Tag: friends (Page 1 of 10)

Grand Finale

We had a great day out on yesterday to see the only football game I watch every year – the Grand Final. Last year M and I watched it alone in the trailer. I was a whale, with PartyPie cooking on a slow simmer inside me. This year she was out and about – and had a great time trying to consume the lawn of our hosts.

I forgot my camera, but am hoping Dr Grass can send some through for me to post up here so I have some rememberance later down the track. We really don’t get out much with Small Z due to the amount of driving to get anywhere – when she’s only really sociable in two to two and a half hour blocks. But M whispered her to sleep in the main bedroom before going off to have a kick of the Sherrin and all was peachy fine.

I was semi-secretly barracking for Geelong – having lived there for a year in 1991. A year of no money, extensive beer and some university studies. They started losing the plot in the third quarter, and the rest was very hard to watch. Put it this way. Hawthorn won. Our host’s brother was down from Sydney and he stayed outside the whole game, speaking fondly about rugby to anyone who would listen. We had a great day out. Going out to daytime stuff is such a relief and sometimes it’s only when I get out of the trailer that I realise how much I need to.

Barwon Heads

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…

Fishing near the Barwon Heads Bridge
Luka. Running.
The morning after the night before

Sunny day, everything’s A-OK…

A day that began with me going on a solo bike ride. Down the street. To get some milk and go to the chemist. Most of you won’t find this at all intriguing. But for me, being able to take off, on my own, and ride to SOMETHING that is not the park, the pier or the one shop, left me almost breathless with possibility. Or at least with a feeling of freedom – it felt like I hadn’t had that sort of feeling for a long while.

This is how people must feel when they move from a small, slightly isolated locality? The thing about all the places M and I have lived over the past five years (- or is it SEVEN? Now I come to ponder it…) we have never lived anywhere we have intended to stay for long. In Hervey Bay, it was always…’when the house is finished’…and now it is… ‘and when the catamaran is finished’. There is always a longer goal.

Of course, the longer goal is actually somewhere where we would really like to live for a good long while. Get a black faced sheep. Some chooks. You know, after we, um, win lotto or something. But anyway, for the meantime, Hastings is ringing my bells. The house moving has receded and my fatigue is improving. (Have I mentioned that that other January 2010 venture included nightweaning Small Z for the FINAL time? It was hard, but is now a total blessing.)

Today was our best day so far. My morning bike ride was followed by some noodling around the house, some cleaning, M and Small Z in the garden putting up Oomoo’s sail, and then being visited by Mr and Master H for lunch. We then headed back to Somers beach, all in my car. Master H commented, while settling himself into the back next to Small Z and I;

“This car is very 1980s!”

So sage for an eight year old. I was delighted to inform him it was a 1981 model. Mr H’s head fitted fetchingly out of the sunroof. It was all good. Somers beach was a hit, the water was warm and our beach tent solid. M brought down the canoe/kayak thingy and took Small Z out on it (this is her most favourite thing to do since she has been two. Then we got to watch Mr and Master H cavort with the kayak thing in the waves, while rubbing life back into Small Z’s cold little body…

We headed home to passionfruit gelati and cups of tea. If I could press repeat on the whole day, I would.

Two visitations

We have had two unexpected visitations over the past week. Last Thursday, our lovely friends who decamped to live in Launceston a year ago dropped past on their way back from Phillip Island. It was excellent to see them! Their littlest kid was four months old (the same age as Small DB now) when we last saw them – she is now a truly sassy and gorgeous 14-month old – the smallest walking person you’ve ever seen! Hi Lola!

We caught up for a few hours over the afternoon – I was lucky to have my mum here to help with the Smalls, and she also made tea and got the other kids out on the trampoline as well. We pay her a huge hourly rate… 😉
Now they’ve gone back to Tasmania, and again we pledge to keep our poverty-stricken eyes on the airline sales, looking for those $39 specials to fly over and visit.

Our other visitors were a complete unknown quantity. M sold a boat on eBay, a guy in South Australia bought it, and drove over with his son to pick it up! The night before Small Z’s birthday, with shopping to be done, no food in the house, presents unwrapped, cake non-existent, this guy comes to the door and says he’s here to pick up the boat. Startlingly (you may sense a little twitch of sarcasm there, but please ignore), he’d been unable to contact M on his mobile to arrange a definite time. Yike.

Somehow it transpired that both small ones were asleep by 7pm. M helped the guy and his son load the bits of boat on to their ute in torrential rain. They came inside to dry off, and ended up buying us fish and chips for dinner and sleeping the night in the caravan. M’s moment of the match was jokingly suggesting to the 13-year-old that it was his turn to say grace before we started in on the food… and after a slightly uncomfortable pause, his dad said that actually they DO say grace every night when they are at home… D’oh. First round to M.

This guy turned out to be an eBay obsessive (if it wasn’t obvious that he was happy to drive for nine hours to pick up a $500 boat) and in between showing me freakish oddities that people had listed wrongly or somewhat askew, he showed me fatfingers.com – a site that searches eBay for misspelt listings – with the intention that you might find some kind of crazy bargain. Bizarre.

I left him and M up and went to bed, after instructing M to get going on the cake. They came in early in the morning and said ‘happy birthdays’ to Small Z, and then went on their way – with nine hours on the road ahead of them. I wonder if we’ll ever see them again?

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