Katherine Hayton | BLOG

03 Mar / Manflu

My darling has been struck with some sort of dread disease.

It makes his throat burn with mild soreness; occasionally even forcing him to break into a shallow cough. It makes his nose run in a torrent of hot air because there’s not a lot of mucus making an appearance. Certainly not enough for the amount of moaning going on.

Apparently I’m also suffering from a serious disease.

The disease of I-don’t-understand-how-bad-it-is that only effects the female of the species. This makes me blind to pain, and also causes me to greatly underestimate the hardship that my darling is going through, and even at times causes me to inappropriately react with inaction when I should instead be administering to him.

I must admit the disease I suffer from is taking its own toll. My throat is also sore. It isn’t easy to mock for hours at a time.

My brave soldier did attempt to make his way into the office today to put in a good solid day of work.

Oh. My mistake.

I meant a good solid hour of work.

Poor baby. If you or anyone you know would like more information on this terrible illness please take a look at the following link, it will tell you everything you need to know.

Man Flu: Fact versus Fiction

Mainly fiction.

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02 Mar / Karma

Last week (when we scarily ventured forth into the land known as Sydenham) my darling was short-changed at the bar. He handed over a $20 and received in return a plastic cup of beer and $2.50.

Now, I know that it’s been a long time since we went out for a drink together, and I realise that every time people talk about inflation the word rampant is bandied about, but even still it seemed a bit too much of a price-hike.

It was solidified by the next monetary exchange which resulted in more change, and more plastic cups.

You know the world is heading into a tailspin when a bartender can’t give you the correct change.

But on the weekend we discovered that the universe has a plan. Karma is present and correct, baby.

Whilst browsing in the meat section trying to find specially priced about-to-expire meat or meat-like products, I found this!

Rather than weighing the forty-four grams on the label it actually weighed just a tad over one and a half kilograms. At $6.50 per kilo (less the actual $0.29 charge) that comes out around about a ten dollar saving.

Or, in karmatic terms, my apologies, Sir. Here’s your extra change.

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Big Little LiesBig Little Lies by Liane Moriarty
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This was a nice, funny, and surprising read.

I’ve never read Liane Moriarty before, and was delighted to find that she’s an Australian author (about three seconds into the Audible version) and the story was set very close to where we holiday each year.

It’s a woman’s fiction/murder mystery which not only doesn’t let you know whodunnit but doesn’t let you know whoitwasdunto either.

The main story is set around Jane – a young mother – and her entry into a close-knit neighbourhood just as her son is starting preschool, and it grows from the details of the interactions she and her son have with their new community.

Two other women share the limelight – Celeste and Madeline – as they enter into a tight friendship of three. Gradually it becomes clear that although all of Madeline’s skeletons are rattling around merrily in full view, Jane and Celeste hold their big little lies a lot tighter to their chests.

There’s a rather wonderful effect at the ends of segments where a selection of interviewees have small snippets about incidents that have occurred throughout the story. As in real life, no one’s story tallies up in the slightest with anyone else’s, and it lends lovely light refreshing intervals to a novel which in time deals with some very unlovely subjects.

A very easy and enjoyable read, and one that made me immediately purchase another of Liane Moriarty’s books for my Kindle to-be-read list.

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28 Feb / Updates

I remember a day not so long ago when I sat down on the couch with a new box containing GTAV and decided to open it right then and there and play it.

There were a couple of dozen different other things that needed doing. Things to organise, things to write, things to edit, things to clean. As per a typical day off work the amount of work-like things that still need doing seems endless, when all you’re looking forward to is a bit of a break and a bit of fun.

Luckily, I’m well equipped to ward off feelings of guilt about writing deadlines going by, and I tend not to notice things need doing around the house until they’re forcibly intruding on my life; such as not being able to see the TV screen for dust.

So I gladly ripped off the wrappings and fed the disc into the mouth of my hungry wee PS4.

A couple of PS and Xs later the game was loading up. It was then that the trouble started.

One hour. That’s how long it takes GTAV to load up the first time you go to play it. Unlike some genders I don’t appreciate an almost naked cartoon lady, or view it as an entertaining immersive viewing experience. An hour is too long to stare at one.

So I’ve learned my lesson. The Order 1886 arrived this week. Today I went in and updated Playstation (because it requires that each time I turn it on) and then I inserted the disc. I then updated the system again, and installed the game, and then waited for it to load, and then updated the system to be able to play the game because God knows why but the previous update didn’t get it updated enough.

Then I turned it off.

That was actually me physically turning it off, not the system turning itself off so it can reset and then turn itself on again and then update and turn itself off to be able to turn itself on again properly.

I plan to play it tomorrow, and was already planning that when I went in today. This way I may have wasted time today, but I haven’t wasted playing time.


I’m beginning to think this is why Farm Heroes on my phone still holds such sway over me.

Now the only danger is if the game is complete crap and I stop after fifteen minutes shaking my head in dismay. But then again, that’s probably not my Playstation system’s fault.

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26 Feb / I saw the light

Last night my darling and I tried something new.

We went out on a school night to a pub on the wrong side of the tracks to see a band perform songs that haven’t really been performed live since the lead singer topped himself thirty years ago, and which only one of us (me) enjoys.

I have not been to a pub in a very long time. We’ve been in restaurants that pretend to be pubs while really being places that people gather to eat and talk. We’ve been to restaurants that just happen to have a bar service (no matter how many ye oldes they put in their signs), but a proper pub that exists solely to sell alcohol to the general public and support people’s addiction to TAB betting? It’s been a long time man.

But I breathed in the smell of many people, some unwashed, crowding into a small space which a couple of manual fans were really not well equipped to keep cool, and I cradled my Coke Zero in a fancy plastic cup close to my chest until the ice melted.

The good news was that the band was due to start at eight, and the songs I wanted to hear were due to be played first. That meant, all going well, we would be heading back out the door at eight-thirty and hailing a taxi home.

Apparently bands are not known for their punctuality.

I waited, and grew accustomed to the fact that it was going to be standing room only. My knees locked into place to hold me upright, unused to being utilised in such a way for such a long time. I wasn’t looking forward to when they unlocked.

But then the band came out and began to play. My darling inquired after one song if I knew it and if I liked it, in a way that implied incredulity.

Eight songs later, and we were out of there. We asked the doorman if there was a taxi stand nearby, but from the confused look on his face we gathered we were on our own.

My least favourite thing is to talk to people on the phone, but since it was my night out I swallowed my anxiety and dialed up the taxi company.

The lady dispatcher said that she’d send a call out and a taxi should make it out there soon. I was slightly concerned at the implication that a taxi might fail in the attempt to make it across the wrong side of the tracks, but one did eventually arrive.

All up, even though we’d ventured out from the safety of home on a school night, we were tucked up in bed a mere half hour later than we’d usually be.

So, a night’s disruption, a couple of painful knees, a two-hundred and ten dollar investment for eight songs lasting just under half an hour. Was it worth it.

To see and hear Joy Division songs performed live in front of a crowd of people my own advanced age? Sure it was.

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25 Feb / 99c sale

Hardly counts as a blog post, but still…

99c Sale now on for Skeletal. Available anywhere good books are sold, as long as you’re shopping on Amazon, and you’re based in the USA.

‘Cause I don’t like to discriminate.

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24 Feb / Presents

A received a very nice surprise for pre-Valentine’s day this year (yes, I am aware the date is now a distant memory). Or should I say, several nice surprises.

There was a beautiful bouquet of flowers delivered to the office in the morning. This was Friday morning, hence the pre-Valentine’s because there’s no use sending them to a home address. No, the purpose of flowers is to flaunt them in front of all the people you work with every day who don’t waste money on such gorgeous extravagances and therefore live much duller lives. But retire earlier.

There was another surprise in the afternoon, courtesy of an overworked delivery driver’s inability to fulfill the requirement to deliver prior to midday. Fudge. This is what you need from your darling when everyone else is strenuously avoiding the fact you’ve gained yet another twenty pounds you’re probably not going to lose. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I love surprise presents where you’re not sure about the whys or the wherefores but just get to sit back and thank the giver for the giving, and the present for the being present.

Today I took home another present, which wasn’t a surprise because I knew I’d ordered it, but was a surprise due to being order on hotpoints (credit card scheme) thereby arriving on a schedule unknown to anyone but the bankers that be.

It is a wonderful quiet boil kettle which is coloured a deep dark red with a sheen of polish over top of it so that it glows like the finest enamel jewellery.

I suggested that the proper thing to do now is to redecorate the entire kitchen to match. It was an idea whose time has not come.

Another nice surprise present was announced on my phone at mid-morning. A lovely antique chinese nail guard in cloisonne and silver. I wondered for a moment who had bought me that, and then vaguely remembered at one in the morning when I was still awake I’d decided to comb ebay antique jewellery for a distraction for not sleeping.

Ohhhh, you shouldn’t have.

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Big BrotherBig Brother by Lionel Shriver
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Oh, this book led me down the garden path nicely. I was so surprised at the turn this book took after the first half and, beguiled by Lionel Shriver’s beautiful language, I followed it merrily along growing more and more frustrated that it just didn’t seem like a Lionel Shriver tale AT ALL. Thankfully, I then careered headlong into the relief and satisfaction of a wonderful ending.

Big Brother tells the deceptively simple tale of a sibling relationship that’s strained in more ways than one when Pandora’s much admired older brother Edison falls down on his luck and moves in for an extended visit.

Years having passed since she last laid eyes on him, Pandora is taken aback to discover her brother has grown far wider than he’s grown wiser.

Bored with her successful business venture, and constantly irked by her husband’s overzealous health kick, Pandora mounts a challenge to her brother. She’ll devote her full attention to him, including moving out of her family home, as long as he follows her exact instructions to lose the weight he’s gained. All 223 pounds of it.

This is a sometimes uncomfortable read as Lionel Shriver confronts head-on the taboo that society has constructed around its overweight citizens. No one gathering the courage to confront an overweight person directly, while at the same time feeling the right to comment and pass judgement behind his back, all in the guise of concern about health.

Delightful, ambitious, and a completely fulfilling read. My favourite book so far this year.

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22 Feb / Rain check

This morning I woke up to the last morning of my holiday, and discovered to my delight that it was raining.

I was delighted because me and my darling have been very good this holiday, and have been going for a lot of long walks up steep hills most mornings.

Due to this the following parts of my body now hurt each morning:
Lower Back
Ribs (and no, I don’t know what they’re doing when I’m walking either, but they do hurt so I presume they’re involved somehow)
Upper Arms (ditto)

I’ve also had a headache, but I have a feeling that’s a reactionary thing trying to ward off further damage by making me too unwell to go in the first place. Certainly, once I’ve got in the car it recognises defeat and immediately dissipates.

I’ve somehow managed to hide the crippling effects, because when my darling said, ‘It’s too wet to go for a walk,’ I immediately replied ‘Thank goodness.’

So emphatic was my response that further inquiries were necessitated and I explained I’d been in a certain amount of pain almost constantly for the best part of five days. My darling did point out that I could always say no, but I pointed out that in that case he would win and we can’t have that.

And before you ask, if you don’t know why he would win then you don’t understand spousal-like relationships and I can’t tell you. And yes that is the relationship advice version of “if you don’t know what you’ve done wrong then I can’t tell you.”

So I’ve had a nice day lolling on the couch, thinking of things to do, and then thinking of extravagant excuses for why I won’t do them. And watching Watership Down for the first time since I was eight and got upset at the fight between Bigwig and General Woundwort despite having already read the book and knowing perfectly well how it ended.

Then at two o-clock I said ‘Oh look, the sun’s coming out,’ to which my darling responded, ‘Yes, I thought we could go for a nice walk once this ended,’ (referring to the episode of The West Wing we were watching).

And you know what? I could hardly say no then, could I?

So we went for a “lovely walk” and now I can barely move because of the checklist shown above.

I am so glad that I’m going back to work tomorrow. We don’t hold with long walks in my office. Sitting is all the rage.

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