Life as a box

A gentleman came out from a moving company yesterday to go through our rooms and cupboards and give us a quote on moving and storage for all of our stuff. He was very friendly and made me feel quite confident in having all our precious bits and pieces stored away with his company. In a bit of misdirected PR he gave Amelia a colouring book which she immediately started to chew, but he meant well. He wandered around and kept saying “whew, you’ll need a few book boxes” and “more pictures? wow…”. While traipsing along behind him I realised that we really do have a lot of junk. There are boxes and boxes of computer cables which no longer have any use, piles of paper which I am sure will be absolutely essential for some project some day and bags of fabric which I continue to buy convinced that each scrap will make the perfect bag / cushion / part of a quilt etc. So in light of this realisation I have started going through my stuff and throwing things away… the front hall is full of bags for the op-shop and I have a large “sell it on ebay” box growing by my desk.

Putting our stuff in storage is certainly an event. I never thought I would be one of those people who said “oh, yeah I have one of those, but it’s in storage”… it seems so glamorous – like we could drop everything and jet off overseas at any moment or house sit for an eccentric cultural studies professor in her inner-city mansion, or.. or… stay with my parents and be ongoingly frustrated that “it’s in storage”. What to keep out is a puzzle. Obviously the computer and associated accoutrements will have to come with me, and all our winter clothes and some summer ones just incase we have a heatwave, and some favourite cds and dvds and there’s the filing cabinet full of essential documents and client details. But what of those other items which are just as important for living but not necessarily in high rotation? Like for instance my copy of Delia Smith’s How to Cook Vol. 1 — because she really knows how to poach and egg and sometimes you just need to poach an egg. And come to think of it what if I suddenly get the urge to cook a Jamie Oliver risotto or a Donna Hay stack of pancakes (not likely) or even a Charmaine Solomon curry? Should I take all my cookbooks? Should I take all my art books incase I suddenly realise that I need to look up some artist for that perfect bit of colour inspiration. And speaking of colour should I take my pantone book? My stack of origami papers? My box of paper samples? How about my fiskars paper cutter? Should I take all my art clutter?

Forgetting that we are actually looking for somewhere to rent, I keep getting distracted by “for sale” brochures in real estate offices. How cute are these old milk-bar ice-cream lamps used as outdoor lighting?

Austin Powers lived here

Brunch in Carlton with blog friends old and new. Blogger gossip, blogger jokes and discussing blogging-boredom. Amelia was a very well behaved baby at the table, only threatening to spill a coffee once, squawking twice and mostly entertaining herself with a harmless but ongoing keen intent to chew on a menu. We will have to do that again – it was a lot of fun. Usually the weblog meetups happen at night which makes it near impossible for us to get to but these brunching alternatives are pretty nice. Perhaps we should organise a blog meet / thrift meet one Sunday at the flea markets?

Househunting resulted in more wild goose chases around the suburbs yesterday where we marveled at some of the scarier low-points of 70s home decorating including the house with “built-in” everything… yes, there was plenty of storage but the built-in bedbases, kitchen table and chairs and the room of cupboards were all a bit much… as was the really disgusting electric toothbrush built into the bathroom. All four houses we saw sucked for one or more reasons. I am really tired of walking into houses that have that deep yellow plush-yet-mouldy-looking 70s carpet.

I made some Martha Stewart Food Magazine cookies yesterday which are ok — but nowhere near as good as Princess Meg’s Birthday Cookies which will impress any mother’s group. Tried and true.

Folio Toting Super Mum

So today I went down to Albert Park to meet with an artist’s rep / agent / person-who-might-get-me-some-more-work type person. Mum and Amelia came along for the ride (truth be told, I got Mum to drive us and I am so glad she did because she was a superhero when it came to changing lanes to get onto Kings Way where as I would have been a screaming, jabbering mess) and with them both safely strapped in, I flung my folios into the back seat along side Amelia who was singing squealy songs and we headed West.

When we got there, Mum took Amelia for a wander around the block while I went into the agency and sat down in one of their big black lounge suites and waited to meet with the rep. I was given a form to fill in listing my skills and experience and so on while I listened to the receptionists answer the phone and talk about word documents. As I sat there I suddenly realised that I was sitting in the reception area of an agency about to have a business meeting and I got all overcome and nervous. I realised that there was a bit of baby vomit on the collar of my polar fleece and then it occurred to me that I was wearing a polar fleece and that my eyebrows haven’t seen a pair of tweezers for ummm – (how long has Amelia been around?) 7 months… and my hair is really shaggy and unkempt in a very messy pony tail with the odd grey hair springing forth (long time between colours)… and I’m a MUM and there goes Amelia in her pusher wheeling past the window being pushed by my mum… I didn’t feel terribly professional at all!

But the rep came out and looked through my folio and was so very nice and relaxed and complimentary about my work and the way I have been growing my business that before I knew it I was having a pretty good time.

Afterwards Mum, Amelia and I sat outside a patisserie (which is what they have in Albert Park) in the chilly May sunshine and sipped hot coffees. Mum had a pastry that was shaped like an apple and I went for the chocolate croissant. We discussed how we might move to Albert Park and do this kind of thing all the time.

So we shall see what shall become of all that – perhaps some new clients. Regardless, it’s good to get out there and do businessy things from time to time even if I did realise mid conversation that there was a crusty blob of chicken-sweet potato baby food stuck to the side of my shoe.