Bad Blogger: Chaos Edition

 

Usually when you have a blog, and you go to the other side of the world on holiday, you write a little something every day to share the wonders and adventures of the place you're in.

I prefer to become paralysed by imagined pressure, failing to write anything at all until a good 30 days in; then I try, unwisely, to unload it all at once.

Here, I've made the unloading even more random by uploading my pictures in no particular order and being unable to shuffle them. I'm going to just write stuff underneath them, and hope you stick with me. 

Good luck to us all. Let's begin.

 

First of all, I love being home so very much.  Australia is such a novelty – which is sad in one way because it must mean I don't fully belong anymore, but happy because everything old is new again.  The shine of it! Kookaburras laughing when I wake up early. Magpies singing as I walk to the gym.  Lemon gum and eucalyptus on the air, Weetbix for breakfast and Australian news on the TV.  Did I mention the amazing coffee??  Yes, yes I did.

My "Australia radar" malfunctioned at first, going into overdrive.  See, back home (which home? America-home) I have a constant scan going on for all sightings and mentions of Australia and Australian things. I didn't realise this until I got here and my brain kept shouting, "Hey! Hey! An Australian accent!  Hey! They just talked about Brisbane on the news!  Hey! That's Powderfinger on the radio! Hey! An Australian flag!  Hey!  A koala sign!  Cuuuute!"  I've become accustomed to it after six weeks, so that I don't spin out anytime someone mentions Melbourne or Milo, but the fun endures.

You know what else is new again?  My friends.  I have connected and reconnected with dear friends, and I just love them so much I want to take them home with me.  It's unreasonable that I can't just drag Australia and America up alongside each other. Why does continental drift take so long, and go in the wrong directions?

Here above: Kristy and Gerrod. I'd actually never met them before this day at Brother Espresso, but they shared a flat with my brother and sister-in-law in London so we were meant-to-be lifelong friends. I'm pretty sure Gerrod knows when my grandparents' anniversary is and how to spell my sister's middle name and stuff like that, so – we're tight. Also, they're funny (the picture at the top of this post? that's me losing my composure next to Gerrod for at least the fourth time).

Here's Kirsty (above), my best friend from Grade 8. I went a whole 19 years without seeing her until we discovered each other on Facebook last year (kudos, Facebook!)  We've been scrambling to make up for lost time ever since, and it's a joy. 

Kirsty's little boy was born the same week as Man-show, so our kids get on like a house on fire. Without the kids, we went to an extra-special-fancy girls' night out with Jodi, who made our trio in Grade 9.  Neither of us had seen her in fully 20 years, and six hours out together barely scratched the surface.

That's Jodi's death-by-chocolate... I blame the borrowed camera for being bad at close range – not me. It's never me.

I have been going to some great restaurants here, that reminds me.  And did I tell you?  I went to the incredible Valentino Retrospective at the Gallery of Modern Art.  It was an amazing exhibit; seeing those iconic gowns together in one space was inspiring. Berry and Mika were keen to find the most-princessy dresses – there was a heated debate over which of them would "get to wear" the pink caped evening ensemble from Winter 1990/91...

Photography was super-strictly forbidden inside the gallery, so you'll have to take my word for all that. But here are the girls standing by the V.

And with that, I've worn myself out.

More randomness soon, featuring animals, the Opera House, midnight at McDonald's, fairy bread, and how awesome it is to see my family.

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South!

If you look really, really hard, you can see the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge through the plane window.

I took the kids down for five festive days and (when I don't need a Panadol and a sleep so desperately) I'll show you some more pictures.  And words, since people seem to like blogs to have words... 


. . .

Optimist

Dad lifted Man-show up on to the giant antique McCormick-Deering that lives up the back paddock.

Man-show grasped the steering wheel with both hands. 

"Okay!" he said, "Now push."

. . .

I'm not obsessed

Gallery of Modern Art : South Brisbane

After swearing all my life that I never would, I started drinking coffee a couple of months after Man-show was born.

I thought it was simply a way to stay upright.  In Australia – where coffee really is coffee – I've realised it's soooooo much more....

Brother Espresso, downtown Brisbane

Merlo espresso beans : vintage Bushells jar : my parents' place

Noop : Gumdale

Three Monkeys : West End

Don't try this at home

We survived.  More than 8660 miles, I survived wrangling two kids in a plane – well, three planes – by myself.

Aside from three low points, the trip to Australia was about as decent as I could have asked for.

Low point #1: trying to get a place on the very necessary shuttle from the domestic terminal of LAX to the international terminal of LAX at 9.30pm, shuffling along a narrow traffic island besieged by blaring traffic with the stroller, the carry-on luggage, a weeping Berry and fifty other passengers. And the shuttle swept past the stop without so much as a pause.

Low point #2: on the flight to Auckland, two of our three in-flight entertainment units malfunctioned. Sadly the entertainment unit is essential for entertaining a toddler on a 14-hour flight, but the crew did try... they got it fixed after about eight hours. Man-show slept well which was a real bonus. Berry, not so much.

Low point #3 (the worst): the trip from Auckland to Brisbane. Man-show was really, really over the flying. He didn't shout or cry, but he was bored out of his head and started asking "Are we there yet? Can I get out?" on continuous loop starting about 15 minutes into the trip. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to kick the seat in front of him.  Wasn't it put there specifically for kicking?  I basically had to lie on his legs. Uhhhh.

But we're here, we're done, and we don't have to do it again... until late September.  Heaven help us.

Bad cat

This is wicked Pilly.

She used to be our cat, and then she became Grandpa Tom's cat some time after Hurricane Katrina. Tom needed a cat, Pilly needed an owner tolerant of miscreant pets – it was a match made in heaven.

That's Nathan's arm she's biting.  No idea what the offense was.  Knowing Pilly, perhaps none.

. . .

Sparkly!

"Mommy," Berry asks, "Who is that lady on our fridge? The one with the red dress?"


. . .

Absence

Six weeks down. We won't talk about how long there is to go...


. . .

Inconsiderate

"Mommy," Berry says, "you know what I really don't like about birds? Is when they DIE, and lie down on the road."

Dead birds have such a nerve.


. . .

Mmmmmojitos

I made these mojitos from scratch – simmered the simple syrup, squeezed the limes, even picked the mint from our garden – and they were fabulous.

I didn't drink all four of them myself, but if I hadn't had guests I might've been tempted. Nathan is usually chief mojito maker, but it looks like this is one of the valuable skills I'm gaining in his absence.

Cheers!

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