Happy Easter to you all. Today I am thankful for the following:
1) My wonderful, kind, generous, loving husband
2) My beautiful, happy, clever daughter
3) My home: it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
4) My extended family, despite the racket they make
5) My job and how lucky I am to have it
6) My friends (my best friend, who I mentioned in [this post](http://kiwifruit-the-blog.co.nz/2009/03/the-mopes.html), is driving up to spend the night tonight – we have lots to talk about…)
But most of all, I am thankful for:
7) Queen Anne Dark Chocolate Marshmallow Easter Eggs! Yippee!

Greetings to you all at the end of my second day at my all-new job. Even though it’s only been a mere three months, I’d forgotten how a full day’s work sitting in front of a computer number-crunching (um, as opposed to faffing round on Facebook or blogsurfing…) has the ability to totally liquidise the brain. Meh.

This means that all intentions of 50 minutes on the treadmill (to ward off those desk jockey kilos, several of which I managed to shed over the summer) have gone out the window tonight, and I won’t be considering any intentional physical activity until the weekend.

Seeing as it’s Easter and therefore traditional to consume kilos of Hot Cross Buns smothered in lashings of butter and one’s own body weight in chocolate-coated marshmallow Easter eggs, I better make sure I do something active otherwise than shovel said delicacies into my mouth.

As for the all-new job, it’s going to be extremely busy one, but first there’s a lot of organisation and delegation and streamlining to do, plus some serious sorting out of “helpless” men who wander in off the factory floor wanting to know how to work the photocopier, despite being shown countless times.

As for the Other Harf, he’s officially announced his resignation to his team (some of whom “broke down” at the news but I suspect some gross exaggeration on the OH’s part here) and the rest of the company, fending off the very best efforts from his manager to intice him to stay on. He finishes at the end of May, and plans on having a bit of a break from the paid workforce.

Little does he know he’s about to enter the unpaid workforce! A Everest-sized stockpile of firewood is gathering, waiting for the chop even as I type this…

Bwah-ha-hah!

Daylight saving bid us a fond farewell overnight, and buggered off to the northern hemisphere for six months. Fittingly, for the first time in donks, I had to put on some woolly socks and a fleecy hoody and remark to everybody in the house “Ooooh, temperature’s dropped, hasn’t it?”

Today I was gifted a day to do exactly what I wanted as the Other Harf has whisked Miss 8.6 off to a Brownie Day Out on Ruakaka Beach learning all about surf lifesaving and tides and keeping our beaches clean. I took her along last year, and the weather was a hell of a lot warmer, so we were all able to go swimming, but I seriously doubt whether the OH will fancy it today. However, regardless of the temperature Miss 8.6 will insist on going in, and will have to be forcibly extracted with chattering teeth and blue skin.

So, I fully planned on doing lots of printing of photos for the hallway family gallery, but it’s 2pm and I have printed diddly-squat due to the contrary, fickle nature of our brand new HP printer, which, if it doesn’t spit something out within the next half an hour will be thrown on the pile of inorganic rubbish Bruvinlaw is stockpiling over at the Beige Barn. What is it with flipping printers! They have a vendetta against me, I *swear* it.

I leave you with one of my photography/gardening combo snaps from yesterday; a slice of sunshine yellow on an overcast autumn afternoon.

(Oooh, and wish me luck for tomorrow, it’s my first day at my new job, yay!)

It’s been a pottering sort of day, and I haven’t done as much as I normally would of, all to due to a hormonal onslaught that wiped me out for most of the morning, the fecker. It was sudden, it was deadly, and I had no alternative but to dial the Other Harf (who was in town with Miss 8.6 at swimming lessons), order me some emergency Ponstan and plead for him not to be too long getting home. Arrgh, evil horrible nasty pain!

So, once the chemicals kicked in (hellelujah!) and I was smiling instead of gritting my teeth, I did a bit of combo gardening/photography until 4.30ish, then after a deliciously hot shower I plonked myself in front of the PC and did my usual Facebook/blog/Twitter/Picasa/Elements routine.

An hour into my reverie, Bruvinlaw drifts in, at a loose end due to Lil’Sis being down in Auckland on baby shower duty, and hovers over my shoulder.

“So, Twitter eh? Everybody’s talking about that.” (I suspect, no, I know that my brother-in-law is secretly intrigued by internet geekery – he’s always asking what I’m up to when the PC’s on)
“Yep.”
“So…what is Twitter, exactly?”
“Well…it’s sort of like a text message, but it’s a huge world-wide community, where you can share what you’re doing with 100 people, or 20 people. It’s all up to you.”
“Cool!”
“You can follow friends, or business people, or celebrities. Stephen Fry is on Twitter. Barack Obama (apparently) is too. And people follow you, in return.”
“Awesome. How do you do it?”
“On the web, or by texting. You should get twittering!”
“Nah. What the f***k would I have to say? Dug a drain. Back killing me. Retaining wall contractor still hasn’t turned up, the bastard.”
“Mmmm, I see your point….”

As he wandered off, wearing a slightly resigned expression, I realised that out of all my family, he now was the only one who had a vague clue what Twitter was; my husband, my parents, my sister, they simply would have no clue whatsover: I am the official the cyber-black sheep. 

So, does your family know the meaning of Twitter? Blog? Facebook?

The Other Harf is wearing a dirty great big grin today, as after months of waiting, he was finally able to hand in his resignation.

Why? Because yours truly got herself a job*! WOO-HOO! I’ve been waiting almost a week to hear (after my second interview/interrogation last Wednesday) and yesterday afternoon I finally got the call.

The job is the same beancounting sort of role I did at my last job, but this time it’s for a small local construction company instead of a large international publishing and media corporation – and instead of working in an office of 100 women and 10 men, I’ll be working in a company of three women and 60 men, so some big differences there.

And it’s a whole new role as the company is expanding so rapidly (which can only be a good thing in this grey, doomstricken era of Global Economic Downturn) and my new boss seems like a very cool lady.

I hope I’m going to like it….I think I’m going to.

It’s been a fabulous summer and I’m grateful that I’ve been able to spend three months outdoors in gorgeous summer weather (as is our garden) – now it’s time for my long-suffering husband to find a job that doesn’t involve twelve hour days and working weekends, the poor love.

A thoughtful someecard that I received today from my lovely yet slightly cynical friend Edna. Bless her.

*A deal we struck – I really wanted part-time work but I wanted him to leave his job, which has been making him miserable for months now, even more, so that meant taking a full-time position instead as part-time won’t support us if he’s unemployed for a long period of time. Yes it is true, I am truly a wonderful wife.