muppinstuff

why we go on holidays

At the beginning of our trip away I felt a little like when working full time ... the omigod it's Friday night which means in two more days it'll be Monday again feeling. But as it was, time stretched out in front of me, there were beach trips and outings in the car, various photo sessions with three different cameras. Nights spent chatting, handstitching a little felt horse and a new pincushion. Afternoons devouring books found at the beach house; Irish novels by Marian Keyes, one after the other. I read the one about the lass who goes to rehab (rachel's holiday), the one whose husband leaves her with a newborn (watermelon), one about a girl with an alcoholic dad (lucy sullivan is getting married) and another about a woman finding love at the same time her gay friend is sick (last chance saloon). All page turners, with messages.  While the pile of worthy fiction I'd bought with me sat ignored. Although I did start The Sound of One Hand Clapping by Richard Flanagan on the second last day. And kept reading in spare moments once we got home. Even though it's a heartwrenching read. So my reading mojo is back. Which is good because it's been long gone.

There were lots of moments with family, with Mum and Betty and Ruby. During which Grace almost smothered her little cousin with kindness a couple of times and learnt about sharing. Or not. Watching them play in the shallow water at the inlet and then racing to pack up and drive our cars out before high tide. Lots and lots of aunty cuddles, not really ever enough. Lance and Gerard arriving at the weekend. More visitors, a house full of people, easy dinner and lots of wine and talk (mind you half a glass of red knocks me nearly senseless these days). A visit from Dad and Nina and an unexpectedly good boogie board day at the beach. Followed by a visit to my aunty and (step)uncle who live nearby where Grace stayed up until eleven o'clock and was well behaved! 

What else? Playing with Grace in the water. That girl must have veins of ice. There weren't that many days really hot enough for extended swimming. But every time we went to the beach she insisted. I tried to convince her to paddle in her shorts but learnt quickly the best thing was to put her bathers on, let her run around and splish and splosh, pulling her out and wrapping her in a towel once she started to shiver. Sometimes a biscuit in the back of the car was in order. She also loved going out in the surf with me, jumping up to meet the waves with me holding her hands and being tossed about a bit in the shallows (very well supervised of course). Sand castles were a big hit, as was visiting nearby Magic Beach which was easily recognisable from the book by Alison Lester. I bought this book while Christmas shopping and put it away, sneakily packing it in unseen with the other books and toys at the last moment and gosh, what a thrill. It'd be fair to say, I think, that Grace will inherit my love of the water.  She also seems to have grown half a foot and tripled her vocabulary.

I feel like I could have stayed away another week, cocooned in a precious little web of holiday. Not that it was perfect, because we're not, but it's nice to be cooking dinner and looking at ti-tree and going for walks along big open beaches with a changing vista every day. It's good for your head, good for your soul. We're starting to slide back into everyday life again. Although I'm going away for a craft retreat this weekend which I feel absolutely and absurdly excited about. You mean I get to sit around with other women, sew without feeling rude, chat, drink and talk about blogging and craft and heaps of other things?!? And eat yummy food. Oh yes, very excited.

Meanwhile my computer is still having surgery. And G deleted the photo editor I like to use from his which means I feel all at sea photowise. Still, I'm very lucky to be able to go online at all (yes, but you know this time I din't really miss it after the first couple of days, not like last time, but I wanted it as soon as I got home, hmm). And I have just discovered that the flickr editor is pretty easy to use. Still I haven't downloaded or organised most of my photos. Which means that when I get back from the aforesaid weekend of excitement, not only will I have to rouse myself and get back to work but there'll be three weeks of photos to do. Blogging may therefore be a little thin on the ground for a while.  Or not. We'll see.

my bags are packed and...

I should be in bed. We're going down the beach tommorow. So it's been a frantic day as is usual before a big trip. Why do I always think I need to cram in last minute sewing before I go anywhere? But I do and it's done, a new skirt in seventies material I've been obsessing about for ages and just hacked into yesterday, a pillow case sized doll's quilt top to learn to quilt on and three new pairs of new bike shorts in a lovely fine cotton knit for ahem, wearing under skirts. Other larger ladies will know why. The hallway is stacked with suitcases, swimming gear, rainwear, bedding, reading material, craft supplies, camera stuff and a box of toys. There's some basic food supplies to get us started in the kitchen and I'm hoping it all fits in the car, without being too squashy. I really used to hate that as a kid, being wedged in with things under my feet and down the side. Maybe that's why I always feel like I overpack. Which of course I do.

I hope there's still some sunshine left. Summer seems to be leaving us in a hurry this year. Or maybe Melbourne with her fickle weather is just setting out to trick me. Because I always think March is the beginning of the season of the golden light. My favourite really. Just hope there are still some swimming days left.

See you in two weeks. Or so.

holiday mood

Favourite blue t-shirt (almost threadbare from wash after wash), blue sky, feeling like the good bit of summer is here at last. I've got four whole weeks off work. Leave was booked half a year ago and seemed like a long way off for such a long time. Two of these weeks will be spent at the beach where I'll let my eyes devour the utter beauty of the landscape, breathe clean salty air, walk barefoot in the sand, sleep to the sound of the sea behind the dunes, play in the shallows with Grace and swim in the surf. There will also be quiet non-essential sewing, holiday food, reading and afternoon naps. All in the good company of my family in various permutations. And I know my recent low moods aren't anything to worry about because I'm looking forward to it immensely. Only four sleeps to go.

So, the other weekend we put the car in the backyard and Gerard gave it a good clean (mostly with the washing machine water) before sending it off to the mechanics for a service. It was a harder job than he'd planned because water restrictions ban the use of hoses. Personally I would have spent the cash and taken it to a carwash, used the re-cycled water there along with the powerful vacuum cleaners and swish hoses, but anyway it's done and there weren't any dirty car grumbles from our mechanic. I wrote a list of all the little things about the car that were shitting me and they're all fixed. Except the tape player, which expired some months ago. A new CD/USB player is being fitted as I write. And for the first time in ages, I'm looking forward to driving. An unexpected benefit of the change in medication is that I no longer sweat with anxiety while driving. It was so bad for a while, that I banned myself from the car. Now I find myself looking forward to the open road, music playing, Grace looking out the window and talking about what she sees as the blue skies unfold in front of us.

Many more shades of blue here.

 

Holiday

Go swimming in the ocean, overcome your initial fear and catch waves on the boogie board, feel young and exhilarated, wash the salt of in the garden shower next to the dahlias with a nuddy child playing on the lush grass at your feet, eat snacks for dinner, watch LOST, drink beer, walk to the shops, go on the funny flickering internet computer at the fish and chip shop, home along the beach, go to the playground, have Nana naps on the bed that looks out to the sky and into the ti-tree tops, listen to the possums run across the roof at night, dream with the crash of the ocean in your ears, hang out washing, have lunch, clear up, go to the beach again, think too much, go to town, chase Grace around country opshops, make a cake, forget your medication, take too much then sleep too much,  eat breakfast, admire the ti-trees, sit on the deck and drink beer, go endlessly up and down the stairs with Grace, rummage through cupboards as you get to know the kitchen, marvel at how clean the dishwasher gets glasses, argue with G about the merits of dishwashers (among other things), chase crabs,

 

write in a paper diary (I know, weird hey), read a kids book called The Wanderings of Mumfie about that you bought on the way down for $2 (bargain), eat liquorice allsorts from Safeway, take Grace to the beach only to have her turn around and say no the moment she gets over the foreshore, take endless photos of the Nerines in the afternoon light, resolve to finally get a Flikr page going, wear the bathers bought at the last minute over the internet, go swimming with my Dad and Grace, finally she loves it, go swimming with my aunty that used to be a butterfly swimming champion, decide that people are either beach swimmers or not and discover I am not the only one whos' significant other is not, have family barbeques for dinner, hear the same stories about certain family events from several different sources, go visiting, impress my aunties by the way Grace settles down to sleep quickly and without fuss on a strange bed after tearing around like she's been at earthcore for six days straight, listen to the rain and wind through the windows marvelling how solid the house is, go to the Prom with my sister Betty and Cam, watch Grace paddle in Tidal River, have a picnic, test the ruggedness of the stroller on a hilly 6k bushwalk, introduce Grace to Fanta at Squeaky beach (yum, she said swigging the shared bottle, which then had to be hidden from her until the remanants were disposed off - not doing that again),

go to look at the windfarms at Toora, eat chips in the car for lunch and take photos of the seagulls through the car window, hang out at the inlet with my Mum and Lance, get buffetted by the wind, sew a little something at night, invent a new slice recipe one afternoon during nap time,watch more telly than is good for me (when we don't have visitors), watch Dad and Nina' s first documentary effort, provide enthusiastic feedback, go to the playgound, marvel at the crowds and vibe over the long weekend, go touring and discover a new fishermans beach that's a bit odd and a really good secret beach that is shallow calm and sheltered and would be fantastic on a fine day partly because you have to walk 500metres to get there, collect big thick kelp in the stroller to make outdoor sculpture (can I crochet it?) on the one day that there is no hard sand on the beach and Grace doesn't want to walk, enjoy the serenity returning when the long weekend crowds leave eventhough it means your holiday is nearly over too, go to the beach lookout for mobile phone reception and stay for longer than I need, clean the house, pack the car, have a last time at the beach with Grace, forget stuff and go home. It was a lovely holiday.  

***

Regular programming will most likely return next week at some point. I still haven't really caught up with the housework as we've decided to decrapulate our life and clean out the cupboards etc because this house is getting more and more feral by the day and neither of us can stand it anymore . And I've changed my hours and days at work. And I'm still watching too much telly at night. And I haven't even started on the kelp sculpture, it's growing lichen or something in Grace's paddle pool and making our backyard smell like the sea.

My eyes are full of the ocean

I'm trying to hold in my mind everything from our time at the beach this morning. I packed and started the clean while G took Grace to the park. Then while he did the big clean, I took Grace to the beach. For one last time. This holiday anyway. We went light, no bathers just a towell. Grace climbed into the stroller herself saying, beach, beach. As we topped the foreshore hill, there was barely a breeze. Wind being one of the defining factors here. Win. Another new word for Grace. It was glorious on the beach this morning. Warm but not burny, the surf rolling in and crashing neatly and predictably. The tide was out but coming in, I think. It looked perfect for boogie boarding, but we hadn't bought the board or indeed another person to hang with Grace. Oh well. You can't have everything complety perfect all the time.

There was a long beach of shining sand reflecting a puffy little cloud and Grace running towards the water. There was a man and his little girl playing at the edge, his bright red shorts looking amazing against the blue of the sea and the sky. Grace was very excited to see another bubby but they were just about to leave. So we ran into the waves, up to Graces waist. She held my hand or wrapped herself around my legs, shreiking with delight as the waves crashed around her and then receded, the fine sand sucking under our feet. Then she ran aroung in the gleaming shallows, each drop of water falling in a sparkle. I wish I could have sneaked a couple of photos of this so I could see it forever but salt water, sand, cameras and energetic toddlers are not a good mix. And I'd rather have the moment anyway. So I'll show you a couple of photos from the beach, taken on other days and you can kind of get the idea.

To be honest, these pictures don't do this morning justice. Same beach, different light. Different every day, which is quite exciting really. I love this beach. It is so part of my memory of childhood, of holidays. Returning this time was a homecoming of sorts.

I've been trying to hold it all in my mind but already these images are being overwritten by the journey home, opshopping, bad takeaway and the smell of Melbourne traffic. I've more or less unpacked and am waiting for all my photos to download. And for pizza (well, I was but that's done and packed away). Tommorrow looks like being a big day of many loads of washing, and shopping, and catching up and getting my house in order. No doubt I will go on about our holiday a bit more. At least until the re-entry to home world is complete and it's like we were never gone. 

Road trip dreaming

Going back to work tommorow and I'm already thinking of how long it might be before I can take a nice long chunk of leave. I found this at Savers yesterday and almost didn't buy it because we are being overun by books here. But I don't often find anything good about camping, so I'm glad I did.

Published in 1976 by Rigby limited. The front cover alone has me considering the possiblities. We'd need a bigger tent, now we are three. Or maybe we could sleep out under the stars and awake to mornings like this.

Our last road trip was in the winter of 2004. We made the pilgramage to Uluru. We camped in the bush and at road stops along the way. Often we slept in the back of the station wagon.

Other places we pitched the tent and settled in for a few days.

We saw amazing sights everyday, even when we weren't looking. Our pace was slow and we checked out opshops in country towns. I read books and wrote in my diary. Gerard played his guitar. We went for walks and took photos. We did alot of nothing. The camping set up was improved with the addition of some new cooking equipment and a table. We still took too much stuff but got really good at pitching camp and packing up. I wonder if a road trip could be fun with Grace?

My life in pictures

Over the last day or so, I've been sorting through & albumising my photos. The last time I did this must have been sometime in 2000, as there were pics from our Tasmanian odyssey in summer 2000/01. It was a fantastic trip but few of the photos do it justice. Except for this one,

taken on the road to nowhere on the West Coast. This is an isolated 3 or 4 hour drive through the Tarkine Wilderness & the Western Arthurs from Savage river, where we camped by the river near blackberry bushes that were home to many big black snakes, to Marawah in the windy north west. I like this picture because it says so much about our life then. The humbleness of our car, the roughness of the road & how happy I look. That was a fabulous trip, visiting friends & family of G in Hobart, lots of little road trips & the nine day West Coast adventure.

Later photos & road trips have a degree of sadness about them. There's pictures from the south coast of NSW in 2002, several months after we lost our son (at 20 weeks). I was pregnant again when we left, miscarried on the way, pregnant again when we got home at Christmas only to loose that pregnancy too. Then there's the photos from the family reunion in spring 2003, new job, yet another pregnancy loss.

Understandably there are some gaps until the next big trip in 2005. We were recovered & happy again so I took 6 weeks of work & we did the big central Australia trip. That was so much fun! Uluru is so worth visiting it's hard to explain. It really is as awesome as the pictures & so much more besides. Many other places were great too. The pictures hardly do them justice. Actually, very few of them do, I think I need to learn a bit more about how to get the colours to come out right. But the story of our trip in pictures reminds me of all the good things in our life & that we came home pregnant with Grace. Not even trying to. Just shows what a change of scenery, fresh air & relaxed lovin' can do, even with old farts like us.

Next will be sorting through the photos from just before and after Grace was born. This I am looking forward to. Grace loves it when I sort photos on the big coffee table in the lounge, lots of discard photos to scatter, books to flick through, stuff to grab. Thankfully she wasn't as clingy today, hopefully it is not just because it is the weekend & we are both around. The photos have already got me thinking about going camping again. We considered it last summer, but just couldn't organise it. Camping with a small child, hmmm... We must be crazy but I've heard it can be done.