My little girl, Missy, when we went to the park to play ball recently.
I was on life saving patrol over the weekend, and the beach looked pretty darn gloomy! I blame the overcast weather and the storm in the early hours of the morning.
During the recently Rugby Union World Cup, C hosted a group of friends to watch the Australian wallabies unfortunately fall prey to the New Zealand All Blacks. During the night, we had a few shots of these to keep things ticking along.
I arrived home from Melbourne today only to discover that I couldn’t find my housekeys anywhere. Thankful that my housemate came home every day for lunch I sent her a text to let her know of my predicament, then waited out in the back pergola area with the dogs.
I took this picture after throwing the ball for Missy about 1,000 times (no exaggeration), but she still kept coming back from more. Here she’s just dropped the ball at my feet, and panting like mad she’s wondering why I haven’t thrown it again yet.
By the way – my bag had developed a hole in one of the pockets so my keys had fallen into the lining. Took me over a week before I found them (during which time I’d gotten new keys cut).
Only 1.5 weeks ago on a Saturday morning, my Dad and I raced through the rain to try and get my 7 seater couch into my new house before it got saturated. We failed dismally, and when we reached the new place the couch remained in the garage for several days drying off before it made it into the living room. We also battled to get a bed frame and mattress through the downpour, and had much more success with that, but it still needed a good session with the hairdryers before it was ready for use.
Thus was the beginning of my adventure in living in a share house.
The house I live in is great. I have a nice sized room; enough to have a queen sized bed, desk and dresser drawers, and a small inbuilt cupboard. Given that I don’t have many clothes anyway the drawers and wardrobe provide sufficient storage for my threads. Across the hall from my room are two more bedrooms that will be occupied by other housemates once they move in, and the actual home owner (also a housemate) has a bedroom at the front of the house (with her own ensuite, I’ll be sharing a bathroom with two others).
The only thing that has been a sticking point for me since moving out was that I had to give up one of my two dogs. If you know me well enough, you would know that I absolutely adore my two dogs, Turbo and Missy. Turbo is a staffy x kelpie that we got from the animal refuge way back in 2003. He was estimated to be between 6 – 12 months at the time. Missy was obtained at the beginning of 2010 at just 5 weeks of age, and is a lab cross something; we still don’t know who it was that “accessed” her mum. We suspect it was a gorgeous cattle dog though, who was one of the most beautiful dogs that I have ever seen. I certainly wouldn’t be disappointed if it was him!
The two of them when Missy was a pup, she's much taller than him now!
This is our pup, Missy, one half of the terrible two that lurk in the backyard at home. She’s posing with her favourite ball and wondering why I am insisting that she sits still, rather than throwing it for her. Typically, she didn’t sit still for long but it was long enough that I got the shot.
