Earning A Crust

It is six months ago this week that we first blinked at the southern sun and wondered whose bloody stupid idea it was to come here.

In some ways it seems like five minutes ago and in others like we have been living here for ages. We have gone through the trial and error routines of finding a favourite beach, favourite pub and the bus routes that get us where we want to go. We have also become part of the system with driving licences, medical insurance, a lease on the house and parking tickets.

We have bought a car, bless it, which has gone further and faster than I ever dreamt possible and got a decent job each. So, with a bit of luck to help us out along the way, the ledger looks OK.

So far, since putting ourselves at the disposal of the South Australian economy, we have been pretty lucky and things have worked out fairly well. Mandy has been in great demand as a nurse and I, after work as a removal man and ticket collector, have found a comfy swivelling chair from which to earn a living.

After moving around from ward to ward, being the new girl on the Intensive Care Unit means being assigned all the rotten shifts. While they do it with a broad smile and a pat on her back, Mandy knows this is an inevitable part of the process. Although the money is good, very good, working from Good Friday through to Easter Monday, immediately followed by three night shifts, is a prospect which would make most nurses shudder.

On the other hand, I have been pretty lucky in landing a job with the city council. I am based in lovely offices in the heart of the city, working with 800 people who are largely as helpful, open and friendly as you could wish for.

On top of that, my terms of employment include a table tennis table, subsidised massages (lovely), and, when I take my books back late, no library fines.

So far, Maltese Eric has consistently cleaned me up at ping pong, but I am getting better. This week though I am taking on an Aussie from Transport Planning with the high stakes of a few beers on the outcome. The hairs on my neck are rising at the prospect of beating him. Beating an Aussie at anything is an exciting prospect.

As if that wasn’t enough, we have the most agreeable routine of morning tea, which, depending on your perspective, is either one of the great institutions of local government or another excuse for council employees to stand around gossiping.

It works like this. Every week, two people on our floor of 50 or so take it in turns to put on nibbles and coffee for everyone else. For thirty minutes the city stops and we all tuck in. It is very sociable and a chance for the talented and imaginative among the staff to show off a little. This week was my turn to put on the show along with a very friendly lady from town planning.

Well!…..I wouldn’t mind popping round to her house for my dinner. She came up with the most fantastic home made cookies, and dozens of them. My mouth is watering just typing this. I simply do not have the words to do credit to her efforts. Wow.

Fortunately for those of us less blessed in the kitchen, Adelaide has a produce market beyond compare. I will tell you more another day, but for now, I was able to saunter up to one of the many dedicated cheese stalls and put myself in their capable hands.

After explaining my situation to the more than helpful staff, I spent the next 20 minutes tasting a variety of South Australian cheeses and walked back to work with something for every taste and enough for the appetites of a couple of dozen hairy building assessors.

If you like your food and wine, this really is the town for you.

Have a good week
W&M