JoKeane Around

Missives from the land of Keane


Posted by keanetwins on August 23, 2014

Dear Internet,

So sorry, it’s been a while etc., all my fault, and so on. Really. I’ve just been at work a lot and somehow once I get there I seem to enjoy finding ways to run around the bowels of a hospital for about fourteen hours looking daft in front of clever people and it just never occurs to me to do anything else like, well, write or (more importantly) study or eat. All day, most days.

….and I can forget about getting anything personal done (beyond an invigorating birdbath and inhaled food) when I get home because THAT is better known as ‘collapse in bed at midnight after getting three children’s lives organised for the next 24 hours’. School lunches for inconveniently disparate fussy eaters are about as much fun at eleven thirty pee em as they sound and also working several weekends in a row does mean having only the elements of food to hand with which to work. Raisin toast counts as a serve of fruit in times of need.

The twins don’t seem to mind, judging by what fails to return, and either they’re throwing it all in the bin or loving preparation and advanced meal planning isn’t as important as I once thought it was and if there is at least reference to a recognised food group before ‘additives’ in the snackie I think that’ll do just dandy.

Anyway, Rosie has fallen asleep on the couch and HALP because what do I do now? She’s been in the bed with me all week and I am really quite fed up with the 3am head in my armpit.


PS. Two weeks of groceries at once seems to add up to about three hundred painful dollars, an overflowing trolley and one very public toddler floor-plant meltdown alternating with the evergreen sprint-off-in-the-supermarket.

Oh my goodness I’ve missed the stinkers.

PSS. Three ground covers in to replace the three that I put in last week that rather rudely died. I don’t have the nerve to take their corpses back to Bunnings for a refund and, besides, what’s a small Bunnings run between friends for BABYCHINO and MAMACHINO and POWER TOOLS and, also, pebbles around feature trees and SOON! added gazebo and arch with bench and maybe a wee birdbath and I think I really need to leave my garden alone before it runs away screaming.

Hold me, before I buy the birdbath. It’s too late for the rest.

PSSS. New super huge washing machine is a mixed blessing. Ten kilograms is a LOT of underwear.

Posted in "Faffing About" | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Protected: Third

Posted by keanetwins on August 12, 2014

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Posted in work | Enter your password to view comments.

Send halp

Posted by keanetwins on August 10, 2014

Dear Internet,

Send halp. At once.

The baby has breached the big bed. She’s SNORING.

Oh gads.


Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »


Posted by keanetwins on August 4, 2014

Dear Internet,

I think we have a developmental milestone of emesis.

Or at least I am pretty sure one gastro afflicted twin may have actually uttered the ominous words ‘My tummy hurts’, walked into the laundry, opened the cupboard, fetched the Big Yellow Bucket used only for one reason, walked back in front of the TV and neatly been sick in the bucket.

I’ve never been so excited over ill health in my life.


Posted in You're Joking? | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Six by two

Posted by keanetwins on July 28, 2014

Dear Internet,

They’re six.

Times two.


They’ve had ice cream, chocolate, toasty, muffin, love, cuddles, presents, happy meals, chips, ice cream cake, caramel mud cake, so much love, ice cream (again), rose cake, hugs, babychino and a zonking great big McDonalds party complete with two ice cream cakes and, really, it’s no bloody wonder they were bouncing around the house at eight thirty pee em, complete with furbies, new shoes, a million barbie dolls and assorted highly desirables for the six year old set (which may possibly have been opened pretty much all of the way from the front of the house to the very back of it) and thank goodness nobody was sick in a quiet corner what will all the food.

I’m still fishing bits of random cardboard out from all over the place.

Seriously, anybody want some lightly used wrapping paper and cardboard?

I can throw in the giant bin liner I’ve captured it all in if it helps and just quietly I am very happy this birthday thing happens no more often than once per year because baking fifty cupcakes after seven nights on and no sleep in thirty hours is about as awful as it sounds.

Except for the bit where the icing and mixture are thoroughly sampled to ensure no toxicity is contained!


Posted in "Faffing About" | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Send Halp

Posted by keanetwins on July 21, 2014

Dear Internet,

On nightshift.

So tired.

Seen everybody with an ovary and some without in at least three postcodes.

Send halp at once. Coffee mysteriously not working.


PS. So. Tired. Oh, so tired.

Posted in work | Tagged: | Leave a Comment »


Posted by keanetwins on July 6, 2014

Dear Internet,

Woe is me and sniff and general misery.

Today I bit the gappy-half-dead-in-patches bullet and started the inevitable ripping up of one back border installed in moderate haste three years ago and wailed over (on the baked and deadish side) every summer since.

I’m sorry, goldfussias, whilst most of you were more than half dead (despite liberal replantings consolidating my mistake), the odd green healthy plant was awfully sad (and guilt inducing) to snap or wrench bodily from the ground.

Also, the leafy corpses could glare at me less accusingly from the overfull greenwaste bin. I feel bad enough already.

Basically, sniff.

Tomorrow the lush green side bites the dust and I feel AWFUL,

Jo (my poor gappy looking garden)

Posted in garden tales, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »


Posted by keanetwins on June 29, 2014

Dear Internet,

What’s better than a full labour ward, a code green, a laparoscopy in a rather large individual where the people on the top end of the bed helpfully enough won’t allow folded arms OR any head down, three gynae admissions AND an instrumental delivery in theatre?


Also, margaritas.

And three little people I miss very much. So very much.

And my garden (seriously, another dozen pavers down today between showers in the twee fairy path across the back lawn, some serious plotting for a gazebo down the end of the grass right when I figure out how to convince somebody to transport it home for me, amazing polished black river pebbles freshly laid over that awkward bit on the side of the driveway that is both too small to bother concreting and too big to ignore and a permanent puddle at this time of year in it’s natural state and, well, about a dozen nandina’s in the front yard along with possibly-don’t-tell an internet order for ninety escallonia plants to replace the blasted gappy back garden border that I apparently planted with the Wrong Thing as one third of it refuses to look anything other than rakish and half-deadish despite fertilizer and the love of a drip system).

You should just see my garden, except you might want to wait until I’ve finished ripping out the old border and about a year for the new one to start looking half decent. Anything to avoid renovating the bathrooms.

Anyway, also, there is study and please don’t tell but I actually quite like writing voluminous notes on anything and everything and I may have in my possession ten full ring binders and about twenty spiral bound sets of dead trees with writings on.

If I run out of things to do (ha!) there is always the futile sport known as catching up on endless washing.



Posted in garden tales, schmirk | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »


Posted by keanetwins on June 21, 2014

Dear Internet,

I HATE croup.

Before Rosie came along, I had of course heard of croup and even kind of learned something about it in medical school. I’d certainly seen plenty of other people’s children barking at triage right around bedtime as their grownups tried to score prednisolone, but the croup itself didn’t evoke any particular kind of emotional response beyond ‘Is there a seal in the department and should I call animal control?’

Rosie gets croup almost invariably as an accompaniment of The Viral Snot. The twins? They keep the germs out of their tracheas, an arrangement I much prefer.

I hate croup. It’s so damn inconvenient the way the poor kid is snotty but not too bad all day but at dusk morphs into a banshee who barks for hours on end and gets all stridorish and even more barking as the endless barking winds her right on up.

That bit is a nice touch, germs,  the whole clever way the breathing thing gets worse with increasing agitation.

I hate croup.

Holding a seriously unhappy snot covered barking toddler in a steaming shower is about as fun as a root canal. In case you wondered.

Next time, instead of buying more pavers for my garden (seriously, I am going for some kind of twee gardening record because the back lawn is in the process of having little people sized fairy paths tip-toed across and along it in visually pleasing configurations and also, laying pavers never ceases to suck massively) I think I might go score the pred.



PS. Yes, I bet she ends up with asthma, too. Goody.

PSS. The poor thing didn’t actually eat dinner- in Rosie terms THAT  is pretty close to the four horsemen winding on up for a light canter in the stratocumulus. The kid is known for her eating. She’s also not known for falling asleep on my lap at seven pe em, but THAT development I will take as a proverbial silver lining.

Posted in "Faffing About" | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments »

No Way

Posted by keanetwins on June 9, 2014

Dear Internet,

I’ve just finished a rather busy week. Unusually enough, for somebody working in obstetrics, I diagnosed the flu in a patient on Saturday (so sorry, infection control, ward managers, infectious disease boffins, pathology staff and assorted persons of anti-bug spread rapidly and hastily deployed, I didn’t plan to make your weekend rough as such).

I’ve been vaccinated myself.

I’m also newly febrile and ever so slightly scratchy feeling.

This better not be the thing that starts in ‘influ’ and ends up in ‘myalgia, wracking coughing fits and invariably too late isolation from non-immune family members’ or I am going to be SO seriously annoyed. With added contact tracing.

No. Nope. Better bloody not be. I am not having with that.


Posted in You're Joking? | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 291 other followers