Freezing Awkward Silence

It had been four months since the wizard moved into the swamp monster’s home and it was beginning to get fed up. It was already a point of contention between the monster’s in-laws that it had chosen to live in a run-down abandoned house near the city rather than an overgrown swamp. Its partner had even begged it to at least move to a sewage tunnel underground, but it had known that the moisture would only make its growing problems worse.

Most swamp monsters only grew new plants every few months. For Tortoise, it was a matter of seconds. Whenever its emotions heightened, it was sprouting seedlings left and right. Being close to the city also meant it could slink through the shadows and people watch, which was one of its favourite activities. It had compromised with its partner by making sure it picked the most rundown, non-functioning house the city could offer. 

The wizard seemed intent on breaking that compromise.

Just last week Gerald, the culprit in question, had let a technician fix the gas heating. Canberra luckily did not harbour nosey residents and the wizard assured it that the professional had bought his lies that the abandoned house was in fact a newly bought renovation project that he definitely wasn’t squatting in. 

Now the wizard sat on the run-down couch, sipping tea from his mug and fixing his broken staff with an accusatory stare. Tortoise hadn’t asked him how it had broken yet and it didn’t intend to. In fact, it had stopped small talk in a desperate but ineffective attempt to send the message home that the wizard needed to find a new place to live. 

Tortoise strode into the room, sprouts flying from its back. “That’s it – the gas heating was the last straw!” it yelled, coming to stand right in front of him. “Next thing I know, you’ll want to book air conditioning repairs.” Canberra was a big city with plenty of abandoned buildings ripe for the taking. It was time to stop feeling bad and put its foot down on this. It wasn’t like Gerald would be homeless.

Gerald didn’t seem to mind its tone. He simply smiled and snapped his fingers. “That’s actually a great idea, it won’t be winter forever—”

“Fix your own air conditioner and leave mine alone!” It cut him off. “Or fix your staff and get on your way.”

Tortoise could immediately tell that hit a sore spot by the way Gerald’s face fell. Awkward silence filled the room. Gerald refused to look up from staring at his empty mug. Feeling guilt settling in, Tortoise sighed. “More tea?”

The wizard gladly took its olive branch and, with a grunt, the creature moved into the kitchen. It would have to tell its partner that Gerald would be with them one more week.

Glass Realm Return

As our famous dragon friend Pyro was enjoying a well-deserved break, he was urgently called back to the Glass Realm. The realm, known for its serene beauty and transparent charm, was under attack. A series of bizarre glass smashings had sent a wave of worry through the Melbourne inhabitants. Witnesses reported seeing an eccentric, spinning, orange creature leaving a trail of fruit splatters and broken boxes in its whirlwind wake

In a realm where tranquillity is usually only disturbed by the soft chime of striking glass structures, such events were alarming. The damages were extensive, and the glass balustrades, the pride of Melbourne’s Glass Realm, had suffered the most. As a first responder, Pyro had to quickly learn about the importance of urgent glass replacement. Each shattered balustrade wasn’t just a structure broken – it was a piece of the realm’s identity lost.

Despite his fiery breath, Pyro handled each piece of shattered glass with the utmost care. The beautiful glass balustrades were unique, and the dragon soon realised that repairing them wouldn’t be as simple as rekindling a fire. However, he was eager to restore the peace and tranquillity that the realm was famous for.

His first order of business was to meet with the expert artisans responsible for the installation of glass balustrades near Melbourne. Pyro had to learn from the best if he wanted to navigate the delicate task of glass repair and replacement. He watched in awe as the craftsmen made the daunting task seem effortless, filling the air with an intricate dance of shattered light and shimmering dust.

The journey to restore the Glass Realm had just begun, and Pyro was determined to find the spinning, orange culprit causing this mayhem. It was a race against time, and Pyro knew the longer it took, the more glass structures would be at risk. With a newfound respect for the craft, Pyro flew off towards the next glass crime scene, leaving the craftsmen to their delicate work.

Stay tuned to Pyro’s adventures as he navigates the mystery of the glass smashings, appreciates the intricacies of glass repair, and works towards restoring the harmony of Melbourne’s Glass Realm. Will our beloved dragon succeed, or will the spinning, orange menace prove too difficult to catch?

Glass Cleanup Efforts

As the battle dust settled, a harmonious hum filled the air. It was a sound that Pyro had grown accustomed to during his time in the realm, a symphony of work and precision. It was the sound of the glass tinting and repair experts of Melbourne, springing into action. These weren’t ordinary folks; they were artists, each chisel stroke a testament to their craft.

They moved with impressive efficiency, their tools gliding over the broken glass as they began restoring the citadel’s former glory. Pyro watched in awe as cracks vanished, replaced with shimmering, seamless surfaces. One expert caught his attention – a burly Gnork with a gentle touch, applying what appeared to be office glass tinting with absolute precision. The technique lent a beautiful hue to the glass, providing additional resilience without compromising its transparency.

As Pyro continued to observe, he couldn’t help but engage in conversations with these masters. They generously shared their knowledge, offering Pyro a wealth of information about their trade. They spoke of various glass types, their uses, and their unique properties. They elaborated on the importance of regular maintenance, particularly for structures such as the glass balustrades that Pyro had grown fond of.

A sprightly Gnork named Gnipper demonstrated the proper techniques for cleaning glass. He explained how the right treatment could enhance the lifespan of glass structures, reducing the need for frequent repairs. Pyro listened attentively, soaking up every word, every tip. He even learned that Gnipper provided office window tinting for Melbourne businesses, a service that kept the realm’s architecture looking as vibrant as ever.

As Pyro watched the restoration of the citadel, he couldn’t help but admire the realm’s resilience. Yes, they had their fair share of challenges – from a dragon accidentally causing a little damage to a full-blown battle with a villain – but their spirit remained unbroken. The residents of this glass realm, from its glass repair experts to its everyday inhabitants, were just as tough as the materials they so masterfully shaped.

As Pyro left the realm of Melbourne, he carried with him more than just the memory of an adventure. He had gained a newfound respect for glass, its strength, beauty, and the skilled experts who ensured it stayed that way.

 

The Rosémon Master!

After years of tending her garden and honing her skills, Ivy had done it: she’d successfully grown every variety of Rosémon. Every climbing rose, every Floribunda, hybrid tea rose, and David Austin rose had been nurtured in her backyard, meticulously cared for with the knowledge she had accumulated over the years.

Among the many varieties, Ivy particularly loved the ground cover roses. Their profusion of flowers and low-maintenance nature made them a joy to work with. She remembered the day she’d come across the ground cover roses for sale on her favourite online gardening store. The beautiful image of the roses spreading over a garden, creating a carpet of vibrant colour, had captivated her. She had ordered the seeds that very day.

Her garden was now a living Rosédex, a testament to her dedication and hard work. Every Rosémon she’d grown had taught her something new, a new aspect of gardening she hadn’t considered before. Through the challenges, Ivy had not only become a better Rosémon trainer, but she’d also become a better gardener.

Looking back at her journey, Ivy acknowledged her inability to win a Rosémon championship. It was a reality that had stung initially, but over time, Ivy realised that winning wasn’t everything. The true value of her journey lay in the lessons learned, the resilience built, and the incredible bond she’d formed with her Rosémon. She found comfort and pride in nurturing her Rosémon and seeing them thrive.

Despite their simplicity, Ivy most loved the standard roses. Majestic and graceful, they were the queens of her garden. Ivy vividly remembered finding standard roses online on her trusted gardening website. The roses had looked so exquisite in the pictures, she could almost smell their fragrant aroma. She’d clicked ‘buy’ in an instant.

Despite the highs and lows, Ivy wouldn’t change a thing about her Rosémon journey. She had not only grown a garden of stunning roses, but she had also grown herself. Through the thorns and the blooms, Ivy had indeed become a Rosémon Master.

Office Tinting Bribery

I feel bad saying this after my work just spent so much time and money on getting renovations to convince us all to come back into the office, but I am absolutely never going back into the office again. See, things changed last year due to some very unfortunate circumstances, but they changed for the better. Not many people necessarily agree with me, but for the small few of us who have loved these changes, life has improved tremendously. 

That’s the issue though, you see. Now that I’ve experienced just how good it is to work from home, I never want to go back into the office. I don’t care that my bosses just renovated the place and that they got professional office tinting. Close to Melbourne, office spaces and bosses always try to outdo one another. It’s like they think if they have the best office space they can pretend they don’t have a (word redacted) culture. They think employees will be dazzled by fancy views, big kitchens and hot desking. In a lot of cases, they’re right and they even managed to fool me for a while. But I won’t be fooled anymore. Now that I know what it’s like to work in my tracksuit pants and wake up ten minutes before my first meeting, I can never be won over by afternoon beers or anything ever again.

I had to go into the office last week for an in-person meeting with my bosses, and I’ll admit that the new commercial glass tinting did look good. It’s definitely the type of thing that would have impressed me twelve months ago. But new year, new me and fancy new commercial office tinting isn’t what gets me out of bed anymore. 

Anyway, I’ve been writing this blog post whilst my coffee boils. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes and half of the people will be tuning in from the office and half are at home. The people in the office are absolute suckers.

Dodgy Car

 

My son is ridiculously careless. He’s the youngest of four children, and he seems to think he’s invincible and gets a kick out of pushing the boundaries. I’ve done a lot of reading on the psychology of children and how their position in the family impacts their personality. It seems like my son has taken all the stereotypes of the youngest child and maximised them to impossible standards. 

For example, he just bought the biggest piece of junk of a car that I’ve ever seen. He said he likes the fact that it could blow up at any moment. When I asked him to at least get the car checked out by an expert car mechanic near the Brighton area, he laughed at me and said that would defeat the purpose of buying that car to begin with. I have a headache just thinking about it. This child will truly be the death of me.

Because I know that he absolutely won’t get his car serviced, I think I might have to steal his car and do it myself. He often goes out on a Friday night and doesn’t come back until Sunday evening, so as long as I can find a mechanic that works on the weekend, I should be fine. The only issue will be if my son realises that the car is running smoother than he’s used to. He’s a smart boy, despite always making stupid decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes aware of the change in the quality of his vehicle pretty quickly. 

One thing I know my son’s car really needs is a tyre repair. Brighton roads can be really tough on cars and it makes sense that they experience some wear and tear. Except whoever owned this car before my son, drove in locations a lot harsher on the tyres than Brighton. God, I wish my son wasn’t so dumb and actually chose the safe option for once.

The Rose Championship!

With a few seasons of Rosémon training behind her, Ivy felt ready to step into a bigger arena: the local rose-growing competition. Having recently purchased a pack of David Austin roses seeds, the challenge was set, and Ivy was more than ready to dive in.

The days turned into weeks, the excitement buzzing through the community as the competition neared. Ivy nurtured her David Austin roses, applying everything she’d learned on her Rosémon journey. She followed the RoseDex’s advice meticulously, caring for the roses with precision watering, the right amount of sunlight, and a rich nutrient diet.

Across town, Ivy’s rival, a seasoned Rosémon trainer, was prepping miniature roses for the competition. Their smaller size didn’t diminish their appeal, but rather, magnified their delicate beauty. A friendly competition started to brew between the two, their gardens becoming an arena for an unspoken Rosémon battle.

As the day of the championship arrived, Ivy’s David Austin roses stood tall and majestic, their rich fragrance filling her garden. She had grown them with immense care, and their beauty was a testament to her effort and dedication. Meanwhile, her rival’s miniature roses sat charmingly in their garden, a perfect display of grace and elegance.

The championship was a vibrant display of Melbourne’s best Rosémon. Roses of all shapes, sizes and colours were on display, each unique and breathtaking in its own way. Ivy’s David Austin roses commanded attention with their grandeur, but the delicate allure of the miniature roses was equally captivating.

In the end, Ivy’s rival won the championship with her meticulously groomed miniature roses. The loss was a bitter pill to swallow for Ivy, but she took it well. After all, being a Rosémon trainer was about more than winning. It was about the journey, the growth, and the bond formed with her Rosémon. And as she looked at her stunning David Austin roses, she knew she had won in her own way. Ivy was already excited about the next Rosémon season, ready to grow, learn, and nurture, one rose at a time.

Celebrity Bathroom

Recently images were leaked showcasing the inside of my favourite celebrity’s home. Her home is stunning and got 50 million likes on the most popular social media site in the world. I’m obsessed with her kitchen, bathrooms and laundry in particular. I had no idea that anything could be as extravagant as the inside of her home. I knew her house (or should I say mansion) would be absolutely incredible, but this is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

I have decided that I am going to replicate the inside of her home to the best of my ability. Yesterday I sat down with one of the most talented bathroom designers in Melbourne, who luckily also renovates kitchens and bathrooms. The bathroom designer was very upfront with me about the cost of the project, which would be close to nearly half a million dollars. I told her that I’d take out a loan for the project, as long as she could guarantee that she could replicate what she saw in the photographs. She guaranteed that she could.

Now, I know you may be reading this and assuming that I’m crazy. I’m not crazy, I just know what I want. I want the life of luxury that comes with being famous. I want to spend time in my kitchen (with a chef cooking my meals) and feel a wave of pride over my surroundings. Frankly, I want to begin my kitchen renovations. Melbourne is a great place to live in, even though it’s not Los Angeles or New York. My favourite celebrity has homes in both cities, of course, but I’ve only seen inside her New York home. I would love to see the features of her Los Angeles home so that I can replicate that too. Seeing as I’m already redoing my bathroom and kitchen, I would replicate the living areas of her LA home. I’m going to contact the paparazzi that leaked the photos and ask if they can do the same in LA.

Pedal to the Meddle

My son, Hamlet, is becoming so paranoid. I swear, I make the slightest assertion about anything and the boy thinks I’m trying to control him. It’s all escalated since I commenced a long-term stay at his house right after I told him I was moving back to England, and it’s fair to consider that there might be a period of adjustment needed. I did sort of spring it on him, I suppose.

 

Still, I’ve sprung plenty of things on him before – the gift of life, anyone? – and he’s never gotten all funny about it like he is now. I’ve been trying to do nice things for him, like keep that lovely car of his away from the beach. Doesn’t he know what all that sand and sun can do to a leather interior?

 

I even went to the trouble of tracking down the best European car mechanic in the area, which Hamlet evidently hadn’t been bothered to do himself, but he was having none of it. He said he thought I was deliberately interfering with his daily beach sojourn, all because I myself dislike the beach.

 

Well, that may be all too true, but why should I disapprove of his liking for it? If my only son wants to waste his life engaging in such an inane pastime as going to run around on a pile of sand and swim in shark-infested waters like a lunatic, who am I to stand in the way? I mean, I certainly don’t feel it’s what he should be doing with his life, and I’d much prefer he used that snazzy little car to do other things. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to spend all day trying to book a car service near Seaford in order to keep him away from his beloved beach.

 

Plenty of mothers would do that, mind you, and I wouldn’t blame them one bit. But me? I’d never stoop to that level, or try to bribe my son with the promise of an all-expenses-paid air con regas. It’s simply not my style. I’m just here to offer a bit of motherly direction and support.

Chip In

It’s that time of year again. This is, it’s time to start planning the annual 21-hour drive to visit my family for Christmas. It seems it’s my lot in life to take on this gruelling task year after year, without fail.

Why should it always be me who has to do it? To be fair, all four of my siblings live up in Queensland near my parents, and it was technically my decision to set up shop in Victoria. Still, I’ve done this seven years running now, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask for them to come down here just this once.

One year in eight: that’s all I’m asking. But they won’t do it, and then I won’t see them, and then I’ll feel bad for not going up. It’s a catch 22. I just wish they’d chip in somehow – like, maybe they could split the cost of the fuel with me. Or they could pay for the suspension repair I’m going to have to pay for in a couple of weeks, ahead of the long drive.

You know, given that I have to give up two days of work for each leg of the journey, as well as for the duration of my stay, I think it’s only fair that my family pays a significant portion of my car’s running costs. This is just occurring to me now, as I’m writing it. Maybe this is my ticket to finally getting the air con fixed. I know there’s got to be at least one auto electrician in Underwood, where my parents live… maybe I can feign that the unit conked out on my way up. The truth is that it’s been out of order for months, but it’d be a white lie.

I mean, car air con repairs aren’t exactly the cheapest thing in the world, which is why I’ve been putting it off. And given that I’m going to be driving to Queensland in December with no air conditioning, I think it’s the least my family could do.