158 days…

Well it’s Friday … and I’m OK.

Well I’m not *O.K.* but in the wider scheme of things … I’m OK.  I realise that doesn’t make a lot of sense but I know you get what I mean.

Maybe I’m too busy to dwell today …

I saw the financial planner dude again and  … wait for it … Signed Off On The Superannuation.  Ta Da.
FP dude is across everything and had factored in the best option ages ago but has been trying to shake more info out of your super fund (who are pretty damn cagey).   Also set up the new account so that we are almost organised.

FP dude has been a Godsend.  I think he and his family are people I’d be friends with in other circumstances … although he does have an inordinately detailed understanding of finance and tax (well *duh* – I guess he’s supposed to).  It turns out he and his boys are Doctor Who freaks (he has Daleks on his desk) and his wife was a landscape designer …. I reckon she and I would get on Just Fine.

I also got a call back from the solicitor – no probate needed on the farm transfer so.  That will save me a packet.  FP dude has offered to look through her info on The Other Matter (FP dude also has a law degree).

So finally, some of this infernal paperwork is being processed.


K was supposed to go to a birthday party at the bowling alley tonight … but I just didn’t have the energy to organise babysitting for H and take her … especially since we are going to the Ekka tomorrow.  Kids are very excited … and so am I.

I wonder how sad I will feel though.  Our trip to the show last year was a rare day off study for me and the memories of that day are crystal clear in my head…….

…..The four of us caught the train in, circled Sideshow Alley without spending ANY money, watched the rail spikers competition, checked out the cattle, horses, sheep, chooks, fish, weird poultry, animal nursery, fruit and veg and also the science pavilion.  We ended the day by riding the little ferris wheel at the other end of the grounds before doubling back to buy showbags, a Sponge-Bob plush toy and a light saber.  We didn’t buy the $5 strawberry ice-creams as a) Hello $20 for ice-cream! and b) they Just Aren’t The Same as they used to be.  The used to be strawberry and vanilla ice-cream  in a half and half cylinder in a flat-bottomed cone which was stuffed with fresh strawberries and cream.  Pointy-arsed cones with only strawberry ice-cream and a single strawberry on top Just Don’t Cut It.

I wonder what we will do tomorrow without you there.  i winder if the kids will notice the glaring change from last year?  Mum is coming with us so maybe they won’t.

I will.

I want to wander the pavilions hand in hand.

I want to think what a big kid you are when you cuddle a calf.

I want to laugh with you about the chooks.

I want to go with you and it sucks that I can’t.

I miss you.

I love you.