Sandro Season

Well the season of The Great Sandro is well and truly underway. In fact sportsball may be nigh halfway over already, such is the speed at which life flies by One these days. Why it hardly seems a day since One shook the dust off The Tales and yet, apparently, it has been more than a lunar cycle.

In any case, as well as purveying stereovisual sportsball presentations - and even one purely auditory occasion - One has been making the sacrificial journeys to worship at the temples of sportsball once again this year. Of course one was accompanied by The Great Sandro and his nigh constant chatter about the game, life happenings in general, and "Phill don't you think that should have been a free kick back in the first quarter".

The most recent pilgrimage was thanks to the timely supply of golden tickets by Lofty and involved one finally achieving long-deserved admittance to the Reserved section.
It turned out to be a bit of a letdown as One found found it to be just the standard section with a reserved chair cover at the end of every row.

The game itself was a tense bought of okay for 3 quarters and then a ridiculous celebration for the final quarter.

One was buzzing for the entirety of the journey home - although in hindsight the buzzing may have just been The Great Sandro chatting away.

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The Festival of Neety

The eponymous event was, this year, a sprawling pentadiem in honour of the hatching of Salsa Girl. Given the secluded nature of the current times the event was stretched out over the full five days with Hulk and I doing our best to provide enough small joys for Salsa Girl to equal the joy of the usual gifting and out in the world excursioning and feasting.

So as the five day festival finally draws to a close we can take heart that the hidden messages, flowers, clue hunts, feasting, massaging, rummy-playing, and other sundry undertakings, seem to have done the job - although fingers crossed that the lack of the usual important footy game at this time of year has not marred Salsa Girl's experience.

The only thing remaining, as One mashes out this post with claw-like hands mangled from five days of massaging, is to see the long, long recovery period to completion.

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Goodbyeing Groovy Spirits

So it's been more than a week since the sad occasion of saying one's goodbyes to Groovy Spirits.

She of the spirits had shown great spirit in her year long fight and it is a bit of a shock to hear that she - who was so full of life and energy at one's combination farewell and Library Xmas party - had not prevailed.

One made the trip south with Hulk for emotional support to partake in the farewell along with her family and other friends/workmates. Upon arrival we joined those numbering beyond the 20 officially allowed inside during these times of plague, and lurked at the outskirts of the foyer. Luckily there was an external speaker system so we were able to hear both the eulogy and the poignant speech made by Big J - both of which touched on the fun and foibles of life and friendship with Groovy Spirits.

Afterwards - well, after some hours worth of Hulk-led traipsing through the grounds - there was attendance at a further gathering at the library to commemorate further. A sadness-tinged catch up with old workmates occurred before we were homeward bound again.

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Oh Spirits, the distance of first your long leave and then one's disenfranchisement of employment had lead to a distance and lack of news making it easy to assume everything was going okay.

I was already missing our work hours spent talking footy, and our work hours spent talking books, and our work ours spent talking shows - and we never did get to compare opinions on the ending to Game of Thrones - and now I just have the memory of those many, many, many hours.
(Poor Roysgirl had to bear the full load of One's biological need to talk footy for the last season, and has suffered greatly for it as I'm sure you'd understand.)

For those snippets of work we'd fit in between the talking, I missed having your apostrophe hunting skills available for One's project documentation, and I shall kind-of miss those times when we butted heads about things, but most missed will be the exuberant energy that filled the workroom when you were there.

I'm sure I'll slip up and text you during an exciting part of a footy game in the coming years and then wait in vain for one of your "sorry I was too drunk to watch the last quarter" replies.

Vale Ursula.

Far too soon does not describe things nearly well enough.
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Packin’ Up The House

So, one has been a tad busy this past week or so packing up one’s old stomping ground in preparation for a Grand upgrading of facilities. 

Along with the likes of Mr Prada, Days of our Libraries, Country Girl, The Maple Maverick, and Sidekick, One has been dismantling technical equipment, moving furniture and uncovering dust bunnies not seen since the Jurassic (and the other half of that delicious biscuit one lost down the side of one’s old desk back in the Spring of ‘08). 

It has been quite an exercise in lifting, carrying, and cord untangling and it has proven tiring for one to direct all that frenzied activity. 

Going Solo

Of course previous weeks have also been busy as One was left to one’s own devices several weekends ago and forced to go solo with Salsa Girl and Hulk off to the sunnier Northern climes of Bendigo. 

... With Solo

The first solo occasion was marked by spending the evening with Sneaky Pete and BrotherStealer watching one’s copy of Solo which refuses to play on one’s blue ray. 

It was an enjoyable evening of of visual and gastronomic feasting. 

... with The Great Sandro

One’s next solitary activity was an expedition to that horrible stadium that is far from Marvel-lous to watch the Pies not play at all. 

Joining one in solitude were The Great Sandro and Sneaky Pete. The less said about the experience the better. 

After all that Solo activity the following weeks became a blur of work and school holidays - I am fairly sure that I attended the correct one. 

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Traditional Easter

So, this Easter break was another traditional Easter with all the traditional Easter holiday activities and holiday day names.

Starting with the traditional Evening-Before-Good-Friday footy watching, wherein it was good to see the pies back on track.

Continuing with the traditional Saturday-After-Good-Friday-and-Before-Easter-Sunday gaming day of Magic playing with Sneaky Pete, Gavman, ElfBoy, and Commander Fry, all partaking in some traditional Magic card playing (absent were BestFriendSincePrep and MatrixMan, both partaking in non-traditional going away for Easter).

Next was the traditional Easter-Sunday-Two-Days-After-Good-Friday-and-One-Day-Before-The-Monday-After-Easter-Sunday early wakeup and hunt for fluffy little chickens and eggs with Salsa Girl and Hulk. One will be discovering the things in odd places for weeks to come.

And finally today on the Monday-After-Easter-Sunday holiday it is time for the traditional what do we do with an extra day of holidays day. Incorporating all of the traditional too much chocolate events.
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The Start of Footy Expedition

So this Friday past a great expedition was undertook to purvey the first footy game of the season.

The trains were uncharacteristically on time as The Great Sandro and I headed in early to the venue.

Joining us in the vicinity was Sneaky Pete direct from work, and we all made the journey across the MCG parkland/carpark.

As we approached the entry to the sportsplace we were impressed that there was so little crowd at such an early time. Especially as it was touted to be a blockbuster and online tickets were going to cost us upwards of $160 altogether, compared to the $55 and oneself free for just turning up early for general admission.

Entering the ground One was almost overcome with the large amount of seating choice. Eventually we decided on a location and settled in the setting sunlight to await the relief of some shade in the stands.

The match began a scant two hours later and we were all enthralled in what was a scrambly error prone mess of a game that showed that new high-score encouraging rules can't do much to make players kick straight.

Half time saw us swoop on the idea that it had to get better as the players must be warmed up now. Wherein we had to endure a continuation of the low scoring motif for the second half.

The final siren finally blew to indicate finality for the game and the magpies had lost our first one for the season.

The Great Sandro commenced his usual stream of "Well you have to be happy for me, we won, and I got to see Gary Ablett in person"

We eventually headed home using our slingshot-train-into-the-city-and-back-out method to procure seats for the journey home method.

All in all a grinding evening to celebrate the start of the footy season.
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The End of Footy Expedition

So this Sunday past a great expedition was undertook to purvey the final footy game of the season.

As the trains were uncharacteristically in disarray, Hulk and oneself collected The Great Sandro and drove to the vicinity of the venue.

Joining us in the vicinity were Sneaky Pete and Mirri Cat Warrior and we all made the journey across the bridge to the promised land of Victoria Park.

As we approached the free entry sportsplace we were informed by neon-clad officials that we had to go around to the proper entrance instead of walking up and over the hill.
Entering the ground One expected The Great Sandro to burst into flames - a fate the hot day actually threatened for all attendees not just #@%&! Carlton supporters - however naught happened in that regard and we promptly made our way to some shade in the stands.

Choice of seating was left up to Hulk who decided that the midst of a pride of Lions supporters was the primest of seating. One breathed deeply to remain calm.

The match began and we were all enthralled in what was important. Cries of "Go Pies!", came from oneself and Sneaky Pete,  "I don't really know what's going on" from Mirri Cat Warrior, and "I'm bored, where are the chips" from Hulk.

Half time saw us swoop on the chips - as the Magpies had swooped on the lions - and then return to the blessed shade. Wherein we had to endure a low scoring second half.

After crawling through the constantly under attack second half the final siren finally blew to indicate finality for the game and the magpies had won our first one for the season!!

Hulk commenced vigorous flag waving, song singing, and cries of "I've never been so happy!!"

Post-match running all over the field was indulged accompanied by shouts of "I want to be a footballer" and practice tumbling to the ground.

We eventually headed home accompanied by much humming of the theme song emanating from the back seat.


All in all a great day to celebrate the end of the footy season.
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The Ceremonial End

So it turns out that the luck from lucky jocks can run out if they are worn for the entire finals month of football.
And when it runs out it is two minutes too soon.
And you end up suffering a devastating whisking away of the purest form of happiness that is a sporting win.
And no amount of thinking "it's only football" can console oneself.

Sigh.
So having Sneaky Pete, The Great Sandro, Hulk, and Salsa Girl, all watching the game with oneself in one's home seemed like a good idea - especially with all but The Great Sandro draped in the black and white.
Things seemed good at first. And then nervous for a while. Then suddenly good again. Then even more nervous. And finally settled on terribly disappointing.

The Great Sandro showed his usual lack of concern for our passionate despair with nigh suicidal comments along the lines of "you have to admit, Phill and Pete, that it's good for me because my betting on Eagles who I don't support won me money"

Luckily Hulk was there to occupy one's lap with her inherited disappointment in the result and give some perspective on life versus sport.

All that remained after the game was the traditional end of footy season ceremonial burning of the lucky jocks - a process Salsa Girl thoroughly endorses as she is big on tradition and ceremony.

And so, with the end of football season, one now turns one's thoughts to the next season of import ... Gaming Season!

One expects a multitude of thoughts about boardgames and card games to soon displace the currently frequent PTSD flashbacks.
Because, after all, it is only football.
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Luck All Around

So it looks like One's lucky jocks have once again done the trick and the Pies are in the Grand Final. One is still amazed at the way the game went - I even wondered at one stage if I had uncharacteristically fallen asleep on the couch and it was all a dream.



And to further prove the luckiness of the jocks one was involved in a spill in the shower this morn' whilst not wearing them - that will teach me the value of keeping the lucky jocks on for the whole month of finals.

Even as one began a downward trajectory on the suddenly slippery tiles the closeness of the jocks that one reached out for in desperation was enough to confer some luck as one hit the ground with relatively little damage other than some strain on ones dodgy knee and a touch of ego bruising as the bumped taps now showered cold water down upon one's sprawled person.

Of course Salsa Girl and Hulk came rushing to one's rescue on hearing the high-pitched manly squeal, and proceeded to provide tap turning off, warm towels, other assorted assistance, and timely advice such as "daddy, you should be careful when your brain is tired in the morning".

After completing one's ablutions and once more donning the lucky jocks one was lucky enough to be able to still go to work for the day.
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Finals Footy

So last Saturday eve saw One's first footy finals attendance since a pair of Grand Finals back in '10, and the first finals with The Great Sandro.

It came about when Salsa Girl made the tactical error of proclaiming, "What time are you going to the footy on Saturday?"
One's first response was, "I am? ..... I mean 6pm"

A hurried scramble ensured a trio of high-altitude seats for Sneaky Pete, The Great Sandro, and Oneself.

We were treated to a tight back and forth game with the correct result in the end.

One had thought Sandro to be lost when he failed to return to his seat after being left in a rather long queue for hot chocolate. It turns out he was merely staying where he was watching on a TV so that the good run the giants were making didn't finish. Silly superstitious sports fan.

So anyway, as I sit here still in my lucky jocks, I am lamenting the inability to acquire tickets for this weeks blockbuster which leaves One having to watch the game in the warm, comfortable, environment of one's living room.
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Gimme Shelters

So one recently finished reading the latest, and penultimate, Earth's Children volume - The Shelters of Stone by Jean M Auel. It is all Salsa Girl's fault having started me on the series and now it is a path from which One cannot turn away.

It was an okay read, with a fair amount of semi-interesting "look at the research I have done" and a slim plot in it's thick voluminous pages. I would say give it a miss unless you really need to know what happens to the characters or are one of those people who has to read the series to the end aka the Wheel of Tedium Time problem.



Speaking of shelter, One could sure have used more of it on Saturday when One attended the footy with The Great Sandro. In the arctic conditions I began thinking that I may have had to lose one of the expedition in order to have more of the fleecy blanket we spent the match huddled under.

Still at least the pies came alive at the end and One was able to perform many warming leaps and roars of celebrations.

And now the pies are in the finals - which should be a much appreciated warm living room in front of the telly type of experience.
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Baby at the Big Footy

With the loss last week of a prominent front tooth Hulk decided it was time for her first trip to the Big Footy.

Thus we dutifully bestowed ourselves in the black and white and headed off in the sunshine and wind for the Sunday afternoon match.

Hulk was excited to be squashed into her first footy train and chatted amiably with the nearby 'pies fans.

On arrival we traipsed through the park land to the entrance and shuffled inside before hiking up the many flights of stairs to the top.
The very top.
You see Hulk just kept going like a stair climbing machine until she reached the upper back row of seats. When one finally caught up with her "we" decided to go back down to where the people were and settle in for the match.

We had a great quarter and a half of flag-waving cheering and taking it all in. then things slowed down slightly and boredom set in for one of us and frustration for the other. Determining which is left as an exercise for the reader.

After suffering through the third quarter we decided to head home while there were no crowds, only to just miss a train and therefore have to wait and catch a rather squashy one anyway.

Upon returning home we had a family movie watching of Finding Nemo which helped to remove the rather dissatisfying performance of one's footy team from one's mind.

I am yet to determine whether Hulk is now an aficionado of footy attendance but I do know she is an aficionado of footy chips so I suspect she will be keen to go again.
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Fungi Friends and Freezing Footy

So this Friday last was another regular catch up organised by The Fungi Lady.

Also in attendance were:

• the regular Doom and Non-Gamin' Megan
• the slightly irregular Amoeba
• the highly irregular The Bastard.
• and, apparently, the completely non-regular MatrixMan conveniently gone before ones stunning entrance

It being nigh on a score of years since one had conversed with The Bastard a large part of the evening was spent on discussing topics various - work, current gaming undertakings, the gamers we both guided through our adventures, the very dad topic of our gifted children.
We both agreed that dealing with the tantrums, smart phone addictions, fussy eating, and stinky body smells made looking after our little girls a pleasure compared with all that gamer stuff.

All in all a great night that was over too soon and one looks forward to honoring the fungi ladies next organising effort.



Speaking of outings that could have ended earlier... one spent Sunday twilight attending the footy with The Great Sandro in 10 degree temperatures (plus a wind chill factor that lowered the temp to sub-zero by one’s reckoning).

To make matters worse the pies provided few opportunities for vigorous, joyful, and warming, leaping to one's feet.

Still, as they say, a win is a win, even if one does have to be chiseled free from the ice at the end.
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Mother's Days

So the past month has been keeping one busy with events various and also lovely IT events various.

The main event was, of course, the elegant significant birthday of Grandma J. Held at a lovely country estate in the outskirts of Kyneton. Salsa Girl, Hulk and oneself made the journey out and arrived for much exploring, conversation, and digesting, amongst a slew of relatives.

Event the second was the, now traditional, mums head off to enjoy a kid and dad free lunch together. A (brilliant?) idea of Salsa Girl's which was apparently enjoyed by all - even though they did miss out on the 30 minute drum-based concert performance of the kid's well known hit "Get out of the Garage!!"


Of course One did manage to squeeze in the second gaming Sunday for the year in the midst of this hive of activity, along with some fervent footy watching, heapings of frustrating IT troubleshooting, and a smidgen of progressing projects.

One hopes now that a rest period can commence and One can catch up on one's much neglected lazing around.
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The Exercise of ANZAC Traditions

A week ago now one took the opportunity to exercise one's ANZAC traditions.

These commenced with a long sleep in.

Things then proceeded on to Salsa Girl, Hulk and I hosting the traditional footy watching with The Great Sandro, Sneaky Pete, ElfBoy and family all in attendance. Much fun was had by all since the correct team won this year, or, in Lil' Trucker's case, trains went past out the back every 10 minutes causing much excitement.

Traditions continued into the evening with the weekly gaming night ending with the traditional post-midnight finish.
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Regular Pilgrimage and Unicorn Lore

So in the past week one has once again made the pilgrimage to the great shrine and attended the footy with The Great Sandro and Sneaky Pete.

After a cold-pies start Sneaky Pete and I were soon treated to a magnificent hot-pies show before the whole thing wound down into a luke-warm finish at the end. Still, as they say in the game, a win's a win.

True to form The Great Sandro was a font of trivia and questions and not much caring about the state of his beloved Carlton. One believes we all had a good night and even kept our spirits during the sardine can journey home squeezed in with all those Hurstbridge line interlopers catching our train to get to their buses during the rail line works.

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Also of not this week is an educational moment with Hulk wherein we were shopping and she espied some soft-toy Unicorns on display and implored one to purchase a unicorn for her:

"But dad I have to have the unicorn, it's so pink and soft and horny!!"

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Moving and Shaking

With Supervisor Grand Chief K being reliably informed at VALA conference drinks that One is a Mover and Shaker in libraryland, it is obvious that the recent lack of regular posting to The Tales can only be due to the amount of shakey moves One has been undertaking.


Moves of prep prep for Hulk - which lead to an in-shakey start to school.

Moves of returning to work - which had the usual level of shakiness.

Moves of birthday gaming - which lead to a shakey return to the old favourite On the Edge card game on Sneaky Pete's behest.

Moves of study and Gaming Garage combining - leading to some shakey computer monitor setup.

Moves of women's footy watching with The Great Sandro and Sneaky Pete - which was a shakey start to the season for the 'pies.

And finally moves of attending said conference to make a shakey impression on several of One's contacts in the industry.


Of course there is also the alternate theory that the conference drinks Supervisor Grand Chief K was attending when informed of One's reputation may well have just included an astonishing amount of drinks...
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What One did on One's Holidays

So One has spent most of the previous fortnight on holidays, during which time period many and sundry activities have been partaken.

Farming Out the Kids

At Sneaky Pete's suggestion Hulk and I joined him, Uncle Niece, and BuildItBoy on an expeditious rainy-day expedition to Collingwood Children's Farm.
One found it quite educational and was particularly surprised to learn that Feeding the Goats was not merely a euphemism - which is probably all well and good as it went on for nigh an hour.

Ex-Presidential Duties

A morning of phone calls and remote work on one's user group commitments.

Library Day Trips

One spent most of a day traipsing across the public transport system with Hulk to show of the genius level of one's progeny to one's work colleagues, who must all now be convinced that she is very advanced for her age.

A Magical Gaming Experience

To mark the occasion of having a day off due to footy one's demesne was host to the likes of Sneaky Pete, Pirate Dave, Gavman, and ElfBoy for many hours of card gaming fun.

Footy in Black and Yellow

Swinging the blokeyness pendulum the other way one had Sneaky Pete back the next day for some Grand Final viewing.

Baby's First Bee Sting

After a morning of intensive gardening - of the kind required to make a clear path from the front door to the street using only a small pair of scissors after Hulk has traded you for the big snippers - one's afternoon relaxation time was cut short by Hulk inadvertently squashing a bee against a watering can and suffering the resulting suicidal self defence that bees are known for.
Of course after the bee's fate was explained to her Hulk decided to go out to the scene and tell the bee "sorry I made you dead bee, goodbye"

Inescapable Work and further gaming delights

Nothing can describe the joy of having one's day for oneself interrupted by a minor work crisis.
Following up the relatively easily solved issue with an afternoon of gaming with Badger was definitely enough to balance the scales.

Unmissable Training Day at Work

Under orders from Supervisor Grand Chief K one had to curtail one's holiday plans to attend this day.
I begrudgingly took part in having my unfair share of the pizza and cake lunch - which was barely enough to fuel me through the afternoon "clean up your work area" activity.

Male Privilege Training

Which brings us to today and the final half day off work before attending an afternoon session of training on Male Privilege in which I was horrified to find that no-one had catered for my afternoon tea! Such hardship thus proving that one has no privilege in life.
I believe I will receive an A+ grade.

A Holiday from Holidays

And now one is back to the regular schedule and able to relax and recover from such an intensive holiday break.

One is almost looking forwards to the morrow's Performance Planning meeting.

Almost.
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Too Much

So, one was thinking about the whole "too much" realm of theory recently and the supposed impact such as other regular things dropping by the wayside.

Of course, one hasn't had much time to theorise lately as one's time has been taken up with too much going on.

In the month since ones last missive to the The Tales there has been:

• Too much of the post flu lurgy hanging around
• Too much of the intermittent network failures at work
• Too much of the weekend activities with Hulk - expeditions to far off locales for junior footy watching of the SpawnOfBestFriendSincePrep related kind being a prime example, but also sundry birthday parties (I mean, really, does every child have a birthday?)
• Too much footy to keep up with, including the aforementioned day-trip and an expedition with The Great Sandro
• Too much gaming - wait, no that one doesn't make any sense, regular Wednesday plus a couple of fortnightly Thursdays and a Sunday, and preparing a new game all in a month sounds about right.
• Too much new Twin Peaks to try and catch up on

In any case as I return to posting on The Tales I can say that one's "too much" activity schedule is having none of the dropping by the wayside impacts theorised to go along with it.

See you all next month.
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Freezing at the Footy

So The Great Sandro, Legion2, and I traipsed off to the footy on Sunday with a reasonable expectation that our sportsball team would beat the team at the bottom of the heap that is this year's season.

This came to pass.

Eventually.

After a quite cold period in the third fraction wherein the wild weather also came to pass and we three had some concern that we also were going to pass.

So icy was the blast that The Great Sandro even deigned to huddle under the Magpies fleecy blanket with Legion2 and I.

In the end we came through with the sort of superb stoicism that is worthy of the label Hero.
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