Disco Knitter

There were offers for the shop on Friday. They couldn’t tell us who, they couldn’t tell us how many, and they couldn’t tell us how much. But there were offers. The offers were to be looked at, discussed, and presented to Apple, who have the final say.

Years ago, I worked at another reseller who were forced to sell their flagship store. They got a good offer, and took it to Apple, who rejected it because the prospective buyer had no experience running an AppleCentre. A month later they accepted another offer from a competitor. The final amount was just 10% of the original offer.

Tomorrow I have to turn up for work, not knowing if I am transitioning to new ownership, or winding up for liquidation. Best not to think about it too much, but the last few weeks have taken a toll on my sunny disposition.

Yesterday was fun – but too short. I went to Rubi + Lana’s in the morning, then to Jussi’s farewell party (where I met some people I’ve been dying to meet for ages, they didn’t disappoint), and then to Mijal’s for our first Thanksgiving dinner. Mijal is a great cook, and I apologise if I was a little touchy on the subject of the Turkey.

Last year, we lost one of our chickens on a very hot day, and we resolved to either let the girls free range (so they can have dust baths, or to bring them inside in hot weather if we aren’t going to be home to make sure they are ok.

But the weather bureau didn’t predict the temperatures we got yesterday. And I am so wrapped up with what is happening to me right now that I didn’t even think to ask Mark to check on the girls when he got home yesterday evening. We went out for dinner with friends in Newtown last night, and complained about the heat.

This morning, I put on a load of washing, and noticed that one of our big white feathery girls wasn’t moving, and was covered in ants, but I couldn’t tell whether it was Grace or Janis. I lifted up the nest box, and there was another big white girl who wasn’t moving. Barbara and Liza are fine, but both my big white girls are gone.

Both of them were rescues. Grace from a petting zoo (I hope petting zoo operators are reincarnated as baby bunnies in a petting zoo – see how they like being poked by toddlers 8 hours a day), and Janis from a kind lady that saw her fall from a truck on its way to the slaughterhouse. She couldn’t stand up at first, and it was days before we saw her walk, or peck, or scratch around in the dirt like a real bird. She acted like she had never seen the sky before, and was our little (or not so little) special needs girl.

Having an animal in your life is a huge responsibility. I don’t have kids and I think of these little ones like children who are utterly dependent on my care and attention. They live and die by my actions alone, and I have failed these two.

They did have good lives with me – they were free to pursue their interests in digging, destroying my veggie garden, singing the “I Laid an Egg, It’s a Really Good Egg” song, and pooping frequently and in great quantity. I hope they were happy, and I hope my generally good parenting will be taken into consideration.

But I still feel rotten.

“Being an ice addict is like taking the Concorde to New Zealand. The trip is good, but you end up in a bad place.” Dave Hughes

Apologies to Justine – NZ is lovely. I’ve been there. Honest.

We just like to take the piss.

And no-one would believe that you could take the Concorde to Mt Druitt.

So they axed the ABC’s highest rating show. And Our Mighty Leader denies all responsibility. He didn’t axe the show, he just appointed an “independent auditor” who did it for him.

Like Mary-Helen, I don’t do memes. But I do love science, and I have a natural instinct to poke things to see if they will bite me. Funny I never liked Steve Irwin….

But this is interesting.

I went to the GP today to talk about vaccinations for Vietnam, and the fact that I have been experiencing gastric reflux for a few months now. He sent me for a blood test that required FOUR vials of blood. Four. I nearly passed out looking at the vials as the nurse kept grabbing more. I’m being tested for Hep resistance (I have a vague memory of having the shots for Hep A, but we need to be sure), he’s also testing my iron levels (I’m a vegetarian, I must be unhealthy), vitamin D (no idea what that is about), and some bug that causes evil stomach issues.

If they don’t find hep immunity I’ll need some shots, iron and vitamin D have unknown consequences, but if they don’t find the stomach bug then I might need to have an endoscopy. Not entirely sure what that entails, but it sounds unpleasant.

I applied for a part time job a few weeks ago – I just got an email to notify me that my application was unsuccessful. There were over 600 applications – and I’m sure some of them had actual qualifications that were related to the job, so I don’t feel too bad. I had help to write a kick ass resume, and I really feel that I gave it my best shot. I would have been great at the job, and it would have been a wonderful lifestyle change – but perhaps I need to go for the filthy lucre at this point, and the universe is TRYING TO TELL ME SOMETHING. Justine – the bottle of wine you gave me has come in handy.

My friends Patrick and Linda, and their kids Hugo and Lolita came for lunch today, and we had a very pleasant day. Hugo was great with the bunnies, and I think they liked him. THis is the first time that Monkey and Blueberry have met a young child, and they handled it very well – but I think that hugo is an exceptional child.

Dad paid for our tickets today. We are going. It’s written in stone, and paid for with blood sweat and tears. Not Marks, not mine, but my poor self funded retiree parents. I hope they know what this means to us – it’s no ordinary gift, it’s the gift of a lifetime, and we know exactly how lucky we are.

It’s been a very long time since I have been a traveller, and I hope that Mark and I travel well together. He’s pretty easy going (and easily led), so hopefully we’ll both be able to take small hurdles in our stride.

Tomorrow I am having my first lesson in Vietnamese – Alf is taking me to lunch. If this is going to be my last week at TRS, I am determined to get out of the office for lunch every day. Emma came today, and left with a very garish new toy – very similar in many ways to Kris‘ new toy. I’m very proud of both of them, yet have no desire to follow in their footsteps.

Apparently lots of people want to buy “my” company. They have until Friday to submit an “expression of interest”, and on Friday afternoon the suits will decide if we have to turn up for work on monday or not. I have to admit to a sudden urge to book a pedicure for 9am Monday morning, but I do recognise that it would be petty. They own me, I might as well be good humoured about it.

Oh, and by the way – we were making money. We have a loyal, blue chip customer base, and the best view of any AppleCentre in Australia. We have a world class service centre, and possible the most smart mouthed sales person this side of the equator. If you’re looking for a business to invest in, drop me a line….

The picture is of the century plant we bought in Bellingen, on the way home from Heather and Hamish’s wedding. I planted it in a terracotta tub on the front doorstep, and this is how it looked after I watered it a couple of days ago.

Tomorrow I have to get out of bed for the last (guaranteed) week of work. I don’t anticipate that it will be a fun week – we’ll have to wind up the last sales, contact all our fave customers, say goodbye, and generally wind things up. I’ll have to take my pot plant, my knitting magazines, and my teabags.

So I’ve had lots of support, and offers, and everything is going to be fine. Wonderful. Brilliant.

But in the meantime, I’ve another week to get through. Unless they keep us open for another week. Or another two. Or until Christmas…. I can’t stand the waiting.

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