Last Thursday morning, I took a couple of hours off work. I drove to the airport at Tullamarine, and picked up Kiddo, Micaiah and little Abby who flew in from Canberra. Mic has a gig on Saturday and his family decided to come along for the ride. So to speak.
I dropped them off at the FHC where we met Tress, and I then went back to the office. The Canberrans stayed through the weekend and our house was turned upside down, inside out, with 24/7 heating turned on and baby feeding apparatus spread across benchtop spaces in the kitchen. Baby toys and books were strewn across the living room and the TV was hardly turned on. We had to speak in hushed voices when she was sleeping. All our goings in and out revolved around the feeding and sleeping patterns of little Abby. It was all immensely satisfying.
Carrying little Abby, cooing to her, having chats with her (me talking and she responded by smiling), putting her in and taking her out of the baby capsules, folding and unfolding the pram and loading and unloading same into the car, taking her on short walks around the block – they all filled me in ways heretofore unknown. She has of course, grown from the last time we saw her in June. She remains however, the beautiful, serene and sweet thing she has been from the first time we saw her in the hospital in Canberra. What a blessing it has been.

They leave later this arvo, when I will again take a couple of hours off work to drop them off at the airport. When I return, the house will resume its previous state. It will be quiet and serene again. Order will be restored. I don’t know why, and never expected that I would, at the start of the final quarter of my life, be quite ready to trade all that quietness, serenity and sense of order, for having little Abby and her parents invade our lives. I never expected that. Life does throw up surprises. Nice ones this time around.

I’d been noticing spots of grime and dust here and there around the house so on Sat morning, after sleeping in and walking the little guy, Tress and I got stuck into house cleaning. We vacuumed, brushed, wiped and after a few hours, tired ourselves out but the house felt clean and fresh. It always feels great when that happens. With the previous weekend being kept busy working on the outside with the hedges, lawns and all and the house cleaning this weekend, it felt like a familiar routine has crept back in.

The night before, we caught up with Jason and Mel at a local favourite in Donvale. Laksa Village has become our friendly go to place and it was buzzing on Friday night, which was great to see. Sammi, Jason and Mel’s daughter had left for Hong Kong earlier in the week. She and Brendan her husband will live and work there from hereon in, and Jason and Mel had already booked airtix to visit them in October. Life cycles always throw up surprises and it is always interesting to anticipate what lies around the bend.

After the house cleaning, we dropped into The Glen – we hadn’t been there for a little while and I wasn’t sure what I wanted for lunch so I thought we’d go to the food court and then do some grocery shopping as well. Later that arvo, we walked the boys again, before coming home to get ready to watch the Matilda’s 3rd place playoff. Sweden was very good, as was England earlier in the week, so the Matildas ended up being the 4th placed team in the 2023 World Cup. The women’s game is still an “acquired taste” but the sense of occasion and cheering the national team on made up for the gap and made it interesting all the same.

St Alf’s the next day had a “Life on the Frontline” series starting. Well it’s only for a couple of weeks so a short series it is. We then went to another Malaysian place in Syndal for lunch, before going home for me to do the week’s cook. When that was done, we headed to the local Dan Murphy’s to replenish my empty wine rack, before settling down to watch the Hawks game against the Dees. We went down fighting and I had to remind myself this was the 16th placed team against the 4th placed, so the loss wasn’t so hard to take. The harder loss was that of Man United earlier on Sunday morning. Spurs, under Postecoglu, apparently now play a more exciting brand of football and United has been branded (by Keano) as the “new Spurs”. Disparaging, especially for Spurs for sure, but with the Matildas. Hawks and United all losing, it wasn’t a weekend of sporting happiness. We watched a little bit of the Spain v England final last night. Football is still not “coming home” for England. Spain is the spanking new world champions of women’s football. That feels about as fresh as our clean home.

When we first moved into our home, someone said something about the James Stirling Pittosporum plants that were planted along the fences. These will grow a meter a year, was the wise saying by that someone, who did landscaping for a living. Grow they did and after all these years, they continue to provide me with the most work in our home maintenance. Thankfully, they grow slightly slower in winter so I’d have to do less.

On Saturday, we slept in and the weather forecast said it was going to rain. I was saying to Tress that we’d swap around our weekend routine and cook on Saturday when it rains, and do the James Stirling Pittosporum hedges on Sunday arvo. After walking the little fella on the weekend extended route, we came back and the rain had yet to arrive. Tress and I thought it might hold out a little longer and so we jumped in to work on those James S hedges. Out came the power tools, cables, ladder, mower, etc.

About 3 hours later, the hedges looked far less unruly, the lawns have been mowed and the pavements, driveway, deck all swept and tidied. Just then, the rain began to trickle in and by the time we were seated in one of our favourite Malaysian places in Donvale for a late lunch, the rain finally poured. So, we’re grateful that the work was all done and we enjoyed the lunch in peace. After lunch, we did some grocery shopping and when we got home, the skies have turned really grey and the rains continued to pour. So we stayed in, and waited, along with most of the country, for the big game to start.

The FIFA Women’s World Cup has been going on and the Australian team, a.k.a. “The Matildas”, got to the quarter finals stage where the French team awaited. The game was to start at 5pm in Brisbane and the holy cows like the Channel 7 6pm news and the AFL game start time (Carlton v Melbourne, big game) were to be sacrificed so the whole nation can bathe in the excitement of watching the Matildas’ game uninterrupted. Women’s football is no where near men’s and for folks who have watched competitions like the English Premier League or the European Champions League for many years, watching the women’s game takes some effort. The excitement is there all the same however, because the sense of occasion is of the highest level, the different level of quality of football notwithstanding.

So Tress and I settled down and watched, along with well over 4 million other Aussies. The Matildas were superb. They gave everything. The game ended in a goalless draw even after extra time, so the nerve wrecking penalty shootout ensued. After 10 kicks each, Australia finally prevailed. We sneaked through by beating the French, by the slimmest of margins. England, the old enemy, awaits at the semi final stage but that is a story for another day. For now, we bask in the glory of arriving at the doorstep of FIFA World Cup nirvana.

At St Alf’s the next day, the service leader started by asking for a show of hands by those who watched the Matildas the day before. I thought it was easily 3/4 of the crowd of maybe 350 persons. The excitement remains. After the service, we headed to Syndal for lunch, and then went home to do the cooking. Tress had one of her ethereal events so I cooked, as I listened to the footy on the radio. Amazingly, the Hawks got up against the Bulldogs in Tassie. 2 wins -back-to-back – against first the Pies and now the Doggies, is a testament to how well Sam Mitchell and his team are doing with the rebuild. I said to Tress it may not be unreasonable to expect finals footy as early as next year. Sure, we all need to tamper our expectations but the Matildas have injected a sense of excitement and I’m just being carried by that wave, so Go Hawks!