We did it!

This week has been a momentous week. I got my salary on Tuesday, and was the lucky one to pay off the last installment of our mortgage.

After spending about 10 minutes on a wardance around the house, joined by our happy animals (including us doing some complicated handshakes and claps we picked up from some Hollywood blockbuster movies which puzzled our beasties greatly) we could settle down and take another look at our bank account, and yes, there it was:

Personal Homeloan owing: $0.00

$0.00

$0.00

We were so happy. I then proceeded to send off my email (written a mere 3 weeks ago) requesting part time, preferably 3 days a week, preferably Monday - Wednesday. I saw my manager was still online, so chicken that I was, I sent the email and then went offline so I didn't have to answer any awkward questions immediately.

I had a meeting on Thursday - Sandra told me she was shocked by my email but was relieved I didn't resign (hmmm useful knowledge for me), followed by the obligatory "Mike asked if you were going to have a kid". Yup... male chauvinism is still alive and kicking in Australia, and there couldn't possibly be any other reason for a female to want to go part time. Well try this buddy, I'm not pregnant but I'm debt free! How about you, sucker! (Well I know he obviously wouldn't be pregnant but you know what I mean.)

Then we entered negotiations. Basically it looks like they're open to me going part time, but because of current deadlines etc etc she proposed that I go to 4 days first, and then (I am going to request after the November deadlines) go down to 3 days.

Poor Alex is on holidays, she'll have her heart attack on Monday but it can't be helped: Basically I don't HAVE to work full time anymore. I have thrown off the shackles of forced labour, of having to dance to the tune of the large corporations, of having to suck up to all these self inflated infuriating arrogant b'stards who think they're god's gift to large corporations. They don't hold power over me anymore (they never did, but being financially independent is a great boost).

OHboyohboyohboyohboy. Who would have thought that we would have managed to get to this in such a relatively short time... only 3 years ago we had a mortgage that would see me in my grave, we had no chance in hell to pay it off in any sensible amount of time. Now we are here, on our own land, in our own house. The bank is dismayed as well - they wanted us to keep our loan open 'so we can use the money on other things'. We said no, thank you very much, we'd rather have the title to our land and house. Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

Happy days!!!!

Tales of the Bog - A cautionary tale about men, women, and mud

Men are not as smart as donkeys. How do I know this? Well, there is a saying in Dutch that says 'a donkey never hits the same stone twice'. Clever donkey!

Now let's look at this saying in regards to men. I think I may not be alone here, but quite often I'll suggest or say something which gets pushed under the table immediately. 'Nononononono, you don't do it like that', or, 'nonononono it'll be alright'. after which something goes wrong (often for the second or third time) and if I had been listened to in the first place, we could have avoided whatever mishap occurred.

Let's ponder this a while, as I take you a few weeks back into the past. This year has been a wet year. Not even minorly wet, but super wet. A few weeks back we decided to fix the electric fencing in the back paddock, so that Rufus wouldn't escape to the girls next door on a daily basis. We took the car, managed to get across the mudflat next to the new dam, did the fencing, everything was hunky dory.

On the way back (it had been steadily raining all day) we got to the mudflat, and yes.... we got bogged. Now rule number one (so I've been told -- by a woman) is never to spin the wheels. As soon as you feel you're bogged, stop.

So what did PJ do? He revved and revved, spun the wheels, and eventually the wheels were half sunk in this mud. I said, let's phone Ian to see if he can pull us out. Nononononono....

Next day, we ended up digging and digging, PJ spun the wheels a bit more, PJ had the nerve to use the wood I'd chopped for our fire to stick under the tyres ('I'll pull them out when we're finished!' -- Guess where they are now!). Me: 'Let's phone Ian and see if he can pull us out'. 'Nononononono!' Two hours later that was exactly what happened. It was quite funny listenening to half an hour of chinwagging, after which PJ finally got to the point. To cut a long tale short, Ian came over, managed to pull the ute out, and all was well. He was sniggering a bit as obviously PJ wasn't all too happy about having this accident happen, but admitted that he got bogged more often than anybody in the Valley so PJ shouldn't feel too bad. As we were having a beer looking out over the field, Ian said we probably shouln't drive in the paddock again until later in the year, or at least once the rain had finished. Nods all around, as we're all sensible beings after all.

Imagine my surprise when Friday PJ says to me, 'I'm going to pick up the wood from the back paddock, with the ute'. Me: 'Hmmmm I don't think that's a good idea, you'll get BOGGED.'

'Nonononononono, I know what I'm doing.' I repeated my concern, but to no avail. So off he went, only to come back a few hours later, sans car as it was stuck in the paddock.

In the evening we went over to Tanya & Jamahl for dinner, and PJ asked if Jamahl could pull him out. Jamahl proudly proclaimed he had never been bogged, and no worries mate! This had to happen early on Saturday morning as Tao had gymnastics to go to. On the way out, Tanya said to Jamahl, don't you get bogged now. 'Nonononono I never get bogged!'

There was a flurry of activity at 7am, then some more at 7.30am, and then around 8am PJ was back.

'How did it go dear?' A sheepish look, and yes, Jamahl also got bogged in the field. A case of the bogger becoming the boggee perhaps. So PJ had dropped him off at home and he was coming back later in the day to hopefully claim his car back from our greedy fields.

We spent the rest of the morning jacking up the car, putting the dry lovely wood underneath the wheels, and finally at around 1pm, everybody was free and happy in the field, getting out before The Bog got us again.

I couldn't help but take some photos of the guys ('please look sheepish now! Good!'). Jamahl was the funniest, he'd rather forget this day happened at all. After all, he never got bogged. Of course in my opinion this is worthy of a story, and let's face it, it's a noteworthy event if someone who never gets bogged gets bogged next to the person who shouldn't have been bogged a second time but did.

So, in summary, not only did we not get the dry wood out (it's all soaked and covered in mud) but we also managed to waste half a day digging out 2 cars.

Moral of the story: It may pay to listen to your female counterparts - it can stop you from getting bogged. It may also help your self esteem not to end up with egg on your face.

Will this happen you think? (Nononononononono....)

Two cars stuck in the mud.

Two sheepish guys who never get bogged.

Two sheepish guys and a couple of blondes.

Check out the full sequence of events.

So now we know why the proverb says 'A donkey never hits the same stone twice' -- it just wouldn't be correct otherwise...

~~~ The End ~~~