So, new house, nice enough place. Morning 2 or 3 after Geoff has left for work I get up and continue unpacking and finally decide to go check out where the outside bins are kept. So I step out the door in my slippers and a thin jumper and it gives this self satisfied little click as it closes behind me. My keys are inside.

So after the typical wailing and getting angry. I get through the garage to the back of the house to work out some strategy. I have no money, no phone, no keys. I am wearing open back slippers that I wouldn’t chose to be seen in public with, it’s pretty darn cold and my jumper is thin. Music plays merrily at me through the closed windows. I scan the outside of the house for possible means of getting inside – there are few. None that aren’t destructive. I have to be inside to let the phone guy in at 11am and Ron in sometime earlier to get the keys to pick up the trailer.

I decided to wait for Geoff’s dad. 30 minutes later I am rather cold and decide to follow through with the plan so I take the hammer and some cardboard and break the laundry window. It shatters rather more than I intended. Just as I get in, Ron knocks on the door.

The window I chose was a good one. Ron was wonderful and got some glass and fixed it for me which saved a bucket load of money. The Optus man was able to walk in the front door. My mum and sister came and helped unpack and took me out to lunch.

My keys have been living in my pocket. I’m thinking of having them welded to my person, along with a proper understanding of my tenses which are all over the place tonight.

Life Out of Home