16 July 2008

cousins rock*

Oh. My. Lordy.

You know your whinings about cultural/financial states have reached a new kind of pathetic when your cousin who has just returned to Melbourne after a long expat stint and is living with one of her relics and her lifelong housemate who she left back in Queensland send you a care package. With really expensive wine and six ‘every day’ wine glasses (one for every day of the week minus one dry day), Ethiopian organic fair trade chocolate, fluffy polka-dotty bed socks, Full Terry socks – exactly who is this Full Terry? – latest editions of Grass Roots and other “vego-leso”** reading material and incense specially brewed to ward off depression!

The booty came in a big box, masquerading as a water-saving shower-head. Naturally I paused to consider last week’s flurry of internet trawling but couldn’t recall ordering any shower-heads. Come to think of it, I can’t recall ordering anything online since Operation Tightwad kicked in.

My reaction upon knifing open the box went from befuddlement to glee to guilt: "This is not a shower head. This is wine and chocolate! I am not worthy!"

You see, I, dubious cousin that I am, have not called J to support her through the return to Melbourne in winter and moving in with a relic phase. I, dubious cousin that I am, even got a twitchy lip when she called last week to chat to Mum and not me... it was amidst the swathes of bubble wrap that I realised she had called Mum to check our postal address.

[pause for emphasis]

I feel like someone who drank an awful lot, made a right ass of themselves, forgot what an ass they were because they drank so much, then got a really bad hangover and whined loudly about it til someone bought them a year’s supply of Berocca to shut them up.

I love the care pack. I am so not worthy. J and L: you can ride on this for a very long time.

--

It’s been cousin-central around here. We just spent a lovely weekend with my Long Lost Cousin, her boat-building beau, their cute little z and my uncle. There was food. There was wine. The Wombles theme song even made an appearance. Read about it on boat-building beau’s blog or b's blog... (exactly how did two people with a small child beat me to blog it?).

Well that’s it for a bit… I’m wambling off to Melbourne for a few days to imbibe by a fireside amongst fellow editors, stalk the Slow Guides publisher, drink wine with old friends, run amok at festivals and trawl op shops and bookshops.

*housemates, partners and babies of cousins rock too, it just didn't fit so well in the title.

**kudos to J and L, this is their genius catch-all for minority groups like vegetarians and lesbians.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Yay!!! We're so glad that you like the package. I love reading your rants whilst suffering through Life AD ('at desk', oh loordy how I wish it was 'after'), so it's a pleasure to encourage you on your quest. Hope you shared some of the bounty with the other MOTH's tho ;-)

L

Jodie said...

We're so glad that you liked the care pack. We would've loved to have organised a low flying plane to parachute it down to you but alas, the postie did the same trick. And anyway, there are a few cute posties, so it could have made the dubious box even more worthwhile. Hope the owner of the general store was at least within 15 years each way of your age group and worth a second look. (can you tell, it's actually me looking for someone, not you?)

I can imagine you sitting in front of the open fire this evening, sipping your fare and muchin' on your choc, whilst your booties are warm and your eyes cast upon a vego leso mag.

ECDSVL*

Take care cousin.
* (Every cousin deserves some vego leso)

the cook said...

Mnnummmnummmnummmmnumnnn. Ommmmm. Excuse while I gorge on chocolate and channel some zen via my anti-depressant incense.

There is nothing quite as awesome as unexpected giftage. Especially when giftage is of such high quality. 'Twas like receiving a secretly smuggled case of truffles during wartime rationing!

In an effort to repay the kindness, I'm now short-listing posties in the region for you J! (Though secretly I think you'll have better luck in your new 'hood.)