When one reaches a certain level of affluence, one must keep up to date with certain affairs. I find my monthly draft of a will a tiresome chore, though a necessary one. My assets grow steadily, and thus I must be ready if I make an untimely exit from this mortal coil, and keep my will up to date.
Why just yesterday we added a fourth Jeep to the off-road garage. We used #3 last time we went on safari in the Serengeti, and I wasn’t entirely happy with the gear transition. What would happen if I passed from this life and only three jeeps were mentioned in the will? My local Melbourne executor of will might tear out his hair due to my grievous oversight, and you know how family can be. One small error and they descend like a Biblical plague. Not that I doubt Cecelia’s ability to deal with them like a true Clancey, but I’d rather not have to put her through all the bother. Besides, it would be negligent of me to not update my will periodically. It’s expected.
I do wonder what we’re going to do with Jeep #3. I’ve considered keeping it until Archibald is old enough to learn to drive, at which point it will prove to be an adequate challenge compared to Jeeps with adequate gearsticks. However, can I justify it gathering dust for the years to come? Despite our vast grounds, several houses and near-infinite potential to purchase more land, I was taught to be extremely discerning with my possessions. It’s why I sought out the best estate planning Melbourne had to offer, so I could be assured that my last will as testament is as clear as possible. Wouldn’t want to fringe family vultures descending upon any loopholes. Cecelia would crush them like gnats, but I do so dislike seeing that side of her.
-Percival Clancey IV
There is a stigma attached to cosmetic treatments and it is largely untrue and unfair. I have struggled with my body image for a long time. I am not what you would call a classic beauty, and it causes me fairly regular discomfort and anxiety. I have been to numerous doctors in Melbourne about unhappy feelings and they all have one conclusion. My best bet would be to finally do something about it and get anti wrinkle injections. Melbourne is no stranger to cosmetic treatments so I have my pick of places.
I’ve had a few consultations and chosen the beauty clinic I want to go with. They are professional, experienced and extremely knowledgeable. I’ve seen lots of pictures of their work and even met up with some of the previous patients, they really do excellent work!
I have never had any kind of beauty treatment like this before so I am pretty nervous. Lots of people keep telling me I am crazy to voluntarily get something potentially painful done but I simply tell them if they experienced the feelings I have, they would also search for a solution.
I know two girls I went to college with who have had regular dermal fillers in Melbourne so I contacted them to find out more about how it impacted their lives.
They both commented how it opened up so many new options for them that they never thought would be possible. They also said they can’t put into words how great life is, and they have both found it a major confidence booster. I just cannot imagine a day where I don’t go to bed avoiding the mirrors in my house. I long to feel beautiful and confident. In general my family and friends have been extremely supportive of my decision and are looking forward to not having to listen to me complain all day long about how I look.
It turns out that the blocked drain that ruined my bath was actually symptomatic of a far larger problem. We need to get an entire sewer replacement, Melbourne is actually an older city than I thought and it turns out that our pipes are practically ancient. The plumber had thought that he was coming to do a quick fix of our blocked pipes, but decided to do a full camera plumbing inspection when he could not identify the problem. As it turns out, our entire drainage system is slowly crumbling. This seemed odd to me since our house does not look particularly old, but apparently when it was built, they retained the drainage system of the previous property.
Does it make me a bad parent that I did not realise the state of our clogged pipes until they reached breaking point? I do all the home maintenance. I used to do a lot more myself, but lately I have been realising the virtues of outsourcing to others who know what they are doing. Perhaps if I had not lost my hands-on approach, I would have noticed the blocked plumbing earlier.
Let’s focus on the positives. I need to forgive myself, but remember and do better next time. I am so glad that I did not listen to Pat’s idea to try to unblock the drain myself. Surely he does not expect me to be able to identify and fix our collapsed sewerage system. No, we definitely need to engage the services of some expert drainage contractors in Melbourne. Sewerage systems are not something that I am willing to fix. I have been saying affirmations in order to encourage the work to be completed quickly. Usually, affirmations take awhile to work, but this time they were effective immediately. I have noticed that when I stand outside and chant, the plumbers seem to work a lot faster. I did ask if they wanted to partake in my affirmations, but they all politely declined the offer.
Revelry is not usually my…‘scene’, as it were. If I host a party, it’s usually to do with business partners or simply celebrating an achievement (of business), and thus attending a party for the sake of it being a party is unfamiliar to me. There comes a time, however, when one must simply let one’s hair down, so to speak. Or so I thought. My Father and the owner of the Extreme Expeditions company were good friends in their youth, odd since their business choices didn’t really overlap. I will admit, I spent some time in my childhood on board the Taylor-Thomas yacht, just as they sometimes came aboard mine, and thus when I heard my friend was having a get-together, I thought I’d pay a visit.
I wasn’t fooled for a second. Had Dirk asked, I could have recommended any number of Melbourne outboard motor services, even supplied one of my own. Whatever silly expedition he was on seemed to have done some damage to the family vessel, and so the power was out. Worse, it was not the cocktail affair that I was expecting, which leads me to wonder what I was expecting. I was clearly overdressed, especially compared to some of the scandalous young women with their dresses lingering up to inch above the knee. There were no champagne waiters, the music was obscenely modern and the whole place was lit by candles, as if it were taking place in the jungle.
The outboard motor issue became apparent when I realised we’d been in the harbour for two hours, though at that point I’d been lingering near the stern, alone with the most dignified drink I could find (a lemon and lime bitters, from a bottle). The boat was scuppered, though fortunately I was able to leave early while the revelry increased. I considered calling Dirk in the morning and recommending the finest outboard motor repairs Melbourne had to offer…though if I remember, he’s the type to sleep until noon anyway. We are clearly very different as businessmen. Also, as people.
-Percival Clancey III
Will there ever be a time when the property market isn’t booming? You know, I think not. My business predictions for the coming year are higher than ever, because it seems as if people will always want a roof over their head. Sometimes several, as the case may be.
However, with profits comes a greater amount of uncertainty when knowing where to buy. I was agonizing over where to purchase our third summer home recently, because as a family we’ve been to our Brisbane home far too many times and the villa in France became a problem as Madeira developed travel sickness. No, we needed something local, which forced me to do the unthinkable. I hired a property advocate. Melbourne’s finest, obviously, because I would settle for no less. However, the stresses of the job necessitated me to outsource the finding our own holiday home. I certainly wasn’t about to let Cecelia choose, because while she’s a pretty little thing, she doesn’t quite have the property know-how to make large decisions for the family. No doubt leaving this business to Cecelia would result in a strangely-shaped property with sun-facing windows and fewer than six bathroom, my personal minimum.
I was not disappointed with the advocacy service, however, and in the end I still held the final say. We managed to procure a decent waterfront property with adequate facilities and enough surrounding land that noisy neighbours would not be a problem. To say nothing of the paparazzi constantly wanting the story of my immense success…dear me, just the thought gives me a headache.
Perhaps the next time I am looking into a property around Melbourne, buyers advocates would be an option, should my workload be too immense. And with the property market increasing as it has, what with the common rabble multiplying…it most certainly will be.
They say Polo is the sport of kings. That’s what my history tutor said, anyway, though I have reason to doubt this for many reasons. Reason one: not EVERY king has to have liked the same sport. Maybe there was a very important one back in the day who really liked polo, and people watched him having a splendid time of it and decided ‘you know what, everyone? This has to be the sport of the king, because look how he enjoys it so’. And then that king retired and the next person became king and there was all this pressure on him to like the same thing, because by that time their entire kingdom’s economy was based around polo and for him to put his foot down and say that he was a big fan of hockey would’ve upset everything. People would’ve had to switch to making hockey nets, all the signs around the kingdom entrance would’ve had to have been changed from ‘TRY POLO: THE SPORT OF KINGS!’ to something like ‘HOCKEY: THE SPORT OF THE CURRENT KING!’ and that just doesn’t have the same advertising ring to it.
I’m terribly glad that modern melbourne doesn’t have any sort of sporting elitism, at least none of which I’m aware. All sorts of sports netting is readily encouraged, unless your sports doesn’t involve nets. Though many of them do, I’ve found…I suppose so many of them involve equipment that can go flying off and cause terrible injury, so netting is what allows the spectators to spectate while remaining unharmed.
Archie went through a phase where he wanted to play polo like Daddy does on the weekends, but I think his natural wants won over and now he is terribly inclined towards golf. That’s why we had the driving range installed down near the lake. I watched the golf driving nets go up and thought that was very sensible, otherwise all the balls would end up underwater.
I am still deciding which sport shall be mine. Mother says I must pick one with an air of grace and ladyhood, so perhaps…clay pigeon shooting?
No, darling, you’re going to have to put up with the men around the house a little bit longer.
That’s what I keep telling Cecelia, the silly woman. If she doesn’t like the entire right side of the manor being covered in aluminium platforms, she can move to the left side. Pity me; my favourite of the four studies is on that side, and it’s where I keep most of my filing, so I really don’t have a choice.
Every now and then we need to get some professionals in to make sure the stone menagerie is properly affixed. It’s a VERY specialised service, not something I would entrust to just anyone, so I have to have these people flown in from Turkey. They’re the only ones I trust to do the job properly; Ahmed and Sons, proud fixers of stone structures since the 1400s.
You see, we have a veritable zoo’s worth of stone animals lining the top of the manor, and due to weather being so very fickle in these parts, I have to make extra sure that all of them are firmly fixed in place. We don’t want a repeat of the gargoyle incident, do we? More importantly, there’s a very specific place for every single one of those animals. It would be patently, utterly ridiculous to have one of the horses fall off, thus spoiling the entire effect of the Charge of the Light Brigade monument. And our Noah’s Ark recreation would be the laughing stock of the neighbourhood if a single giraffe was left standing while the other had its head knocked off by wild winds.
Of course, our only point of consternation are all the planks and trestles and folding platform ladders, that have to be put in place. Transporting stonemason equipment to a high rooftop is no gentle matter, I suppose, and it’s not every year I have this done. Hopefully the job is done a bit quicker than usual, and mobile scaffolding carted away. I should like to look upon Whitehall in all its splendour again.
-Percival Clancey III
Since Father owns most of the city, we spend a bit of time outside of it. After all, there’s little else more tiresome than going to a place and seeing all these business people you know. There’s a time for business, and there’s a time for relaxation. Every time we steal a tiny snippet of time to go out as a family, Father ends up seeing some contact, they get into a fierce bit of company rigmarole and we might as well have simply stayed home and ordered a choir to serenade us or something.
After the last time we went out for tiramisu and Albanian hot chocolate, Mother finally said that they needed a local holiday where we weren’t being accosted by the business world. Father let her choose the destination, which was very odd, but we’ve settled on some luxury accommodation in Lorne. Oh, it’s in Victoria- it’s a local holiday, after all- but just far out that we may be able to have a family holiday. Mother has already threatened to take Father’s main business phone and deposit it in the two-storey piranha tank we had installed in lounge #6, and so he seems to be taking the hint.
I must admit, beaches are not the worst of places, provided one takes proper precautions. I could be tempted to leave the aforementioned luxury accommodation and venture out, though not onto a boat…after the previous episode, I have quite gone off them for the time being. Undoubtedly we’ll be taking the family cruise ship down to Lorne, which I can handle. After that, I should very much like to plant my feet firmly on terra firma for the duration of our stay.
Lorne seems like a very agreeable place, from what I have seen. Perhaps one day our influence shall extend there, and Lorne hotels will be under the Clancey Family Empire’s control. Not today, however…if Father even tried, I think Mother would snap completely.
-Archibald Clancey III
Often during the family boat trips I am forced to stay low, where I can fool myself into thinking we are not moving. Madeira does give me such grief for it, however. She can be a little beast when Mother and Father are not looking. Just to set all the records straight, I am perfectly fine when the boat is not moving. It is not the location that causes my queasiness, which I truly wish is something my school chums could understand.
My seventh birthday was the time of my discovery, and it was rather embarrassing. I had asked for a boat- specifically a plate aluminium boat, because even then, I was fascinated by industry- and I received one upon which I would celebrate my ascension to manhood. The school chums were invited, though I made sure I was the first one deck for the big party. I felt like I was the king of my own domain, with my own boat at last (my plate alloy boat) and truly grown up. I ordered a sailing trip around the bay while my party was in progress, so I could show off my kingdom as was my due.
This, I am sorry to say, is where the seasickness set in. Madeira had snuck on board, because she is a terror who never obeyed me even when we were younger. The girl is a menace with no respect for the authority of her older sibling. In any case, she made sure to point out to all my chums that I seemed under the weather, despite my attempts to hide it. I ordered a return to shore, but the damage had been done. Clinging to the fishing rod holder, I barely kept my footing and my image (along with the party) was ruined.
My plate alloy boat, the specs of which once caused in me great excitement, now lies abandoned. Perhaps I should donate it to charity, so that those less fortunate than I can take boat trips. I hear people generally enjoy them.
-Archibald Clancey II
You know, I think I was six years old before I even saw an insect. Mother said that a proper lady didn’t spend much time outdoors, at least much more than was socially required (garden parties and such), and thus I tried to follow that mandate to the letter, spending a lot of time in the parlour learning how to crochet and laugh at the jokes of the menfolk.
Then Imogen came to school one day, her butler porting in an ant farm, and I listened in utter fascination as she described how she was allowed to keep the ants in the upper levels of her quarters at the family mansion and she fed them pellets every day (that is, Antony the butler fed them every day and Imogen was allowed to watch).
Such an ecosystem! After that, I’m afraid I became rather hooked on the unladylike aspiration of finding out more about insects. Surrounding suburbs such as Frankston have pest control, where people actually try to get insects and such things out of their homes. Now, I understand people have phobias and such, but if I was at a loss to see how you could control them. In my mind, pest control was much like brain control; getting to the level of the ants and telling them (nay, asking them, more likely) to leave so that business may resume.
Obviously I was wrong there. The grounds of Whitehall Chapel are extensive, and I used to spend our Sunday family walks trying to find evidence of insect life. Apparently our gardeners are given strict orders by Daddy to remove them from our sight, because I saw very few of them. Now that I am eight, my interest has waned somewhat, mostly because I have been allowed to read about them in my computer lessons and I have found that termites can be rather odious. There are designated Frankston termite control companies to deal with the damage they cause. But still…I should like to be allowed to form my own opinion.