Home decorating

Few things give me more satisfaction than simple home decorating. This has been a great delight since moving here, especially since I own very little furniture or kitchenware. Indeed, the vast bulk of my belongings are books, CDs and useless knicknacks. Actually, when I arrived, the only furniture I actually owned was my beloved treasure chest that my Dad made, full of old National Geographics.
The greatest single thing in my house is a built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, which divides up the living room to make a dining area and an entrance. It has been lovingly filled with the aforementioned books and useless knicknacks.
I've bought myself a nice dining setting, with a round extendable table and four chairs; the washing machine of last week's saga; and a bunch of assorted kitchenware. All I need now is a microwave, a full dinner set so I can actually have people over, and a bed (I'm still sleeping on a mattress on the floor, which is just as comfortable as the same mattress on a bedframe, so that can wait a while). Today, I quite awesomely got a TV cupboard for the princely sum of... nothing. See, the students who do woodwork or work-related studies or whatever make a lot of stuff they don't need, which is left in the staff room for anyone to take home. So I got a perfectly serviceable TV cupboard for free. It's a kind of ugly white, but the tapestry I got in Thailand is big enough to cover the whole thing. It's a big improvement on my previous TV stand, which was just the TV perched on a stack of old crappy books.
Lastly, I've been trying to put my yukata up on display, since it's neat and I have huge expanses of wall to cover. Yesterday I built a needlessly complicated arrangement involving a curtain rod, string, shoelaces (because the string wasn't long enough) and safety pins to hang it from one of those stick-on removable wall hooks. The whole concoction came crashing down within an hour. Today's attempt involves the yukata hanging from the same curtain rod, with an unwound coathanger re-wound around the curtain rod, then hooked onto one of those vents every house has, with the obi slung over the top. It's lasted a few hours, here's hoping it'll last a few more.

Video of the week!

You really haven't lived until you've seen Kate Bush's dancing in Wuthering Heights. When I was in Scotland, I liked to imagine her twirling across the moors, wearing one of her daft frocks. Oh, Kate.

Let's Complicated.

First of all, I apologise for my reverting back to Engrish. It was either going to be that, or "The Saga Of Attempted Washing Machine Purchase," which isn't quite as catchy. Nevertheless, yesterday I attempted to buy a washing machine, and it has been quite a saga.
I visited my friendly local electrical store and picked out a machine. Not quite having the cash in the bank to buy it there and then (since I bought my wonderful dining setting, which isn't that exciting, but it's the first time I've ever bought my own furniture, so I'm pretty excited about it) , I opted for one of those 12 months interest-free deals. However! I needed photo i.d. to finish the application, and my expired learner's permit wouldn't cut it.
I went home and came back to the shop with my passport. Turns out that if you use some i.d. other than a driving licence, you need to show a utility bill as well. Don't ask me why.
Today I came back to the shop again with a phone bill in hand. Finished the application, and it was rejected. This was presumably on the grounds that I haven't been with my current employer very long, but the helpful computer screen says nothing. So, I'm advised to change to a rent-to-buy kind of thing. This has to be arranged by phone. We (the storeperson and I) sit on hold for a half hour. We get through to the rental people, everything is sorted out, and it's only twenty minutes after closing time.
I start walking home. A few hundred metres away from the shop, a car pulls over, and it's the salesperson, who forgot to get my signature on some forms. Since she's in a car and I'm walking and it's about 30 million degrees today, she drives me home.
Did I tell you it was a saga? It was a saga.

In other stupidity today, I put some juice in the freezer to cool it down quickly. When I poured it out, it was all slushy and reminded me of the fruity frozen margaritas at Moby Dick in Okayama, so I put a splash of pisco. Now it tastes horrible.

Oh well, no more laundromat, at least.

Roots

Back to mine, that is.
Two years and twenty-something countries later, I'm back in Mount Gambier, in the same neighbourhood I grew up in, teaching in the same school with a lot of my former teachers. The school's looking much nicer than it did ten years ago, though of course the kids keep complaining about how feral it is. Feral is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose. The student numbers have dropped by about 200 since I was there as well, so there's a bit more breathing space, and the corridors no longer have the same Mumbai-train crush they used to between lessons. Otherwise, it's much the same, and it's a great help to start (more or less) a career in a familiar environment and not have to worry about where the bookroom is, what time recess starts, what is acceptable school uniform, and such. When you're a new teacher, you've got enough to worry about.
Mount Gambier has hardly changed, which is fine by me. A couple of shops have changed, and that's about it. What's really striking is that everyone drives everywhere; there's no-one walking on the streets. It's deathly quiet and peaceful out there. The birds are great too; there are flocks of lorikeets in the trees in the park next to my place, and big mobs of corellas on the school oval.
My school's Aquatics Carnival is on tomorrow, and the forecast is for a not-scorching 24. It's already cold in the mornings and evenings, and this better just be a cold patch before the sun comes back, because seriously, this is meant to be summer, people! Yikes.
Lastly, my flat is really nice and roomy, and in very nice shape. But, I have hardly any furniture, and it feels really empty. So, today's mission: get a table.