Saying goodbye

After a long period of limbo, it's time for us to pack up and leave. We are doing our best to make a holiday a stressful experience by shifting house at the same time as going away. We've been in the same apartment for around 5 and a half years, but just can't justify paying three months rent on a place that we have never really liked. So it's time to pack up.

It's surprising and almost embarrassing to discover how much stuff we have accumulated over the years. But to our great credit, we are also good at chucking stuff out when we don't need it. It just seems that we now 'need' a whole lot more than we did when we moved in.

It's also nice to have an opportunity to dispense with medications, herbs, spices and sauces that all reached their expiry dates back in 2009. I'm not sure that Dettol can actually go off, but I don't fancy treating an open wound with a product that could potentially have gone rancid. Well, not my own open wound.

Although we have had many happy memories in the past few years, this house has also been our home during some of the most stressful times in both our lives. Symbolically erasing some of those memories will be satisfying.

I'm sure there'll still be some time for nostalgia. It will be particularly sad saying goodbye to Russell's room and to the house where Pepper and Other Sizzles lived. And our red feature wall will also be missed.

Yesterday we also had to temporarily say goodbye to Sizzles. She's going to be well loved and cared for in her new home, but it's still hard to let go. The poor pooch was scared stiff yesterday when she got to my friend's place. As mentioned in an earlier post, Sizzles will be sharing a house with a very energetic black lab called Roxy. Roxy is such a lovely dog, and abundantly friendly. Unfortunately she is just learning to understand that not every dog shares her enthusiasm for running around and playing. Sizzles could certainly be described as 'not sharing enthusiasm'.

When we reintroduced them (after having done introductions a few weeks ago), Sizzles kept trying to get away. When that failed, she went for the tried and true method of standing dead still with her head stuck in a corner. She was going with the "if I can't see you, you can't see me" theory. This met with limited success. We coaxed Sizzles into a little more civility after that. Nobody likes a rude whippet.

We sorted out some happy sleeping arrangements and the dogs were separated throughout the day today. They will continue to get used to each other and will probably end up snuggled up together on the couch at some point - they just need to get each other's vibe. I'm pleased to know that Sizzles is in the best place possible for her, with a loving family, a warm house, and another pooch for company.

You can lead a whippet to faux sheepskin

When we head overseas next month, we'll be leaving behind our lovely old whippet, Sizzles. Sizzles is 15 now and has slowed down a lot over the last couple of years. Her main loves are treats and sleep; sleep, of course, being the ultimate treat.

Luckily we have a wonderful friend who is taking care of Sizzles for the three months that we are away. Sizzles will have to become besties with a young and exuberant black lab named Roxy. Perhaps even more of a shock to her system will be living and sleeping outdoors. She's always been an inside dog, so it's going to take some getting used to. We are most anxious to make sure that she is warm enough overnight.

To make sure she's as comfortable as possible, we have just bought her a faux sheepskin-lined bed/sleeping bag. It's an ingenious construction with a soft yet firm padded mattress base with a soft fluffy lining. Your average dog can push its nose through the wide and inviting opening to work its way inside the bed - just like a sleeping bag. So once the dog is inside, it is enveloped in faux-sheepskin warmth. Whippet heaven.

I have tested her out on the bed, helping her to find the entrance and giving her a gentle push into the bed. And she loves it. She curled up straight away, satisfied.

Unfortunately, she is a dog of very little brain. She can't figure out how to get back into the bed under her own steam. She kind of looks at the entrance, pokes her nose in, decides it's too hard, and just approaches the bed from side on and sleeps on top of it. No faux-sheepskin. You can lead a whippet to faux sheepskin, but can't make her snuggle. She may need some further enticement. But she's not the smartest dog, so who knows if enticements will be sufficient.

Can't say we didn't try.

Good Sizzles:

Bad Sizzles:

MIFFed

I went to a Werner Herzog film at the Melbourne International Film Festival on Saturday, a documentary called Into the Abyss. It's a commentary on the death penalty in the USA.

I'm pretty obsessed with the failures of the American justice system. Paradise Lost and Murder on a Sunday Morning are two examples. Each followed the trials of murder accused who cannot possibly have been guilty. Both films perfectly illustrate why the death penalty should be abandoned. They are examples of people facing either death penalties or lengthy prison terms for crimes they didn't commit. Seeing the mistakes of the justice system and the extreme hardship that falsely accused people endure makes me outraged.

I expected the same kind of outrage from Into the Abyss - I was primed for some falsely accused gasping and gnashing. Fist shaking was a distinct possibility. Those American courts and prisons sure were going to feel some wrath from me.

Instead there was a different kind of outrage - MIFF played the wrong film. It wasn't completely wrong - not like playing Bambi instead of Robocop - but it was still wrong. Into the Abyss is a feature length documentary, and is supported by four episodes on the same theme, each profiling a convicted murderer on death row. MIFF just played two of the episodes; no feature. No announcement was made; MIFF didn't know it was the wrong thing. So that was pretty dumb.

But it gets worse. After the first of the two episodes, the credits started rolling and peeps started leaving. I did an embarrassing half-stand, half-sit manoeuvre for about twenty seconds or so. The only thing that kept me in the cinema was a vague feeling that I hadn't seen the guy whose photo was in the program. So when the next episode started rolling, I was pleased that I stayed. The second subject's name flashed up on screen, so the audience knew that it was a new episode, even though it started with identical footage to the first.

Within a minute or two the story moved on and we met some new characters who were clearly nothing to do with the first episode. But a couple of minutes further into the second episode and MIFF stopped the screening and made an apology - something along the lines of 'obviously we're having some technical problems with the film and it has skipped back to the start. We're just going to find where we were up to and restart the film from there'. The crowd remonstrated. Hands were thrown loosely aloft. The Alphas yelled out that there was no problem and they should just press play again. I huffed and rolled my eyes, exerting a strong influence on proceedings.

The poor lady (my compassion is only a product of hindsight) came back to the front two or three minutes later and announced that, alas, there was no technical problem and that it was [gasp] a new episode. The ironic groans brought a beetroot flush to the announcer's face as she slunk off. We rejoined the action back near the start of the second episode. But MIFF still didn't realise that the episodes they were playing were not actually the film. Of course I didn't realise it either, but I'm not running a film festival.  For a so-called International Film Festival, it was quite an embarrassment.

I came home and read the program. That's when I found out for sure that they had played the wrong film. I called the info line to find out what was going on. Apparently they hadn't even received the film from the supplier and had to request that a copy be sent to them asap. Hopefully I get a chance for some more rightful indignation when the proper film is screened later in the festival.

Olympic special

Every four years we get the pleasure of seeing minority sports on TV. And many of them are the rightful domain of the minority. But some are better than others. I recently had a fun online conversation on this topic with a friend:

XX: Would you prefer to be an Olympic champion High Jumper or Pole Vaulter?

Me: High jumper.

XX: Long Jumper or Triple Jumper?

Me: Long jumper. Triple jump is silly. Why triple rather than double or quadruple? At least long jump makes sense.

XX: Weightlifting or Wrestling?

Me: That's not as easy. Um, probably go the weightlifting. Weightlifting you are the clear champion - you lifted more than anyone else. Wrestling you only beat whoever you get drawn against, so there are 20 or 30 other blokes in the competition that you haven't beaten.

XX: Good logic. Shot Put, Hammer Throw or Javelin (with rationale)?

Me: Hammer is shithouse. What a crap sport. Shot put is a bit poohs too because it is one of those "throw it as far as you can, but you can only do it using a prescribed technique, even though other techniques would allow you to propel it further". Shithouse. So Javelin .

XX: Disagree with you on the hammer.

Me: Nobody asked for your opinion.

XX: I like the fact that it involves spinning around.

Me: That's true - it looks cool. And the bloopers are amazing.

XX: The bloopers are great, agreed. Ask me one now. I wanna play my own game.

Me: Would you rather win gold as part of a hockey team, or part of a track cycling team?

XX: I think cycling, as it is a more pure endeavour. As in, cycle the fastest and you will win. In hockey, you could technically play poorly and still manage to win.

Me: Hockey final - you can score a hat trick, play wonderfully well and lose. Or you have a terrible game, make several mistakes, are a liability, but win gold. Choose.

XX: Gold all the way baby. I am Australian, remember? [Based on current performance at 2012 Olympics, perhaps this should be "silver all the way baby". Ed.]

Me: Marathon or 200m?

XX: Ummm... obviously 200m doesn't have the glory of the 100m.

Me: I know, it was a carefully considered question in that respect.

XX: Yes. Hmm. I will say marathon for that moment that you run into the stadium.

Me: Good answer. Gymnastics - rings or pommel horse?

XX: Rings - less ball danger. Next.

Me: Ok. Diving or shooting?

XX: Diving. you don't normally get to show off your nipples in the shooting.

Me: Hmmm. I'm not sure I can accept that reasoning.

XX: Ok. Let me think of a genuine answer. Both are pretty pointless endeavours.

Me: True, but I guess being a good olympic shooter would also make you a good hunter/sniper? Whereas being a good diver would allow you to enter the water smoothly at pool parties.

XX: True, in Australian culture there would be more of a social advantage to being a good diver as opposed to a good shooter.

Me: Not in Far North Queensland

XX: OK, diving it is. I like the idea of being silent and alone with your thoughts whilst underwater. With perhaps only the muffled din of an adoring crowd.

Me: Haha. OK, last one... um... walking or ... um...

XX: I will choose the one that is not walking.

Me: I know, that's why I am trying hard to think of something equally crap. To make you think about it. I'm consulting the list.

XX: I'd take the walking over dressage. I'm not even giving a reason.

Me: Ha. No, my final question is... walking or... SYNCHRONISED SWIMMING?

XX: ooh.

Me: That could be you

XX: I'll choose walking. Either way i'm gonna look like a tool.

Me: Gotcha.