Definitely the right word. WOW.
It has been crazy-mania for a while now. Two Saturdays ago, one of my best friends flew on over from the States, to make it for her sisters wedding.
The same day that she flew over, we went out for her sisters hens night. Being the first girls night I've been to since getting married, the phrase "getting wasted" was a complete understatement to me. My friends found me particularly amusing and entertaining that night. As did Hubbie when I stumbled into the house, clickety-clackety, moaning that I was drunk.
The following day found me not only re-cuperating from the previous nights bender, but catching up wth my sister and brother-in-law, at lo and behold, a bar.
As if I didn't have enough the night before. With the family I had, I had no choice BUT to drink, unless I wanted to be ridiculed for the rest of eternity.
It was a really nice day though, and I didn't drink too much. It was a lovely family catch up.
The next day, Monday night, my U.S pal came by for a visit, and after catching up for a few hours she fell asleep on our couch. While we waited for her sister to pick her up, Hubbie and I took terms babysitting her sleeping self on the couch while the other got ready for bed! By the time she was picked up, I ended up going to bed about 1am.
That was 3 nights of sleep screwed up already. And it was only the beginning of the working week, meaning I wouldn't have much time to catch up on sleep until the weekend. And even that didn't look promising, as the following weekend was going to be busy, busy, busy!!!!
The following nights I can't really remember to be honest. But I know that when you have odd and insufficient sleep patterns for a few nights, you actually need to sleep IN to fix your body clock up. And getting up for work wasn't fixing me up much.
Plus I was busy trying to organise my Hubbie's birthday lunch for that coming Sunday. I had all these plans, to make some food earlier, make a cake and make coo kies, do the grocery shopping, plan my dishes, clean the house, etc, etc....
Thursday after work I had big plans, to do ALL my grocery shopping, make the cookie dough (so it was ready to be baked fresh Sunday morning) as well as get ready for work and other regular weeknight jobs.
Then the bird and the fridge happened. This is a freakin' book in itself.
Let me begin.
I'd come home earlier that day from work, and as Hubbie wanted me to wait for him to eat dinner (I think just leftovers) I had no choice but to wait. My first point of frustration was not being able to make sandwiches for work the next day, as we were out of bread. So I found myself wasting time, which I did not want on a night when I wanted to get a lot done.
Also that day, we'd received a fridge that we had previously ordered, an extra fridge that we wanted to keep in the garage for those family functions where there was just not often room in ONE fridge for all the food, drinks and dessert we had; in other words, this was a grog fridge.
So this fridge was now in our garage having been delivered earlier in the day with my Dad there to accept it.
Hubbie came home and one of the first things out of his mouth was
"there's a baby bird in our front yard and it can't fly!"
Upon further inspection, I saw that this wasn't a baby bird that you keep as a pet, rather it was one of the wild neighbourhood birds (like a sparrow) and it was quite literally in our front yard, so small, trying to fly but not even managing 20 cm into the air, as its wings were not strong enough.
Now I'm not normally a person that gravitates towards birds. I think everyone has one pet animal they prefer and mine is cats. I've never been a huge bird person, but because of Hubbie's love of birds and other random animals, I've grown fond of certain types of them.
Now this was, as I say, only a wild neighbourhood bird, but if you saw how tiny and vulnerable it looked, and the way its wings fluttered helplessly as it tried to take off, your heart would've cried too.
Hubbie and I KNEW what we had to do. We had to somehow save this bird. Another larger bird, possibly a member of its family, flew in a few times when it thought we weren't there, and either gave something to the little one or just checked on it. But then it never came back. And despite my wishful thinking, a flock of birds did not come and lift this baby bird off into the sunset.
It was going to get dark soon, and remembering the wild, vicious cat fight we'd heard outside our yard only nights before, knowing full well that there were plenty of cats in this area, this bird would not last 'til midnight. NO WAY.
So, hungry, with a new fridge in the garage that had to be adjusted because Hubbie's car didn't fit anymore, a baby bird in our front yard that couldn't fly and that would be eaten if we didn't save it, we decided to attempt the task of rescuing - ahem, catching - the bird.
Meanwhile time was ticking, and I still needed to get the grocery shopping done and make my cookie batch.
With an empty cardboard beer box, I stood in one corner, while Hubbie, with his gardening gloves, attempted to come at it from another side, in order to corner it.
The baby, tiny as it was, was also smart, and managed to make its way to a corner where it was almost impossible to reach. I kept saying "just grab it! It's a baby it won't bite you! Stop being so soft!" He attempted again a few times, and finally, managed to lift it and place it in the box. I quickly shut the lid.
As we took it around to the back of the house, (we were going to put it in the shed) I wasn't holding the lid down properly, and this little bird's head started popping out, as it tried to get out of the box.
Now it was me freaking out. I wanted to put it back in, but I didn't know how to do it without damaging its head.
I was totally freaking out and almost shrieking, and it ended up jumping out. Hubbie had to get it again and put it back in. "And you say I'm soft?!"
Yes he was right, I soooo ate my words. I guess its fear of the unknown, fear of this wild bird. No matter how small this thing is, logic flies out the window (ha ha) and you're left petrified of this little object that you could easily miss if you walked by it.
Well, we ended up setting up this poor little bird in our shed: we opened the top lid and slid over it an old bbq rack left behind from the previous tenants, that way the bird could see through and have heaps of breathing space.
Then came the fridge argument. Hubbie realised that the current position of the fridge prevented him from parking his car in the garage, as he could quite literally NOT get out of his car. If the fridge was moved up or down the side of the garage either way, it still meant there was minimal space in squeezing by. And he was not risking, in any way, a scratch on his car.
Sigh.
And then he suggested, putting our spare fridge, under the stairs. As in, in the house, under the stairs, only around the corner from the kitchen and in clear view of our other fridge there!
I was NOT a bogan! I was not going to have one fridge in clear view of the other, shoved into a house space like under the stairs, where you could still clearly see EVERYTHING!
The more we argued the more absolutely furious I got. There was NO WAY, he was keeping the fridge in the garage, with the possibility of scratching his car (he is very precious about his car you see, as it is a classic and on the not-so-cheap side) and there was NO WAY we were moving it under the stairs, where it was in clear view, as I was not going to cheapen the look of our interior. The thought absolutely disgusted me and made my lips curl.
We were stuck in a gridlock over the bloody fridge.
Then we thought of another option. Why don't we move the fridge to the other side of the garage, set up an extension lead, and that way it wouldn't be interfering with Hubbie's passageway to the car?
We realised that would also block one of our exits out - not a crucial exit point, but it was the way we brought our rubbish bins from the back of the house to the front. The fridge being in front of this exit now prevented us from moving our bins through the garage. For the moment we decided to keep the bins IN the garage, therefore removing any use for that door, which was good as we now had a fridge in front of it.
After eating, I frustratingly rushed to the shops. It wasn't helped when Hubbie called as I was getting out of my car and insisted that it was better for the fridge to be under the stairs. I nearly blew my top, the mere thought of that stupid idea turned me bright red. There was no way that was happening, and I let him know that as we hung up.
The rest of the night was just plain stupid. After getting just my BASIC grocery items, I left the shops to see a message on my mobile. I listened to the message as I drove home, and I grimaced as I got to the end of the message. Hubbie. Pretty much saying "get an extension cord...... 5 metres long........ don't leave the shops...... get the cord."
Sigh.
Back I went. And when I couldn't find the right length cord there, I had to go to ANOTHER store.
By the time I got home, I still had to wash the dishes, make lunches for the next day, clean up, and I didn't even get time to make my cookies.
He had moved the fridge in that time, but the old bird cage we wanted to get that resided at Hubbie's parents place, we couldn't get because they weren't home to drop it off to us.
At the end of the day we had a fridge wedged between an extremely frustrated couple.
And we had a bird in a cardboard beer box in a shed, perhaps more lost than when it started out.
To be continued.....
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