On Saturday we plucked up our courage and took Small Z to visit her Great Uncle, Great Aunty and, because the whole thing is too hard to figure out, her other Aunty as well (with two of her aunts interstate and the other one she never sees, she needs to acquire them where she can!)

I say ‘plucked up courage’ because this is the baby that I no longer do the 45 minute drive into town (i.e. Hampton) with, and our destination was at least a couple of hours away. Yike! For some reason, I always end up in the back being the one that sings and distracts as M crunches up the kilometres. Am not sure how many little ducks went out one day, but it was too bloody many.

We stopped a couple of times and made it, a little late, to the birdladen bushland of Binginwarri. Sorry to appear food-focused, but I am. We had fantastic free range chicken soup and SamSourDough rolls for lunch, while Small Z slept like a proper lamb. My aunt (as opposed to her great aunt - although they are one and the same…this is so confusing) is a bird whisperer, and Small Z was thrilled by the King Parrots, rosellas, shrike thrush, wagtails, yellow breasted robins and many others that danced around outside the kitchen window for her entertainment.

Dinner was a wonder-roast followed by the most sublime dessert I have had in about a year. Something to do with ice-cream, cumquat sauce, polenta and something-I-can’t-remember biscuits with bits of chocolate on top. I very nearly decided to stay forever, or at least follow Sam about begging her to cook more stuff. The crew of the Pelican are on to a good thing!

M, Small Z and I slept in one of the two visitor caravans that were thoughtfully provided (I picked the one with the electric blanket, leaving my father to warm himself unaided). I have to comment that I don’t think I’ve slept on an electric blanket for about a billion years - where were the wires sticking into me? The ‘heating plastic’ kind of smell? I think they have advanced without my knowledge, and I could very easily add them to my “I want a slow cooker and a…” list. Anyway, our night was good! Small Z woke fewer times than she has been at home, and it was SO quiet. Like camping. Just rustles and hoots and the moon.

In the middle of the night, M (who had sipped his way through a bit of ginger wine) swigged in the dark on a bottle that had previously housed grapefruit cordial. He was paralysed by the scent, convinced he was about to die a gurgling, stomach tearing death. It was amusing to listen to in the dark, as he tried to not wake the baby, but panic all the same. I do love caravans. It makes me pine sadly for my little folly, which I can barely look at because I just bit off more than I could chew and I know M is going to have to do some time on it - which I feel guilty about. Huh.

Anyway, in the morning we drank lots of tea, ate more of Sam’s excellent bread and watched the birdlife. M, Dad and Small Z went on a nature ramble, and Sam and I mused through the newspapers and bemoaned our states of employment. It was a very laid back morning - all too easy to forget about the drive home. During lunch, Sam took some pictures of Small Z, who was spreading her love about….

We made it home relatively intact. Small Z can’t seem to get to sleep in the new carseat whatsoever, and we stopped in Korrumburra so M could get her to sleep and then stuff her back in the car while she slumbered. An excellent plan! Once we got home, she was quite excited and I taught her a new trick. She has known that she can roll over, but did not know she could do it repeatedly - she was crazed with excitement and rolled up and down the bed for about fifteen minutes, cackling hysterically.

She reminded me, rather scarily, of Pat Mullins - the woman who was training to roll all the way to the rock. Although, it has to be said, Small Z is younger and far better looking…