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Posts tagged ‘present’


Our young seadog blowing a raspberry.

I gave Husband a fishing boat for his birthday.

I know, I know: love makes you do crazy stuff. Also, I’m generous.

Unfortunately, Andrew had to sell his roadbike to facilitate my generosity. I couldn’t afford to buy the boat for him, since my career as an impoverished author nets me an average annual income of roughly $20 – or a third share in a lifejacket.

Equally unfortunately, I own nothing of value that I could sell to augment the boat fund. Second-hand dogs don’t fetch much on Trademe, and while I suppose there’s a family member or two I could auction, the logistics would be tricky unless I could export them from Ireland to close the deal.

On second thoughts, I should TOTALLY have done that.

But, no. No, no. I don’t want to hector or lecture or moralise, and I’ve never been into using my beliefs as blunt instruments (although I have been known to occasionally tickle people with them if the right moment presents itself); however, in this case I’ll make an exception:

Slavery is WRONG, folks.

Since collecting the boat three weeks ago, we’ve made a number of excursions to identify the optimal fishing spots around Port Underwood – or, more accurately, eliminate the worst. So far, we’ve caught one legal blue cod and various sea vegetables. I’m considering changing my name officially to The Kelpie Queen.

We wondered how The Jedster would take to the boat, since he isn’t a consummate kayak enthusiast. He definitely prefers the boat, demonstrating an impressive knack of always being precisely where you don’t want him.

He’s much more interested in the process of fishing. At least, he’s the only one going for our bait, having developed a keen taste for re-frozen squid. His new favourite game is attempting to impale his tongue on a fishing hook.

Jed has more faith in our ability to catch fish than we do; when we drop our lines, he stands at the side of the boat quivering and peering intently into the water.

It’s touching how excited Jed gets when we start reeling in. He gets pretty peeved when we throw back undersized fish or kelpie; when we went fishing off the rocks, he used to dive in after them. So far, we have dissuaded him from trying the same trick from the boat.

So, we've taught him to SIT! on the boat. Now all we have to do is train him to catch fish, and/or not capsize the boat.

Husband allows me pilot the boat.

Dispatches from the road, Part I

Me: I had the weirdest dream last night. I was at Obama’s inauguration and everyone was giving him presents – like cut crystal and antique guns with inscriptions, you know? I had something for him too, wrapped in white paper with a silver bow. But as I gave it to him, I realised it was crap

Husband: Really? What was it?

Me: A mug, with ‘Merry Christmas’ on it

Husband: Gosh, that is crap

Me: I know! And Obama was so gracious about it. He said, ‘That’s a great mug. Rilly great.’ Then he pointed at me, as if he really meant it

Husband: You go into a lot of detail in your dreams, don’t you?

Me: You can’t IMAGINE how embarrassing it was


Husband rang me yesterday:

“Now, you know our anniversary tomorrow?”

“Yes . . .”

“Well, I was wondering about presents. Do I buy you a present? Or do you buy me a present?”

“You buy me a present.”

“Oh. So you don’t buy me a present?”


“That doesn’t seem fair!”

“Really? Well, those are the rules. But since I revel in anarchy in the pursuit of a perpetual anti-establishment lifestyle, how about I buy you something?”

“Eh no, that’s ok. It’ll probably be crap.”

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