Saturday Morning in Newman …

After having a week of feeling like I had lost my blogging mojo … a morning of boredem in Newman seems to have brought it back.  Mr W., being the hard working soul that he is, has just finished his 3rd night of night shift this morning.   For those of you with partners that work nights, you’ll know just how frustrating it can be when you have to live in the same house … and be quiet.  It’s great when I’m working, I get up and get ready for work, Mr W. comes home, jumps into bed and falls asleep.  But what happens when it’s my day off?  Well, I thought I’d share with you what night shift means for me when the morning after falls on a Saturday …

It means I have to be organised.  If I want to shower once Mr W. has gone to bed, I need to have all my stuff transferred to the other bathroom.  I know Mr W. says that once he’s asleep he can’t hear anything, but I would feel just awful if I woke him (remember the smoke alarm incident).  And so, night shift almost renders me homeless for a few hours as I search for things to do in this sleepy town …

6.15am alarm goes off, I remember that Mr W. will be home in about 20 minutes.  I get up, quickly gather bathroom paraphernalia, clothes, shoes and dump it on the kitchen table.  Jump back into bed.

6.40am Mr W. arrives home, I pretend to be asleep … have a conversation I can’t remember …

9.13am awoken by text message from my mum (oops, I must have fallen back to sleep) … Mr W. stirs a little, but I manage to sneak out of the bedroom without waking him.

9.45am after a shower in the spare bathroom, I take the dogs for a walk through the bush.

10.30am race home, put the dogs back in the yard, grab handbag and race to the gym for Pump … oops got the times mixed up, it started at 9.50, not 10.50 … ho hum.

10.40am head to hotel to buy a take away coffee … $5 (yes yes, your eyes aren’t deceiving you).

10.45am head to the shopping mecca of Newman to waste some time … surely there is something to look at?  Go to Woolworths, buy three magazines I don’t need and 4 mandarins that seem fresh and tasty.  One magazine had a free ModelCo Lip Balm … bargain.  Cost … $24.

10.55am walk back to car … which I have purposely parked on the other side of the car park so that it takes longer.  Call mum and talk to her in the car park.

11.10am do a lap around town, see who’s about.  no one to see.  return to shopping centre.

11.15am go to Tyre Shop to pick up spare tyre which has been repaired after my flat tyre yesterday.

11.25am go to newsagents to see what junk I can purchase … result = 3 scratchies, a birthday card, The West Australian Newspaper, Fridge Magnet, Blank Card … total $25.

11.35am do another lap around town … still no one about, no one to see, nothing to do.

11.50am decide to drive to Tropic of Capricorn.  This may seem strange, but try not going above 60km per hour for a month and see how you feel.  The lure of a 110km speed limit (if only for 15 km) is just too tempting.  Put on 80’s radio station, listen to Cher “If I Could Turn Back Time”.  Drive to Tropic of Capricorn sign, take photos, get back in the car, drive home.

12.10pm (yes I made it past lunch time) … arrive back in town, seeing as it’s after 12pm I head to the bottlo (you can’t buy wine here before 12pm remember).  Choose 3 bottles of white and a cask of red (yes I know, but it reminds me of my fabulous holiday lol).  Get told by the lady behind the counter that one cannot purchase cask wine on a Saturday, only a Mon or Tues.  Feel incredibly embarrassed.  Put cask back on the shelf and choose a bottle of red.  Gee it’s hard when you’re forced to be classy.  Pay for my wine and head back to the car.  Total $70.

12.20pm Consider sitting in the park and drinking my wine.  Decide to get Subway instead.

12.45pm Waited in line at Subway for about 15 mins but was actually happy with this, as it pushed my time out of the house out even further.  Total $9 (come on, I had to buy a couple of cookies too!).

1pm Returned home with above purchases.  Turned out to be an expensive morning.  Have snuck into the office and locked myself in so I can blog quietly.

So as you can see, I just love night shift.  It really makes my weekend.  Now where’s that wine???

pp xx

Who Said Romance Was Dead?

Imagine getting home from work mid week to discover that your partner is intoxicated.  And not just a bit tipsy either.  Well, I’m slowly learning that this is just a normal occurrence when you live with a shift worker.  You see, up here in the red dirt, weekends and public holidays really don’t mean anything.  Half the time no one knows what day it is due to the roster they work.  And so, Mr W.’s “weekend” often occurs mid week … totally opposite to my mon to fri grind.

Well, I came home from work last Tuesday (which was Mr W.’s Sunday) to discover Mr W. having a few quiet ones, or so I thought.  It wasn’t until everyone had left that I actually discovered just how pissed he really was.  Noticing that he was stumbling around like an emu on ice skates, I asked him if he was ok.  He replied … nope … and then he proceeded to cook me dinner (something he would never do while he was sober).  God bless my gorgeous Mr W., he had lovingly marinated some chicken breasts in Nandos sauce all day.  And so he got out the George Foreman and proceeded to char grill the chicken.  He was so obssessed with getting that criss cross pattern on the chook but he’s just lucky he didn’t end up with a nice little criss cross pattern on the side of his face.

Well, the fun didn’t stop there.  After watching me put the garlic bread in the oven, he asked me to cook him some garlic bread … no less than three times!  Now I must admit, despite the fact that his brain had clearly left the building, he did cook some very amazing chicken.  It’s a shame our dinner conversation wasn’t as juicy.

Now, it was about 7pm by this stage and Mr W. was well, shall we say, a little worse for ware so I told him that he needed to have a shower.  And it’s at this point that I secretly started wishing that we had a video camera permanently set up in our bedroom (no Mr W. we can’t do this, it’s just a blog honey).

Have you ever had to undress someone who’s quite inebriated?  It’s not easy at the best of times … especially when you know you’re not gonna get lucky.  Well, I managed to get his shirt off.  It was his socks that nearly landed him in the local hospital.  You see, we have one of those gorgeous wooden beds with a flat edge that you can sit on.  And so Mr W. managed to perch himself on here (after several attempts) and stuck his foot out … his way of “helping” to get his socks off.  Not realising that he was wearing 2 pairs, I pulled them … and a drunk Mr W. has gone from sitting on the edge of the bed to sitting on the floor quicker than he can stick a lemon wedge in a corona.

His head has then made contact with the chest of draw … oops.  I thought I’d killed him … but no such luck.  Before I knew it he was laughing uncontrollably … obviously no brain, no pain.  He’s just lucky he missed the edge the bed … or red dirt would be the least of my problems.  And so, after 10 minutes of watching him laugh until he cried, I managed to stand him up.  It took me another 10 minutes to get his pants off … longest that’s ever taken 😉

I decided that for his own health and safety (they’re big on that in these mining towns) that a shower was a bad idea and so just put him to bed.  Now you can imagine that I was really not impressed at this point.  I was expecting a romantic evening with my man …

Obviously Mr W. has no recollection of his near death experience, or the opinions he expressed about his mother in law whilst in this state … but he is starting to learn that the Pilbara Princess has a memory like an elephant and she never forgets.  I had great pleasure in reminding Mr W. of the events of the night before when he woke up at 1am with a thumping headache.  It’s funny that with such a great memory, I sometimes forgot where the panadol is in middle of the night.

Oh, and Mr W. … thank you for taking me out for a surprise lunch yesterday.  That was really lovely sweetie.  You’re half way there.

Love pp xx