I'm coming home!

Hi everyone

I'm coming home for a visit while we wait for my UK Work Permit to get approved. I land bright and early on Sunday 3 June.

I have no idea how long I'll be home for, but am guessing about 3 weeks. It all depends on how long it takes to get approved. I'm staying with Robert in Stanmore for the first week and will do the rounds (including the shire) so I get to visit you all.

No other plans at this stage, but I do have to work from the EY Sydney office while I'm here so hope to see lots of you on the weekends and week nights!

Can't wait for family day festivities.

See you soon, love Kel xxxxxxxx

Gripe

Arrgguuuhuh! As Charley Brown would have said. I’m trying to trick this blog into publishing photos in the sequence I would like as apposed to how it likes. I wont go on except to explain that these photos should appear after, and are refered to in, “The Fighter”. Cope as best you can. I do

Concerns

Of course I worry about global warming just like anyone else and I’m glad to see someone finally questioning the claims of rock bands and pubs to be carbon neutral simply because they’ve paid someone to plant (not grow) some trees for them. If it were this simple, I mean even primary school children and politicians can do that, on TV too, there would be no problem. I,d given serious thought to going into partnership with the bloke downstairs who’s taken interest and pulled up all the weeds in the back yard. I don’t know how much you get for a tree but I’m sure I’d quickly pay off a spade and I’ve an endless supply of red berry seeds off the red berry whats’it tree out the front. With my marketing skills I’d be paying the rent in no time and if they don’t grow all the better I could plant again
Certainly I’m also concerned about the oncoming federal election though Labour, my engine of choice, seems to be on the rails. I bet the Govt. will be careful not to attack anything to do with Rudd’s wife again. The opportunity for all the major newspapers to once more feature this vivacious, comfortable looking, self made millionaire cherub on the front page for three quarters of the electorate to admire and approve of-yes I did a private poll, all the women and more than half the men-should be avoided at all costs. A picture is worth a thousand words as they say and this one is probably worth that to the power of ten.
I’m concerned by the latest allegations regarding Abe Saffron and the Luna Park Ghost Train fire and the possibility of “The O’Keefe Blog” could be drawn into this sordid scandal by reason of Hugh’s having taught his son-there that should do it.
I’m worried that B1 and B2 know what there getting themselves into running as they are against Phillip Ruddock and Andrew Downer, but what concerns me the most is Kelly’s observations of a recently published photo right here on the blog.

The fighter

I think there’s probably more than a grain of truth in what you say Kell, Chris is the aggressor as was obvious to Peter Blewitt in this next photo in the series. It was most likely he who gave me the black eyes and very lucky for mum or dad or Peter or whoever is taking the photo that we did not let him loose on them. It’s the jaw line and pursed lips that are most threatening I think. I can’t remember when Peter started training him but there is a legend that the right glove contained a horse shoe. Certainly enough room for one.
You photo buffs will note in this snap the degree to which the old high quality wide angle lenses could bend and distort the image-um-or maybe it was just the builder.
Recognising Chris’s potential the family and Peter uped roots to travel the European boxing circuit and whilst there were able to grab a few days holiday on the Mediterranean coast at a place called Santo’s Hole at Monaco as you see here documented. This hole was a particular favorite of the O”Keefe clan. Santo was one of the early explorers and banana growers in the province of Goolmangar, Monaco.
Photo buffs take note how the high quality wide angle lense liked subjects to be lined up to avoid depth of field problems.

Portugal

Hi everyone

Had a very relaxing time in Portugal for 3 days while we submitted my visa application to the home office. Lisbon is a great city - a real mix of European city culture and a beachy-holiday spot.

Would definitely love to see more of the country, especially the beaches in the south, but Lisbon was a great start. The Portugese food, wine and people are all delicious!

Here's some pics.... of the main square (Praca) with St George's Castle overlooking the city (my hostel was just through the archway).... one of Lisbon's colouful trams... and the beach at Cascais (on the west coast), a traditional fishing village that's now home to lots of ritzy golf resorts.

Loving all the photos of late! :) Kel xxx

Hi from Shellharbour

Well, I'm excited as Big Kev would say in that I can again upload photos to the blog. I downloaded Mozilla Firefox and now it works. So I have attached some Shellharbour photos and a nice one of mum taken at Kelly's 21st, an occasion that I think she really enjoyed.

As you my know Sue and I and olly have been staying at Shellharbour awaiting for Kelly's return and visiting Sue's mum who is still in hospital, at Wollongong now after being moved from Nowra. Shirley is not well, has her good and bad days, but her condition is generally failing. She is also fed up with being in hospital which does not help her mental state.

On a brighter note it looks like Kelly may be back this weekend, but there will be more news from her on that front as soon as confirmed. She is looking forward to catching up with everyone.

Shellharbour caravan park is a pleasant place to stay. Located on a point overlooking the harbour on one side and South beach on the other. The days have been sunny and the water temperature at 21 degrees is very nice for a swim. We take Olly on a beach walk every day and he has a ball smelling the other dogs and weeing on every piece of sea weed. The late afternoons and nights have been cool in the last week or so it's nice to get inside the van, warm up and check the blog. Since Robert told me about his set top box I have invested in one resulting in a much improved TV reception, thanks Robert. We are looking forward to heading north for the winter as soon as Kelly returns to London, and depending on Shirl's health. We have had visits from Hugh, Steve & Jeanette and Ed & Jill which have been very enjoyable.

Brain Compressor

How long will it take? There’s five TV channels without counting ABC 2 and that other SBS where so far I’ve seen nothing in any foreign language I can understand. There’s the internet with U- Tube, My Space, Face book and Torrent downloads all with the potential to download music and video from any where, of any time, at breathtaking speed. I’m not even going to mention radio, that’s just for the car. Who can even contemplate the need for cable when what we really need is another nine heads with their eighteen ears and eyes there nine more brains and attendant memories. We can record high speed on our DVD burners and download on compressed files but still seem to have the same antiquated viewing capacity and comprehension levels. When will Intel come up with a micro compressor for us, one that enables us to view three programs at once, listen and watch with individual ears and eyes, facilitate our comprehension of music at the speed of a compressed file, and one especially designed for me that enables all of this as I read a book, my first and best loved form of media. Until then I will go on looking blankly at that colleague trying to relate the machinations of Brother and Sister last night as surely as they will nod uncomprehendingly at my enchantment with Rockwiz or Zapper’s “Slime”, only enhancing our alienation. I can imagine a future where the super rich hire people strictly vetted by employment agencies, to watch and listen to programs for them so they won’t be out of touch.
In spite of this despair I once more intend to stay up and watch a world sporting event. The FA Cup Final I believe they call it and lets hope they are a bit more professional than those cricketers and don’t play it out in the dark. At least its being played in a civilized part of the world where it never, but always rains eh Kell. It’ll have to be very good to keep my interest, make no mistake. As I understand it they don’t even have bats and are not allowed to touch the ball so I don’t expect any classic catches or biff for that matter, though there may be some academy awards I understand. Wow look at this historical stuff, check those daggy shorts, oops here they are again, cool eh. Bugger hot pants Kylie I can’t wait to see footballers playing in leotards.
I woke up at half time last night and quickly assessed that I had missed nothing and that if I stayed up for the second half I would miss sleep so chose to go to bed.
Now lacking anything else to bore you with I shall continue with the photo essay as I can see it has you all spellbound. Since this blog will only publish photos at the beginning I shall have to leave it up to you to identify which picture I’m talking about thus turning it into a sort of game. Fascinating Eh! So interactive.
I doubt that these post war children’s fashions will ever be repeated, certainly not in such coarse fabrics. Take careful note of the two black eyes given me recently by Hugh and the look of terror on Chris’s face in realization that in spite of Hugh’s obvious patronage I shall certainly pass them on at the first opportunity. It’s just the natural order of things isn’t it? I think I’m reading this right, aren’t I?
Now this is very interesting. I think this photo had been cleverly hidden behind something else as I don’t recollect ever seeing it before. Quite obviously it’s a very young Kelly in the arms of none other than Barry (Bazza) MacKenzie which fits nicely into my theory of her true parentage and goes a long way to explaining her recent shenanigans, don’t you think?
What’s this? Some big game hunter just back from safari thinks he’s spotted a previously unknown species lurking behind Gabby’s ear but its just the arm of her new glasses. Silly billy he’s been out in the jungle too long.
This one has a very nice line to it don’t you think? The triangle is the most stable of forms of course, the secret to our stability even if Johns hairdo had to be sacrificed to achieve it.
That’l have to do for now, don’t want to put all your kindling on the one fire do you. Looking forward to your blogs. Have a nice day.
Robert

Photo Quiz

What do we see here? Two confident looking young men, certainly Peter on the left looks very self contained just as he always does in my vague memories of him. Michael also though his open now graffiti’d mouth possibly suggests just a little less cool than his elder brother. Could there be a starker contrast between these two and the others? Hugh in the front row though inclined to the back and me, well hiding really but with such display of adolescent attitude and that instantly reconisable slouching posture that has been my lifetime signature. Hugh’s folded arms and buttoned up jacket seem to be saying “I don’t want to be here” while my chin on chest slouch is probably saying “I wish I was there”. These big bold brash country boys were major peers, competitors, and role models for me and suspect for Hugh also when they came to live with us at Aintree along with their brother Paul and their mum and dad, Pauline and Mack, in 1952. Hugh was ten, I was seven and Chris of course was two. At seven, I was old enough to feel nothing but awed by these new older brothers who were, coming from a farming background, older, bigger and stronger so that I could not challenge but only hope to impress. This photo taken at Strathfield, at least ten and much likely more years later depicts to me an excellent portrait of this relationship. Adolescence is truly a very difficult period of life which I’m glad to say I’m almost over. I’d be interested to hear Hugh’s and particularly Chris’s memories if any of this period. I’d also be very interested in any therories about the graffiti artist and what the graffiti could mean if graffiti has meaning. I have handed the original over to CSI team but I’m not holding my breath and won’t be surprised to be treated as a suspect.

For Kell

Thats better, Every picture tells a story dont it, someone even added speech baloons to this one. I swear Hugh and I never had mullets but can find no explaination for those suspicious shadows below our ears.
You wo’nt get too much out of me tonight, I’m too calm and happy. Saturdays Bolognaise is sitting comfortably. The never ending cardboard cask is running nicely. The More-ish Macadamia Cottage Cookies wait unopened least they be called for. The delightful Clare Hooper has once more stolen the Side Show from Paul McDermot, does it get better than this? I can’t even find much to complain about in the recently departed week. There was variety, I spent Wednesday counting for stock take; 832 Mortien insect bomb, 912 AA batteries-pack of five, 1083 red wood door wedge, you get it, like Sesame Street. Thursday and Friday were beautiful days spent outdoors at the gate even beginning to enjoy the police role; “do you want to look in mi boot mate” “should I want to look in your boot mate”. Ahh; the games. Maybe I missed my calling. Today my mate Pete the Greek an invalid from the feet up, and its reached his shoulder, ran the gate as a light duties operation while I afforded him his breaks. This placed me in the best of both worlds, limited as they are, where my bipolar responsibilities to customer service in hardware and policing at the gate provided me with a sort of self employed persona where only I knew where I should be and when. Strongly reminiscent of my early public service experiences realy, but that’s another story. Now what’s this “The Bill” My favorite show as Alice will tell anyone willing to listen. Humph, you might get a blog after all. No forget that, SBS’s serving up the Eurovision Song Contest, Life does get better. Might just open those Cottage Cookies and get a refill, scuse me.

Where was I, Oh Yeah , lack of angst equals lead ball blog well I’m sorry but it’s about time you philistines stopped living off the backs of us artist yypes, Hmmm yypes ius good, shibbus you think, Olaks n’all what’s happening, Mr. Computers inventing a whole new language

Bet your glad I quit when I did last night, I certainly am. Hope you all had a wonderful Mothers Day and congratulations to any of you mothers watching. All day I kept thinking I should be somewhere and was relieved when I realized it was just the oncoming alzheimers like when I caught myself at Woolies the other day starring absently at the Goulburn Valley preserved fruit shelves.

What about those folk at sixty minutes, finally busting the Nigerian scam, it’s amazing isn’t it, not the scam, the bust, and the fact that Chanel 9 expect us to believe their actors posing as victims were taken in. Who could be so gullible, well, maybe these folk. Wish I’d paid more attention; I’ve still got a perfectly good Harbor Bridge for sale.

Better still what about that dagy Serbian girl winning the Eurovision blah. Reminds me of the photos I saw of Walters Serbian neighbor’s daughter’s wedding. Walter and his family were guests at the event that started at nine with a tumbler of Schnapps and a beer chaser at the purpose built under house reception center and ended for Walter and family at three o’clock when the couple were finally wed and off to their reception. Lucky for Walter, his wife Micky was not expected to join in the boys macho drinking games so she could drive. As for Maryana and her groom, I guess if there strong enough to survive that then there tough enough for anything that life may throw there way. All Walter can remember is a blur of animal carcasses and the coffee van that turned up post breakfast, pre nuptials-very civilized.

Makes you wonder what Alice and Jack might have up their sleeves eh. Not me though as I have a much better idea of their budget, ethnic origins and the expectations of their most important guests. Something too look forward to though isn’t it. It’s crossed my mind to try to incorporate my family day, just kidding he he. I’m actually looking forward to hosting you all at Stanmore, yeah plenty of room as long as you all come by public transport. Just kidding again, no not about Stanmore, just about public transport.

What about Kelly’s date a! D’yuh think she’ll marry him. Maybe if she can hold back the burps long enough. The early stages of romance are so sensitive aren’t they. So much easier post nuptial when you can belch and fart to your hearts-no make that bowels-content. Don’t worry mum she was very well behaved. I’m sorry Kell, I realise that now you will have to keep the Okeefe’s blog secret from Martin but as I’ve said your emails crack me up, it’s your fault, I can’t help it. You have my permission to edit this out should it be necessary. PS what does it mean that he’s not covered in blood?

Mr. Computer has been very well behaved since I discovered his addiction to WD-40, I should have guessed that as a machine he would crave the stuff. He’s currently keeping me entertained with Mark Bolans “Children of the Revolution” which contains that possibly best ever lyric, “I’ve got a Rolls Royce cause it’s good for my voice”. I love you Mr. Computer, Only recently he was entertaining me with Lou Reed’s Sweet Jane who’s life was saved by rock and roll and now the Marvellets are pleading to Mr. Postman for a letter of the type I suspect Kell would like to receive from Martin. Sorry Kell I promise to get off your back soon and that would be email of course, who’s ever heard of a letter.

Better go now least I once more start Kelly baiting, or Mr. Computer starts up writing in that funny language of his. Love you all, really. Bye.

Make a note in your diaries

Hi family!

Keep 24 November free because that’s the day Jack and I are getting married! We’ve just booked our venue and I wanted you special people to be the first to know. Of course, you’ll be receiving invites in the mail, so I won’t give you anymore info here.

Love to you all,
Alice

Back on your bike

I’m sure that you will all be pleased to see here that I’m once more riding my bike and thus getting excellent exercise especially my teeth.

Mr. Computer had a medical crisis recently but after a couple of days in traction he’s up and about good as gold. He hadn’t been well for a month or so really, had some terrible blackouts and seizures during which I wasn’t very patient or sympathetic. Once or twice I even fell into a Heffernen like rage accusing him of being a Ms. Computer and a red head too boot. I regretted these rages when he finally completely collapsed and I realized how much I missed him and made outlandish financial commitments to the Computer Benevolent Society which will surely bankrupt me if they are ever called in.

Back on line this afternoon after a leisurely luncheon with Hugh and Alice at the salubrious Crystal Palace Hotel, on the throbbing intersection of Central and China Town, where we were treated to the finest wines served up by Gladys with the complexion and attitude of the toughest shoe leather in town, while Serge prepared for us some of the finest Aussie Italian food you can get for under ten dollars. Now, much more inclined to an afternoon nap, I blog for you my loyal fans who are always my foremost consideration.

I’m wondering whether Chris and Sue made it over to Goulburn this weekend to pay their respects to the Big Merino who underwent bypass surgery last week. I’ve not heard the results so I’m hoping no news is good news.

My week was typical, out of the darkness and despair of back to work Wednesday, over the hump of Thursday through the plotting of Friday to the sunrise of Saturday - or sunset really because that starts the weekend. Saturdays highlights included saving the life of the big Maori – smaller than the Big Merino though formidable and in need of care none the less. He came swaying and staggering toward me at my gate post and had he fallen, with his scale, he would surely have killed himself, unless he had fallen on me in which case I would have been post at my post. I sat him in my chair and administered all of my first aid skills, that is nothing, as no brandy is kept at the gate house. He was sweating though quite cold. He gave off no smell of alcohol at 9.00AM. I knew I should hold his eye lid and shine a light but I had no light and am unsure as to whether this is a diagnostic tool or a cure in itself. After a few minutes sit he returned to staggering around the yard appearing to be trying to get his bearings by the stars at 9.00AM. He staggered in the direction of my coordinator (see superior) and I alerted him to his condition. Once more he was sat for some minutes and although all coordinators have first aid training I saw no lights being shone into eyes. Once more on his feet and in full stagger he was on his way back to me. What to do other than try to sit him and reduce potential damage to one of us. Got it, call someone, “Mate is there anyone I can call”. Like a magic spell out comes a mobile phone. His fingers are so big they can only press all keys at once and all he can concentrate on is deleting messages so I snatch it, find his address book and start asking him can I call: Al, Alsco, BMG, Ben, etc. till I get to Chris, “that’s mi daughter”. Beauty I’ll ring her, if I was in your shape I’d want someone to ring my daughter. “She’s in New Zealand” Oh! What about Col, Dennis, Din. Maybe we should ring your daughter in NZ, She might know someone local. He’s coming around to this reasoning when he says “where’s Alsco” and I remember the linen laundry service across the road and at the same time notice that the corporate shirt he’s wearing has Alsco written on it and remember Alsco in his address book. Bingo! I call and explain to Coll who I am and that I have his sick employee. No sign of surprise from Coll just a matter of fact “I’ll come and get him, which he does in a matter of minutes. Staggerer, I never did find out his name, wants to take me to the pub to reward my first aid skills but I decline.

Now it’s only natural to want loose ends tied, or to see t’s crossed and i’s dotted so to speak and in this vein it’s interesting to conjecture, what was with this bloke, the staggerer. Was he pissed? The first and most common response to my story. Well I think I’ve had a fair experience of alcohol and would expect anyone so out of control of his balance and memory – he had no idea where he was – would have had to consume a large amount of very strong alcohol very recently. I know of many claims by folk that some spirits, Vodka for instance, can go undetected in the olfactory zone but I’ve seen, no smelt this many times disproved. People who have consumed large amounts of alcohol, any alcohol, reek don’t they? Drugs is the next most popular conclusion and maybe so but what I want to know is what’s wrong with stroke – whatever stroke is when not accompanied with – the cat. Maybe he’d been shot or stabbed, believe me this guy was big enough that the bullet could have been still struggling its way to his brain. Crazy things happen, Look at Rasputin.
Now as a conspiracy theorist I like to think that over there at Alsco Linen Services where they remove as my Laundromat man does with just a few extra chemicals, all those stains from the sheets and towels of our hotels, hospitals and jails, that the work environment could be a little less than the healthy lavender filled one portrayed by their apologists – er - publicists. This would help to explain the nonchalance with which Coll handled my distressed call and subsequent pick up of the Staggerer.

Otherwise it was a normal Saturday except for the seventeen year old from Castle Hill who was escorted from the premises by security and banned for a week. Yes lads it’s not only the Epping Hotel that engages in such practices. Try to imagine the humiliation of this lippy young lad not to mention the ongoing stress of not being able to return for a week. I was the only one from the other side, perched as I am at the coalface, that he could approach to solve the problem of how to remake contact with his Father who was inside and unaware his sons dilemma. Accommodatingly I paged his dad a couple of times to meet his son at the car to which dad paid scant heed leaving him in my company for the best part of an hour during which as a gatekeeper and starved of contact I found him amiable company. Of Yugoslav origin – his dad and he conversed in a foreign tongue – and privileged background – he could not remember whether his Castle Hill home had four or five bedrooms – I found it most remarkable that he did not have a mobile phone. He’d successfully returned a bag of Concrete Mix, $4.50, and was attempting to return alleged faulty drill bits for which he had no receipt when he had an altercation with the coordinator who had him evicted. I have no evidence but strongly suspect that there was an argument in which ethnic slanders were bandied about. This lad was I suspect very much his fathers son displaying as he did firm beliefs that global warming was fiction and that Work Choices was written in the Bible in Jesus own handwriting. I suspect that the concrete and drill bit returns were some right of passage leading to some form of conformation.

Think that’s all I want to harangue you with for now. Delightful to see all the recent activity in the blogosphere. I’m not worried about new fangled Facebook baloney. The’ll never replace the blog. Not.

Robert Not

Beautiful Santorini

Did I mention that greece is my new favourite holiday destination? Here's why...

Not a very good housewife

Hi everyone!

Kel, thanks for your year in review. I miss you. I hope your sponsorship stuff is coming along so you can come home for a visit soon.

Well as you all know, Jack and I have moved into a new place – a tiny little flat in Kirribilli that seems bigger than it is because of the lovely park, harbour and bridge outlook from the loungeroom windows. I can empathise with Kelly’s excitement/amazement at having paid rent, signed contracts, shrunk clothes and bought kitchen utensils – although I was living between Jack’s house and Dad’s, I now realise that I wasn’t quite as independent as I imagined, and that making home is a lot of effort. So, I’ve discovered something that most of you have known for years – cleaning, shopping, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, washing, and more cleaning, along with working four days to pay bills, going to uni, doing assignments and trying to have a life seeing friends and family, as well as getting some sleep, is rather exhausting. Gab, you’ve got the right idea – hang in there as long as possible.

Of course, the cleaning, washing and food preparation tend to be the things that get done last, but I think we’re doing well – especially with the occasional visit from mum and dad who have helped us unpack, hang blinds, and get new plates that fit in our new dishwasher… that’s right, I said dishwasher! Our hectic schedules and disdain for cleaning dishes after working and cooking, led us to make this wonderful acquisition! And we’re extremely happy with Thaw, our benchtop dishwasher, despite the gibes of all our friends – despite common beliefs that dishwashers waste lots of precious water, don’t adequately clean dishes and scratch glasses, we happen to know that household water consumption is only 7% of total water consumption, and that dishwashers are more hygienic since they wash at such high temperatures.

On the other hand, I’m not so happy with the washing machine – I spent most of last Sunday washing and ruining clothes while I should have been doing assignments, simply because it rained for so long up until then and I had to make the most of the sunshine. My black pants ended up covered in washing powder because I didn’t put it in the right place, Jack’s work pants ended up covered in white towel fluff and everything is so dull looking despite my use of more than enough Softly. And everything was so wrinkly, which means even more work – ironing!! Luckily the washing machine is only on lend from a friend who is storing it at our place, and once he needs it back, I’ll be following in the footsteps of Dad and heading to the laundromat where we can pay $7 for a big bag of laundry that comes back smelling fresh, and looking smooth and bright.

Lunckily I don't have to do any cooking because Jack does that.

So enough about chores… am I ranting like my dad? (Not that there's anything wrong with ranting, Dad.)

Work’s good. I get moved onto different magazines constantly depending on who resigns, but for the moment it looks like I’ll be writing for Weight Watchers magazine permanently. It’s quite a good magazine actually, since I get to research and write about a lot of health and body issues, and science/health journalism is something I’m increasingly interested in. Unfortunately I paid no attention in science class at school so I have a lot to learn if I ever want to be a science reporter. And although there are some more exciting jobs out there that I could go for right now, I think I’ll stick it out here till I finish uni at the end of this year.

Jack’s great, he’s very happy with our new home and dishwasher, and is also busy with work and uni – he’s studying a Masters of Dispute Resolution, with the aim of becoming a mediator, and he’s looking at doing a post-grad law degree for the next 2 years so our lives definitely aren’t going to get less busy any time soon.

Busy life has got in the way of wedding plans so nothing much has happened there, I’ll make sure you’re all the first to know when something does happen – the only news is that I’ve asked Gabby to be my one and only bridesmaid.

I better get back to work. This has been long but I haven’t posted for so long and I’m hoping this’ll make up for it. By the way, I misplaced my diary during the move and haven’t been able to find it – when’s the date and location of our next family day?? Don’t tell me it’s my dad’s!

Love to all and although I don’t blog often myself, I love reading all of yours,
Alice

P.S. to Cat – have you found out what’s happening with the Cannes trip, and when are you going to Adelaide?

P.S. to Kel – you should get on Facebook with Cat, Hugh and I. You should too Gab!