12 is a big number around here, being all to do with Seattle Seahawks and the 12th man - did you know that American football has 11 players active on the ground at any one time and the twelfth man is the spectators watching the game? I didn't. I know about the 12th man in cricket but not this thing that has been adopted here regarding what I usually call gridiron.
But I don't want to talk about American football and I don't want to talk about 12, I want to talk about six.
Yes, we have now been in Seattle for six years (and a number of days).
Where has the time gone?
This is our seventh winter - how have we managed? Some people love gloom but we are solar powered. And Seattle tends to be rather gloomy in winter. I manage by making stuff like crazy, I wear bright colours, and I hang out online on Ravelry. Without my rav mates, I'd be bored out of my brain. I'd get a job but I don't have a work permit and that means no job for me!
I haven't even started chemo yet and already I am b*ggered. We moved into our place on Sunday night.
DH has been madly ripping up more carpet with the help of his father and sanding floors. I've now helped with oiling one of them (orange and tung oils, nowhere near as lethal smelling as tung mixed with petrochemicals). We've been washing walls and ceilings and painting them. The bedroom is mostly done (enough that we are sleeping in it) but we need to do the second coat of paint on one wall and above the pelmet and also rearrange the furniture when we haven't got half the study in the room with us. The place looks like a bombsite but at least two rooms are mostly done.
There's a fault in the lighting wiring that DH has not had time to track down. So far he's found shorts or evidence of arcing in three different lights. (The shorts are not the sort you put on, btw, just to be clear.) He has to get into the roof to see if there is a problem wi…
This is the fourth Australia Day I've had away from home. I've read the newspapers pontificating on what it is to be Australian, and I'm still not sure what it means, beyond being a person born with at least one parent who is an Australian citizen or a person who has migrated to Australia and become a citizen.
I know some of the things that mark me as an Australian. My accent for one, despite the best efforts of various well-meaning Americans to make me sound like them. Nup, not happening. I'll keep my he-yah and summa, my Powl's books, not pow-el's books, thanks all the same. Some Americans love my accent - I have absolutely NO idea why - when I go back home, I know I sound like the people around me and oh my goodness, I sound like that? I'll also keep my somewhat off sense of humour, even if I can only indulge it in certain company. My attitude to health care - after all Australia is a socialist country (I can hear various Americans…