I'm Late, I'm Late ... Again

On Sunday I had all sorts of ideas about what this week's post might be. Can't recall a single one tonight; can't even recall why I didn't post on Sunday. What excuse did I have? Most likely I decided that watching Persuasion on ABC1 was far more important than turning on the computer. (I did try to watch it with an open mind but, really, it wasn't a patch on the Amanda Root/Ciarin Hinds version. Anne spent too much time staring into the lens of the camera and, much as I adore Rupert Penry-Jones in Spooks, he is simply too handsome to be Captain Wentworth.)

At midweek, the household is weary. Mr M appears to have 'slap face'. He did have a cold over the long weekend and this evening came home from playschool with a bright red right cheek. My internet search has found results that lurch from informing me it's terribly contagious and hangs around for months, to the more comforting announcement that by the time the red rash appears, the worst is over. This is why you shouldn't rely too much on the Internet to diagnose illness. For a little while following my diagnosis last year, I tried to research my disease and possible treatments on the web. It seemed to be the thing to do if you wanted to take control of your treatment and be what we called, in the days when I worked in consumer affairs, an 'informed consumer'. It was hellish. Invariably, I found myself hot on the trail of a possible treatment (usually of a 'natural' variety) only to discover an hour later that I was caught up in loony-land and being asked to pay not insignificant dollars for a 'cure'. In the end, I stuck to the most mainstream websites I could find and relied on the medical profession for advice. At times, this felt like a cop-out, as if I was abdicating responsibility for my own recovery. Most of the time, though, I believed that relying on the Internet was the surest way to madness. Now how did I get on to this?

It hasn't been all colds and weariness this week, though. Mr M has a new 'big boy' carseat, which he has taken to with enthusiasm. I did think he was going to cling to his old seat and refuse change but he has adapted to his new booster and H-harness willingly. I have a new mobile phone - with a camera - although I still can't work out how to email photos. A phonecall to the provider's helpline is required. Once I have that sorted, though, I'll be able to add photos more easily to 52 Sundays. And we went on a small bookshop crawl on Sunday on which I found two treasures - this one on the work of Margaret Atwood and this one which I had been thinking about buying on ebay for a much higher price than I paid in Fyshwick!

A Week in Dot Points

• Tuesday: worked.
• Wednesday: worked.
• Thursday: worked a very long day due to corporate function held at 6pm.
• Friday: worked ... with the assistance of a couple of skim cappucinos.
• Saturday: took the little one to watch his cousins play footy. On the north-western edge of Canberra. Not a house in view, just large green playing fields (despite the drought) and scrubby paddocks on the other side of the carpark. The under-8s playing footy were vigorous, enthusiastic scraps of energy - except when they were distracted by their new mouthguards or the play moved too far away from them and they were free to watch the clouds or kick tufts of grass. Made a delicious citrus delicious for dinner - why have I assumed that you can only use lemons? The combination of oranges and lemons was uplifting.
• Sunday: slept through the middle of the day, thanks to the thoughtfulness of the two boys. Even the littlest one kept his attempts at playing Superman to the non-bedroom end of the house. This meant I had the energy to stay awake and watch Emma on ABC1. Hmmm, it wasn't inspired but it was a pleasant enough reminder of why I love the book. Did Mr Knightley have to look so ghastly, though? And why was Emma lit so that she looked like she had a moustache? Obviously, I wasn't fully engaged or I wouldn't have noticed these things.
• Monday: swimming lessons. We have started again this term after having to abort last year's attempt due to my illness. This year, we are trying a company that uses the term 'tots' in its name. This has caused some problems because Mr M insists he is not a baby and doesn't need to learn to swim with babies. He has, however, almost mastered the art of floating and can't stop smiling when he is in the water with his teacher. I can't stop smiling because at this swim school I don't have to be in the water with him. Although the pool is small and other classes are going on in various parts of it, I can have a little swim of my own, on my own.

TV's Night of Nights

It's Logies night. Both boys are asleep so I've snuck out to the loungeroom to watch a little bit of the Logies. This is a fairly meaningless thing to do because these days I watch very little television. True, I was a committed viewer of Robin Hood (which ended last Sunday night - and how dare they kill off Marion?). But I gave up on East of Everything after episode 2 and I'm hoping that Underbelly will soon be available from the dvd shop otherwise I'll never see it. As for all those soapie regulars - Neighbours, Home and Away, Macleod's Daughters, Sea Patrol - some I've never seen and some I haven't watched for years and years and years.

I have discovered, however, that it's the fiftieth year of the Logies and they are doing quite a bit of 'memory lane' stuff. This at least means that there are some faces I recognise. And John Clarke is being inducted into the Hall of Fame as I type. A worthy recipient. Hamish and Andy are doing the green room interviews. And Adam Hills has made me smile. But who is Lincoln Lewis?

Once upon a time, I would have known most of the nominees in all the categories, except the ones about sport and maybe current affairs. I wouldn't have missed the Logies anymore than I'd have missed the Oscars and I'd watch it from beginning to end. This would be despite the fact that there wouldn't have been a single Australian actor staring down from my bedroom walls. That space was reserved for the 'teen idol' stars of The Hardy Boys, Eight is Enough and the like. I'd probably have bought TV Week the morning after to look again at the frocks and read the behind-the-scenes stories.

Now, though, I'm old, or older. I've become a serious viewer of the ABC. I don't have time in my hectic life to make the kind of commitment series television requires. I have never watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I saw part episodes of Ugly Betty but couldn't keep up. And not having access to satellite television, I have a sneaking suspicion that the really interesting Australian programming is happening elsewhere.

Still, love them or hate them, the Logies has provided some memorable moments. Will Susie Eleman ever live down the bald head? And who will ever forget Bert Newton calling Mohammed Ali 'nigger'? Even if we only saw it replayed twenty years later.

Sunday Night Television

I fear I'm about to become a Sunday night television junkie. I'm already completely addicted to Robin Hood. Now I think I might be hooked on East of Everything. Did you watch it? What did you think?

Robin Hood is deliciously old-fashioned - even if it does have a much-discussed 'modern sensibility'. But it reminds me of the television I used to watch. Self-contained episodes. Gorgeous boys. A feisty woman (or, in this case, two). This was in the days before the mini-series and reality television. It's the formula that worked for shows like Eight is Enough, Valley of the Giants, The Hardy Boys. Even The Flying Doctors. And then there was Magnum PI. Ah, it takes me back. And let's face it: the men in Robin Hood are all gorgeous. Even the wicked ones.

East of Everything has some similar elements. Good-looking men, for one. A couple of feisty women. Plus it would seem to be well-written and the location is blissfully and beautifully Australian. The first episode wasn't at all creaky. Oh, okay, yes, the plot does seem a bit contrived. I mean, three months to re-open the resort that hasn't had a booking for years? Where will the two brothers find the money for that? But unlike the almost-dreadful Emerald Falls which was on last weekend, East of Everything has a lot of appeal. I'm already intrigued. I do want to know what will happen to Lizzie and Bev in particular. Their stories seem to hint at some originality, even if Art feels like the kind of television character we've met before.

So don't ask me to do anything on a Sunday night for the next few weeks. I have a date with the tv set. It makes such a change from watching the only other highlights of my tv week: The Collectors and Stuff (yes, there is a theme there). Oh, and ABC Kids. I love ABC Kids. Children's television is so much more imaginative than the adult stuff. But don't get me started.