head for the hills

cabin fever

Sick kids. Bleugh. Horrible on so many levels. Firstly, nobody wants their children to feel unwell, and when they're *really* sick, the worry and fear is overwhelming. I particularly hate the part where they run high temperatures and are just not quite themselves. Edie was like this for a while on Wednesday night, along with vomiting, coughing, and persistent bed-wetting (though I think that was just thrown in for good measure). Now Jude is sick too, with a cough and general grumpiness. Both are getting better, but still the sickness lingers, keeping us from our usual routines. We're half-way back to normal, their symptoms have dwindled to just plain annoying, rather than particularly troubling. The broken sleep and wasted meals are starting to grate, and we can't get out as much as I'd like to. But that's just me, cranky at having to miss my swim, guilty at having Edie home from Munchkins and not doing anything more special than hunting bugs and lizards, sitting in the sun and watching old Patsy Biscoe videos. Then I feel guilty about being cranky and the cycle begins again.

Crayons are always a good circuit-breaker.

We've been pretty busy, though. There was a wedding in Mosman, and the kids were looked after by Uncle Davey and Uncle Bradley. They had a blast. So did we. It was very exciting to go out and have adult conversation for a whole evening, to take in the beautiful views from the pointy end of the north shore, to dress up, to drink lovely wine and eat beautiful food. To be part of an event.

Speaking of events, we had a double-header recently with the Hawkesbury Show and Foundation Day back-to-back. We love both of these, for their lack of pretension, lack of hassle and hype, and abundance of fun. Dual highlights of Foundation Day for me this year were the parade (I always love a parade - bagpipes! kids! giant mascots! kids! dancing kids! cars! dogs! kids! bagpipes!), and the devonshire tea in the church hall. This is no ordinary devonshire tea. No, ordinary devonshire tea is the sort of muck they serve up at coffee chains, like Gloria Jeans, where you get a tea bag in a paper cup, a rock-hard scone on a plastic plate, microwaved if you're lucky, with a plastic packet of gummy jam and some flavourless sprayed-out, propelled by god-knows-what, cream from a can. Appalling. No, in the church hall on Foundation Day you get huge, fluffy scones, made by a proud, stout lady in an apron; home-made jam from a jar (apricot, mulberry, strawberry), and the cream...whipped by hand. Not even an electric beater in sight. The sound of hand beaters and the buzz of local news fills the hall. The tea is loose leaf, in pots, naturally. The milk in a small jug. Cups don't match, but all have saucers. All on a tray. Real teaspoons in jars on the tables. Which have tablecloths. Perfect. A winning formula. If the ladies from the church ran a regular devonshire tea in the hall I'd be in trouble with a scone habit, but they'd certainly be in business. At $4.50 a serve it was well worth it though.

We followed this up with a trip to Windsor for the Hawkesbury Show. We don't bother with the Royal Easter Show. Too hard, too expensive. Too much of everything. The Hawkesbury Show has it all, as far as I'm concerned. All a show needs is a good selection of cake competitions, handicrafts, a flower show, kids craft displays of vegetables shaped like people, enormous pumpkins, pony rides, sideshow alleys filled with noisy rides and scary carnies, rip-off showbags, a petting zoo and loads of animals.

The teacup ride was wildly anticipated this year. It lived up to its promise and we had it all to ourselves. We're pretty tame when it comes to rides. Not a big fan of those sorts of thrills. I'm much more a fan of the prize-winning dahlias:

The kids loved it all, especially having the opportunity to pat the snakes in the reptile enclosure. We bought them a showbag each. For the past two years running I've flukily managed to make a profit on the showbags by being given extra change. No such luck this year. Edie chose a generic 'totally girl' showbag, which was filled with all sorts of plastic pap, including an oversized zipper that I think was supposed to hang from a mobile phone. She soon discarded the doll, the stickers, the tattoos, the lip gloss, and carried around her 'cable' for days, until the morning she wanted to take it along for show-and-tell, and then of course we couldn't find it, prompting a total melt-down. It's still missing. Jude was satisfied with a $2 Bertie Beetle showbag. Chocolate beetles = happy boy.

We are now gearing up for their 3rd and 5th birthdays, and a joint party this weekend. Mum arrives tomorrow for general company and support with the proceedings. She's also part of the Winmalee Autumn Artfest. This time of year is always imprinted in my mind as baby-time, having had both children within three days of each other in early May. It's a time to remember and savour each day. Bim has just had a birthday and I am considering a career change, looking at finishing up at my organisation after thirteen years.

I am just putting one foot in front of the other, trying to build and maintain my confidence every day at a time when change is everywhere. Can I move from the arts industry to the health industry? Am I too old? Can I handle the physical demands? Can I commit to the study? Shall I jump and ask questions later? We'll see...

dinosaurs, curtains & sinéad o'connor

Okay, so I'm procrastinating. I'm getting close to a deadline for a big project and therefore I naturally find numerous other things to do before I can get on with it. So here goes.

We don't get out as much as we'd like to. There are many reasons, but often it just comes down to time and logistics. With Bim working night shift a couple of nights a week, as well as Sundays, we don't have much opportunity to go places that require a full day out. Our Saturdays are sort of precious, and we use them to do things low-key, close to home, as a family, to capitalise on that weekend-feeling a lazy Saturday brings. So when we found we'd blocked out a full day and night earlier this week, so that we could go to the Sinead O'Connor concert, a world of possibilities opened up.

We made the trip into the city in the morning and first stopped by my office. It's a tall beige building in Surry Hills. Lots of windows. No soul to speak of. A travesty, really, given the mandate of the organisation within. Since we moved there, I've felt the creative heart of the place slowly atrophy. Anyway, our visit coicided with the Easter Bake-Off, so we arrived to see covetable cakes being auctioned off in a flurry of activity. The kids charmed their way around the building, and when we'd had enough we headed up to Crown Street for a spot of vintage shopping. We'd hoped to find a suit for Bim to wear to a wedding in April, but we didn't have any luck.

Next stop...

We fluked another park on the street and ate our lunch in the museum cafe before heading on in to see the dinosaurs. It was all going so well, Edie was really excited, declaring one of the dinosaurs to be her most favourite dinosaur ever, when ROOOAAARRRRRR!!!! The sound-effects kicked in. The life-sized animation of a dinosaur stampede delivered on its promise to instil fear and panic. Yup, get me out of here, I want to leave NOW. I have to get out of here now. Please, now....we could hear the panic in her voice, saw the fear written all over her little face. But with a bit of ear-covering, a bit of cuddling, and a lot of coaxing (c'mon, we didn't drive all the way into the city for nothing), we all appreciated the wonders of the exhibition.

We drove back to Uncle Davey's, settled the kids in with Corrine and Persia, our trusty baby-sitters, frocked up, and headed right back in, to the State Theatre, in the heart of the city. Being a Virgo, I like to have things ordered and organised wherever I can, so I had my trusty folder, carefully labelled, and filled with maps and parking instructions, venue information and tickets. It all went smoothly. I like to put that down to my folder, but it probably would have gone smoothly anyway. Parking in the city was easy. The State Theatre is nothing short of spectacular, and Sinéad?

Sublime. So good I even bought a t-shirt. From the thrilling opening number, The Emperor's New Clothes, to the encore highlight, Black Boys on Mopeds, she totally rocked.  Really delivered. Unassuming in blue jeans and a white shirt. Bare feet. Bald head. The set included I am Stretched on Your Grave, Never Get Old, Three Babies, Fire on Babylon, Nothing Compares 2 U, The Last Day of Our Acquaintance and Mandinka. I saw her at the Albert Hall in London in 1990, and she was great, and I was excited about it, but this was more of an *experience*.

I felt so inspired that the next day, after driving back home, that instead of going to the gym, I finally made the sheer curtains I've been meaning to do for months, for the kids' room. Actually I was feeling pretty tired, and I have a bit of a chest infection so I'm avoiding the gym for a few days, but I *did* feel re-energised after my 24 hours in the city. And definitely inspired.

There's nothing like pink glittery stars to really get the creative fires burning...

A world away from passionate Irish punk / folk / funk but this universe is still pretty good.

piss-weak productions presents...

...this blog.

Self-flagellation aside, things have been very busy. I've started to adapt to the idea that busy is the new idle and I should just get over it, accept it, and get more organised. Actually, haven't I been promising myself I'd get more organised for some time? Perhaps I should learn to listen better.

February flew by, with March hot on its heels. The Easter Bunny is on his way, and I haven't even recovered from the full-fat extravaganza that was Christmas. It's time to take stock.

Right now I am working at a second job, a volunteer job, and a (hopefully) hard-ass gym regime. Edie and Jude are four and two, rapidly approaching five and three, with a birthday party to be planned. This should be fun. Correction. This *will* be fun. We are hiring a face painter. Nothing fancy, mind you. A pre-teen daughter of friends of friends. We'll borrow the same bubble machine we used when they turned three and one, we'll mow the lawn and trim the edges, bake a cake and some pretty treats, send some invites, take a step back, and let the fun begin. And continue. For the two hours clearly stipulated on the invitation. Otherwise the combined effects of too much sugar and too many kids may prove devastating. We've all seen how good kids parties can turn bad. It's when they go for thirty minutes too long, and it all falls to pieces. Before we know it the kids have turned to violence and tears and the adults have turned to gin and tonic.

So there's party planning to be done.

I'd love to get away to Melbourne for a weekend in April if it's in any way possible. Sam turned 40 in January and I've promised I'll celebrate in person. I just need to meet a big deadline before I can even think about it. The whole family had hoped for a trip to South Australia and Victoria in April too, but it's just not looking possible. The things we thought we'd be able to manage, just with a bit of planning, are falling by the wayside already. Perhaps that's because we *didn't* plan them. Or *haven't* planned them. Anyway, that trip isn't completely off the agenda, but the deadline issue is currently obscuring it.

In the meantime, the kids are eating their way through a huge box of Riverland oranges, hand-delivered by Grandma and Grandpa:

It's not quite as good as being there, but it helps.

I'm pleased to report that on the eating front, things are looking up. The other night Edie ate a mung bean, a piece of lettuce and some carrot. Jude is into the mung beans and lettuce too, and he's always been a carrot eater. So all those months of presenting salad on their plates *could* be paying off. They love grilled fish and salad, and I'm loving the easiness of this sort of meal. It makes life so much easier.

We had a house meeting a few nights ago and gave the kids the opportunity to suggest some new meals they'd like to try. Edie is keen for me to start cooking spaghetti bolognese. I've tried to cook it before, but since I don't eat red meat I'm not sure I'm getting the balance of ingredients right. I'll keep trying. The meeting was a huge success and we'll repeat it every so often. We had a set agenda, covering bed-time, meals, outings, and any other business. Edie used the any other business segment to tell us how much she likes Jude. It was a very productive meeting.

We *did* manage to get away to the beach for a couple of nights at the start of February. Although it rained for part of it, and the park's wireless got wiped out in a huge storm, we still managed a magical time. We really must do it again...

Jude, Bim, Ruby and Edie Toowoon Bay in the rain Feb 2008

 

best dental patient ever

The kids have had their first dental appointment. They did so well. For months I've been freaking out about their teeth, worried that I wasn't cleaning them well enough, that they'd end up with decay and rotten teeth and it would be all my fault. So I made an appointment for the dentist. I rang in November and they could fit us in in February. It seemed like forever but the date was soon upon us. All revved up, excited in fact, they climbed the many steps to Dr Roza's clinic.

Edie went first, dutifully obeying all instructions, in the way little kids do when they're desperate to impress. Her teeth were checked, counted, cleaned and declared absolutely fine. By the end of Edie's turn Jude decided he wanted nothing to do with the whole experience. We were ushered out of the office and back to the waiting room while Jude's room was prepared. Edie was presented with a lurid pink Tweety Bird sticker saying 'I'm a great patient' (or words to that effect), and that was enough. Jude was now chomping at the bit to get into that chair and earn himself a sticker too. He ran to the consulting room, and, just like his sister before him, obediently opened wide, donned the dark sunnies, and lay back to let the dentist do her stuff. He was wonderful, and Dr Roza declared him her best two-year old patient ever.

It was a proud moment. The stickers now haphazardly adorn our car windows. Not so proud of that, but it's a reminder of how good they *can* be. Especially when there's a hot pink Loony Tunes sticker at stake.

fun with gloop, Jan 08.

first day

Jude had his first day of preschool last week. Two nights before we presented him with his new backpack. Naturally, he wore it to eat his dinner.

It stayed in place all evening, and at one stage he was so excited he didn't know what to do, so he covered his face with his hands, jumped up and down for a while, then came over to me and kissed me on the hand. It was such a beautiful, unselfconscious reaction. He didn't stop moving, not even to clean his teeth, and the backpack was eventually surgically removed for sleeping.

Edie didn't mind Jude having a new backpack. She made do with the same Hairy Maclary backpack that has now seen her through the past two years. And my how she's grown...here she is on her first day last week...

Last year....

And on her first day ever....

And here they both are on Jude's first day...

Jude cried when I dropped them off on Wednesday. I knew he would, despite being very familiar with the place, and being *so* excited about going. I knew the reality would set in just as I was walking out the door. And it did. I felt terrible, so I rang later on, and sure enough he was having a fantastic time. When I picked them up I had to drag him away from the games and puzzles. Edie is now going to preschool three days per week, up from two last year. I wouldn't mind it being less, but the reality of school will set in next year and I want her to be prepared for the five days per week involved in that.

When I got home from work on Thursday night she was packing her ponies and her favourite sequinned dress-up frock into a tiny case. She was leaving home, moving in with Uncle Davey, because we send her to preschool too often.

Talk about parental guilt.

the family outing

Last week we took the kids into the city for the first time ever. They've been wanting to go to the museum for months, especially Edie, who has a real interest in science and nature. The afternoon beforehand, following an extended period of water play on the front porch, both kids picked out clothes they wanted to wear for the excursion. The evening beforehand, Edie and I pored over the Australian Museum website. Edie then gave Jude a thorough briefing on what to expect, and once both kids were in bed I wrote lists in readiness. In the morning Bim was first up and by the time I was up he'd packed the bags according to my lists. Brilliant!

All set.

We managed to fluke a park right out the front, and headed straight in. The kids by now were so excited, it was infectious. And it was all so easy. There was an exhibition of huge-scale portraits of gorilla faces, which transfixed us all. Jude, in particluar, loved this one, he went back to it three times. The primate portraits show 30 orphans, and each photo is labelled with the animal's name, age and story. The stories are quite affecting, as any orphan stories are, I suppose, only these are stories are about the brutality of humans, and the impact things like the live meat trade have had on these lovely creatures.

On we went to the skeletons, where a very friendly Indian lady took a moment to stroke both kids' blonde curls and pinch and kiss Jude's cheeks. I thought for a moment she was going to take them home with her. A museum guide held a shell to their ears and explained about the sound of the sea inside, before moving onto a frightening spider display. We meandered through the mineral and rock exhibitions - both kids love rocks of all kinds and they were fascinated by this. Then we hit the mother lode - the insect collection. They adored this, and Jude just wanted to bolt up and down the rows of light cabinets filled with butterflies, spiders, cicadas, cockraches, bees and other creepy crawlies, while Edie took longer to ponder and question.

Two hours later it was time for lunch, so we headed to the museum cafe and the kids ate their way through their lunchbox, finishing off with a shared icecream...

We spent another hour discovering all sorts of things, before venturing to the museum shop, Edie clutching her Dora the Explorer purse and deliberating between the dinosaur puppets and the magic growing lizards. In the end the lizards won out. They start out small, about four centimetres long, and you put them in water for a couple of days and they triple their size. Let them dry out and they shrink again. Jude threw his over the front veranda as soon as they grew big. He didn't want much to do with the big lizards.

We left the museum and took a walk through Hyde Park, before heading for home. We didn't even really look at the parts of the museum that are set up especially for kids. We'll save that for next time. We were home before 4, Jude had a decent nap, and we all had a great day out. I'm almost too scared to do it again because it went so well!

time

There's never enough of it.

Auntie Rosie died today. Yes, she was old, but it was really sudden. She took a bad turn and her heart just stopped. I suppose she ran out of time. In hearing the news, I missed a TV show I was looking forward to. No time for that either. Now I have only 34 minutes of battery time left on my laptop so it looks like my blogging time will run out soon. I also have to write some birthday thoughts down for Sam's 40th on the 12th, and I must get them in the post tomorrow, or I'll run out of time for them to reach him. I haven't been sleeping well this week, so if I don't get to bed soon I'll regret it. But I need more time to do the things I need to do. Where do I get it?

Sometimes I have to buy time if I want to do anything just for me. That includes things like going to the gym. I pay for the class, I pay for the creche and I pay a bit of guilt as well. It would be perfect if I could just pay a pound of flesh and be done with it.

Actually I'd be happy to pay with ten kilos of flesh because that's what I've added to my frame in the past six months. Admittedly, it's been a period of great upheaval; buying a house, moving, my work totally sucking the bag. But I'm not interested in the excuses. I'm back on the wagon, especially as far as bread and cheese is concerned, and I'm reacquanting myself with my 'off switch', which comes in handy when I walk past the jar of almonds and take just a few more...then a few more. Then, oh well, I've been exercising a lot lately, so I think I need a few more....well, no more!

But on the time thing, I just seem to need to constantly schedule and program myself in order to achieve the most mundane outcomes. For instance, tomorrow, I've made an appointment with myself to make an appointment for a haircut. I haven't had a haircut since last September but I can't seem to find the time to even pick up the phone and call the hairdresser unless I make a specific point of scheduling it in. It's ridiculous. It's not even that I'm completely crazily busy, I just seem to have some sort of paralysis when it comes to using up my time. Silly. I find it hard to even commit to watching a movie on dvd at home because it takes a whole 3 hours, during which I could be doing four or five other things at once.

I should learn from the kids. This year is supposed to be about slowing down to their pace, and to do so I need to lose this silly fear I have about using up blocks of time, because it takes time to do the things they want to do.

This afternoon we were hanging out at home, when Edie decided to dress up as a fairy. In full fairy regalia - dress, wings, wand, gold slippers; hair festooned with a januty ribbon in lieu of lost tiara - she danced around the house, until I realised it might be fun for her to have an adventure outside in her fairy getup. So we grabbed Jude and the dog and set off to the park. It was only a 45 minute outing but it was magical. Edie adored every minute, commenting along the way about how we were in fairyland. We all took turns spotting interesting things along the footpath, picking flowers, blowing dandelions, making wishes and daydreaming. When we got to the park it was already past 5.00pm and I had their dinner on my mind but I put it to one side and the three of us (and Ruby) ran up and down the hills pretending to fly. The prize for the whoever made it to the bottom first was that they were allowed to do yoga, but we all ended up striking a dog, cat and cobra pose because it's just good fun.

This evening when I put her to bed, she whispered I love you more than the whole world.

unpacking

We spent all afternoon unpacking the mysterious boxes that have filled our shed for the past five months. For the kids, it was like Christmas all over again, such was their joy at rediscovering old favourites. For the grown-ups, it was fun because it was relaxed, and it felt great because we put a pile of stuff aside for a garage sale soon and found homes for some of our old favourites. It's nice to see my tea cup collection again. It was also a chance to look at old photos, so I'll leave you with this classic from 1987, taken in the Creswell Flats at St Mark's College in Adelaide. We were drinking some hideous 1980s style cocktails, it was the first year of university, and I was sporting a very bleached and pretty shaggy perm. I still love this photo, even if I regret the hair. As for the white windcheater, well, the less said the better. And could that be a coral necklace? Probably.

L-R: Krissie, Katie and Fran.

ikea: never again

It all began optimistically, with a sense of purpose and direction. It ended badly, with me being weed on by a four year old by the side of the M4 motorway just out of Penrith.

We've been saying for months that a trip to Ikea would help our storage woes. Not that our woes are many, just that we had this idea wherein the promise of Ikea's storage solutions would suddenly help us achieve our organisational dreams. So off we set, measurements in hand, and a vague idea of where to go, expecting good signage and easy access.

After driving aimlessly around the old olympic site for thirty minutes, and asking directions from men in fluoro jackets who thought they might have heard of Ikea, I put in a mercy call to Amber, who gave good directions, which we subsequently misinterpreted. So we drove to Bicentennial Park, which would have been a better option, given the outcome of the day, and sought further directions there. About two hours after we left home, at around five-minutes-to-naptime, we hit Ikea, well, the car-park. We circled hopefully, but in the end parked in a staff car-park. There were hundreds of them so we took a chance, which was a good call, really. We could still be circling now.

Not long after leaving the car we encountered jostling crowds elbowing their way through the Ektorps, and feelings of futility started to set in. What were we doing here anyway? Nothing seemed to fit our measurements and the kids were getting rattier by the second. Using various combinations of trolley/pusher/hand-holding/free-reign/carrying/dummy/ignoring the cries and attempts to reach zen-like levels of detatchment, we made our way through the maze. By the end we managed to buy two packets of coathangers, and some magazine racks for Amber, whom I thank whole-heartedly for giving my Ikea trip a sense of purpose and achievement.

We are happy now that we are home and have catalogues to look at, the cricket on the telly, and a gin and tonic in each hand.

wednesday

I love Wednesdays. In the past it's been dominated by Mothers' Group but that's died down a little, and I've been more sporadic in my attendance since having Jude. Also, Bim now works night shift on Wednesdays and is home during the day. I segue into Wednesday with a relaxing Tuesday night, usually a face-pack, a little bit of reading, and an early night. This morning it was my turn to sleep in so I was up at the very civilised hour of 8.00am. Brilliant. We had no food in the house, bar two slices of bread and enough milk for a milo for Jude. The kids shared a sandwich and some cruskits for breakfast, I wrote a list and Bim headed off to shop for groceries. I got ready and went to the 10.30am Body Pump class. I'm trying to get back into the habit of three classes per week. So far I'm on track. I went on Saturday morning, and I'll go on Friday morning too. At least that's the plan. I don't know if it's just that I'm getting progressively weaker, or that I'm putting more into it, but Pump just seems to be getting harder at the moment. I'm sure I'll improve once I get back into routine.

By the time we got home Bim had unpacked all the groceries and was painting the gate that he's recently relocated. I had time for a quick shower before Mari and Chris arrived, bearing bags of goodies to keep the kids entertained. They usually bring books and a few other treats for the little people, who would love them anyway, but all the more so for the stories. We had a great big salad and some pide for lunch, then Mari, Edie and I took a stroll back to the pool so Edie could buy an icey pole with her own money.

Now Bim's at work, and the kids are watching a video of fabulous old Sesame Street songs. Time for me to put the pasta on, then join them on the couch.

Now that I've managed to clear the house of all the Christmas chocolate we've had lying about, I am craving sweet things. While I doggedly stick to my glass of water, I offer you this picture of the Christmas pavlova I made this year.

One of the beaters from my electric mixer mysteriously disappeared after I made this. I only realised when I was mid-way through making the creme patissiere for a roast nectarine tart a week later. Fortunately said mixer still operates with one beater, but it's extremely annoying. The pavlova, on the other hand, was terrific. And the tart was truly sublime.

2008

I can't say the new year went off with a bang. Rather, it went off with a snooze on the couch, dragging myself to bed before 11 and leaving poor Bim alone to drink champagne and watch the tail end of The Graduate. We've had an abundance of parties and visitors. For the most part it's been enjoyable, but by this stage I'm totally knackered, sick of eating and drinking and in need of a big sleep.

Usually I try to write copious lists and plans on New Year's Eve, but since I was so tired, I didn't make a start. As always, there is work to be done this year. So far the list looks like this:

• Finish making the curtains
• Cook better meals for the kids
• Eat more fruit and vegetables
• Write a good list
• Blog more regularly
• Balance my exercise regime better
• Take more care with what I eat
• Relax more
• Be more organised
• Don't worry so much about work
• Slow down to the kids' pace more often
• Finish unpacking
• Sell or give away our excess stuff
• Make the most of this year, the last year before Edie hits the school system

These are somewhat vague, and need more tightening up, more specificity, some deadlines. Bloody hell, I can hear the project manager in me talking. Perhaps I should listen.

Christmas was fun, the kids had a wonderful time. The adults had a total rip-snorter. We managed a bushwalk in the middle of the day, complete with leeches. The pav was a sensation, Mum (a non-prawn eater) undertook her annual family-seafood-service and peeled two kilos of prawns so we didn't have to go to the extra trouble of doing so on Christmas Day. We all ate and drank far too much (well, Mum drank a fair bit of tea, and the kids had lashings of apple and blackcurrant juice). The tree was taken down this morning and we're loving the extra space in the lounge room. I'm being called by little people, so I'll leave you with a picture and a promise to do this more often. Oh, and a happy new year!

Edie's favourite gift, a stretchy purple snake. Never mind the carefully thought out tea-set, bug catcher and dinosaur puzzle, this is still the first thing she remembers when people ask what she received.

first of the season

Nine days of rain has brought abundance to the garden. On the downside, the cherries have grown so enthusisatically they've split their skins, Incredible Hulk-style. They are delicious none-the-less, but we would have loved to have left them on the tree a little longer, and had there not been so much rain we would have been able to pick them more gradually. But I'm not complaining, it's a big treat to be able to eat cherries from our own tree. Next up will be peaches, then figs. Then the mysterious citrus, which seem to be shaping up to be an orange and a lime. Perhaps a lemon and a lime. I'd prefer a lemon and a lime. But, hey, what the heck - it's my house, if I want a lemon or a lime I'll plant one!

Melbourne Cup Day was spent at home this year. Bim entertained thoughts of going to Rose Hill, but then we realised that if the rain didn't spoil things, the horse flu certainly had anyway, so that was out. We opted for hat-making and family sweeps. I was completely unlucky in all three sweeps I went in, but I had fun making hats. The kids had a blast. But they didn't *quite* grasp the concept of watching the races on telly for most of the day. Bim, being a Victorian by birth, sees this as his constitutional right. They just kinda don't get it. I don't really either, but if there's a party with hats, finger food and champagne, I can get on board.

We are off to South Australia this weekend, for ten days with the Grandparents. It's an impromptu trip, I saw the opportunity and went for it. Edie is counting down the days on our family whiteboard. The whiteboard is the hub of our household. It's where we write our plans and reminders. And it's where I do some of my best (and worst) artwork.

So, to South Australia. Land of the big (yet dwindling) Lake Bonney, home of the Big Orange, Fruchocs, Crusta Orange & Mango Juice, and Farmers Union Iced Coffee. I'll be swimming in the lake every day, I hope. So will the kids. I plan on reading a book, sprawling on the front lawn, and forgetting about the rest of the world for ten days.

I'll leave you with this one of Jude, in his Cup Day creation:

Master of the glitter glue. Favourite colour: green.

the end is nigh

The end of the year is in sight. This is good news, because it brings holidays with it, and this year we're not travelling, we're staying home and appreciating what we have. We're sharing it with family, and we hope to see friends we usually miss at this time of the year.

It's been a long, tough year. It's been our highest and our lowest year yet. We finally bought a house, and we adore it. But Bim's Mum died, and my work has never sucked so badly. Change is always hard for me. It's not as good as a holiday, it's as good as being dragged naked through a prickly shrubbery. But once I'm on the other side, even if it's just mentally, I'm fine. Moving house was a bloody nightmare, from which we are still recovering, but we have acheived things I didn't even dare think about.

The kids and I are off to South Australia soon. I'm not as nervous about the journey as I was last time. Jude is twelve months older. On the negative side, this means we pay a full adult airfare for him, but on the positive side we are guaranteed a seat for him, with all its entitlements. This, I hope, will include earphones and a kiddie kit. Usually featuring five coloured pencils and a sharpener. It does the trick for at least twenty minutes. Then they will be served a meal that'll last another 20, which leaves only about...ooh, 80 minutes of flying time and 240 minutes of driving time. This is going to involve a lot of snacks, and imagination. But I'm up for it. Anything's got to be easier than the mindless strategising I've been doing for work. The goalposts are shifting all the time and my head can't keep up. But that's another story.

My new computer is all set up. The only problem I have now is that, compared with my old Toshiba laptop's rickety blank but very sensitive keys, I have to bang the absolute crap out of the Dell to make my words happen. I'll get used to it. Apart from that, it appears to be a total legend, and I'm loving the wirelessness of it all. We also love having the dual lap-top thing going on.

I am working on the photo side of the situation. The webcam might help, but at least I have now been able to load my photos direct to my computer, without having to visit Dave (thanks honey) to download my latest. I'm still not into the land of spontaneity, but I'm getting closer.

I leave you with this, it's a recently befriended cicada. These are everywhere at the moment. Jude brought all his creepy-crawlies out to the front porch to chat. Here we have the insect sewing circle. Minus the sewing, of course.

progress

I have finally finished a major report for work, and having that monkey off my back has unlocked something in me that has been holding back on so many other things. The house is coming together beautifully. I've started unpacking boxes of books and am amazed at how little shelf space a boxful takes up. It's good for the soul to see those boxes emptied. Bim has been working hard to clear some of the furniture and general detritus from the front porch and the overall effect is uplifting. I'd forgotten we had such a lovely space out there. After having furtniture piled on it for months I'd taken for granted that it would always look like a tip. I'd just blocked it out. Now I can enjoy it.

The new computer is still hiding under the bed, but I've booked some help to get it set up and networked on Friday. The dentist is booked, the doctor is booked, the insurance is sorted, the dry cleaning is collected, the washing is put away, the bills are paid, presents are in the mail, new lists written. Hell, I've even painted my toenails. Now it's time to look out the window.

Dave and Brad bought me a subscription to Who Weekly for my birthday. Best. Gift. Ever. I get home from Body Pump at 10.30 on a Friday morning, and it's waiting for me in the letterbox. Lately I've been the only one home at that time and I make myself a cup of tea, curl up in a sunny spot and read the mag in a post-pump glow. It's a truly delicious moment. And then I get on with my work. Speaking of my birthday:

The kids are well. Jude didn't end up getting the chicken pox, thankfully. Right now they are playing doctors. Edie is the doctor. Jude makes a reasonably compliant patient. I have had to start buying the bulk boxes of plain bandaids. We keep the Sesame Street bandaids for genuine injuries.

Yesterday the little fella was stung by a bee, and is still talking about how he cried and fell over and I came running. Indeed that's true. I was carrying towels and shampoo, ready to wash the dog, and when I saw him go down like a sack of spuds (a screaming one), I was so worried. I threw everything down and raced to him. My first thought was a spider, because as you know, I'm terrified of Funnelwebs. We don't have a spidery garden here, though. But then my thoughts turned to bees, and sure enough, there was the sting, stuck in his little foot. Bim is allergic to bees, so I didn't know what to expect. But he was fine. I kept a close eye on him, but there was no reaction. Actually I think it's on subsequent exposures that any major reactions occur. He does have a big swollen red spot, but no pain or itching or other symptoms.

Edie is sporting a big bruise on her cheek after being whacked in the face by a bag with a vigorously swinging Buzzy on the other end. I seem to have acquired a tennis elbow, either through Body Pump, pram pushing, or mouse use. It isn't too bad, but I am trying to press on the point where it's most painful, as I've heard that will help. I don't know if it has. Bim has started cycling on the exercise bike in the evenings when he's on night shift, and promises to come to pump classes with me soon.

On the Body Pump front, I've signed up for a Body Pump challenge on Sunday. It's a 90 minute class. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but after this morning's class, which was *so* tough, I wonder what I've let myself in for. How much more grunt and sweat can they cram into an extra 30 minutes? A whole lot, I imagine. Still, I feel compelled to do it.

As of Friday, if all goes well, my new computer will be set up, which will mean I'll be able to download new photos. My printer will be networked, which will mean I'll be able to scan old photos (once I find them). I'm hoping this will open the door to a whole new world of regular blogging. Was it last November that people (except me) committed to post every day? Is that happening again? Anyone know?

Incrementally, we are getting there. And with every little step, it gets a bit easier, and a bit more comfortable. Fortunately we have happy little people to make the journey less tiresome.

And sometimes a glass of good red helps a whole lot too.

in between days

Jude is napping, Edie is at preschool. There is so much to do in this precious ninety minutes (and counting). I don't know where to begin. Five loads of washing need to be put away. A banana cake needs to be baked. I've lost the recipe again. Dishes are to be washed and dried and put away. Miscellaneous piles of papers and toys to be sorted, put away and stacked. For a nanosecond I thought I might even try to program the VCR but now I realise that's just insane.

We are loving the new digs, but still feel like we're treading water. Things are coming together slowly. The yellow room; our office / sunroom is finished and has already housed two visitors. Sam came from Melbourne for a week, which was wonderful, hectic, exhausting and enlivening. Persia and Josh stayed overnight and I was reminded how special it is to have family nearby. I've watched Persie grow up from a tiny newborn into a gorgeous 15 year old, and now I'm welcoming her sweet boyfriend Josh into our home too. The kids adore them both, and now that Persia is independent enough to be able to get here, even though it took three trains (bloody trackwork), we hope to be able to see more of her. Perhaps even a spot of babysitting. Not that we're desperate. Actually, we are pretty desperate for a babysitter. I'll add it to the list.

Edie had Chicken Pox last week, despite having been immunised for it. Fortunately the vaccine limited her case to a very mild dose. She had the spots, but no fever or illness. The spots were small, and not as horrible as I've heard the poxy spots can be. She's over them now, but the week of pox-imposed quarantine was tricky for us all. I missed going to the pool and the gym, and rather than being careful and eating healthily I went bezerk, eating far too much bread, cheese and chocolate. A recipe for disaster. This week I'm back on track, went to Body Pump last night and swam 80 laps this morning. Later today Jude and I will walk into town to meet Edie and Bim for dinner. It'll be nice not to have to cook. I'm not sure whether this is just the eye of the storm. By my calculations Jude should be coming out in spots on Sunday.

A big deadline looms at work. I'm trying not to let it colour my week. I don't want my week to be all about work. Not until I'm actually working. Then I'll get stuck right in and knock this report over as quickly as I can. Until then it's off limits.

I am obsessively hunting for curtains for the kids bedroom, after Jude asked me to turn the light off at 5.30am. Mate, if I could turn the sun off, I would, if it meant just another hour of sleep. Curtains will be the next best thing. As will daylight saving.

I'm looking forward to daylight saving. On Thursday nights I hike home, up a huge windy hill, in the dark, with my Winnie the Pooh torch to light the way, and my bag, containing ten kilograms worth of must-read paperwork. It only takes 20 minutes, but they are hard slog. Every one of them. To be able to do this in daylight will make a big difference. I don't mind the walk. I appreciate the exercise. But I have to admit, it is an obstacle sometimes when it comes to walking into town. I don't do it all that often because I know how hard it is to get back up to the top of this hill. I love living on top of a hill, though. The view is splendid.

I'm sorting out my technology. The computer is being built and is due in a week. Thanks to Josh I've worked out that I was trying to scroll my iPod the wrong way. How embarrassing. I had one of those cringe-worthy moments where a teenager looks askance at me for being technologically bereft. I thought I was the one supposed to be looking askance at the technologically bereft. Pah, I was outmoded years ago. Now I like to use being old skool as my excuse. And I'm sticking to it. But the fact that it pains me to spell it skool and not school gives me away totally. Anyway, now that I've overcome that simple obstacle I no longer despise my new toy. I love it. Once my computer is smart enough to be able to speak to my iPod I'm sure we'll all get along famously.

I see we have only ten weeks until Christmas. That does not frighten me. I won't be thinking much about gifts, but more about the enjoyment of the season. I've had four weeks' leave approved. Bring it on.

We are watching the garden bloom, and the chooks now have their own home in the corner, no more free ranging every day, which means we can reclaim the yard. Sunday is watering day, before 10 and after 4, of course.

It seems we have two citrus trees, a peach tree (with curly leaf, I need to do something about this), and, most surprisingly, a cherry tree. The kids are loving spending time out there, getting filthy and having fun. Good thing I've got the biggest and sunniest washing line in Springwood. It enables me to fully indulge my washing fetish.

Which brings me right back to those five loads waiting to be put away....sigh.