Joys of Polygamy

Spread the joyous word and you’ll be one step closer to divinity.— Ok, that was a joke.

A knock at the front door mid-afternoon, saw two young men standing at the door eagerly waiting to be greeted. I took one look (peeped more like it) and went “bleh, those who claim to be witnesses”, ignored the knock and went about my way.

Short time later, another knock– geez they sure were determined to hallow me out of hell – and another few minutes of anticipation, then realising their luck was out (or mine, depends which end of the scale you are) finally started to retreat. I then had a good look at them and thought “they are not witnesses”, and went “oh Mormons!!!!!”

I have never had the pleasure of meeting a Mormon before, they tend to go about their holy ways with upturned noses and stick to their communes. Although I have had many a theological chats at the front door with the witnesses -sometimes for hours, but not with Mormons.

I can kick myself for missing the opportunity for a titillating discussion about polygamy.  That would’ve been an entertaining quiz. Of course they would have said it is not practised in their branch. Still, I could have broadened my mind and expanded my horizons with an uplifting (not) theological conversation.

 

Short while later I went for a walk to clear the head and breathe some fresh air. While chugging uphill -yes, I live in a rollercoaster area – a car slowly past me by and a slight glance (by me) in that direction saw a man, who had his elbow casually on the open window, give a wave without a backward or a sideways glance. I had the automatic reaction of waving back, but my hand stopped as soon as it started to move. What do you know it was the two Mr Polygamists.

Now I am wondering if they know who live where and knew I was inside the house and didn’t answer.

 Next time, Mr Mormons, next time.

Lost For Words

I have been zoned out of blogspere due to my workload getting bigger. I will work almost fulltime (I will try and make it, ideally, a four-day week, if not a four and half day) for the next couple of months. And the past few days, I have been dogged in the ‘getting acclimatised process ‘. Not that I believe anyone wonder or give tuppence of what I do…..thought I’ll just point that out just in case someone did care what I did or didn’t do? Is there a soul out there?

……………hmm………………umm……

No one cares about me! I think I better go eat worms – The first one was slimy, the second one was grimy, the third and fourth came up.

Dear Diary, : )

I have been flat out familiarising myself of the relief work I will be doing for the next couple of months – for someone going on hols. This is not mentioning the fact one of her projects is in a right royal mess – putting it mildly. Perhaps that is why she is going away; hoping someone would clear the mess or wishing cobweb on them or hoping it dissipate by the time she comes back. She is mad if she thinks one particular mess will go anywhere. If any, it’ll be she who will be going away.

Where do I begin? -There are cheques drawn that are unaccounted for- two client files are no where to be seen- I found forms in the bottom of a pile that should have been filed months ago…….I dread what I might find in the weeks to come.

One advantage for me is all the ‘right’ people together with everyone else is aware of the mess, so if she has any designs to shift the blame on me upon her return, she can snap out of it. It is fantasy. I will document every skerrick I do there. Yep, even if I sneeze it’ll be documented.

Though I am looking forward to the challenge I’d have to be in a loopy zone to think it will be a walk in the park. I am in a pickle and I hope the next two months will fly with a flick of a finger.

For the first time today I so needed a stiff drink and I am not even a hard drinker……the scary part is, the work has not even begun.

Looking at the bright side of things, I will have lot of autonomy. That is every workers dream, right?

I am so tired to the point of being delirious. So pardon me for any absurdity. Luckily Monday is a holiday- Labour Day. Yippee.

Finally!

I got it back—-my phone, that is.

 Joy!  

Sons’ mobile got whooshed in the washing machine. I load the machine and switch it on… yet technically it was not my fault as it was his responsibility to take it out of the pocket before putting the clothes in the basket. My job is to empty the basket into the machine , wash and dry them. So there!

The phone had a good wash and then into the dryer….. it was raining outside….  Soon as I swtiched on the dryer I heard bang, bang, bang and wondered “what on earth is that?”

Opened the dryer door and rummaged, looked for sons’ clothes…..  I instinctively knew, whatever it was, had to come from his pockets. If only you knew the things he stashes inside his pockets, you would understand.

Voila! A mobile phone. I didn’t say that word at that time. It was not voila moment. It was more like, damn! Phone looked squeaky clean and shiny with a good bath, alas dead.   

Anyway, I gave my phone to the son until we bought a new one for him.

Then began the tug-o-war. What should’ve been a couple of days without a phone (for me) dragged out endlessly.

His demand for a fancy phone with many features as possible and my insistence to look for a cheap one created the dragging match. I wanted him to look for something $100 or under. Obviously he went for $200 or over. No, I am not going to whoosh another $200 in the tub.  He didn’t whinge for a $400 -$500 one. Even he knew that would’ve been a bit of a stretch; otherwise believe you me he would have tried. 

So he sulked and carried on with my phone and I kept to my guns and carried on without one.

Smarty pants big sister, who constantly tries to stir the pot, said “mum why don’t you let him have yours and buy a new one for you?”  Genius! As if that would have worked. The whinging would have escalated and lasted until he got my new one. It would’ve been either that or for me to stick cottonwool in my ears. 

Finally, perhaps the tug game got a bit weary, he bought one for $129 with radio, mp3, camera, video and other usual features– games etc. Only $29 over but hey that was expected. A small compromise, ‘supposedly’, goes a long way. I start lower than my threshold, expecting him to build up, giving the impression he won the bargaining game. It makes him happy. What he doesn’t know is I expected him to go a bit higher. But that is my secret, Shhh…. I can still out-fox the kids.

He is stoked and I am glad to have my phone back.