A Random Day In The Life Of The Machinist's Wife

I had to return to the microsurgery hospital today, so that the surgeon could check on the status of wound healing, after a procedure on both eyelids.  This is the second time I've had small benign cysts of un-known origin removed from my eyelids.  It seems that I'm 'prone' to get them.  It pains me (yes!) that I may have to go regularly for blimp removal.  (I have this picture in my mind's eye of huge carbuncles with hairs sprouting out of them, weighing my eyelid down).  I know if I mentioned this to my daughters they would tell me not to be so dramatic.

Shhhhhhh....... don't tell them I thought that.

Then it was lunch at Ikea with Sarah and her baby, Lyla Melody (Sarah had offered for them to keep me company, in return for a few "keeping companies" I had done with them.  Not that it matters.  I would have gone with her to prenatal appointments anyway).

We made a pact that we would have lunch only; not wander around the rest of the store.  We were strong and stuck to our resolve.  Lyla was happy about that.  Any time is food time for her!

Because of our uncompromising will-power (jesting), we were able to leave within a reasonable time frame and move on to our next chore:  delivery of products to a customer on the other side of town. It was last on our errands list, and we were making good time (for us).  My plan was to return home,  (a 60km distance), then head in the opposite direction to visit my parents - the Grands.

I never made it in time to see the Grands before their scheduled dinner time.  I only made it to the TV lounge at home, put my feet up and started watching re-runs of "Tabitha's Salon Makeover".

I was awoken by the Machinist -

"....coming for a dip in the pool, Babe?  I've just got to scoop out some leaves and then she's ready to rock and roll....."

Oh the shame of being caught napping.

Not.

And later that evening "Babe, I thought you could do with being taken out.  I thought we could go and watch a movie.  How's about going to see The Wall.  I've been wanting to see that...."

A Day In The Life of The Machinist's Wife

While feeding the baby her porridge, on the morning after her sleepover, - a terrible smell filled the dining room.

"is it the baby?" asks Sarah..
"No, she's clean.  What about the mother dog?" I ask..

On inspection, we discover that Pepi had a terrible mess going on in her undercarriage which needed our attention -and fast!

Cam fetched the wheelbarrow, Sarah donned gloves, I brought out the hot water.  Pepi sat in the water while Sarah washed her as I held her.  Baby wanted to see what was going on and we had to distract her when she got too close to Pepi's splashes.

The phone rang.  Machinist came around the corner from the Machine shop.  "It's your mom, Helen" (Helen!).."..the movers won't pack their stuff.  They need everything to be in boxes and your mom wants to know if anyone in town has any boxes they don't want..."

Hayley arrived to pick up Baby.  Sarah and I made a dash to the Grand's cottage.  It didn't look as if there was a lot of moving house going on that day.  It looked like, and was - a removalist's nightmare.  Small tubs, without lids.  Buckets oozing their wares.  Large tubs with lids - heavy and cracking with the weight they were bearing.  A few flimsy cardboard boxes with an occasional content marker.  Sturdy boxes - half empty waiting 'last minute items'.

There's a fine line between aged parent independence and necessary action for the good of all.  The Greater Good.

Emma confided in Grandpa to leave the key under a pot at their new home, while she took the Grands for lunch and coffee.  Sarah and I moved swiftly.  Very swiftly.

Kitchen unpacked
Pantry and fridge stocked
Beds made
Clothes away
Correct distribution of tubs and wares
Removal of empty vessels and other rubbish
TV set up

And then, an impulsive but necessary turn into McDonalds drive through (uugh) for a large coke and fries.  Diet tomorrow.

On arriving home, and after his meal, the Machinist asks..."Babe, come with me..." (Babe!)..."I've got something to show you".

I follow him to the kitchen, where he collects the torch.  I follow him outside towards the Fabrication shop.  "Look there!"

He spotlights a BRAND NEW FENCE.  But oh!  This is not only a lovely, high (privacy) beautifully fitted and welded fence partnered with a well hung and hinged gate.  It is a SNAKE PROOF FENCE.

Aaahhh... Romance.

Later that evening, the Machinist and I are lounging back in soft brown leather recliners, sipping cold drinks and basically - living it large.  We are watching a Very Scary Movie about alien invasion (the "Greys", FYI).  We retire to bed and just as we are falling asleep - a sudden distinct thumping noise.  Then again.  And again.

The Machinist gets out of bed to check what's amiss.  He's gone for a while, as I lay there and wonder if he has been abducted.  Then he comes back to bed, lifts the covers, slides in...

"What was the noise?" I ask
"Oh, it was Emma.  She had a bat in her room and I helped her guide it out the back door..."

A bat.  A BAT.  A BAAAAAT!

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE MACHINISTS WIFE

Wake at around 8am

Tea with the Machinist at the kitchen table

Check emails to see if there is any news from Council.

Coffee with the Machinist in my office.  Hayley makes a wrap for her 'Daddy Andre' to munch on while we discuss Council issues on Flooding and Flood Levels in our local Creek, Building Class, Surveyors and The Building Code of Australia,

The Machinist then phones the Council while I check out another Engineering company's website, whereby the Machinist's eyeballs nearly pop out of his head, as he checks out photos of their machinery, -  not missing a beat in his current conversation with a Council staff member.

Sarah comes in for her 'to do' list, which I have been compiling between phone calls and emails. She is still cleaning out the Workshop A, organising shelves, putting like with like (as much as a girl can put like with like when they're not sure what certain metal items are). Our barn is getting fuller, but at least various items are becoming contained in one place - like a 'one stop shop'.

Discussions with Council continue through lunch.  The Machinist and I become flabbergasted at one of Council's requirements and we embark on a somewhat loud yet funny tirade of abuse against Policy Makers in general.  Emma wafts in and puts her finger to her lips, then starts flapping her wings.   "Just so you know, we can hear you in the kitchen".

That pesky baby monitor in the shape of an angel.  It must have ears in the back of its head.

Emma is determined to finish the job she is on in the Workshop.  She is transferring poems from local Poets using CAD and then sending them to the plasma cutter.  These poems will appear as Tourist attractions throughout our Shire.

I've nicked a couple of the photos she took today, - pictures of when the sparks hit the fan:

Hayley sets off after lunch to paint what was once a food store in the pie shop (now called The Block), to apply water and mould proof paint, as said food store has been transformed into a bathroom.  We are confident that she and our Sam will move in very soon.  While Hayley is gone, I get to look after our darling Baba, Keiralea.  "If she stands in her cot, I pick her up, lie her down on her back with dummy, then put Blankie Ted and Rabbie under her arms..." Hayley instructs me.

My intentions are always good and I'm all for following a mommy's wishes for her Baba.  However, after ten or more sessions, I succumb to infant loveliness, swoop the darling up into my arms, give her 'fairy kisses' and rock her gently.  Within minutes she is asleep and I transfer her to her cot, quickly scooting Blankie Ted out of the way with the back of my hand.

While Baba sleeps, I hand draw a Plan View of Workshop B - a silly requirement of Council, showing the positions of Plant & Equipment.  Later, Emma will draw this up on CAD as well.

After work, we have cold drinks and some of us swim.  Baba falls asleep in her pushchair and I wheel her into the lounge, set myself up on the brown leather lazy boy (girl) chair and promptly nod off....zzzzzzzz......

The Machinist takes the Baba and puts her in our laundry sink, which he has filled with bubbles and her yellow Duckie (a gift from her Pop).  She loves splashing in this tub and it saves our backs.   I dress her and feed her.

Right now, Sam and Hayley are frolicking with their offspring on the rug.   Sarah has gone out with her fiance, Cam, and Emma is cooking.  The Machinist is grilling kebabs on the BBQ.

I'd better be off... The Machinist just popped his head in my office door -

"Do you know how lonely it can get - barbequing kebabs?"

And later - "Did I tell you how hot you look today, Babe?"

A Day in the Life of the Machinist's Wife

Get up at 5.50am

Decide to go back to bed at 6.15am

Wake again at 7.55am

Have early morning tea with the Machinist - (him - flat white coffee - me - Rooibos tea)

Put on a load of washing

Transfer 'smalls' to tumble dryer (phobia about hanging knickers on line)

Hang larger items of clothing on washing line while puppies jump up on the back of my legs.  Start looking for fallen pegs in the wet soil / grass below the washing line. (a result of hurried young adults and / or mischievous puppies pulling washing - and pegs - off the line)

Start pulling weeds out of Sarah's garden bed (near washing line).  Notice that the majority of rogue greenery is not weeds, but rather - self rooted valerian. "...It spreads as bad as the catmint, mam..."

Mid-morning coffee with the family at the kitchen table.

Go up to the Shop to assist in raising the exhaust hood into the ceiling cavity.  Witness a lot of shouting and directing, due to the sheer weight and degree of difficulty in getting the exhaust hood in said ceiling cavity.  Ask Grandpa if he would ask Grandma to make some sandwiches for a bunch of loud rebel raisers (the Grands are always wanting to help us in some way).

Have lunch with the Grands: cup o' soups, toast, boiled eggs, cheese, pickles, fruit tea and coffee.  What a delight!

Go home and start weeding the garden at the front of the house.  Azaleas, hellebores, Solomon's prayer, Daphne.  Weed around garden seat.  Set up two terracotta pots at each side of garden seat. Weed around front courtyard - banksia roses, more Daphne, snow-in-summer, photinias, phlox, dwarf Irish strawberry tree.

On the Machinist's request go up to the Shop again to check out the exhaust hood now fully bolted to the ceiling beams.  "Look, Babe, no props!"

Return home.  Cart wheelbarrow of weeds to the back of side paddock (where the Grandfather Brown Snake lives.  Note: it's still winter).  Machinist finds a heap of cut logs, so assist him in cutting more wood for fires. 

Help the Machinist cut a pile of unwanted hardwood beams ex-Shop from the back of his ute, in the light from the Workshop.  (It's handy having lots of hand tools on hand! Circular saw, waiting wheelbarrow).

Take pile of cut wood to the Grands "...we have two logs for tonight, Helen, but nothing to start the fire with tomorrow, and we light the fire early..."

Return home.  Order curry and rice from the Bushranger Hotel across the road (Tuesday = Curry Night = A huge BLESSING).  

Update blogs and research while the Machinist watches Biker Build Off. 

"Ok, Machinist, I'm coming to bed now"

Goodnight All!

A Random Day in the Life of the Machinist's Wife

I wake up, and go to the bathroom. On the way back to the bedroom, the Machinist asks "Would you like a cup of tea, Doll?" To which I reply, "yes, please". Get dressed. Return to the kitchen. The YA YA YAs have started putting raisin bread into the toaster. There's a bit of discussion about the health and taste benefits of ground coffee beans in espresso as opposed to instant coffee.

The Machinist and middle daughter have the last of the coffee beans. (First up, first served). Eldest daughter and number one son settle for instant coffee.

The toasted raisin bread pops up, and number one son starts to butter his piece. We sit together at the kitchen table. The ladies are dressed in overalls, for a hard day in the workshop. Pretty hair combs and red lipstick, with blue logo workshirts and metal capped boots.

The workshop crew leave the kitchen. "Have a nice day at the office, dears". I can't help myself.

I load up the faithful old Simpson washing machine and turn it on. Then, moving quickly through the front room and the family room, picking up, making neat, fluffing cushions, taking away used dishes from last night. Open all the curtains, and windows throughout the living areas. The lace instantly billows with the gentle and (gratefully) cool breeze.

Then outside to fetch the washing in off the washing line, leaving it ready for the day's load.

When the washing machine is full, on goes the second-hand commercial dishwasher, which the Machinist INSISTED I have. I gather the dishes from around the kitchen, scrape them and stack them, ready for their turn in the stainless steel box of diluted bleach, power-spray fury. With each basket load, I challenge myself. Dry and pack away, as well as reload spare basket before wash cycle is complete. I win every time!
Washing machine finishes cycle. I put another load on, then peg out clean clothes.
Counter tops now clear and disinfected, I begin making bread. Two loaves today, as Iwill be in the city tomorrow. Number one son comes in, searching for food. He's always hungry. I promise to make him more toast, and to take it out to him. I start that straight away, as I know that production is low when stomachs are low.
While the bread is rising, I take a plate of hot buttered toast out to the workshop. The Machinist is delighted "We didn't have breakfast that long ago...", he muses, as he takes the thickest piece of toast off the plate. I go into the office and check for any business emails while I am in the machine shop. None. The pesky fax machine is still playing up. It won't receive. It will scan, print, copy, send, but not receive. Is it a telephone line or equipment problem? Note to self: try another angle on the fax machine problem. It has to be sorted. This is a business.
Back in the kitchen, I note that the first rising of the bread is complete. The dough is punched, split and rolled into four balls; two for each bread pan. More rising time.
Another load in the washing machine. More clothes to hang outside.
Bread goes in the oven. As it bakes, I chop mushrooms, squares of real butter and add to pan (Jamie forever!).

I then chop green and red capsicums and onions. They go in another pan with olive oil.

Both pans put on high, then turned down to low.

Whisked eggs are added to the capsicum and onion pan and left on low heat.

I carve the bread, but it's 'doughy' in the middle so I have to toast it.

While the bread is toasting, I go out to the front of the workshop and see oldest daughter cleaning stainless steel products. She sees me. I point to the house.
She turns to the rest of the crew. "Lunch!" she cries
BREAK
Lunch is over, there are dishes to wash, but I really need to hang out more washing.
The Machinist hopes to finish early today, as we are going into the city to pick up second daughter's first car from a migrant family staying in a motel who are leaving the country on Wednesday. Before we go, I have to prepare business papers and summaries, along with application forms for our accountant. I also have to write a few business letters. After we pick up the car, the Machinist will be driving said car back home, along with number one son. Middle daughter and I will be taking our second lesson in Italian.
Areva derci!

The Brocante Home Puttery Treats Challenge

Alison May of Brocante Home has put out a challenge to her readers! How can we resist? She wants us to select one (sigh...) of her "Puttery Treats" from a generously vast collection and... well... blog about it. The difficulty is; how can we select just one? They are all so tantalising and seducing....
I have chosen a few of Alison's Puttery Treats, because I couldn't make my mind up about just one. It is late spring here in Australia, but because I ADORE harvest time, I simply could not refrain from reminiscing Autumns past... 

Thanks for the memories, Alison!

"Spend baking day this week filling your freezer with warming soups. Nothing is more homely than having a big vat of chunky vegetable soup on the go: the smell alone is enough to make you never want to leave the house. Serve with heavy multigrained homemade bread and lunch in the glow of candlelight".
 This is where the ladies do all their cooking and baking. The Machinist made the stainless steel benches and they are wonderful to use. He bought the steel from a local second hand dealer, and was absolutely thrilled at the price! (Much less than he would have had to pay from a stainless steel supplier). The stove you can see holds at least five massive pots and the whole kitchen starts to look like a Turkish sauna when the soups and stews are bubbling away. In fact, it is quite risky business when any attempts to stir the soups are made, as the juices sometimes erupt up and onto the ladies' faces.
Horrrors!
All scraps from the peeled and tipped veg-a-buls go into the galvanised chicken bucket under the bench, and the hens love to peck and scratch these offerings (we're careful not to put any garlic / onion skins in there, as they are not good for hens). The puppies just know they're in for a treat when they smell the aroma of smoked bacon, and don't seem to mind a few appendages of burned mushy pea clumps stuck to the bones. Nothing goes to waste.
The Machinist and Favourite Son often comment that they can detect the smell of the soups from the workshop, and that it calls them home....
If a large portion of time has been spent on preparing and cooking the soups and stews, home-made bread is mixed and allowed to rise in the trusty bread making machine. But....it is one of life's simple pleasures, and so satisfying to hand knead and drop the raw, stretchy dough into old and somewhat rusty bread tins and watch the (oddly shaped) loaves rise in the oven.

"Harvest the apples on your trees and spend an afternoon making puree, chutneys and pies. Leave a basket in the garden for collecting the fruit". 


When mam comes over to visit, she insists on taking a basket of apples home with her. She seldom takes the unblemished apples, but prefers those with nodules or tiny cankers, as they are "more tart" for her concoctions. It's the same with the plums, as she has her 'favourite' plum tree and persists that although it's branches are sparsely endowed, the tiny fruits still reign as palate champions.
This picture shows jars of apple sauce (for pork), cinnamon apple butter (for custard or when we fancy something sweet, straight from the pot), spicy apple chutney (delicious with bread and cheese) and curried apple chutney (no particular partner/s needed - it goes with everything). There's also jars of locally grown honey, transferred from huge tubs; ~ gifts from the Village Bee Keeper.
The fruit and vegetables are always collected in baskets, as we have many, and there is something so very 'country' about collecting a harvest in a basket. Sometimes, in really busy periods, we leave the fresh produce in the baskets, but later regret it when we discover that some of the fruits have matured too quickly and spread their aging juices - liberally - on the other varieties.

"Start squirrelling away some groceries for the times later on in the season when it is just too cosy to leave your house and face the flourescent horror of the supermarket. Add gingham tops to jars full of homemade jams and display on your counter tops. Autumn is all about abundance..."






"Come ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest-home; All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin; God our maker doth provide, For our wants to be supplied; Come to God's own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest-home" 

It seems that the Autumn harvest and gathering of food is synonymous with this poem by Henry Alford. The ripened produce. The Housekeeper stocking the larder with non perishable foods. The preparation of the house for winter.....

These jars were about to be sent to the tip, but we salvaged them. (They once contained sun-dried tomatoes, olives and artichokes). In cooler months, country mice tend to visit the kitchen and are always destructively hungry. The jars prove most effective in keeping dried foods uncontaminated from mousy antics! The ladies made green gingham toppers for the jars, but because they are used so often, the ties for the toppers became a mennace. Not only the ties, but the toppers themselves tended to become grotty very quickly. Fortunately, the lids to the jars are all the same colour - green, so they look uniform, but the ladies are still 'thinking' about grinding the paint off the lids and polishing them, so that they will have the appearance of stainless steel.

"To match the rest of the kitchen..." declare the young ladies

At the moment, this is just a 'thought' - along with many others....