Sometimes I wonder if my nephew is really as qualified as he says he is. He says he’s worked for a bunch of highly-qualified and prestigious Melbourne plumbing companies as an apprentice, but I’m starting to realise that could mean anything. Maybe he kept stuffing up and being punted around until nobody else would have him. I mean, he DID go to a TAFE of sorts and get his degree, but I asked him about it once and he said it was MTSC, or the Melbourne Technical Skills College. Now, its reputation has skyrocketed in recent years, but that’s only because it was previously regarded as a rubber stamp college where the lecturers were all frauds and nobody cared that the buildings were falling down.
Ernie is…earnest, I suppose. Whenever I tell him that one of my properties needs some maintenance work, he jumps right to it and gets there in record time. Plus he hasn’t set fire to anything yet, so that’s a plus! Still, a few of my tenants have expressed some…doubts at his efficiency. Ernie said that he hasn’t noticed anything, but he’s such an optimist, I feel actually telling him the scope of the problem would crush him.
Alright, I know full-well that nepotism got me into this mess. I’d do anything for family, including getting them into jobs that might not suit their skillset. Ernie is so sunny and great with people, I feel like he’d be much better suited for a job as a counselor, or…something similar. He loves kids. He just can’t get enough of baking. So why was it plumbing? It’s not even in the family!
So now I have to fire my nephew, which is going to cause some awkwardness when the family Christmas rolls around. I’m sorry it had to come to this, but there are local emergency plumbers in Melbourne who could just do so much better at the jobs. I can’t continue to rely on family for my tenant’s plumbing needs, when their plumbing needs are not being met.
Perhaps I can soften the blow by highlighting Ernie’s actual talents.
Maybe that sofa could be a little bit more to the left. The windowsill is so bare, how have I never noticed?? I need some flowers, even if they’re not real. The next person who owns this place can do what they like, including putting the sofa back to where it was, but it’s crucial that they get a good impression of the place. Selling a home is usually stressful, which is why we got the home styling people in in the first place, but this is something else. That’s what we get for buying a home supposedly haunted by a vengeful spirit.
Oh, it’s ALL just stories. I swear, the people around here in Keymore have the most vivid imaginations and they gossip like it’s 1790 and social media hasn’t yet graced this part of the world. It’s this sort of silly superstition that makes me want to move away and find somewhere a bit more in keeping with the modern world. We can have all the property styling Melbourne has to offer, the place can be made to look like an absolute dream and a family haven for years to come…but that doesn’t stop the neighbours stopping potential buyers in the street (every time! Are they watching from the windows on some kind of rota?) and casually mentioning that seventeen people were killed in this building eight years ago as part of some silly ritual or something. Petty details! What matters is the here and now: the positioning of the furniture, the ample garden space for pets and kids, the ensuite in both the master and guest bedrooms, the new curtains that let in just the right amount of light, the cozy study that can be converted into a bedroom in a flash and the masses of storage space under the stairs.
People don’t need to know that this place was known as ‘The Charnel House of Keymore’. How silly. They don’t need to know that the taps sometimes turn themselves on, or I don’t know…the whispers in the night that promise revenge upon the world for injustice. Oh, and the little raining blood thing that happens in Tamara’s bedroom. Amongst…other things.
Our house staging has been fabulous, though, so we’ll be out of here soon! I really hope…
People say Canberra isn’t fun. And they’re right, mostly.
When you’re a kid you don’t really notice, because kids make their own entertainment, they don’t go out as such and, like…friends and stuff. Then you get to be a teenager like me, and you can’t wait to go to university in Brisbane and just go completely wild because this place is SO BORING. I think just the act of living is putting me into a coma.
There’s just…nothing for teens to do here. There are only so many times you can go to the cinema, and it’s not like the restaurant/night life is happening. Everyone is in bed by 9pm with a cup and tea and the evening newspaper. It was better when I was a few years younger, I remember. One good thing about Canberra: kids birthday party venues, but don’t ask me why. I used to have birthdays in some seriously cool places, for real. Just imagine climbing frames and fake pirate ships and slides, all the stuff that kids really love. Even if it was once a year, I used to look forward to that stuff. And now I’m old and life is boring. I think there might be a nightclub somewhere, but I’m too young for that. Too old for an indoor play centre. Although I don’t know if they have an age limit, so maybe I could go to relive the glory years.
Yeah, they probably DO have a limit. Wouldn’t want a teenager crawling around inside a colourful pipe and making everyone uncomfortable; fair enough. Still, I have to do SOMETHING or I’m going stir crazy. Maybe I could round up the crew from school and make a trip to Melbourne or something. They must be as bored as I am, and we’re not great friends but there’s no better time to get to know each other a bit better. We could reminisce about the time when Canberra’s fine indoor play centres fulfilled all of our hopes and dreams…and then we grew up. Shared grievances, or whatever.