A new addition…

There are two types of people in the world – those that like dogs, and those that like cats. I’ve always had my feet firmly in the dog-loving-camp; Mr Posy on the other hand has always been a cat-person.

The last (and only) time I had a cat was when I was 4 and we lived on a farm. The kitten attacked me, and I’ve been afraid of cats ever since. Bizarrely, the crazy rooster that used to attack Mum and me every morning didn’t leave the same emotional scar. I guess it’s not every day that you encounter a rooster.

Cats are spiteful little creatures. Sensing my dislike for them, they’d be sure to rub against my legs or perch themselves in my lap when I’d visit cat-ruling households. I’d be paralysed by fear, too scared to move, waiting for the cat’s next move, where it would surely slash me. I wasn’t just afraid of cats, I was terrified. A fear I didn’t share with a lot of people… “You’re afraid of cats?”, they’d question, incredulous. “Oh well, you know, I was attacked… by a pack of feral cats… when I was much smaller,” I’d mumble in reply.

Mr Posy has never pushed the issue of getting a cat. We have PosyDog, who is rather cat-like, so I figured that was a good compromise (considering I’d originally wanted a much larger dog, like a Boxer or a Shar Pei, but Mr Posy wasn’t a fan). Apparently, having a dog that has cat-like qualities (such as sleeping on the back of the lounge or on bookcases) is not the same thing as having a cat.

It all started back in February, when a friend, the lovely Miss B, sent me a picture message of a friend’s new kitty – a British Short Hair. “She’s gorgeous!” I exclaimed, “Don’t tell Mr Posy I said that…”. The seed had been sown.

A couple of months later we were out for dinner and drinks with these friends, where they later invited us back to their apartment for coffee and to meet their kitten. I could feel my anxiety rising, but too embarrassed to admit that I was scared of a kitten, we accepted the invitation.

Oh em gee.

The kitten was ridiculously cute.

Thanks to a few too many wines, I made the mistake of making the off-the-cuff remark that “I could handle a cat like that”. That was all Mr Posy needed to hear. I’d somehow agreed to a getting cat.

For months, I would curl up on the couch only to find Mr Posy researching kittens and breeders on the iPad. He was obsessed. I’d never seen him so excited about anything. Finally, he found a breeder with a little female lilac British Short Hair. “Yeah, okay, she’s pretty cute”, I reluctantly agreed.

This was how I found myself at the airport on a Saturday afternoon, a week ago, to collect a kitten.

“Do you want me to take her out of her crate, love?”, the very friendly attendant at the cargo delivery bay at the airport questioned. “Oh jeez no!” I exclaimed. I was terrified. I didn’t want to take her out of her crate. What if she scratched me? Even worse, what if she ran away? How would I explain that to Mr Posy (who was at work when the plane arrived from Melbourne)?

I got PosyKitty home, and out of her crate. She didn’t attack me. This was a good sign. PosyDog wanted to smell her butt – PosyKitty hissed at her. This was not a good sign. I started freaking out.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have expected PosyDog and PosyKitty to be best friends straight away. PosyKitty had just been taken away from her parents, shoved in a cage and put on a four hour flight, and then plucked out of her cage by somebody new (and equally terrified of her…) in a completely foreign destination.

I needn’t have worried. A week later and they’re completely smitten with each other.

As for me and PosyKitty…  Well, I’m still constantly afraid that she’s going to turn on me (much to Mr Posy’s amusement), but she’s wormed her way into my heart. She follows me around everywhere (she even tried climbing into the shower with me), and snuggles into bed with me.

I still maintain that I’m not a cat-person. I’m just a PosyKitty-person.

Feels like home

There’s something about Sydney that always soothes my soul.

Up until a month ago, the last proper holiday that Mr Posy and I took was in May 2009, when we went back to New York City for eight days. We’ve had time off since then, a long weekend here or there where we’d jet off to Sydney or Melbourne, or just lounge around in PosyTown… but it had been a while since we’d had a real break.

Back in March when Mr Posy mentioned that work was looking at sending him to a conference in Sydney, I was all over it like a rash. After checking the calendar, I discovered that the weekend following his conference was the Queen’s Birthday long weekend. I convinced Mr Posy to talk to his boss about taking the three days between his conference ending and the weekend as recreation leave; my boss was just back from a month-long jaunt around the US, so I knew I had bargaining power for the week off work.

When Mr Posy’s attendance at the conference and our leave was confirmed in April, I was quick to book my flights and our accommodation for the nights after the conference (that weren’t paid for by work). I started a “countdown” of work days to go on my calendar – only 57 days, woohoo! I started scheduling dates with friends. I’d been on edge for months – with everything that had been going on at work, with my family, with the in-laws – I was wrecked.

When the cool Sydney air hit my face as we walked out of the airport, I nearly burst into tears. Sydney has always felt like home – one day I hope that it will be. I’ve never felt as comfortable, or as happy, or as whole, as I do in Sydney… As sappy as that sounds.

Poor Mr Posy. He had a bit of a struggle on his hands, getting me on the return flight. I cried my eyes out, the entire plane-ride back to PosyTown.

Easter Weekend Wrap-Up

Are you enjoying your long weekend?

I’ve been looking forward to this little break since Christmas. I know I had a couple of days off for Niece Posy’s christening, but the trip to Melbourne really wasn’t very relaxing – I came home more tired than when I left. There has been a lot of relaxing happening this weekend in the Posy House, however.

We started our weekend with coffee at our favourite cafe, and the only open on Good Friday. When I worked at this cafe nearly four years ago, I absolutely hated working Good Friday – as one of the few cafes open it was always incredibly busy, we weren’t paid penalty rates, and I wanted to be home with my family… but now… now how the tables have turned!

Mr Posy has been looking forward to Thor for quite a while, and I thought it was fair to indulge him, especially as he always comes along to watch my chick-flicks. As somebody who isn’t a huge fan of comics, I enjoyed the movie. I’d say that I actually preferred Iron Man over Thor, but Mr Posy would be very disappointed in me…

I had a hankering for prawns late on Saturday, and as not much was open, it was down to the Wharf for dinner for us. The weather was a little warmer than earlier in the week, which was a shame, but the prawns were good!

Can you see the rainbow? I didn’t realise I’d captured it until I was home after my swim… I’ve been trying to get as many laps in as I can before the weather cools down and it gets too cold to swim. I’m such a PosyTownite (to my disgust) – I avoid the water for a good three or so months of the year!

Mr Posy’s Ma dropped by on Sunday with a carton of eggs. She’s been stopping by a lot lately, with milk, bread, apples, etc… So when she turned up with eggs I was a little egg-asperated (sorry, I couldn’t help myself!), as we have more than we can possibly get through in our fridge as is. When I realised they were warm, I open up the carton to find that they were boiled eggs… and they were red! I wasn’t entirely sure what I was supposed to do with them, but I did vaguely remember Mr Posy telling me about egg-cracking competitions with his father. When Mr Posy returned home, he confirmed that it was for a game – where we were to take turns cracking each others eggs…

I WON! Mr Posy went through 10 eggs, I went through 2 eggs, and was the “last man standing” (I’m not sure if it was my egg or my technique, but I was on a roll). Apparently I’m assured good luck for the rest of the year – I’ll take that!

Surprisingly, none of these were consumed… I gave up chocolate for Lent, and had this crazy idea where I thought I’d see if I can keep it up a little longer. I can’t tell you how tempting chocolate is, with it staring me in the face every time I open the fridge or freezer door, but… I feel good about this.

There was some gelato consumed however – down by the Waterfront. I was really surprised at just how many people were laying around in the hot sun. I know I tried the tanning-thing when I was in my teens (I never tanned, always went went lobster-red then peeled), but now that I’m in my 20s and old enough to know better? It makes me cringe. Haven’t I become quite the Tanning Prude..

I caught Mr Posy’s man-flu lurgy, and spent a good deal of the weekend on the couch watching trash cable (Park St, 16 and Pregnant, Teen Mom, Sex and the City, Wife Swap – you get the idea)… Yesterday it was at its worst, so I’m hoping that was the peak of it, and that now I’m on my way to recovery. It hasn’t been pleasant, let me tell you – muscle aches, sore ears, sore throat (my tonsils are huge!), my eyes are burning, it’s hard to breathe etc… However I’m not sure that it’s bad enough for three days off work like a certain Mr Posy somebody… Ahem.

Unfortunately thanks to the aforementioned lurgy, I missed the ANZAC Day Dawn Service and ANZAC Parade this year. I’ve been at my worst first thing in the morning, so I wasn’t able to drag myself out of bed early enough. I was glad that my brother wasn’t marching this year – I would have felt extremely guilty had he been! I did take time to reflect, however. Lest We Forget.

What’s Yours is Mine

When we found out that the second attempt at Niece Posy’s christening (after the first was cancelled thanks to a cyclone) would coincide with Apple selling the new iPad, Mr Posy was stoked. He was convinced that we would be bringing home an iPad 2.0 from Melbourne. I was doubtful.

His excitement started to dissipate as our trip to Melbourne grew closer, and his calls to various outlets enquiring about stock were fruitless. When his co-worker read out an article stating that iPads were sold out worldwide, he was heartbroken. His hope momentarily spiked after a call to the Chadstone Apple Store – they’d directed him to a web address where he’d be able to reserve his gadget. He later realised that we’d be on a plane at 9.00 pm, when the reservation system would be available. When we arrived at the hotel at 2.00 am, Mr Posy made a mad dash to check whether iPads were still available. I went to bed.

Accepting that he would be going home without a new iPad, Mr Posy admitted defeat and got into the spirit of enjoying our little break.

Park Hyatt, Melbourne

Does anyone else not take many photos when they’re on holidays? I’m always so paranoid that locals might think I’m a tourist that I often refuse to get my camera out. It probably doesn’t help that my trusted point and shoot died a painful death, and I hate carting my DSLR around… I snapped one quick photo of our hotel with my iPhone (when nobody was looking) to mark our visit, and got on with enjoying the city.

After subjecting Mr Posy to two days of traipsing around shops, High Tea, and lazing around the hotel’s heated pool and spa, I found out via Twitter that a friend had secured not one, but TWO iPads. I had to find out how she did it.

Lilli’s Mum advised me to try reserving an iPad again that night. There was no way I was telling Mr Posy what I was up to.

As we walked back to the Park Hyatt after a lovely dinner at Cecconi’s, I pulled out my phone and navigated to the right page. “Oh my gosh!” I gasped out loud. Bugger. I hadn’t meant that – it was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to whisk him out to the ‘burbs, and announce that we were picking up a new iPad once we reached the Apple Store. Too sloshed to lie, I came clean to Mr Posy. “I’ve reserved an iPad for us to pick up at Chadstone tomorrow!” I felt rather smug that I’d managed to secure an iPad when Mr Posy had not.

Mr Posy was beside himself with excitement. I was busy trying to work out how we were going to get out to Chadstone.

A tram, a bus, and an hour and a half later, we found ourselves in line at the Chadstone Apple Store. I hadn’t had breakfast and was beginning to get grumpy. I was not quite as excited or as patient as Mr Posy.

Treasure from the Apple Store

Forty minutes later, and I had a new iPad in my hands. Yes, my hands – I claimed the brand new iPad and so generously gifted Mr Posy my old iPad. Isn’t that how it works?

Right Here, Right Now

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Life has been a wee bit crazy in the Posy household.

I’ve written maybe 100 posts in my head in the shower/car/toilet over the past couple of months, but none have made it on to the page/computer screen/blog/whatever.

Mr Posy has been working a lot, and my friends are largely unavailable; I’m lonely. I’m teary all the time. I dread people asking how I am – I fear I’ll end up in a puddle of tears at their feet. Sort of like Alex Mack.

I have a job interview on Friday. For the position I’ve been sitting in for the past nine months. Everybody keeps saying that I’m going to nail the interview, but I’m not feeling so confident. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t win my job. Crawl under my doona and die of humiliation? I’ll cry, probably.

We had a cyclone. Only a small one. There was a lot of rain and wind, mostly, and a lot of trees were knocked down.

Cyclone carnage

We booked a short trip away. To Melbourne, for Niece’s Posy’s christening. Take Two. We were stuck in PosyTown because of the cyclone, and with the airport closed, we (and more importantly, the Godmother) couldn’t get to Melbourne until after the christening. So it was rescheduled. I need the break – I’m exhausted. Mr Posy made the mistake of telling the in-laws the hotel we had booked. Now they’ve booked there too. Is it pathetic if I ring the Park Hyatt, and ask to be on a completely different floor?

My in-laws want to build a granny flat in my backyard. It’s not happening, but it’s been stressful. They don’t understand why we don’t want them living in our backyard. They also can’t see how, when we move out, their living in the backyard will have a serious impact on our ability to attract tenants to rent our house. Our house was always going to be an investment property – and they always knew that. I wouldn’t want to live in a house/apartment where the owner lived next door, never mind in the backyard…

My mum is on the home stretch with chemo – she has one session to go, and then she’s done!

I had a birthday. I turned 26. It was a couple of months ago now, but it really was the best birthday ever.

Mr Posy learns to cook

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Mr Posy is learning to cook. Up until a couple of months ago he’d never so much as cracked an egg in his life, and he thought that raw cookie dough went on a tray into the fridge (until I explained they went in the oven to bake). Now you’d think he was cooking for his life. Or for a Top 12 spot on Junior Masterchef.

Not one to start off with something simple, like scrambled eggs, or toast, Mr Posy’s first dish was an omelette. An egg white omelette. I came out of the bedroom one morning to find him in the kitchen picking shells and egg yolk out of his egg white mix, and trying to work out whether the frying pan was hot enough. PosyDog and I settled into our front-row seats to watch history in the making.

Unfortunately, the pan had a little too much heat, and Mr Posy wasn’t quite quick enough in getting his ingredients into the pan (and was a little too generous with his vegetables), which resulted in… a bit of a mess, quite frankly. Mr Posy assures me that his dish was delicious, regardless of appearance. I skipped breakfast.

Mr Posy next decided to tackle crepes. Gluten-free crepes. Anybody who has ever cooked with gluten-free flour before will know that it can be a biotch painful to cook with, requiring a little extra liquid, and a lot of TLC. Thankfully, I recently found that White Wings make fantastic gluten-free flour – so fantastic that you’d never know you were eating a dish free from gluten – so I knew Mr Posy was in safe hands, but I was still scared nervous. He was a little heavy-handed with the Nutella, but otherwise they were pretty damn amazing. Even if his pan did have too much heat at first (recurring theme here?), which resulted in charred crepes. That promptly went in the bin.

After two dishes, Mr Posy had worked up some confidence, and decided that his next mission would be Bill Granger’s Ricotta Hotcakes with Honeycomb Butter. Gluten-free. I was dubious, given his track record.

His “secret” ingredient for the honeycomb butter was a Crunchie, with the chocolate scraped off.

“I have a good honeycomb recipe, if you want it?” I offered.

“No, it’s okay – this Crunchie is perfect!”

“I’m pretty sure Bill Granger doesn’t use butchered Crunchies in his honeycomb butter,” I teased.

I had to eat my words the following morning when Mr Posy served up the most delicious hotcakes I have ever tasted. Better than Bill Granger’s. The hotcakes were thinner than what Mr Posy had eaten at Bill’s, but they tasted less flour-y/dough-y. The honeycomb butter was to die for.

A few mornings of Ricotta Hotcakes for breakfast and I worried that I was going to start piling on the pounds. PosyDog came to my rescue and scoffed my breakfast one morning when I went left the room for a brief moment to get something. She was alone for less than two minutes, and she managed to demolish my hotcakes, banana and honeycomb butter. I came back to find her licking the plate clean.

Mr Posy later announced that he had “conquered breakfasts, and was moving on to dinners”. I bought him Jamie Oliver’s Ministry of Food (Anyone can learn to cook in 24 hours). He whipped up Jamie’s Lasagne that night. It took him 3 hours. I had avocado on toast for dinner.