January 7. Day 7. A sizable problem

 I am fully aware that discussing a lady's weight is impolite but this lady is a bitch so here goes.
Winkle weighs a grand total of three kilos.
No photo adequately captures just how tiny she is compared to her "big" brother Rumple who weighs 10 kilos.
 If she was a human she might be said to have a Napoleon complex making up for her small size with a very big, bossy personality.
And most of the time Rumple lets her walk all over him, often literally. We all do.
And then when you least expect it, Rumple will put his paws down and exercise his rights as first born.
Today was such a day. We went for a walk, heading for the University of Queensland lakes.... or so I thought. It was a plan that had the Winkle seal of approval but Rumple decided otherwise. When we arrived at the intersection where we should head down the hill Rumple simply put on the brakes and refused to move. He then turned and pulled us all in the direction of the dog park.
No amount of lead pulling was going to convince him otherwise.
He wanted to go to the dog park so we went to the dog park.
Now of course I do have a height and weight advantage over both of them but when the purpose of the outing is "taking the dogs for a walk" it seems reasonable that the dogs have some say in where they end up.
It might have been nice to visit the ducks and the turtles at UQ but they'll be there next time, whenever Rumple decides that might be appropriate.
Besides there are worse things a girl can do than sit in a dog park and watch two small and furry creatures having a ball.

January 6. Day 6. A feather in my cap

You know what it's like when you've had a heavy cold with blocked ears and then they pop and you can hear again.
Oh the relief.
The simple joy of being able to hear. Being deaf sucks. If I honest trying to converse with someone who can't hear is also pretty bloody frustrating.
So the idea that my neighbour Margaret was going to wait until the end of the month to visit the hearing aid specialist seemed unpalatable. That's when the audiologist visits the local GP, a venue she can manage on her own. But in the city, there are appointments all the time. So I volunteered to go with her.  She was just so grateful and promised to buy me lunch in return. She told the staff at the audiologist that I was "special". And the cab driver on the way home got to hear about my dogs and how I bring them in to visit her.
Of course, she didn't actually get to hear what they said in reply because the problem is not yet resolved. We have to repeat the journey on Monday. And once again the birds and my dogs will be waiting for our return so they can enjoy some Margaret mince.

January 5. Day 5. Stinging assessment

Here is a stinging assessment of self.
I am a walking cliche. Actually, I wish it was ONLY that bad. Let's start with the cliche. Anyone who has indulged in enough popular culture will have seen it.
The tragic individual eating a whole extra large tub of ice cream whilst sobbing, often whilst watching a tragic chick flick.
Now I don't believe anyone actually does that, at least no-one over the age of about 15. But tonight I did ... in public.
It goes like this. Place: BlueRoom Cinebar. Movie: Edge of Seventeen. Icecream: Baskin-Robbins chocolate large tub meant for two. Now this was a charming little movie all about teen angst, coming of age, isolation and depression and friendship and relationships.
It was funny and sad but pretty much to formula. 
But for some reason it kicked me in the guts and my eyes leaked. Not just once but several times. And then the tub of ice cream I'd ordered to share arrived in my seat. And I shovelled the ice cream into my mouth as the tears rolled down my cheeks.
 OMG.
How embarrassing.
At least it was dark.
And now I feel really, really sick from all the ice cream which is yet another cliche.
Now excuse me, I'd better get a bucket. I'm going to throw up.

January 4. Day 4. Flying saucer

I love kids. I love watching their little brains and bodies learn things by imitation, intuition and trial and error. This afternoon I watched Elliott throwing the Frisbee he received from his uncle for Christmas. Elliott is not yet three but he had been shown how to hold your body and the disc and he was executing it like a champion. He had all the moves and the style. He worked that he was stronger when he wound up his body to the left and he had the follow through of a master. While not every throw went exactly where it was intended, many did and with a great deal of height and flight. Bloody impressive. That young man will be an aeronautical engineer or an elite athlete or perhaps both. Of course it doesn't really matter as long as he continues to get the same sense of enjoyment out of life, he'll go far.

January 3. Day 3. I'm for ever blowing bubbles

Researchers in the field of psychoacoustics confirm that high pitch squealing noises are the most unpleasant to the human ear. It is possible, the researchers speculate, these noises sound not unlike the alarm calls of our primate relatives and thus we react as a precautionary measure. Or it could be the human ear amplifies these sounds which is what makes them unpleasant. But high pitch squeals are not all equal. Fingernails down a chalk board suck. We all know that. But the happy squeals of a toddler playing with bubbles, well that's another thing all together. My little buddy Elliott and his mum Alison came over to play today today. In all honesty while he was happy to see "Auntie Susan" the main game was the dogs, especially Winkle. Winkle has about the same level of energy and the desire to play with the ball and bubbles as Elliott does. The joy of both is infectious and exhausting and not in the least bit unpleasant proving again there are exceptions to every rule.

January 2. Day 2. Hitting the bottle

Keep hydrated. That's the advice of all the emergency services for dealing with the heat. Without doubt, this is a good way of ensuring you don't die of heat exhaustion. But it will take a bit more than glasses of ice water to feel comfortable on a day like today.
The slogan for Queensland says beautiful one day, perfect the next" and mostly this is true. But there are days when words such as putrid and stinking come closer to the actuality.
Thus I did the only sensible thing - hid in the air conditioning with occasional breaks in the pool.
In the late afternoon, I did venture from the house. I drove in the air conditioned car to the air conditioned cinema.
There was no walk for the dogs - even though they have their summer haircuts, a walk seemed cruel. The heat of the footpath under their paws would have been torture. So they stayed inside as well. Their exercise involved Winkle battling Rumple to build a collection of all the dog chews left from Christmas. She won. She always does. And then the rain came and we all felt like winners.

January 1. Day 1. Onwards and upwards

Here we go again. This is the 1828th day in a row I have blogged my life. Madness, especially since it was meant to be for a year. Some people never know when to give up.
I shall start the year with a summary of 2016 in my family's life as written for the annual Christmas letter.

Susan

Passed a quarter of a million page views on her blog (well almost)

Was accepted on a Poynter Institute Media Innovations study tour to the US

Continued to hate marking with a burning passion

Relished being able to see more than 250 stage productions as ABC Radio’s Brisbane theatre reviewer

Ate more calories in a week in the US than in the whole of the rest of the year

Cared more than is strictly necessary for the old lady who lives next door

Said “the roads are no longer safe” rather a lot

Charles

Passed Silver Frequent Flyer status with Qantas

Was accepted as a member of the Institute of Public Accountants

Continued to hate Australian tabloid newspapers with a burning passion

Relished the opportunity to run the successful Australian National Bridge Championship

Ate anywhere he could find that served Scotch egg, black pudding or  kippers

Cared more than is strictly necessary about the politics of bridge

Said  “where’s the remote control?” rather a lot

Oliver

Passed his driver’s licence test

Was accepted into the Bachelor of Fine Arts (Drama) at QUT for 2017

Continued to hate the lack of a girlfriend with a burning passion

Relished being a full time acting student

Ate at restaurants more often than reasonable for a person with no income

Cared more than is strictly necessary about the Hamilton, the American musical

Said “pass me a cider” rather a lot

Rumple and Winkle

Passed the 5500 followers mark on their Instagram account @pawfectpetential

Accepted the need to pose for hundreds of photos for Instagram

Continued to hate the cat next door with a burning passion

Relished all opportunities to steal and eat undies

Ate more chicken breasts than most humans

Cared more than is strictly necessary about the movements of the neighbourhood cat

Said “we’ll get that cat one day” rather a lot

As  I shall not speak for the others I shall now predict what I'll be saying about 2017. It is possible my crystal ball is a bit hazy

 In 2017, Susan

Passed the test needed to join the space program

Accepted a nobel prize

Continued  to enjoy working out with a burning passion

Relished being a lady of leisure after retiring early due to a Lotto win

Ate a healthy balanced diet

Cared more about her washboard stomach than strictly necessary

Said  "I bet you wish you were me" rather a lot

In the unlikely event of any or all of those things not happening, I'd accept ending the year still enjoying time with all my nearest and dearest around, feeling tired less often and a few kilos lighter. Is that too much to ask?