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Friday, 7 November 2003
In between trying to think of the ‘themes’ of my project (am not going to type my topic because then my boss might google it and discover [miaow] which would mean I would instantly detonate) *groan* I have been playing with the ’sketch’ Corel plugin and the photo I took this morning of the State Library.
Birds & Cats
Wednesday, 3 December 2003
And the cat home, looking a bit perkier than it used to.
(Just got my camera working on this computer – as if I don’t have enough distractions.)
Love is in the Air
Tuesday, 13 January 2004
Another engagement!
Congratulations to my lovely friends Jock and Stephanie on becoming engaged!!
I’ll buy you guys a drink when I get down to Melbourne!
Meanwhile, I continue to battle nature with my weapon of choice…the whippersnipper, fuelled on rooster-caused lack of sleep and rivers of perspiration.
Bits of Today
Thursday, 8 April 2004
The view from my desk:
M being stalked by the banana bird (formerly known as the Blue Faced Honeyeater):
The little capsicum that I grew, which ended up in last nights ill-fated salad meal.
Finished Them, The Bastards.
Saturday, 21 August 2004
Yesterday…
Saturday, 28 August 2004
Stumped
Wednesday, 15 September 2004
The Plague
Thursday, 30 September 2004
This is our female guests leg. It and she just returned from a harrowing visit to Fraser Island – where they were assaulted by sandflies. She has had something of an allergic reaction.
Quokka
Tuesday, 12 October 2004
Oh the pinnacle of cuteness. Quokka and baby.
The very well positioned Dome Cafe on Rottnest Island (where the Quokka pic was taken).
I Miss M
Wednesday, 13 October 2004
Good At Research
Wednesday, 13 October 2004
Somebody did it before I did. This is in Redfern. Impressive.
(If you voted Liberal I will hunt you down and KILL YOU…I don’t know where you live but I am very good @ research.)
Photo Friday – Pattern
Friday, 19 November 2004
Photo Friday – Silhouette
Friday, 7 January 2005
Noun: silhouette ’siloo’et
1) An outline of a solid object (as cast by its shadow)
2) A drawing of the outline of an object; filled in with some uniform color
More From the Green Tree Frog
Monday, 10 January 2005
First of all our friend the Green Tree Frog hopped through the dining room.
Then M, saviour and carer of all creatures frog, swooped down with carefully dampened hands and sat frog in a bowl of lovely water; where he stayed for the next few hours. He’s still there, despite M’s carefully constructed a frog faux-habitat that he just put within hopping range.
Update 11/01/05: M couldn’t help himself and moved Frog into his carefully constructed habitat and Frog has been asleep in there all day! We are going to try and catch some flies for him later.
Happy ‘Straya Day
Wednesday, 26 January 2005
Here are some pictures from today…
And from a few days ago, we have Frog – my photographic muse:
Motoring On Beelbi Creek
Friday, 18 February 2005
Today we tried out the new outboard motor. We need to run it in at low speeds, and take it in for a service after ten hours of use. It got a bit too hot in the boat – Oomoo needs a bimini.
Attack of the Alien Pumpkins
Friday, 25 February 2005
One of our friends from Rosebank (I have to say that, as they let us crash their NYE celebrations and then hang around their house for two more days) mentioned that he had cruised out the mall at Alstonville and stumbled on The Plaza Giant Pumpkin Competition. It seems that pumpkins grow more vicious as they get bigger – thus they had to be fenced in, to protect spectators from a seedy demise.
We have vision!!
Friday, 8 April 2005
Dylan and Rachael are our current houseguests and they have just improved my existence by about 150% and blown my tiny mind. They have donated me their MC3 camera (which shoots stills, plays mp3s, and makes movies), a USB 2.0 All In One Card Reader, and a 1gig card!@#$%^&! It’s not great in lowlight, but here I am, gleeful under the loungeroom light five minutes ago. Wacka wacka wahoo!
I have always wanted one of these – so once I sort out some extra webspace, look out! Have camera, will shoot!
Sketch by Dylan
Sunday, 10 April 2005
It Rains
Saturday, 23 April 2005
Our tank is full. Our little creek started flowing this morning.
This is both good and bad. If it hadn’t rained, the tank wouldn’t be full and I would not have been able to do three washing machine loads and six hand washes and rinses. However. If it hadn’t rained, my three bags of clothes that I left in the shed by mistake wouldn’t have got wet and been a whisker away from irretrievable mould – they wouldn’t have NEEDED washing. [sigh] More tomorrow on the Great Dress Disaster of 2005.
The Dress Disaster of 2005
Sunday, 24 April 2005
The other day when M began (began…) working on the Humber, I was trying to help, and retrieved trimming and radio housing from the boot. To do this, I removed the three bags of clothes that I store in there. I sewed the bags from an old op-shop doona cover, having learnt from sad experience that clothes stored in plastic, rot. Ten years worth of dresses and work clothes were safe in these bags. It can be legitimately stated that I have too many dresses. Most of them have not been worn more than twice. However, as I was sorting through them, I counted only three that had been bought new; the rest were secondhand. But still good! So why, why, why did I leave them on the ground in the shed near the boot? It rained like Noah for two days before M found the bags, gently steaming. I did seven lots of hand washing and three machine loads. Naturally, since I hung everything on the clothesline, it has barely stopped long enough between rainstorms for anything to dry. Frocking up in Melbourne is beginning not to be an option!
View From My Room: 01
Saturday, 30 April 2005
A day in pictures
Monday, 2 May 2005
As I went walking
Saturday, 7 May 2005
I saw a big black dog, leaning out the top storey window of a Carlton terrace house, just watching the world wander past – including me.
Breaking, Entering & Boating
Sunday, 8 May 2005
After a nice sleep in this morning, and twenty minutes of impromtu babysitting, I wandered out into the day, thanking god I didn’t drink more than two beers last night. (We began at the Hen’s Night, but crashed the Buck’s later on…). The sky was blue, the sky was sunny; and I headed to Williamstown via the train…
Got to my sister’s place. She hadn’t left the gate open as promised, so I had to acrobat myself (after almost getting my wrist stuck in between the palings, which really would have written off the rest of the day) and scale it. Why is this always happening to me? Once I’d gained entry, I prowled around, looking for my neglected bike, which I haven’t seen for almost two years. I found it in the back shed, it’s front wheel unattached and tyres down 
After fossicking (stop groaning MAP, it’s important, I need a cheap means of transportation), I found some WD40 (all kneel) and a pump. After channelling the part of my genetic make-up that has a bit of my dad’s bike mechanicness, my bicycle was back! Woo! I got so excited that I rode all the way to the Boat.
Sunday Stroll
Wednesday, 15 June 2005
On Sunday I went down to Hampton where I’m going to be living from the 6th of July – over the road from the beach. Such hardship 
We took E’s sister’s 10 month old chocolate labrador Harvey with us, and did a huge walk. It was perfect weather for winter walking. These are the first photos I have taken with my new phone.
Hoo-Ray! Pictures!
Monday, 18 July 2005
Here is my (dad’s) lemon tree
Monday, 25 July 2005
I knew I took this photo for a reason…
I picked a Canon A85
Friday, 29 July 2005
My days sans camera are at an end. After agonising as to whether I should order one from the US and get my mother to schlep it back, I decided that;
1) I couldn’t wait that long,
2) I don’t know how long ‘that long’ is,
and
3) I don’t know IF she would have brought it back…
So yesterday I went out and got the Canon Powershot A85. I was after the A95 – but it was $200 more than I paid with the only differences being one megapixel and no fold-out-and-pivot LCD screen – both of which I can [gulp] live without. On the plus side, it takes AA batteries, which I prefer, and compact flash cards – one of which I already own (thank you D & R).
So last night, when M and I went on a date to the Astor to see Coffee & Cigarettes and Maria Full of Grace, I took my first little movie. We were sitting underneath a speaker…
On Easey Street
Tuesday, 2 August 2005
Sunday Afternoon
Sunday, 11 September 2005
My Housemate – The Pimp
Friday, 16 September 2005
What 1970’s cop show did he escape from?
(I hope that as I’m typing this he has gone upstairs to shave off his creation. This is the kind of thing that can happen when you don’t have to work on a Friday.)
The Soft Furnishing Workroom
Friday, 16 September 2005
Soft Furnishings = Done!
Saturday, 17 September 2005
The trimaran now has all it’s cushions done, custom sewn by M over four days last week. A sterling effort. They love him down at the sewing machine shop, they even gave him a copy of their newsletter. He’s their new pet.
Pictures from Grand Final Day
Saturday, 24 September 2005
The Sea Adventure: The 1st Day
Friday, 30 September 2005
We stayed the night at the home of Hoo-Ray! in South Gippsland and woke bright and shiny to check out the weather forecast. M looked at it dubiously. He was silent during porridge. He was in ‘decision-mode’. The forecast was for about 15 to 20 knot winds, increasing to 25 knots later on. And thus a little bit iffy.
M had provisioned for the trip like Jamie Oliver. He’d taken care of it all, and didn’t want to venture out in weather that would make his newly minted First Mate swim for home. I think he’d had nightmares about me stepping aboard and instantaneously vomiting straight over the side. Gunwale. Whatever.
So it was crunch time. If we were going to launch, we needed to get to the ramp at Newhaven by about 8.30am to get underway. If we left it any later we would be battling the tide, which would be concentrating on sucking us out into the unfriendly waters of Bass Strait.
“Right B,” said M, “I don’t think we’ll go. It will be too rough. We’ll just have to bash our way through. It’d be wet, and in no way a relaxing sail.”
I looked moodily at my porridge. My father wisely stayed silent.
“I don’t care if we have to bash our way. I want to go today. I’m not a princess. I can handle waves.”
M shook his head and cautioned me again.
“B, it won’t be much fun. We can just hang around today and go tomorrow instead.”
I shook my head. No.
And so it was that we turned up, after a forty minute drive, at the Newhaven boat ramp, which is right next to the Newhaven Yacht Squadron, and it’s very sexy yacht basin. I then assumed that we could back Hoo-Ray! down the ramp, into the water, and set off. But no. It was all going on with the rigging and the getting the mast up and the shackling of forestays and finding the jib. It seemed to me to take an interminable time. And the shackles. Who would have invented such a thing? What could be worse than with ice cold hands on rolling waves, trying to put a shackle on a stay or take one off?
A shackle is a bit of metal shaped like a ‘U’ with a pin that screws across, kind of like a screw on earring. Here’s what one looks like. Beyond fiddly. I can barely admit it, but even while M and I were rigging Hoo-Ray!, the boat was bouncing around on the trailer suspension and made me feel a little bit ill. However, I did not tell a soul.
Anyway, finally we got Hoo-Ray! sorted out. She slipped off the trailer (after some vein-popping pushing) and into the water. We tethered her to the jetty and dad and M went to speak to the people at the shop where we were going to leave the van and trailer locked up for the next three days. I was Master of the Boat. I tried sticking my head down below where we were to sleep. Instant quease. I tried a few more times, with the same result. I settled this by staying in the cockpit with my eyes fixed firmly on land.
Once they returned, M then had to spend what seemed an age setting up the mainsail and more rigging stuff. My dad stood on the jetty, holding the boat steady with the patience of a cow. Finally we were ready to actually leave. Go. Sail away. Vamoose! We sailed away from the jetty, waving to my dad, and M took the reef out of the sail, as we didn’t seem to be moving very fast. That only lasted for about ten minutes. Then the wind decided to visit. Big time.
Very soon there seemed to be an increasing number of Large Waves, and the wind was getting towards about 30 knots*. M felt that he may have removed the reef in the sail somewhat prematurely. So, as I took the tiller, he wrestled with the mainsail. As I hadn’t yet learnt the art of navigating the boat gently over waves, Hoo-Ray! and M both took a bit of a bashing. We furled the jib (all hail the invention of the furler) and were generally basted in brine. The direction in which we needed to head was directly into the wind… er… malestrom. The waves were very close together and about six feet high. Think of very big, liquid green corrugated tin.
Our aim was to go Rhyll for lunch and then to continue on our adventure by sailing across to French Island, and tucking under Tortoise Head for the night in the deep water that ran along the beach. However, the weather thought otherwise. After about forty minutes of seafaring battle, we fired up the outboard and began motor sailing. About four or five times M had to go to the front of the boat to tie something down or fix something that had snapped. I steered mutinously onward. Drenched and desperate to wee.
Rhyll materialised like some kind of wondrous figment. We aimed for the jetty at which M and my dad had tied up a month before. Bits of it were there, but the rest of it had sunk. It was quite perplexing. Then we aimed Hoo-Ray! at a far more rewarding structure. The public toilets. We pulled up on to the beach (after raising the rudder, the motor and the centreboard) and M and I jumped ashore.
“We did it!” M danced at me. “We made it to Rhyll!”
“I’m so glad!” I shouted into the widening gap between us. “I can’t talk anymore, I’m concentrating on bladder control.”
I loped in bladder controlling leaps to the public toilets and weed like the world’s most thirsty camel. It was heaven.
By the time I made it back to M, I was capable of conversation. M, in an indication of what life was going to be like for the next few days, made a sandwichy sensation of buttered bread, pesto, cheese and cherry tomatos. And a cup of Earl Grey tea. We licked our wounds and felt vastly improved.
I decided to stay with Hoo-Ray! while M went to have a look around. We were anchored so near the beach, that the boat was relatively steady. I curled up underneath in my sleeping bag and read a bit, snoozed a bit, and read a bit more until M came back and began ‘doing things’ on deck. Whatever he was doing seemed to involve a lot of walking about, and each time he moved, the boat bobbed in response. As did my stomach. The quease returned.
As it was a Friday, M reported that most of Rhyll’s five or six shops were open, and that he had found a lovely place for a drink… and maybe dinner. The thought of dinner did not excite me, but I had vague feeling that a stubby of Stella Artois might banish my sickness. We secured the valiant Hoo-Ray! and took a walk up the hill. The more I saw of Rhyll the prettier it seemed to get! We decided to be extravagant and eat at the fancy place. My thoughts about the Stella were correct. They had a lovely woodfire. The owner came and chatted to us and we told him we’d just sailed in, feeling slightly smug.
The menu was absolutely amazing, the prices were ridiculous and the food didn’t measure up to either. But it was nice to be out after our battle with the sea. We left at about 8pm to go back to Hoo-Ray! where we put on our slippers and settled in. After we’d lain there for about three hours, M groaned.
“I can’t take it anymore. I haven’t been able to get to sleep. That bit of the broken jetty keeps hitting the pole and keeping me awake.”
And so, if you had been there, you would have seen us at about midnight, motoring with great trepidation, to the other side of the little harbour. I stood on the bow with our Dolphin torch lighting our path and praying, while M steered valiantly through the night air. We found a spot. Checked that the anchor wasn’t dragging. And snuggled down again, this time for the rest of the night.
*What is a knot? A knot is the seagoing equivalent of a kilometre. It’s how you measure wind and distance on the water. However – one knot is equal to 1.8 kilometres. The odd thing is that as the wind blows stronger the power of the wind gets ridicuously stronger. Quite simply, you square the wind speed to get the power of the wind. Which is why 30 knots blows off your socks and twenty’s nearly plenty.
The Sea Adventure: The 2nd Day
Saturday, 1 October 2005
After our midnight adventures it was exciting to wake up in a part of the harbour that we hadn’t seen before (because we arrived in the dark). It was gorgeous. The houses of Rhyll surrounded the little sheltered bay, and there were big green hills a little further around, away from the township. M made cups of tea and his breakfast wonder dish ‘Egg in a Hole’. If you have not experienced Egg in a Hole, you should. It’s particularly good when camping.
How to make ‘Egg in a Hole’
Get a bit of bread. Bite a hole in the middle of it. Eat the bit you bit. Put bread in frypan with some butter, garlic (if you’re that way inclined), and some salt and pepper. Put ‘egg in hole’. Fry both sides. Stick it on a plate. Eat it.
——————–
With breakfast done and dusted, I washed up in the bucket. (Not the one reserved for wee.) M chatted to a few passers by on the shore, and then we set off for French Island. I hadn’t realised quite how protected we had been in Rhyll. As soon as we got a fair way from land we where again hit by the Mega Wind. I’d texted my dad to ask him to text me through the latest forecast for Westernport Bay. Naturally 15 to 20 knot forecast we had read online just the day before had disappeared into the ether, only to be replaced by 25 to 30 knot winds – strong wind warning. Perfect. Not.
Again we reefed the mainsail (i.e. didn’t have the entire sail up, just most of it) and after a while decided to again rely on the motor as our destination was exactly where the wind was coming from. We had to tack to get there, which was going to take us a ridiculously long time in such strong winds. Of course M had to do battle with bits and pieces again. Throughout our trip there were only two things he did that drove me crazy. One was telling me to steer for ‘that tree over there’.
“Which tree?”
He would point, as the boat flailed from wave to wave, at what looked to me like a whole plantation of trees in the distance.
“That one!”
“Um. Ok.”
Whereupon I would just try and continue in the direction that we were already going, but would inevitably, in my efforts to ease us through the waves, fall off course until the boat, going sideways into the tumult, would encounter several large waves. The waves would fall on M, who would continue with whatever thing he was trying to fix while managing to point me back in the direction of his ‘tree’.
The other thing that disturbed me (although it shouldn’t, as he replicates his actions on dry land with doors) was his inability to remember to close the hatch. The hatch! The only thing keeping all our food and sleeping bags dry. As I do on solid ground, I would just close it myself every ten minutes or so, but because I kept losing track of the tree, it became imperative to keep the hatch shut. At one point I looked up, saw it open again, closed it, and one second later it was submerged under a big dumping of green water. M and I looked at each other with Tweety-Bird eyes.
It was a tewwible stworm. The bowt wocked and wocked…
The wind was going nuts, although the waves weren’t quite as big as the previous day.
“Don’t worry,” M kept shouting reassuringly, “Once we get close to French Island, it will be all sheltered. It will be much calmer!”
I, salt chafed, squinted toward the shore. It really didn’t look any calmer there. We motor sailed onwards, M and I both singing that Rolf Harris song in tune with the engine…
Sun-a-rise, he come in the morning
Sun-a-rise, he come with the dawning
Spreading all the light all around…
(…at that point we would do didgeridoo noises, which complemented the tone of the motor quite well.)
It took us what seemed like a couple of hours to reach French Island. The wind completely disregarded our wishes and blew even harder. Thankfully the waves got smaller as we got close to land. We nosed our way along the beach. Anchored. Too windy. Pulled up anchor. Moved along a bit. Anchored. Too near the remnants of an old jetty. Pulled up anchor. Moved right into the beach. And anchored again. We had found a ‘good spot’. Windy but ‘offshore’ so no waves at all.
“Once the tide goes out, we’ll be up on the sand you know,” said M, ever knowledgable about the whens and wheres of the tide.
“Will the boat flop on to it’s side?”
“Probably not.”
“Then it doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, as long as the tide is high when we want to get going.”
And with those words I tempted fate. But more on that later. M went for an exploratory wander and I stretched out on the boat in the sun, while trying to stay out of the wind. It got quite hot. We drank a cheerful glass of red wine each (yes – from a glass – we are so styley) and decided to go on a Walk.
I wanted to go and coo at the lambs that were sharing a paddock with older sheep and some cows. Of course once I got too near the fence, they all scattered. I was, again, happy that I gave up eating them. Less guilt. Our walk continued. I was looking for treasure. I found two tennis balls – only needed one more for M to be able to juggle. It was only five minutes until I found the necessary third ball, and M obliged me be juggling jubilantly. We found two more tennis balls after that.
The shores of French Island (or the part that we were on) were odd. It seemed as if there might have been a forest right down to the water, because the sand was full of little dead tree trunks. And areas of the sand that looked like rock, were actually some kind of rock-looking squishy bouncy stuff. It was strange. Maybe chicory comes from trees…
[Minor tangent: I just googled and it appears that 'The island's mangroves were burned in the 1840s for reduction to barilla, a plant ash rich in soda and potassium which was used in the production of glass and soap. However, heavy rains washed away most of the ash and the endeavour was abandoned.' ]
OK. Glad I sorted that out. Here are some pictures from our walk.
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It was quite hot, although still fairly windy, but by the time we made it back to the boat everything had slackened off. I went back to my book, while M went on a solitary jaunt toward Tortoise Head. But not before some tea.
It began to get dark. And this is where I come back to my marvellous idea of mooring the boat high and dry. Because as the dusk set in, so did the MOSQUITOS. Not normal small urban mosquitos, but large, swamplike creatures that had been waiting ten years for flesh. Not hordes, just a small, SAS-like battalion. They were ruthless and determined. I dressed myself so that the only things touching the air were my hands and face. I ran up and down the boat in a kind of perpetual motion. We had no insect repellant. I cursed the lack of Bushman. I stood looking down at a nearby little rock, willing the tide to give me some indication it was coming in. Never had a tide taken so long.
All I had with me that I thought mosquitos woundn’t like was some lavender oil. So I lit our little candle lantern, dabbed oil on the top and huddled over the fumes. I became miraculously mosquito free! We then basted M and the boat in lavender oil, so much so that if anyone had stumbled upon us, we would have been mistaken for feral aromatherapists. And still we waited. It was like watching a kettle boil. M tried to haul us out using the anchor, but the boat would not budge. So we both went for a dusky walk toward Tortoise Head. Keeping a nervous glance up our sleeve for the nearly floating boat.
OK, by now it’s dark. M had taken a compass bearing on the far side of the deepwater channel that began about five metres out. We aimed, when we finally floated free, to anchor in the channel so that we wouldn’t wake up high and dry all over again. FINALLY the tide came in enough for Hoo-Ray! to float. We each grabbed a plastic oar and paddled. Paddled hard. M kept and eye on the GPS and after 100 meters dropped the anchor over the side. The anchor rope played out a long way, which seemed to indicate that we’d been successful.
Further away from the beach it was a trifle more breezy and the mosquitos dissapated quickly. Such relief. M cooked up some pasta and added in the pesto he had made before we set out. With the addition of cherry tomatos, it was the most divine dinner of our sailing adventure, and blew the restaurant meal of the night before out of the water. We drank some red, ate some tim-tams and went to bed, hoping we would still be afloat in the morning.
We were…
Return & Recovery
Tuesday, 4 October 2005
Returned yesterday afternoon. I was instantly struck by sore throat bug. Today that morphed into… well, I am reluctant to say flu, but let’s just say a ‘fluey thing’. Gah. Shivery, headachey, nauseousy. Horror. Am trying to update [miaow] with the exciting story of our Grand Seafaring Adventure, but it’s going to take me a little while. It will appear further down the page from this entry – you have been warned. Now I will go and expire a bit more.
Here’s where I was a few nights ago.
In the garden by the broccoli
Monday, 17 October 2005
Now I am off to move the boat trailer on my own so I can get Small Brother’s car out. I would have asked M to help me this morning, but he had hit his head on the van and couldn’t find the stove lighter – so it was best just to pet him gently and let him go. Wish me luck!
Cat me out of here!
Saturday, 22 October 2005
Sunday Driving
Sunday, 20 November 2005
We Love This Cartoon
Tuesday, 22 November 2005
From an article in the Age entitled Labor Surges While IR Fury Bites…
It’s Up! – A Christmas Tree Meme
Monday, 5 December 2005
D and E brought home a tree last night. Much rejoicing! We don’t have much in the way of pretty lights or decorations yet, but we’re working on it. Oh god. I just had a flashback to making paper chains and popcorn strings. What else lurks forgotten in my brain? The lyrics of Madonna’s 1980s back catalogue? Eeeek!
Stick a picture of your tree online and post the link in the comments. This might be the start of a Christmas Tree Meme! (…or not, as the case may be.) Of course, we’re probably pretty early. But as none of us have had a proper sized tree since moving out of home, we don’t care. Deck the malls with plastic holly!
Meredith 2005 – Pictures
Monday, 12 December 2005
An Absence of Pictures
Saturday, 24 December 2005
There is a rather large gaping hole where pictures of M’s pride and joy should be. Unfortunately the camera got left on the boat, and, as the only way to get to and from the boat at the moment is on a very tippy surfski and someone (M) keeps forgetting the waterproof bag – the camera remains on the boat.
Last night we attempted to have our first boat picnic with E and DJ, who were very keen to get aboard. Welcome to weather dependency. E made a gorgeous picnic. M paddled out. E and DJ drove to pick me up from Newport train station. Suddenly, we were in Kansas. The weather went psycho. DJ actually works at the BoM and had told us on good authority that this was not supposed to happen until about 11pm at night.
It was impossible to get out to Boat, and thus we picnicked in the park instead, which was almost as good. We toasted Boat and Christmas with champagne and lay on the grass. The boat visit was postponed for another, more amenable day. We spent an anxious night listening to wind howl and thunder boom, wondering whether Boat was tethered properly or was chafing through the mooring rope and poised for flight…
Boxing Day
Monday, 26 December 2005
After a large lunch at my mum’s place, M and I scooted down to Williamstown in the van, and met up with Chris. We went for a jaunt down the Yarra River – which is not something we’ll be able to do (for a while, anyway) once we’ve got the mast on.
Sailing Holiday – Day 03 – by M
Friday, 6 January 2006
Big chilly swims in morning. E goes in nude and can’t get back onboard. Much hilarity. A clifftop Portsea person raises the Australian flag. E and B serenade them with the national anthem in cat voices. Fully reef sails as forecast is for 25 knots and am not sure how things will be with 4 onboard. Turns out that E and Dave are naturals and are a hoot to have onboard.
Go out to smell the seals again. Then up along coast the Heads. Across to Queenscliff and back to our own little trimaran shaped nook. About 20nm in total. This time its low tide so we set about getting all the rocks out of the way so we can sit on the sand next to the park. Long walks in town and all meet at pub. As you do.
Sailing Holiday – Day 04 – by M
Saturday, 7 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
A south easterly breeze at 20knots. Lazy lovely sail around spy island (the ASIS base) then along beaches and coast downwind to Port Arlington. Ran aground… as i like to noodle right next to the shore (and I wasn’t paying attention). Rudder a bit sad. Nevermind. Get to Port Arlington and the promise of fresh mussels. Drop anchor off the beach.
It’s a good spot. Wind offshore. Snorkle and jump off the pier for a while.
Big walk around town and up hill. Drinks at a cool bar. Buy 3 kilo of mussles off a boat and cook em up with some white wine. The ‘slurp for the cook, slurp for the pot’, recipe. Good sleep.
Sailing Holiday – Day 05 – by M
Sunday, 8 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
More south easterly winds at 20 knots. Tacked all the way back to Portsea. Back at Portsea pub and we blow a bomb on a yuck seafood thing. An extravaganza of batter, good scallops and dodgy prawns. The brown feast. The guys leave mid arvo. B and I decided to go to Westernport the next day. We stay the night at anchor in Portsea (near the exit to Bass Strait) even though we know there is an onshore blow going to hit that night. What a yuck night. Some sort of NASA sensory training hell. Got both anchors down and hung on. B went green, but managed to cook a curry without indulging in any hurling. A night of little sleep. It’s hard to wee when you can’t get your balance.
Sailing Holiday – Day 06 – by M
Monday, 9 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
Our first north easterly. 10 to 15 knots. Left for the heads at 7am. Aiming for high tide on the rip bank. Still 2 hours of flood. Swirls and eddies were huge and scary. A big SW swell was running. Also a SE swell. However the combination of the high tide and flood stream make it tame.
We did around 6 knots all the way to Westernport. Wind left us for an hour and we motored. B slept. Boom of swell crashing onto beaches and headlands. Went close to Cape Shanck. Past Bushranger’s Bay. Wild being out there. Felt like we could tackle anything. I keep looking across the blue swells, out to sea and an endless horizon. Dolphins hung around and swam with us.
Wind drops out at entrance to Westernport motor up to Cowes. Drop anchor on the beach. Do washing. Meet Ray! (Father of B, loitering on the beach with camera. Highly suspicious.) Hot. Sail off to Rhyll. Nice sail. Anchor in front of the overpriced pub. Ignore pub and hit the fish and chip shop next door. Flathead tails and chips for dinner. Great sleep.
Sailing Holiday – Day 07 – by M
Tuesday, 10 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
Breakfast aboard. Meet Ray at Newhaven at 1.30pm. Low tide. Sailed off to Tortoise Head. A fast hoot of a sail. Boat whizzes along. B stays below, sleeping and reading Chandler.
Anchor up close to shore. Close-ish. Ray and I stroll up the headland. Wild beach wild views. We were going to stay the night but decide to tack our way back to the conservation park between Ryhll and Cowes. Sail off toward Sandy Cape then into a beautiful quiet lagoon near Rhyll. Rains all night. Curry. Snug. Fun with Ray hanging around. Wine and beer.
Sailing Holiday – Day 08 – by M
Wednesday, 11 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
Back to Rhyll. But not before an exploration of the lagoon, which turns out to be horseshoe shaped.
Ray shouts us organic scrambled eggs for breakfast! [Awesome chai latte - Ed.]Sail up Settlement Point at the eastern side of French Isalnd. Surprised at how lovely and wild the area looks. Will have to come back. A fast sail to Newhaven. Ray steers a lot of the way. He is a good sailor and seems to enjoy getting amongst the rough stuff. A couple of days of really fast sailing. Drop him off at Newhaven at 330pm dead low tide. Hit pier… wah. More repairs for when we get home. Sail back to Rhyll. Go for long walk. Visit the general store. We have flathead tails and potato cakes again. Yum! Have to wait for tide around at front beach. Then scoot to the side beach in front of the pub. We tie up in such a way as to be able to pull ourselves up to the sand. Very nice. Good sleep.
Sailing Holiday – Day 09 – by M
Thursday, 12 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
A long walk up the hill at Rhyll and across in front of the lagoon. Unusual nature trail. We vow to return. Back via general store and coffee in café. Goodbye Rhyll. Set out toward Cowes. Quiet easy sailing. Lovely day. Didn’t know where to stop at Cowes as we wanted to explore and try to get some navigation light bulbs. Ended up anchoring off the sailing club beach south of the town. An F 28 was in the club grounds. Outer Limits. Wah. We walked around town. Went to op shops and had a coffee. Went to hardware shops for the bulbs. No luck. Bought new sunglasses and op-shop shorts. B got a good deal on a bikini.
Back to boat mid arvo. It’s stuck. We push and push. No one helps. I winch us along the anchor line, which loosens us a bit. After about 25 minutes, we float free. We decide to scoot over to Flinders to save ourselves travelling time to the heads in the morning. Hopefully it has shelter for a south wind. I punt that it does. We set off up the channel. It is open to Bass Strait and the wind kicks in. Tide is against the wind and soon waves get to around 2mtrs – stacked close and messy. I power up the boat and she slices and flys thru but it is a wild ride. Poor B gets a tad pale. I head off track and beat up toward the straight inside Cat Bay. I have surfed Flynns Reef inside the bay a few times. So I knew it. It is way calmer. One last rough ride across the entrance to Westernport and we arrive. Flinders is calm and totally beautiful.
We anchor off the beach and step ashore in 12inches of water. A big wander through town and coffee. B still green. Back at the boat at sunset we cooked up a tuna tomato thingo. I set up all the pilotage needed for a boisterous return to Port Phillip Bay. A night start. Sectores to turn by. Dawn by Cape Shanck. Etc. I put a a bunch of waypoints in the GPS as back up. I won’t rely on a GPS ever. But if it’s not broken and hasn’t been dropped overboard then it is good to double check my pilotage.
Sailing Holiday – Day 11 – by M
Saturday, 14 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
Boat a shambles. Go off to breaky, coffee, op shops and an art show… as you do. Got back just as Chris and Jodie get into town. A wild clean of the boat and here they are.
A trip into town via car to get mossie coils and some beer/ice. Then out through the mythical cut and into a sunny 15knot south wind. Hello Popes Eye, hello albatross colony and hello seal colony. Phew. Jodie goes into shut down as she doesn’t get the boat thing at all.
I tack us across to Portsea and we step off onto the beach and scurry up to pub to have medicine. Beer and chips. Jodie comes to life. A nice and cruisey sail up the heads along the national park where we see some lazy dolphins, and then downwind back to Queenscliff. Jodie chatting and having a hoot untill she trips into the cabin and bangs her poor head. Ouch.
Back in our nook and she retreats to the car to chill. I hand her a wine an hour later and the party begins. B and I had run out of cruising funds and out of cooking gas so we tweak all our guest’s nibblies and conjur a surpring array of tasty bits. Add beer and awesome wine and we call it a dinner. We chat and laught for a few hours then bed.
Sailing Holiday – Day 12 – by M
Sunday, 15 January 2006
(The following is written by my secret guest writer, only to be known as ‘M’.)
Had to say see ya to the girls as we had a 30th birthday to get to mid arvo in Melbourne. A 5 hour downwind sail. B reads books. I dream. The waves got bigger close to the city and the tri went into surfing mode. B hooted. Wind got up to 15/20knots and we decided to reach across for a while even tho it would make us late. The boat flew along a 12 knots steady. The pop top was up and spray was getting in but we couldn’t stop. It is addictive to go fast! End of trip mid arvo. Boat on mooring and us bundled into a car by B’s parents and the Grassy Noel.
We survive. Boat performs as I had hoped. Top speeds are a hoot to sit near. Nothing breaks. We didn’t throw up… what more could you want?
First day of school – ever!
Wednesday, 1 February 2006
This is our lovely friend Claudia all frocked up for her first day at primary school. Suddenly she looks so much older, even though she’s still only five. Am loving those pigtails.
It doesn’t seem so long ago that she was almost one whole year younger and had just caught a fish that was almost as big as her own head. She named it ‘HeadChoppedOffEaten’ and M fried it up for her delectation.
Congratulations Small C! Keep dancing to the Ramones – although rock, rock, rock, rock, rock’n'roll PRIMARY school doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, I’m sure you can make it happen.
The lease is signed…eeek!
Tuesday, 30 May 2006
The towbar of adventure…
There are a few more pictures of the Pit Pony and the Ostrich over on Flickr…
Posers!
Thursday, 22 June 2006
And before breakfast I…
Friday, 30 June 2006
Decided to do a different kind of work out. We collected a trailerload of firewood a few days ago, and M chainsawed it into fire-sized bits. I decided to stack it…
…and it was pretty much as good as having a personal trainer!
Soggy Sunday
Sunday, 9 July 2006
Another dreary weather day. We all noodled around and then went to Point Leo beach via the Bittern market (which has too much new stuff and not enough junk IMHO).
Sunday Rainstorming
Monday, 24 July 2006
Cold mornings and sunset nights…
Tuesday, 8 August 2006
It was so cold this morning that I was awed. Awed until it thawed! Icy.
The evening cranked out a sunset that made up for the chill…
Saturday. No shed work today.
Saturday, 12 August 2006
The weather was intermittently gorgeous. We returned a car and a trailer to Loch, making the trailer (the one that we live in) surrounds look a bit less like a secondhand dealership. I removed my lcd screen from dad’s computer and replaced it with his antiquated 14″ CRT [groan]. That computer knows me. It senses when I am near. As soon as I swapped monitors it ceased to recognise it’s hard drive. I breathed in deeply through my nose, counting slowly in many dialects.
Had lunch. And fortified by red wine, I took the case off for the bazillionth time, poked everything hard, and voila! It deigned to boot up. How kind. I’m never touching it again. Our relationship is one of mutual loathing. Pinched some firewood, and debated on borrowing my sister’s car, having just returned Small Brother’s hot rod. Why? Because the Humber needs some tweaking. M and I decided to ponder over the manual and see if we could put it to rights.
We noodled home in the late afternoon sun, kept driving past our driveway and continued down to Warneet…
I, strangely, forgot how pretty things can be at the end of the road that we live on.
A Yak with a view
Sunday, 3 September 2006
We encountered this woolly thing on today’s Sunday drive. We took in Corinella [bleugh], Tenby Point [interesting], San Remo [good for pulling in on the boat] and Rhyll [love it]. It was the first time we’d visited Rhyll by car instead of sail.
A weekend of birthdays
Monday, 18 September 2006
It feels like we haven’t stopped since the day we flew to Queensland about ten days ago. We left the house on Saturday morning to go to our friend Jack’s fifth birthday.
The day began with what seem like masses of four and five year olds refusing to partipate in musical chairs,
“It’s like herding cats,” sighed father of Jack.
The day ended after a grand BBQ dinner with a screening of Napolean Dynamite, which was largely hysterical. We followed it up with the Comic Relief episode of Little Britain, and went to sleep feeling full. Oh the sleeping! The wonders of a foam mattress that boasts some actual density! I spent at least ten minutes lying awake wondering why I couldn’t feel my hip driving into the floor the way it does when we sleep on our mattress in the van. Three words. Dense. Foam. Rubber. Three more words. Buy. One. NOW.
After a lovely sleep, we headed off to midday strawberry daquiris at Al’s 18th birthday party – where people bashed pinyada’s, and in the 15 hours that the party went for, blew the stereo speakers and drained a keg. There was mad dancing and one requisite spectacular spew. Bed at 3am and awake at 9am to help eat the fablous breakfast that was concocted as if by magic.
We limped home to trailer oasis in the mid afternoon. M had a lot more energy than me and went off to shedland to do some boat building. I languished on the couch with a book. I can hardly bear to think about going to work in the morning. Ack.
Buy me a ring
Wednesday, 27 September 2006
Today’s score from the op-shop was this ring that actually fits on my most fattest finger in the world. I don’t think it was always so fat, but years of netball around the age of 12 took care of that for me. After having a lovely catch up lunch with E today, we hit the op-shop, which is where I left her, happily sifting through odds and sods.
Lang Lang Op Shop. Watch out!
Saturday, 14 October 2006
This is a sign from the Lang Lang Op-Shop (photo is dodgy because my phone is dodgy – hurry up and send me new phone Small Brother!). It reads:
Tampering and removing goods left at front door for Op Shop use is Un Australian and Not in the Spirit of the community. Grrrr! Forget about flag burning, op-shop pilfering is the new ‘children overboard’. Have I just given Johnny another election angle?
Little Birdy
Wednesday, 1 November 2006
When we arrived at Faye’s house in Hervey Bay a week or so back there were two little hatchlings in a hanging pot plant on her back porch. They were fed in shifts by the parent birds, one of whom would sit on them to keep them warm each night. I got a great little movie file of the parent birds that I’ll put up when I’m not at work, but in the meantime, this is a picture of a little one…
Post-It notes come in handy…
Thursday, 9 November 2006
When there’s little things you think you’ll forget… like this.
Glowy Friday Afternoon
Friday, 10 November 2006
This is what happens when you can’t be bothered finding your digital camera because it takes too long to hook up, and then you spend way too much time playing with PhotoBooth on the macbook. And the ‘glow’ filter. And I hadn’t even started the G&T.
Bushfire sunset
Friday, 8 December 2006
This is the sunset tonight – all smeared up with bushfire smoke. Tomorrow is going to be a bad bushfire day. Matilda the Horse was quite interested in my camera.
A smoky morning
Saturday, 9 December 2006
It’s heating up. As someone who works for a bushfirey organisation I feel rather impotent. Here is a good place to see what’s burning. Have just been receiving texts from someone who is at Meredith Music Festival where we were this time last year. I am thinking it’s probably Kartar with a new mobile number that my phone doesn’t recognise.
I’m not too sorry that we’re not there this year – it’s too hot for me, and I’d probably either get grumpy or pass out from too many cold beverages. I’m happy to save up for the Pixies!! My finger was poised on the button to buy two tickets to the V Festival on the Gold Coast yesterday, as we’ll be only two hours away from it when it happens. Am still musing.
New Year’s Eve 2006
Sunday, 31 December 2006
It began under a mosquito screened umbrella out the back. All class.
The morning after…
Monday, 1 January 2007
It began with a laden table and a couple of welcome blow-ins. It ended at 4am with people taking photos of their nostrils.
And very early on, the keg was drained. We estimated that it had contained about 102 pints.
There was general surprise that the hangovers weren’t more severe. Opinions of “How many charades can we fit into the last ten minutes of the year?” were mixed and thankfully blurry.
Birdhouse in your soul…
Thursday, 1 March 2007
Not to put too fine a point on it,
Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet,
Make a little birdhouse in your soul…
(And while you’re at it,
Keep the nightlight on inside the birdhouse in your soul…)
These are what we were making on that hot day before Christmas last year. And if you want to read all the lyrics of that most excellent song by TMBG, then just look below.
My Little Pony
Monday, 5 March 2007
Our landlord has been away on a caravanning holiday for the last ten days, and during that time I have been the guardian of Blossom the Horse!! I love feeding Blossom – big scoops of oats, barley, some hay looking stuff – and I pat her as she muses over it. But tonight our landlord came back [gulp]. I think I’m going to pretend I didn’t notice.
Rockwiz – some pix (thanks Margie!)
Monday, 16 April 2007
The elimination rounds.
Yes. That is actually cute Dugald – the scorecard holder – to my left.
The finale – lots of lights!
Jake!
Friday, 20 April 2007
The tide tonight is SO high that water from Cannons Creek is visible from the trailer, like a silver snake sliding through the paddock.
Qoop!
Monday, 23 April 2007
I have no time. And there is a lot of stuff on this page that needs fixing – my little picture over on the left has gone, and I know not where. However, I barely have time to scratch myself – so it will have to languish in the ether as I try and make it through the week. What has this to do with Qoop? not much, except that it’s a kind of cool thing (I’m hoping) that I used for the first time today.
It’s affiliated (kind of) with Flickr and enables you to print your photographs on calendars, posters, photobooks, mugs etc. etc. Of course, this is completely useless to Australians, unless, like me, 50% of yer rellies are in the US. Then it Becomes Handy. Particularly as it’s my Nan’s birthday on 29 April and I only just pulled my finger out. I sent her a photobook, and on making my paypal payment, was so unusually and pleasantly surprised at the oddly healthy state of the Australian dollar, that I paid extra for snappy delivery.
Hopefully Qoop are as good as they look. The only other Flickr affiliated service I’ve used is Moo – which, although they lost my order for over a month and a half, their little minicards are excellent. And they have global shipping. That’s all I have to say. Time has run out.
Happy Birthday to ME!!
Wednesday, 2 May 2007
A splendid day! I am THIRTY-FOUR bazillion years old!! Of course, I didn’t worry about that until about 2.55pm, which is when I was actually born. I woke up, and M made me tea and porridge – pointing out our polished-for-the-birthday appliances:
Note the birthday shrine and the gorgeous roses from my mum, who also made me a cake – and not only that, but entrusted me with her Tupperware cake traveller on pain of being written from the Will if anything happened to it.
Then I began tearing open delicately removing the wrapping from this excellent looking book, and a lovely necklace and swag of magazines – and of course the impeccable card from my five-year-old friend Jack. And then in no particular order I got a fabbo Coty vintage cosmetics case that I’d had my eye on (since the hinges of my current one did not survive three weeks at sea), an fabulous InEssence travel vapouriser/oil/candles set, and voucher to the Paperback Bookshop. And then I got to M’s gifties. And oh, did he win some serious points!
I love it when I am a victim of successful subterfuge. It’s very satisfying being successfully deceived for good and not evil. Thus, I had been gagging to get a tour T-shirt when we went to see Wilco play a few weeks ago. M got up a few times before the show started, saying that his dinner had upset his stomach. The first time he left, I had a sly girlish hope that he was going to come back with a T-shirt for me as a surprise, but he just came back with a I-have-a-petal-stomach face, and when he dashed off for the second time I thought no more of it. But he secretly hid the following under his jacket, and now it’s MINE!
All wrapped up in freak cat paper. The next present blew my tiny brain. I schlep around the place with my old Palm T3 with a 512MB card in it, and I have to put on only four or five Harry Potter mp3 files at a time, and it’s battery life is crap. Imagine my wonder when I totally unexpectedly unwrapped a…
Tres EXCELLENT!!! I was so horrified and overwhelmed by the wonder of the present that I took ages to get it out of the v.sexy box. No more endless transfer of files to my Palm! I can listen to the next two Harry Potter books read by the imitable Stephen Fry and they only take up about five percent of my Pod!!! *squeaks*
So now the bed was demented with wrapping paper, and cats that thought they should be on the wrapping paper;
Note the faux wood walls – M and I were hysterical that this time last year we were homeless, but awoke in the Hydro Majestic in the Blue Mountains and this year we live in trailerland. Ha!
I plugged in the IPod to charge it up and Dad and T came over for a cup of birthday tea – I scored the first series of At Home With the Braithwaites and a contribution of funds towards the Auslan course I’m keen to do. I got a Happy Birthday text from my old friend Bridget, whose birthday was yesterday, which was an excellent surprise. M and I then set off – he chauffered me in the Humber – to the Merricks General Store for a splendiforous lunch.
I extravagantly ordered House made gnocchi in a light blue cheese, spinach and chardonnay cream sauce with toasted pinenuts and Grana Padano which I topped off with a glass of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and finishing with a chunk of Turkish Delight and a piece of my favourite pistachio, cherry and cranberry nougat.
Did I have to include a blow by blow description of the food? Absolutely. It was divine. We went for a noodly drive to Balnarring Beach, and then checked the post box on the way home. Didn’t get home until after 4pm and just kicked back for the rest of the day, biding our time until candles and cake!! I can’t remember the last time I’ve had the combination of a Melbourne birthday and T-shirt weather! My trailer birthday, while different to last year’s in Katoomba, was kickass!
So no one notice?
Wednesday, 9 May 2007
No one really noticed the appliance pR0n that I posted on my birthday? I bet M is really disappointed. And the kettle’s never been the same…
Nasty weather in Newcastle!
Friday, 8 June 2007
From the ABC Newcastle site. Photographer: Simone Thurtell
Sorry mum…
Wednesday, 1 August 2007
Um… Two weeks ago it appeared to be thriving? It died a natural death? I’ll get you another one next season? By the time you get back from overseas you will have forgotten all about it as I will have hidden the remains?
A few shots from the weekend
Sunday, 19 August 2007
Cooking up breakfast…
Saturday afternoon shower.
Beanbag the dog. Prince of the posers.
The creek at the bottom of the paddock.
I think this is just the beginning…
Thursday, 27 September 2007
My mother is back from almost four months away, and of course is jubilant about the prospect of PartyPie. So guess which pile of presents is mine…
Bear & Cat
Thursday, 25 October 2007
I made these!
Snooze
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
We wondered where Saffy had been hanging out during the daytime – in the $20 baby capsule I bought by mistake on Ebay that I’d stuck in the shed. Comfy for a cat.
The Mia Cushion
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
It is almost a year since M and I were appointed as godparents to M’s (wait for it…) Great Niece – a small child called Mia Grace. We had not a clue of what being a godparent entailed, sent up some champagne for the christening and hoped for the best. We have never met, which is sort of odd, because Mia Grace hangs out in Hervey Bay, Queensland and she turns One on 12 December.
M and I were pondering one what a one-year-old would like, until it got too hard and we were at a market in Mornington and saw some gorgeous cushions, one of which said ‘Mia’. They are handmade by Emma and Me – two enterprising mothers. I love it.
SB, UFO – Arrives!
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
The title translates as Small Brother, Uncle From Overseas – Arrives! Actually, that should be ‘arrived’ ashe flew in this morning. His style can only be described as ‘casual chic while visiting the colonies’. Sweat from being chauffered in a non-airconditioned Humber added to the whole authenticity.
He met his new (and only) niece, and deemed her worthy of the loot ge had brought with him – EXCELLENT bib with her name on it and one of my cat drawings that used to grace these pages, a long sleeve t-shirt emblazoned “PARTYPIE”!! A very cool long armed and legged pink and green suit and TWO pairs of what must be the cutest and softest little leather shoes on the planet…
He is going to spend some time at the Trailer, and will no doubt be helping M return to the Land of Beer. Mmmm. I faintly recall that amber fluid.
A day out.
Sunday, 18 May 2008
On Sunday we took a trip to Mornington to get out of the Trailer and blow the cobwebs from our collective brain. M and I have been seething at each other for weeks now, and it was nice to shake it all off and go wandering through shops and nibbling in cafes. PartyPie loves riding in the sling facing outward or being carried by M – but when it was time for her to sleep she faces inwards, and the day was cold, so M buttoned her up in his coat. All you could see was a small, lifeless looking foot hanging out of the bottom…
And no. M has not gone mad and lost his head, he just didn’t wholly approve of the photo. And god forbid I should annoy anyone else on [miaow] even if only by including a photo of the BACK of their HEAD. As everyone knows, Interpol have satellite tracking based purely on craniometry where they simply scan the shape of your skull and pull up your most intimate details on screens simultaneously in offices around the globe. Watch out! YOU could be next.
(Slaps self for being evil. Shakes head for being unable to post without mentioning it. Sighs, and goes off to bed.)
Stick it out
Friday, 1 August 2008
Whales, Harry Potter, and winter mornings
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Spent last night sobbing over the baby whale in Sydney Harbour. It got left behind when its pod swam off to their next destination. Oh gosh. It was trying to suckle on boats – it just drinks it’s mother’s milk for the first year. It’s making me cry to TYPE it 
It had to be euthanised. For some reason, lots of people dying in a plane crash just doesn’t affect me in the same way.
It is for this reason I am glad I haven’t watched television all year. Of course, M had to come home and tell me about it – I would much prefer not to have known. Consoled self by watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – and now I am up to date with the Harry films. I have to say that Order of the Phoenix was probably my most favourite of the books. Watching the latest two films is odd. For me they are like the shorthand version of the books, but I imagine they would be great if you hadn’t read them and didn’t know how much they’d had to leave out for the sake of brevity.
Here’s a photograph from this morning – currently my favourite one of M and Small Z. They are on their morning walk and M always lets Small Z smell and grab the trees…
And another shot from this morning, also taken by M on their walk…
The weather during the days is pretty crap at the moment, but the mornings and evenings just look sublime. Chilly, but picturesque.
Galah Galah
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
We finally got some visitors to our bird feeder!
Spring’s doing its thing
Saturday, 6 September 2008
OK. So now I feel more like I’ve been ridden over by a, um, [pause to think of appropriate vehicle] chunky new model Vespa motor scooter. Like the one Small Brother abandoned when he left London behind. The throat that felt like I’d been gargling razors has now downgraded to gargling coarse grade sandpaper.
All in all, am generally improving. And this has been helped by showstopper spring weather, which I have been SO thankful for. I fully believe in Seasonal Affective Disorder – not that I have it (der) but day after day of cold, grey, manky, skanky, galeforce windy weather would drive most people a bit spare. God knows how you people with snow cope. Snow is good to visit, and that’s about it for me.*
The last few days have been those zingy spring ones with a bit of heat in the midday sun. Although I had to work all day today, I had the door of the study cracked open to let some of the afternoon in. And went out and took a few pictures as well. PartyPie has been getting into grass in a big way – and also has been enjoying riding in the bucket on the clothes basket trolley. See the grass? That’s stuck on there with snot. She is a classy little thing…
And here is my garden of pots and crates. It’s been getting a lot of rain – which is good, because I can’t find where the fertiliser has gone, but it probably doesn’t matter seeing as it’s all planted in about seventy percent horse poo.
*Note: It’s pretty funny, but in the middle of writing this I wandered over to the blog of Long Lost Cousin, and she is similarly jubilant at the change in our meteorological scenery. Not that she needs to be, as she’s just buggered off on another adventure…)
Old tech
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
I began cleaning out the study a little bit – starting with a crate of stuff I had taking up all the room at the top of the cupboard. Chucked out old network cards, graphics cards, leads, and am looking for somewhere to recycle a couple of dead mobile phones. I saved a few old hard drives, as I’m sure there are photos and stuff on there that might be fun to investigate sometime down the track.
I stumbled on my old Palm IIIx. It was this item that began my evil credit card spiral. I would even go so far as to say that I got a job, so I could get a credit card, purely to get myself the Palm IIIx – which at that time was over $600 *goggle* I loved it SO much. And over time I got a collapsible keyboard for it and the fabulous Pocketmail attachment. I could use it to blog and email wherever there was a payphone or mobile phone. It was seriously ace – particularly for boating holidays.
The Wikipedia entry for Pocketmail is quite hilarious, stating with apparent amazement that ‘it works with any phone, EVEN OUTSIDE THE UNITED STATES’!! Good god! How extraordinary. It then adds sadly that the Australian Pocketmail has given up and now spends it’s time owning uranium mining prospects in Queensland and South Australia. Of course.
There is no way I can get rid of this thing. I have given it permission to take up unnecessary space in my existence. Possibly there will be some lucrative future recurrence of interest in the Palm IIIx, and when there is I will be able to dig it out with a flourish – while PartyPie looks on uncomprehendingly…”But mum, where’s the colour on the screen gone?” And I will have to tell her that, once upon a time? There was this thing called monochrome…
Hung out to dry
Friday, 12 September 2008
Hello Jasmine Barbara!
Thursday, 16 October 2008
My very good mates, J&S had a baby girl this morning! [cue spontaneous applause]
Little Jasmine Barbara turned up at 9.34am and she is super cute. I had earlier said that I thought it would be a boy, but then I had a dream (yes, just like Martin Luther) two nights ago that it was a girl. Should have had confidence in my dream!! Jasmine is a beautiful name and she is going to be such an ace addition to our lives! I am really looking forward to a camping trip in a year or two where we have all these two year olds running around. By then we should have them trained to get us beers from the esky. What could be better than that!? Ha! We have had a bellyful (how’s that for a collective noun?) of babies appear in our lives in the past twelve months – Chloe, Elijah, Marco, Axel, and now the beautiful Jasmine.
Congratulations to J&S – especially S, who did the very hard yards. We knocked back a glass of red for you guys tonight.
Happy Hay
Thursday, 13 November 2008
This is just part of the reason I want to move north. Our friend Ian saw this on his way to work this morning:
He wrote, ‘Lismore art activists struck this paddock last night – hay will never be the same again!’
It has given me some ideas…
Goodbyes and Grass
Monday, 17 November 2008
We went to Loch on Sunday to put Mow in the back paddock. Dad had dug the hole – which involved a lot more effort than the previous one, as the earth has hardened in the warmer weather. M put Mow in and we said our goodbyes. We drank a little glass of port each, to speed Mow on his way. And there it was. We’re catless. It kind of feels like we’re in a constant state in which we have something missing from our ensemble, like a left sock. Odd. We’re still trying to get our heads around it.
Our goodbyes were followed by a splendiferous lunch, after which most of us passed out on the grass, full of roast chicken, roast potato, D’Affinois cheese, kangaroo salami, sourdough bread and lashings of champagne. Very classy. Small Z loves grass, and there is not a lot of the good gear in Trailerland – it’s all dry, brown and pokey. So she was in her element. I took some photos.
Please note all the Humbers in the background – mine’s in the middle and I cannot WAIT to hook up the caravan to it and…oh, I don’t know, just drive it around like a pimp wearing red lipstick, and stopping at intervals to make cups of tea in picturesque locales.
Yawn…time for bed.
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Happy Birthday Baby!
Friday, 9 January 2009
Small Z celebrated her first birthday with all her relatives and a couple of friends (Grassy Noel and Christine). We had salad rolls, cake and champagne. Small Z felt the day was very successful. M made her a fantastic birthday cake, which she was allowed to poke with her chubby little starfish hands.
We toasted Small Z, and then M made a toast to the efforts of my boobs, and all that they had achieved over the last twelve months. Small Brother took Small Z on rides on her Big Dog all around the backyard and we listened to kid-music until we couldn’t take it anymore and turned on the Audreys.
A motor in ‘moo
Sunday, 18 January 2009
Today was the most sublime day in existence, yet again proving that 26 degrees is truly my most ideal temperature. At around 6pm this evening we put Oomoo on his trolley and went over the road to the tiniest nearest homemade ‘boat ramp’ in amongst the mangroves. Here is myself and Small Z making our way offshore – it’s the first time she’s ever worn her little lifejacket. I love how the sun hits the water in this shot. It’s the first time we have all been out in Oomoo together…
After we got back, I went for a quick noodle on my own – but when I came back, M said that Small Z had not particularly warmed to the sight of me disappearing by boat out through the mangroves and into the ‘open sea’. So I came ashore, and he went for a solo manly motor…
Just a small sample of our torture…
Thursday, 29 January 2009
The suit. And the…walking.
Thursday, 26 February 2009
The Cancer Council, after I telephoned and harrassed them about how long it was taking, finally deigned to send the sunsuit and hat for Small Z that I ordered a while back. The woman spoke to me like I was lucky she had even found my order, let alone contemplated posting it. It arrived today. The tide was high around 3pm and Small Z and I went over the road for a splashdown.
And the walking? I think that we can date the walking as beginning from today. Small Z’s confidence has been building…with the help of Baa! The WonderSheep. It’s bizarre how much growing can happen in 13 months…
The Fruit Guru
Sunday, 1 March 2009
My dad, who has been living exclusively in the country for…who knows, about six or seven years or so now, has been planting various trees throughout that time. There are plum, lime, orange, chestnut, persimmon, peach and apple trees. And I have definitely left out a few others. There are more apple trees than the other fruits, and not just the normal apples, but ones like the Gravenstein. They make amazing applesauce – one of my top five favourite foods.
Most of the trees, in the last couple of years, have become quite mature and have started producing serious amounts of fruit. After extensive prompting, a few weeks ago he began tentatively becoming a fruit-pimp, asking around at a few different places to see if they would be interested in selling his apples. Der. He has since made over a hundred dollars in apple sales – and the apples are amazing and ‘organic’ – i.e. grown without any chemical anything – the trees are fed with manure and covered with bird net.
So the fruit-pimp has re-labelled himself Fruit GURU. Particularly as he is also now selling something he didn’t plant, but continues to grow there regardless. Blackberries. Back when we moved to the house in the country for a couple of years when I was in primary school, the place was choked with blackberry. Now it remains in blobs around the property, and, although it is an evil weed, I am glad. Because blackberries are tasty. There are kilo bags of blackberries in his freezer and still more growing outside.
This afternoon Small Z and I went down for a late lunch, and as I languished over a Coopers, followed by a cup of tea, Man With Beard (my dad has not taken to the ‘Grandad’ title) took Small Z for a forage. She returned blacklipped and shrieking “More? More!?” We all went back out and she picked some herself. As did I.
And now I’m looking for a simple blackberry muffin recipe. Oh YUM.
Saturday in South Gippsland
Saturday, 23 May 2009
We went to Loch for a goodbye-we’re-going-oversease-for-five-weeks lunch today. And I played avidly with dad’s completely awesome camera – a seriously sexy Nikon D300.
These pictures are so small because I took more than thirty – too big to email all of them to myself at any great size. But whatever. We had a lovely feasty foody day. Small Z tried avidly to tempt Splodge the cat with offerings of leaves and ’stickys’ (sticks) and fed the fish that live in the bathtub. Everything is lush, all the trees are mulched, but confused. The olive tree is olive-ing, the mandarin tree is mandarin-ing…the drought has buggered their timing.
At the end of yesterday…
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Backyard weather
Saturday, 22 August 2009
I’ve been hanging at home a bit more with Small Z this past week. WIth the new sleep practices at night, timings of the midday nap have changed… and I’ve also thought it is a bit more settling to hang about at home while the nights can be fraught (yes – I did jinx myself with that post…)
The weather has been making things easier, with big spates of sunny afternoons. We draw on the concrete with chalk (a habit we picked up in New York), run around under the clothesline, and hunt for dandelions to blow…
(Note the ‘Grumpy Mow’* and the ‘Happy Mow in a Bra’)
*Mow rhymes with cow
Happy Father’s Day M!
Sunday, 6 September 2009
Obamalamadingdong
Monday, 7 September 2009
My uncle (I have three – two in Massachusetts and one in Binginwarri) looks after the Gay Head lighthouse in Aquinnah on Martha’s Vineyard, and has done for over 20 years or so. He takes people through on tours during the summer months – if you click that link, there’s a picture of him down the bottom of the page.
So, he’s the man – the lighthouse keeper, the guy with the keys to the large glowstick. About three weeks ago, Meg (his sister and my aunt) wanted to go away on a camping trip. This meant that someone needed to be around to keep my Nan company – my Nan has lived with meg for a while now, and Meg didn’t want to leave her own for four days.
She was originally going to go over and stay with Richard and his wife, Joanie, on the Vineyard, but this didn’t work out. Instead, Richard went over to Marblehead and stayed with Nan. While he was gone, Joan got a call from someone saying that they wanted to take a tour of the lighthouse… she said Richard wasn’t available, but that she would be happy to do it. The person did not say who it was that was going to be coming through – but I’m assuming Joanie started to suspect, after the area around the lighthouse was locked down and made secure over a few hours…
Joan then, on her own, got to take Barack and Michelle Obama and their daughters on a tour of Gay Head Lighthouse!! This calls for an OMG! I felt so bad for Richard, longtime lighthouse carer and guru, missing out on taking the PRESIDENT that he voted for on a tour But – woo! Joanie!!
Two things about this made me happy – one was that Barack Obama asked where Richard was, and on being told that he was looking after my Nan, sent his Nan some presidential best wishes and love… And the second thing is that he even WANTED to go and look through an old lighthouse – there is no way I can imagine George Bush ever wanting to bother doing such a thing.
Sunshine and Spring
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Today has brought the kind of weather thet used to make me want to weep with frustration whenever I had to work in an office – it is sublimely perfect spring day.
It’s impossible to remain indoors, and who would want to? My tiny friend, Small Z and I have been pottering for the last few hours. Me pulling weeds and hacking them with the mattock, and she playing with two bottle tops she named ‘Thomas’ and ‘Lowly’. (I have to admit only learning to call that aforementioned tool a ‘mattock‘ this morning, when I heard someone else pronounce it. Prior to this I have blithely gone though life telling people that I have been hacking away with a ‘maddock’. Which is, apparently, a US city and the surname of several people. Sigh. Still, it’s not as bad as addressing large corporate meetings using the word ‘echelon’ on several occasions and pronouncing it ‘Eck-a-lon’. But I’m getting off track…)
The mozzies are bad and so we are smothered in citronella. Small Z is wearing a great shirt for the conditions, bought for her by She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Blogged. I have found some seeds that we will plant later, post-nap. I will miss this house when we have to leave, regardless of the insect and possum issues. This weather has improved my mood, and instead of feeling like a creatively barren unproductive nothing, I feel…um…better.
Ever since Z saw a particular episode of Thomas the Tank Engine on YouTube she has been obsessed with flat tyres. And fixing them with a spanner, or seven. When they are flat…tyres go ‘clunk’.
Kongwak. We went back.
Sunday, 27 September 2009
I’ve been wanting to go back to Kongwak Market for what seems like aeons. We awoke in the caravan at Loch at about 7am, and left at around 8am via Korumburra.
Here is a minor tangent. When Small Z and I were coming back from northern NSW about a year ago we sat in front of a woman I had met once before, and her two daughters. I had met her when going with J to pick up Not-So-Small C from a playdate. Anyway, while we were on the plane I asked her where she was going. She told me I wouldn’t know the town, it was too small. Try me, I said.
Bena, she said, and waited for me to look blank.
Oh, I said, that’s right near where my dad lives, I know exactly where it is.
She then told me about friends of hers there that they were going to stay with, and how they were opening an organic cafe in Korumburra. I was floored. The words ‘Korumburra’ ‘organic’ and ‘cafe’ had never before sat together in my head. But it’s true! We drove into Korumburra at 8.30am, missed our turn-off, did a u-turn – and in doing so spied the ‘Green Door’ cafe.
They weren’t open, but inside were about 10 people all filling cardboard boxes with fruit and vegies. One of them saw my pitiful face at the window – it was pouring with rain – and said that we should come in anyway. We tucked ourselves down at a little table at the back, ordered scrambled eggs and coffee, and basked in that glow that comes with finding somewhere unexpectedly excellent. And the eggs and coffee did not fail us…
We got another round of coffee, which left me like an amphetamine reptile (I hardly ever drink it, but the soy-lattes were SO nice), and I picked up some Madame Flavour tea and some decent bread. Drove on to Kongwak Market, where M was kind enough to take over all toddler wrangling and leave me to rifling through all the clothes, bags and trinkets that were there. I regret not getting a pair of shoes, but did score a clock for the caravan and a vintage-cool sleeping bag, both for the caravan and both within my $20 budget.
Grand Final and Flooding Rains
Monday, 28 September 2009
We had planned to return to our favourite West Preston driveway to observe the AFL Grand Final in the company of our friend Mr H, but guiltily reneged in order to go to Loch, where Harley the Humber Whisperer was visiting. M had to talk to him about some pulley thingys he needs made, and Harley is the man. If I am somewhat like him when I am 80, I will be pretty well satisfied.
The caravan came with us. And the weather. Holy hell – Winter has returned! Thankfully the wood heater was doing its job. The farm is a lovely place to be in inclement weather. Over a lovely lunch M and Harley discussed pulley things and then I got to plumb his brain for information about installing my gas stove in the caravan. Harley, amongst many manny other things used to recondition gas stoves. Ha!
We had the television on to see the game from about halfway through the first quarter. It was muted so we didn’t have to listen to the commentary, but instead provided our own. I disposed of a stubby of Coopers Red as I was sucked further and further in. It was the best grand final I’d ever seen, down to the wire. Was SO disappointed to see Geelong win. Gah.
After the angst of the football, we went for a head-clearing walk outside. I used Dad’s supersonic digital Nikon SLR and took a whole lot of pictures. That camera can make anyone look like they know what they’re doing. Mostly…
The night was finished off with baked trevally and homemade chips. Small Z and I hit the bed in the caravan at 8.30pm, tucked in with our hot water bottle with the intermittent tapping of hail on the roof. It was our best night in the caravan yet. I need to sort out some permanent lighting, though…
A work day
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
A work day. M commented that Small Z has been very chilled, sweet and happy today. Maybe some of that is a reflection of me. I am trying to knuckle down to my work and be less distracted. I find that I’m less frustrated at the end of the day if I really set myself little deadlines – i.e. work solidly without checking email for one hour…and then have cup of tea!
The other thing is that M has really been a domestic god today. I hate to be some kind of neurotic neat freak, but it really drives me insane when the house disintergrates into piles of unwashed dishes, wet nappies and more than the normal operating clutter… Not today! Dishes are all done, washing has gone out and come in, and pumpkin and beetroot are roasting in the over. Huzzah, M!! Cute as well as functional! Ah well, everything has to have two uses…
The afternoon light
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
In between rain storms this afternoon, the light did that thing it does in between the clouds. I wished fervently for my dad’s kickass camera, but made do with the iPhone…
Doppelganger
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
On Sunday night M’s cousin Margaret came to stay over. She lives up near Lake Macquarie in NSW. She’d driven down in her new silver diesel ute to stay with friends in Melbourne for a week, and also to see another one of her cousins over in Greensborough.
I’d almost forgotten she was coming, as M had mentioned it once or twice, but I never had any idea who he was talking about. I had never heard of cousin Margaret – although it turns out I have met her brother, who I liked very much. Anyway, she showed up on Sunday afternoon. She’s a few years older than M – although it has to be said, M is fairly famed for not particularly looking his age.
The first thing I thought of was how much she looked like M’s mum – Faye – who is no longer around. After sitting at the table with her over several cups of tea and coffee I became more and more fixated. I couldn’t get over it. Her mannerisms, the way she said things. I secretly got up and composed myself a few times because I just found it quite unsettling – in a good way. She is lovely, lot’s of fun – and like me, loves her macbook and writing. She works as a subeditor on a daily newspaper, and I looked at her with envious eyes – I’ve always thought I might like to do that!
Here’s a few pictures.
And here is one of my favourite photos – taken probably around 1999 or so. M and I took Faye out to breakfast the day that we were leaving to drive back to Melbourne. She thought that ‘going out for breakfast’ sounded like an extremely foreign and decadent thing to do…. We went to a little cafe by the beach somewhere around Budgewoi, I think, and I jumped into a rockpool for a swim. Lovely.
Barwon Heads
Sunday, 22 November 2009
The evening following our foray to Emerald, Small Z was hard to get to sleep. We tried. Then she was back up at around 8pm. M and I looked at each other. We had been invited away to Barwon Heads for Mung’s birthday weekend, but weren’t going to go as it seemed too far for just one night and my back was s-o-r-e.
A text came through from Mung asking whether we would be arriving that night or the next morning. M – who usually hates driving distances, tentatively suggested we drive down right then, arrive at around 11pm and wake up there in the morning – thus giving ourselves two nights away. I jumped on this plan.
We made a pact not to dither around getting ready and were out of the house, packed, with caravan hitched, thirty-five minutes later. I think that’s some kind of record. All hail the soothing power of the automobile – Small Z slept the entire way. *boggles*
As we drew near Barwon Heads, and the super cool 1950’s style holiday house that they had rented, M said that he was sure everyone would be asleep by now. No way! I told him, it’s only about 11′o’clock – they’ll be up knocking back a few beers. We drew up, got sorted, and M grabbed his four remaining beers like a Frat boy, and hared off to party. Returning five minutes later, mournful. They were all in bed…
Mud and puddles
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Went up to visit the paternal parent in the country. He is the shape of a crab, or a pretzel, due to ongoing lower back pain and sciatica. Something Has To Be Done. He is hampered by his location and immobility. Argh! It is so frustrating.
However, we took advantage of the hospitality and dined on honey soy free range chicken drumsticks, potato salad, and, best of all, Windfall Pie.
Windfall Pie? A dazzling combination of blackberries and apples – the apples that have been collected from under the apple trees.
Small Z, who has been going through a phase which consists of her saying “Wipe your HANDS?” after she touches food and almost anything else (she means ‘Wipe my hands’ but remains a bit confused about ‘I’ and ‘Your’), rallied from her cleanliness. We were outside and she was investigating a drip…which led to investigating some mud, smearing mud over her tummy, face and tongue, and finishing it off by stepping in what she and I both thought was a shallow puddle…that turned out ankle deep. I hosed her in the shower. Kid fun!
Meanwhile, M filled our shed with all the things we have divested from our lives since moving house. That created a good feeling. So why is it that our shed at home still looks like it’s at bursting point? Declutter fairy, are you out there?
Somers
Friday, 19 February 2010
This was our first foray to the closest swimming beach. Next time I’ll pack more snacks…
It didn’t go too badly.
Goddamn! Here I am posting something on the same day it happened! I feel that something has slightly shifted. Is this progress?
SLAM Protest Rally & Sleepers
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
I haven’t left this side of town for what seems like an a-g-e. Yesterday, this changed. M, Small Z and I drove into Northcote in the morning, and were gratified to discover that it took exactly an hour. An HOUR! An hour to civilisation, trams, coffee, chai made with leaves and hot milk, and…our actual destination. The first Sleepers Publishing CryBaby Salon.
I was glad to have had M there acting as my Manny, as I doubt Small Z would have stayed in the toddlers room for the entire session on her own. As it was, I was practically the only person in the room without an incy-wincy baby draped over me or crawling at my feet. Lawrie Steed interviewed Rachel Power, author of The Divided Heart: Art and Motherhood – a book I would have bought except for a cash deficit. Am now going to request it for birthday.
There was much discussion over the guilt involved with trying to pursue your artistic endeavours while still feeling like a worthwhile mother. A few times it was suggested that you have to try hard to just down tools, put your partner in charge, shove the expressed breastmilk in the fridge and JUST LEAVE. Something I have whole-heartedly aspired to, but am really really not good at doing. In question time I wanted to ask…but what about those mothers who have babies that don’t sleep without being breastfed and who won’t take a bottle? The sleep deprivation and the sheer brain deadening fatigue?! What do they do?!!
I think the response would have been ‘do whatever you can’. If you can grab 30 minutes a day to write or dance or paint, just do it. It’s good enough. It’s better than nothing. And it’s no crime that if, when those 30 minutes are there for the taking, all you can do is slump with a few chocolate biscuits and a cup of tea. Things will always improve.
I wondered also about the levels of difficulty – if you have come up with a non-fiction topic that you can focus on and research – is that easier or harder than writing fiction? Does the time you lack for contemplation weigh equally heavily on the fiction writer and the painter and the dancer? I suppose it all depends on the person, and what you allow yourself to do. Time to immerse yourself in your chosen artform shouldn’t feel like an indulgence, and shouldn’t feel like you are doing it at the expense of something else…the washing, the dinner… It’s this hardwired, burnt-chop mother thing that I think a lot of people identified with yesterday – the ongoing struggle to separate yourself as artist and mother.
And as Rachel Power said – the triumvirate of art, motherhood and WORK is the real killer. She spoke about the harmony that can come of the motherhood and art combination. When work is thrown into the mix, that’s the thing that sends it all off key. Just thinking about this makes me want to go and buy a Powerball ticket…
After visiting the nasally impaired, but mending Dr of Grass, we took the scenic route to Carlton via Coburg as Small Z slumbered in the back. And then moseyed on down to the front of the State Library for the Save Live Australian Music protest rally, where we met LIBRARYMAN (aka Mr H in work attire) and marched from there, through the city, and up Bourke Street to Parliament House. It was fabuloso!!
At the end, after a rousing rendition of ‘It’s a Long Way to the Top if you want to ROCK & ROLL’, there was a little too much speechifying – a great deal of which was generally indistinct to those further back in the crowd. I think they should have got people up to make a few pithy statements, got ‘em off, and had a few more songs. But, whatever… We took our leave with the hungry small one, and headed home after a stop for lemon lime and bitters, some spuds and some pesto bread.
Note Small Z on M’s shoulders to left of banner…
Saturday in training
Saturday, 13 March 2010
Another Saturday morning. Oh dear, the more Autumn’s and Springs’s I have, the more I edge toward somewhere like Tasmania or New Zealand as somewhere to live. It seems that 24-26 degrees with a tiny breeze is my ultimate day. Like today. After M chef-ed up some superior scrambled eggs we left the house with Small Z in tow.
We took her to Hastings Station for a joyride on a diesel to Stony Point. Some kids would fail to be impressed by this, but Small Z, being a trainspotter in training (sorry), is not one of them. She had told us we would probably be travelling on Gordon. As the train pulled up, the only other child on the platform, who was a good four years older than Small Z, shrieked “It’s Gordon! It’s GORDON!!” Is there some kind of conspiracy?
Naturally we travelled for free, as we are mykey virgins and didn’t know you couldn’t buy a ticket at the station anymore. Good one, Victorian government, you’ve done REALLY well with this! We journeyed to Stony Point, where we disembarked, checked the timetable, decided that there was not enough fun there to fill to two hours until the next train, and got back on the train we had just vacated.
The train was only one carriage and was filled to popping point, mostly by a mass of bright young things escaping the naval base. We got off at Tyabb and wandered around the Packing House for a while, mostly for the coffee in the old red rattler and the slide. There is also a pottery place there – and as someone who has always wondered what they could do with clay and a wheel, I got a brochure for classes.
Back home for the nap and then, after some bubbles in the backyard, down to Balnarring beach for the rest of the day. The weird thing was, we avoided the main carpark and went up through some streets, found a secluded spot where there was ONE other car. Parked. Got out. Our neighbours said “Hello!” Apparently it’s their hangout. I think they felt like we were stalking them.
