A Saturday at home hanging out together was a little overdue. The morning saw us back at the farmer’s market drinking coffee and taking turns with Small Z in the tiny petting zoo, while the afternoon found us over the road as the tide rose…
Tag: beach (Page 1 of 4)
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.
I am undecided about playgroup. It’s great that we can walk to it, there is a pretty nice atmosphere (despite one completely psycho child who makes my right hand itch to SLAP IT DOWN), lots of toys and a song and story at the end. Better than we were accustomed to last year at our other location.
However, there’s no one that’s really Small Z’s age (not that they socialise much together yet anyway), they never go outside, and there are various kids that wander around sucking on boxes of Smarties (to my snoblike horror). I wonder what this is about -more me, or more Small Z? I think it might be me. Because Small Z isn’t really into socialising yet, she couldn’t give a toss about the other kids…me, on the other hand – I would like to turn up and (I hesitate to use the term ‘make friends’) have someone to chat to.
I took Small Z to a different playgroup last week – about a ten minute drive away on the beach. OMG – like a different planet. It is ONLY outside. And it must be the moneyed beachside air that had all the kids (who were almost ALL around Small Z’s age) looking newly scrubbed and tenderly tousled like they had escaped from some kind of organic clothing catalogue… But anyway, due to a mega-meltdown over bucket sharing I had to leave early and didn’t actually meet more than one person. It was a little cliquey, but like I said, I didn’t get a chance to really barge up and say hello to anyone as I was alternating between tear-wiping and bribes…
So today, we gave playgroup a miss and hit Balnarring Beach. Early enough to see some horses having a wander on the sand, freshly out of the water. If anybody was privy to me attempting to wrestle the beach tent back down in gusting wind as Small Z screamed “Leave it UP. LEEEEAAAVE IT UPPPPPP!!!” I’m sure I would have provided their comic relief for the week. There were some tearing sounds as the wind grabbed a bit that still had sand in the pockets. D’oh.
Once I squished it small enough to fit in the boot of the car, I called it done. And that’s where it will stay until I get over my beach tent inadequacy. Why couldn’t it be as easy to take down as put up?