Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts

Monday, 23 April 2018

School Holidays Memories

It's currently school holidays in my neck of the woods. Except I'm not anywhere near woods. I live in suburbia. But you know what I mean. 

So here's a lazy nifty bullet list of utterly random school holiday memories:

  • The buzzy euphoric feeling at 3pm on the last day of term. For some reason this sensation has mysteriously disappeared as an adult and parent. Hmph.
  • Staying up late just because you could.
  • Sleeping in late just because you could.
  • Me as a kid: "I'm borrrred!" My mum: "Hi, Bored. I'm mum/Alison."
  • Lamenting the fact that all my friends* had gone away for the holidays.
  • *Okay, I only had one friend. But she always went away leaving me on my lonesome. Rude.
  • Going to the movies to see such classics as Grease and Xanadu. Why yes, I am quite ancient.
  • Ditto going to the actual cinemas to see all the Back To Future films. Frightfully, frightfully ancient, I'm afraid.
  • Patting/ smooching my dog and singing a song I made up: "You're my dear darling adorable dachshund dog!" Remember, my one friend was away. And I was a weird kid anyway. Even weirder adult. Winning. 
  • Listening to endless records and cassettes. Did I mention I'm ancient?
  • Singing into a hairbrush to the above mentioned records: Abba, The Carpenters, Barbra Streisand; and shockingly, even Madonna. Surprise! Sometimes I did behave like an 80s teenager. 
  • Me as a kid: "Mum, I'm hungryyyy!" My mum: "Hi, Hungry, I'm mum/Alison."
  • A rare family holiday to the beach side town of Nelson Bay. We shared an apartment with a colony of cockroaches, sleeping on beds that smelt like congealed decades of sweat and pee. When Mum and Dad decided to end the stay early and head home my brother and I cheered. 
  • Road trips to Dubbo, Wagga Wagga or Canberra. We left in the middle of the night and my brother and I slept top to tail in the back seat of our old Datsun. 
  • When we woke up during the above road trips, we gazed out the windows exclaiming over any animals we spotted. "COOOOOWWWWWWS!!!!" "HORRRRRRSSSEEEEEY'S!!!" Fast forward a few decades. On one of our road trips Mickey Blue Eyes pointed out some cows. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," remarked one of the boys, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 
  • Me as a kid: "MUUUUUM!" My mum: "She went mad and they shot her!" Fast forward several decades. My boys:"MUUUUUM!" Me: "She went mad and they shot her!" 
  • Going to my Auntie Eileen's place and visiting the park and swimming pool around the corner. Then we'd get chicken and chips from Happy Harry's, the milk bar around the corner. 
  • Driving home from Auntie Eileen's, I'd fall asleep in the car and magically wake up in my own bed. It was like I could totally teleport or something!This ability has mysteriously disappeared as an adult. Hmph. 

  • Watching the US Today show at midnight for no reason except it came on then and I had to stay up late because HOLIDAYS. Also; watching the odd mini series really late, such as North & South with Patrick Swayze in it. What can I say? It was the 80s. 
  • Being totally bummed and peeved when it was time to head back to school at the beginning of the year, despite the fact that I'd just had six weeks off! This sensation has mysteriously disappeared as an adult and parent. Tee hee!
What about you? 

What are your school holiday memories?

Friday, 18 November 2016

Taking Stock









Hello, gorgeous people! It's me again, popping up here whenever I feel like it! I accidentally typed 'pooping', but I changed it. Although that probably works, considering the general quality of posts here...

Related: I've finally done something I should have done YEARS ago. I signed up to do
 Blog With Pip and Blog Magic in a special two for one deal! 

Anyway, our week two assignment was this 'taking stock' thingy that I've seen around on lots of blogs.  


Too easy!  

On with the show....

Drum roll please!




Making : Everything super awkward. It's a special gift of mine!
Cooking : Dinner. Because the dinner fairy never shows up. Rude.
Drinking : Tea! Always tea. Even though it's warming up. 
Reading: Last Woman Hanged by Caroline Overington. Gruesome, but fascinating! 
Wanting: Equilibrium.
Looking: Like Kath from Kath n' Kim with my nanna curls. Noice. 




Playing: Eye spy with Mr 8. 
Deciding: Where and when to go on holidays. It will NOT be Dubbo. 
Wishing: I wasn't so anxious.
Enjoying: Getting black into exercise. Slowwwwwly. But getting there!

Waiting: For the kettle to boil. Helps if you plug it in I have discovered.  
Liking: Peace and quiet. I don't currently have any. But I would like it.
Wondering: Why I can't think of anything I'm wondering about right now, but at midnight when I should be sleeping, my mind will swirl with ALL THE THINGS.
Loving: My family. 
Pondering: See wondering.
Considering: What new template to put on this here blog. Well, in actual fact I did apply a new template (did anyone notice...?). Then I realised it doesn't look any different when viewed in mobile. Damn. So now I'm considering changing it again...  Decisions, decisions.  I am not good at them. Sigh. 
Watching: The Wrong Girl, Rosehaven and Please Like Me. 

Hoping: We get to go on that holiday. 
Marvelling: That I'm still relatively sane after the year I've had. OK, it's debatable...
Needing: Exercise! 
Smelling: Oranges.  
Wearing: My classy K-Mart attire. Be very jealous. 
Following: Um. I'm not a follower, I'm a... erm...

Not a leader either. Details.
Hmm, I dunno, haven't looked at Twatter in a while. Oh! But I signed up for Instagram, so hit me with your handles on there so I can follow YOU! 
Noticing: That time is on fast forward while I'd like to be on pause. 
Knowing: I am actually looking forward to Christmas instead of being all bah humbug! I know, right?! I don't even know who I am anymore. 
Thinking: Too much. Especially at midnight. See: Wondering and Pondering

Feeling: Blah, then brilliant. Then bored, then ebullient. Then bleak. And brilliant again. I'm a moody bitch. 
Admiring: My parents. They celebrated their 50th anniversary last week!
Sorting: Clothes. 
Buying: Birthday, anniversary and Christmas presents. 
Getting: Fat. Okay, fattER. Ahem. 

Bookmarking:  Um. Nothing comes to mind...
Disliking: Headaches. I had one for two days this week. Gah. 
Opening: My mouth. To eat too much food... See: Getting.
Giggling: At the cute things Mr 8 says.  
Snacking: On all those delicious summer fruits. The only good thing about summer. Nectarines and mangoes FTW! 
Coveting: Chocolate and cakies. What else? See: Opening and Getting
Wishing: That 2016 wasn't quite so WEIRD. 




Helping: Hmmmm. I tried to 'help' Mr 15 with an assessment. All I can say is I'm glad I'm not in high school anymore... 
Hearing: My stomach grumbling. Apparently it's lunch time. It always comes back to food with me, doesn't it? Oh dear. 


And that is me 'taking stock' on this fine day!

Wish me luck with the rest of the course(s). I need it! 


Linking up with Bloggers & Bacon for Archive Love.

What have you been opening and getting? Um, perhaps I should rephrase that...

How are you 'taking stock'? 



Sunday, 24 July 2016

An Aussie Holiday

G'day everyone! Just for shits and giggles, I thought I'd tell youse a bit our recent holiday to the Gold Coast - Aussie style!





It was a bonza holiday! I reckon I could waffle on a bit about it.

Let me tell you, it's hard yakka packing for the five of us. But I finally managed to shove it all in the bags and Micky Blue Eyes broke his back getting it all in the boot. 

It was going to be a long drive, so I put on a pair of daggy but comfortable daks. The boys wanted to get brekkie at Maccas, so went through the drive-through. Every time we do this, we fondly remember the time we went to good old Red Rooter Rooster and they had NO CHICKEN. Too funny!

We finally made it to Coffs Harbour, where we settled into a cramped cosy little motel room. At least the wifi there was bonza!

After two nights there, we drove on to the Gold Coast. Once we got there, us oldies were knackered and just wanted to veg out and do fuck all. But the boys were bored cos the wifi there was dodgy.

So we went and had a squiz at the beach. I think they might have even gotten wet a few times, but I totally forgot my bikini! Most likely cos I don't have one. Details!



We had a bit of butcher's hook around and got some snags and had a barbie, cos the cabin we were staying in had one.

The next place we stayed at was a bit iffy. Some drongo must have been having a durry in the next room, cos it reeked.

But we just wanted to get some tucker in our cake-holes. So began 'The Great Bakery Crawl of 2016'.  Mickey Blue Eyes is like totally OBSESSED with bakeries. He just forces me to eat cake! SO rude.

One day we drove to the sunshine coast to have lunch at Hog's Breath with the rellies. Notably my sister-in-law and brother-in-law.

We also had a good squiz at some Op shops and second hand book stores. Mr 12 scored some Goosebumps books. We like to keep it classy.

Next , we decided to go to Movie World. Crikey, it costs a few quid! 

We spotted a little kiddies ride called  Driving School or something.

"Do you wanna go on it?" Mickey Blue Eyes asked Mr 7.

"No!" he flatly refused.

Well, bugger me if he didn't insist on going on the roller coaster five minutes later! He went on it a total of six times! That's six times more than this chicken shit sheila. Shut up. Some one has to mind the bags!

I was worried that Mickey Blue Eyes might get a bit crook from the rides, but he didn't. That bloke is like a big kid!

Eventually it was time to say hoo-roo to the Gold Coast and head back to good old Sydney town, where we are currently freezing our bums off again.

But it's all good, cos we can plan our next bonza holiday!

See you at the beach! Or the bakery....

What do you like to have a squiz at when you're on holidays?





Monday, 31 August 2015

Seven Signs Spring Has Sprung

It's that glorious time of year yet again. Spring is finally here! Well, it's here officially tomorrow, but details! Don't you just feel like singing? 

I always look forward to it because now I can finally get all my spring cleaning done. Snorts. Meanwhile, Christmas is only around the corner! BRING. IT. ON! 




Actually, all sarcasm aside, I do love spring.  During these particular holidays we are going away to Wagga Wagga to visit relatives, so I'm looking forward to it. 

Plus, in November Mr 6 will become Mr 7 and Mickey Blue Eyes and I will celebrate 20 years of wedded stress. Oops, I mean bliss. 

I always know when spring is just around the corner. There are several giveaway signs.

Here are the seven signs that spring has sprung:

1. I need to shave my pits and legs. This requires an industrial strength lawn mower. At which point, I realise that it probably wasn't a great idea to allow them to grow long enough to plait. Is that just me? Okay, no need to answer...



2. I start sneezing. A lot. ACHOO!

3. All the inevitable posts reminding me that Santa arrives in only X amount of days/weeks suddenly start flooding my social media feeds. I resolve that this is finally the year that I'll be organised and get all my Christmas shopping sorted before the end of September. Then I promptly do nothing until the end of November or beginning of December. Apparently I like living on the edge. 

4. I gradually begin to thaw out a little each day. Then I finally emerge blinking into the sunlight. During the winter months I decided to divide my time between bed and the shower. Those are the only places I can warm up despite everyone insisting that it's 'easy' to warm up during winter. 

5. I begin to dread summer and the scorching, searing heat that comes with it. As much as I dislike winter, I also have an aversion to summer. So at least I consistently whinge about the weather all year round. Gotta be consistent people. 

6. I frantically start doing 700 crunches a day to get myself bikini ready for summer. Just kidding! I never do that. I realise that I've actually forgotten to buy a bikini for the 44th year in a row. Oops. I figure it probably wouldn't be a good look for me. (See point number 1). Instead, I stock up on industrial strength 50 plus sunscreen. I'm a ranga. I need to drown myself in that shit. 


7. I sneeze. A lot. Yeah, I know I've already mentioned that, but seriously, it's all the freaking time! ACHOO! ACHOO! ACHOO! 

I certainly do love spring but it doesn't love me. Hello season of sinus headaches. Sigh. I guess I'll be stocking up on Zyrtecs as well as sunscreen. 

Despite all this, I'm glad that spring has finally sprung. I'm feeling so optimistic that I may even decide to do that spring cleaning after all! Shut up. You never know. 

Linking up with Kirsty, Alicia and Eva

What does spring mean to you? 

Tuesday, 16 June 2015

Quiet Person, Loud Mind

Hello strangers. I haven't been blogging very much lately. I must confess I do miss it quite a bit.

I guess it's a combination of things keeping me away from this space these days.  For starters I've been quite busy actually leaving the house and doing other things for once. This has to be a good thing, right?

Additionally, I don't always have access to a working lap-top. For some reason our lap-tops and internet connection are dodgy. The other reason that I have to confess is just having a case of the 'blog blahs'. I feel like I'm boring myself with the inane nonsense I write, so I must be boring every one else. Sigh.

I feel like I should probably do something different with this blog at this point, but then I don't know what that something different is. After all, I've been blogging (erratically) for over three years.

I don't really know why but for some reason I am always some 20 years behind other people my age when it comes to confidence or something. I mean, it took me until I was 41 to even consider putting anything whatsoever that I wrote out there via this blog however good, bad or indifferent it was or is. So perhaps if I live until I'm 80 I should be ready to push it to another level.

I read other blogs and articles giving people advice and opinions regarding parenting or Asperger's Syndrome but somehow I never see myself that way despite being a mother of three with an adult diagnonsense of Assburgers. (You see how I never take anything seriously..)  Who am I to give anyone advice when I'm just another person stumbling along making things up as I go?

Disclaimer: This week I am living in raging PMS Land, so I'm all sooky la la and navel gazing and morose and moody. As opposed to all the other times when I'm upbeat and chirpy and optimistic. Shut up.

This popped up in my Facebook feed today:



It's quite true. There is a lot of chatter in my head at the moment. Unfortunately it just seems to be nonsense chatter, so I do apologise for this post sounding scrambled and confused. As opposed to all my previous ones which were focused and insightful and purposeful. Coughs.

As I mentioned, I've been busy doing things. Principally I am about to finish my TAFE course. This is a Certificate 1 in Access To Work And Training. Now I'm pondering my next move. My first thought was that I might be able to do some further TAFE units in Library Practice. This is the diploma I obtained some decades time ago. I figured it might be a tad redundant by now, so I might be able to update or refresh my qualifications.

The only problem is that TAFE courses now cost an arm, two legs, a liver and a kidney. As well as an additional twelve billionty dollars and at least one of your children to be sacrificed with a gruesome bludgeoning. If you haven't got children they will take your bullocks or girly bits and bludgeon those instead because they figure you don't need them.

OK, I'm exaggerating slightly. But they are frightfully expensive. I spoke  to the dude who is the head teacher of the Library Practice course today and he's advised me that it may cost me at least four grand. Yikes.

Anyway, there is an information session next week which I will attend and see what they say. However, I'm starting to think it won't be an option if it's going to cost a fortune and take forever. I'm already quite ancient mature.

I think I may decide to do some volunteer work and then perhaps send my resume off to good old Library Locums and see what happens. Hopefully they will just ignore the vast, echoing, prolonged, empty and gargantuan gap in my resume. It's only 15 years since I've worked. That's nothing, right? 

Meanwhile, Mickey Blue Eyes has assured me that I don't need to worry about working from a money perspective because he's right on track with his Becoming A Millionaire plan even it's more than a decade behind schedule. But, as I like to say - details.

Therefore if I'm going to study I might be better off doing a writing course or a blogging course but I don't know which one. I mean, what courses are there for somebody who is already clearly a writerly/blogging genius? Suggestions please, bloggy friends!

In other news, Mr 11 is currently in Canberra on a school excursion. He'll be back tonight. Mr 13 is becoming Mr 14 next month and Mr 6 is his usual cheeky self.  He says so many funny things all the time, but now that I'm trying to remember them I can't. Weird.

I have their parent/teacher interviews coming up next week, so that will be interesting. Every time I go to these I feel like I'm a naughty child who is being sent to the principal's office or something. Is that just me? This is particularly strange since I was never a naughty or rebellious child and don't remember ever being sent to the principal's office when I was at school. Neurotic much?

In other news apparently half the year has vanished already. This means that the count down to Christmas will begin. Please DO NOT remind me of how many days there are to go. It will be all over my Facebook feed all too soon. Sigh.

The school holidays are also coming and we have NOTHING PLANNED. YAY!

We did consider going away but the boys were OUTRAGED by this suggestion. Clearly you can't fight genetics. The introverted/homebody gene is a strong one around here. Winning!


There is a trip to Wagga Wagga planned for September. Yes, we always stay classy. Besides, we have extended family there whom we will be visiting so it's all good. Can't wait! Except I sort of can. Because if it was already September, then there would be even less time until Christmas. I can't even.... Head hurts.

Oh well, I suppose I had better go and do some exercise and tick some more stuff off my To-Do list. So far I have ticked an amazing ONE thing off the list. Oh dear. Plus, it appears I should have added to the list: Do not lose To-Do list.

Um, where is my To-Do List? OK, I'm off to find it....


Until next time,

Hugs and cakie things,

Ness

PS: It turns out that I was sitting on the To-Do List. Oops.

Linking up (late, as usual) for I Must Confess.

Do you have a loud mind? What's going on in your head?

Monday, 18 May 2015

Travel Fails

Today I am back to entertain you with some tails of my travel fails. As you can see I am still the consummate poet.  What can I say? It's a gift.
  


Sadly, this is a topic I am all too familiar with. Our travel experiences would most certainly fall into the fail category. Basically we have failed to travel to any glamorous destination. Instead we are more likely to end up in a rather exotic location -  like Dubbo.
 
Incidentally, if you typed tripadvisor Dubbo into your Google search engine I wonder what it would advise you?  Don't bother?  Stay home because your life sucks? Perhaps they should have that mocking voice that's on Stick Run on Facebook that declares "YOU'VE FAILED!!"  in a tone dripping with derision. Look I have nothing against Dubbo. It's a fine place. In fact I've discovered that there is a drive-through bakery there and multiple book shops, so it's practically my dream holiday destination now.


Anyway, enough about that. Back to my travel tails. When I was a mere lass of only 10 I went on my first and last overseas jaunt to Holland with my parents and brother. I'm not sure if 'jaunt' is the correct expression but it sounds cute so I'll go with it.  The month long stay with our family friends went smoothly and was most enjoyable. I do have some vintage footage on a DVD somewhere of me as a ten-year-old Ness with long red hair merrily skipping through the tulips, but I have no idea how to upload it here so you'll have to imagine  it.

The fail part came when we arrived at the airport, homeward bound. For some reason my parents mistakenly thought we had loads of time before departure. We were strolling around the airport when our names were called over the loudspeaker.  Cue the frantic sprint to the departure gate, arms and carry-on luggage akimbo. Sheepishly we boarded the plane amid the dagger-like stares of our fellow passengers whom we'd kept waiting.



Another time my parents rented an apartment at Nelson Bay in NSW for a week. The brochures forgot to mention we would be  sharing it with an army of cockroaches. There was also the delightful bonus of mattresses that reeked of urine. We only lasted one night before heading home.


Thus ended my travel adventures for many years. Enter Mickey Blue Eyes. From the minute we met it was evident that we were not only destined to be together, but to become a dynamic, jet-setting power couple. Forget Brangelina. Think Micess. Nessick? Um. I might have to think about that...


The point is, we embarked on many holidays including our honeymoon in Tasmania where we nearly drowned on a cruise through Hell's Gate. Now I know why they call it that. Another memorable trip involved watching the four walls of a motel room in Cairns for a day or two while a cyclone raged away outside.


Our holidays post children often seem to be road trips. One or more of the boys will inevitably end up puking in the car. This is always fun. Said no one ever.


On one trip to the Gold Coast we were visiting Sea World. As I peered into the humungous shark tank I leaned over to get a better look and my mobile phone slipped out of  my handbag and fell in with a splash.  Mick and the boys wandered down to underground viewing area. People were muttering in disgust about a phone being in there. Mr 13 (who was only 8 or so at the time) exclaimed "That's my Mum's!" We left, cheeks blazing. Classy. For the record, I did notify a staff member of what had happened but he seemed to have a 'why the f**k are you telling me?' expression. It's not like I expected him to dive in and retrieve it for me!


I fear we have another travel fail on the horizon. We talk about going away during the July school holidays but we still haven't done anything about it. Meanwhile, I've also begun the arduous process of applying for passports. I got to the point where we need to provide photos and referees and promptly forgot about it. Oops. Yep, I'd call that a travel fail of epic proportions. Well, it's not so much a travel fail as it is failing to travel AT ALL.


I've never actually managed to catch the travel bug the way some people do, so I'm relatively resolved to the fact that we may never have an epic overseas trip. But I guess you never know. It might still happen. In the meantime I can just watch half the people on my Facebook feed who all appear to be overseas at the moment.


And there is always that drive-through bakery in Dubbo awaiting me. How could  that be a failure? 


Linking up for I Must Confess.


What do your consider to be your travel fails?

Monday, 30 June 2014

Seven Signs That You Seriously Suck At Packing

I'm in the middle of packing for our trip to Port Macquarie. I'm not very good at it. There are certain things that would confirm this.  Here they are, the seven signs that you suck at packing:

  1. You leave it until the very last minute, taking the term 'flying by the seat of your pants' to a whole new level.  You may try to rationalise this by reasoning that you work you better under pressure and just ignore the constant twitching of your eye and rising panic.
  2. A situation may* have happened on a long ago vacation, where your partner nearly suffered a coronary trying to haul an over-stuffed heavy suitcase through the airport. He eye-balled you intensely and bellowed: "Don't ever pack a bag like this AGAIN!! EVER!!" Bemused passers by may have witnessed this interlude as you longed for the floor to open and swallow you.
  3. In spite of the above lead-like suitcase, you've forgotten essential items, yet packed non-essential items.
  4. Your definition of essential items varies wildly from your partners. After all, you couldn't exist without your dozen or so meticulously co-ordinated outfits, so necessary for what you'll be doing - schlepping to theme parks or local attractions with kids. The rest of the time will be spent doing as little as possible in an attempt to recover from the former horror.
  5. You pack approximately 17 books for a 7 day getaway. You're either weirdly convinced that this is the week that you are somehow going to miraculously become a speed reader or just deluded. If you have 3 kids in tow, as I do, the deluded thing is the more likely option. Either option is delusional, really.
  6. You pack joggers and active wear. Naturally, a holiday is the perfect time to take up jogging. You conveniently ignore the fact that the only exercise you participated in on past holidays involved walking to the cake shop then lifting the purchased cakies into your gob. Ditto walking  to the booze shop and lifting booze to your gob. If you have 3 kids in tow, the booze is a likely option.
  7. You glance around at your accommodation on day 2 or 3 of your stay and are appalled to discover that the glistening, pristine conditions you sighed over when you arrived now resemble a war zone. You appear to have transported the entire contents of your home there, including the 3 kids and all their accompanying paraphernalia. This now necessitates a hurried clean before the actual cleaners arrive; you wouldn't want them to think you live like this. You now may as well be at home.

*Definitely happened. Excruciating.

                                 What other signs are there that you suck at packing?
                                    Are you going away these holidays?

Friday, 29 March 2013

Bogans Do It Better

Before Micky Blue Eyes and I had the boys we were, of course, seasoned travellers of the most classy kind. Yep, we were jet setting bogans visiting every glamorous destination in the land of Oz.

We have been to every far corner of this vast land, including the delightful Dubbo, Denman (don't ask) and of course, Canberra SO many times because the War Memorial and Parliament House just never get old do they? And if they do there is always porn or explosives at hand as a back up plan. Apparently. I wouldn't know.

We survived the searing heat of Broken Hill in January and visited far away exotic places such as Tasmania. So, without further ado, I present to you the very best bogan holiday snaps, because, truly, bogans do it better.

Bogans doing it better
on Fraser Island
There was our memorable trip to Fraser Island, where we went on a four wheel drive expedition. Micky Blue Eyes was quite keen on the idea, and I was keen on the idea of lazing about the motel reading a book. But he dragged me along. Ironically, I seemed to withstand the rather bumpy ride quite well, while Mick was a tad shaken by the experience. This is the man who considers himself on a par with Bear Gryls. I expect he shouldn't have a problem with drinking his own wee then, should the situation ever arise. I would, however, so I would prefer it if he left me out of his outback treks. I drink enough cask wine that tastes like piss, thanks very much.

Outback Bogan Woman: I scared the dingoes away.
At least all the dingoes roaming about the island did not mess with me. No way. I looked scary.

Then, there was also our memorable trip to Western Australia. While there, we visited Wave Rock and Fremantle. At least, I think it's wave rock. Well, actually, I have no idea. In typical lazy bogan fashion, I've justed shoved the photos in an album and hoped I'd remember where they were taken. Might be, might not be. Who cares? I look like a dick head anyway. which is the real point of publishing these photos.




A bogan at Wave Rock. I think.



I appear to be wearing some sort of ridiculous get up featuring a hat and a shirt that reaches my knees. But then, I have always been a style icon.


Now here I am looking fashionable in Fremantle. So sophisticated. Especially my knee length shirt, which, on closer examination appears to be somewhat see-through. So my knees are chastely covered but you can see my bra and nipples. Classy.

Fashion icon in Fremantle


Whilst in WA we decided to drive way up North to Monkey Mia, where we spent days sitting on a beach waiting for dolphins to arrive. One finally did.

It was worth driving THOUSANDS of kms for
this one shot of a dolphin, right?
So there you have it. I could go on posting photos for days, but I'm sure I've already made you SO jealous. so I had better stop. Bogans just do it better.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths  for I Must Confess.



What exciting adventures have you been on? Bogans do it better, right?

Sunday, 6 January 2013

Hot Topic

I don't need to tell you it's hot. You're most likely aware of it from the small detail of your face melting off your skull. Unless you are not in Australia. We are, of course, in our summer months presently.

The heat is often a hot topic (pun intended) for these bogans.  Micky Blue Eyes loves summer. In fact, if he had his way we would probably be heading up to Darwin next Tuesday instead of Queensland. He frequently makes remarks like:

"Wouldn't it be great to be somewhere up in the top end now, in one of the water holes, having a dip!"

I usually look at him as if he is deranged. Clearly he is. He grew up in a family who were not familiar with air conditioning. In fact my out-laws still do not have air conditioning in their home. Therefore, another frequent comment I hear, is "We never had air conditioning, when I was a kid!"

My parents, on the other hand, live in a perpetual state of 'heat horror'. In fact they had to go away to the country for the weekend for my Uncle's 80th birthday celebration. My mother was not impressed at the weather predictions. It was as if my Uncle had an unmitigated gall to have been born in summer, so I'm surprised I was born in January.

We were lucky enough to have had air conditioning from the time I was about five or six. I was constantly reminded how of how lucky I was, by my heat fearing parents.Whenever anybody we knew was foolhardy enough to go away for a family vacation, during the summer holidays, they were immediately dismissed as being completely and totally INSANE. We rarely had summer holidays. As I have always been an indoorsy, bookish person, this never bothered me greatly.

However, since meeting Micky Blue Eyes all that has changed. Now, we will usually go away somewhere during the summer holidays. And that somewhere will always be HOT.  There is not really any escaping it in Summer time, in Australia.  I don't mind going away. In fact, I usually end up enjoying it.

My only aversion to the heat, revolves around the reality of being a 'ranga'. This, of course, means that I have the pallid, almost translucent, freckled skin that goes with it.  Five minutes in the sun and I am decidedly pinkish. Ten minutes equals serious sunburn. After fifteen minutes, I may as well say hellooo Melanoma.   All the 30 plus sunscreen will not prevent me from being burnt somewhat.

Therefore, I really prefer to remain indoors as much as possible. Meanwhile, Micky Blue Eyes will want to hit the beach and go for as many walks as possible. He never likes to actually admit that it's hot. Instead he'll attempt to think of as many inventive excuses as to why he feels hot.

"Maybe it's because I'm not playing soccer/doing enough exercise and sweating it out so that's why I'm sweating now." That is a familiar one.

Or, it's the chair he's sitting on is leather so that is making him sweat not the fact that it's 40 degrees in the shade.  Similar to how most males won't ever ask for directions when lost, Micky Blue Eyes will never admit that is, indeed hot, and the heat is effecting him.

He laments the fact that air conditioning is contributing to global warming and that people have become far too dependent on it. Which I have. Thanks Mum and Dad.

Just to be thoroughly inconsistent though, as much as I abhor the heat, I definitely do not think the cold is any better. No matter how many times people tell me that it is 'easy' to warm up, just chuck on some extra clothes, I have personally never found that theory to be true. My feet remain blocks of ice all through winter despite three pairs of socks and Ugg Boots.  I've even been known to have cold feet as late in the year as November. Now that is just plain wrong.  I must have been a frog in past life or some other cold blooded animal.

So here I will be complaining about the weather for at least half of the year. I whinge when it's hot. I whinge when it's cold.  Right, excuse me while I go back to melting.

How do you survive the heat? Do you love the heat? Prefer the cold? Don't care? Let's discuss the weather! It's fascinating. Isn't it? Oh okay, I'll shut up about it.

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Holiday Happenings

Since our recent holiday was such a (tedious bore) resounding success, I thought I would take a break from the sweeping sagas of our past and bring you up to date with recent happenings.

Micky Blue Eyes had booked a motel in Denman in the Upper Hunter Valley for a few days.
"What are you coming here for," the man taking the booking had asked "for work, is it?" This wasn't exactly selling it as a tourist destination, but we made the booking anyway and then another at Maitland.

The drive there was actually quite pleasant. No puking! Hurrah!  The boys were delighted because they actually scored Macca's drive through. I decided to try the lamb burger only to discover the thing is as big as my head.

Driving on, we stopped at a park for a break and had a spirited game of 'tips.' I had to at least pretend that I was still getting some exercise.

Upon arriving, we checked in.
"What's on?" the woman at reception asked, quizzically "what did you come here for?"
"No reason," I mumbled.
"Just to get away from the rat race," Mick chuckled.
"Oh," she said, shortly, obviously deciding we were nuts.  Apparently even the locals can't imagine why anyone would want to go there. Interesting.

After a day or two the boys were (bored shitless) having a blast.
"Can we go in the pool? Pleeeeeease!!!" they begged.  Reluctantly, we agreed.  Trudging out to the deserted pool, we gingerly  dipped our toes in.  Holy shit! It was beyond freezing.  Master 8 and 11 were not to be deterred, however and defiantly splashed in out of the water for 20 mins, with their teeth chattering, before we all finally bailed.

The following day, we visited Muswellbrook. The boys were keen to see some serious shops. We pulled up outside a Vinnies Store. Yay! Cheap books! I weighed the pro's and cons of going in.

Pro: I could score cheap books.

Con: Micky would inevitably buy some woeful old shirts.

In the end, the lure of cheap books was too much to resist.

Half an hour later, I heaved my bag full of books back into the car, now heavily weighted down and we headed down the street. We drove past a shopping centre sporting signs for Big W and Woolworths.
"Yes!" the boys chorused "Let's go in there!"
They were hoping for a food court with a KFC.

Sailing up the travelator, we then traipsed in. It was eerily deserted.  There was the food court. Resplendent with a total of three shops, not one of them Macca's or KFC. The boys sulked and glowered.

Eventually Master 11 agreed to have a beef kebab, while the other two had hot chips. Happily stuffed with kebabs and hot chips, we then meandered around the shops. Inevitably, we ended up in the toy section in Big W, where I proceeded to repeat the word NO approximately every 2 seconds. I'm pretty sure I would have been able to experience such holiday (hell) bliss at home.

After about 16 million No's, we ventured to the front exit, where I agreed they could have a lolly/treat.  Fifteen minutes of whinging about the crap selection of treats ensued, while the cashier looked on with a pained expression.  Finally I paid for some Tic Tacs and a Mars Bar and left, forgetting to pay for a small packet of pins I'd stuffed in the pocket of the pram. Oops. I had unwittingly become a shop lifter.  Little did I know, this is apparently a common occurrence in Muswellbrook.

Next, we went for a walk down the main street, noting how deserted the place was. We came to club and decided to go in and have a drink.  This time there wasn't even the obligatory local drunk to turn around and stare at us like we had two heads. It was completely empty.  The boys had a jug of lemonade to add to their sugar high, while I mellowed out with two scotch and cokes, and Mick with a beer, before he headed back to get the car.
The Best Movie Ever

Back in the car, the portable DVD player started up with the familiar strains of Shrek 4 Ever After. Henceforth to be known as The Best Movie Ever. Not only does it have a Carpenters song in it, but the boys were so transfixed by it in the car, that we managed to drive past Macca's and KFC, then turn around and drive past them again, and they didn't even notice.

Next stop was Maitland. This time the room was exactly right for (paralysing claustrophobia) cosy, comforting togetherness.  Bunk bed battles began. As well as balcony paranoia, as they had put us upstairs. With no other rooms available we had no choice but to panic over Master 3's whereabouts at all times.

The highlight of Maitland was, once again, a massive Lifeline shop. More books! Yes, we are such classy people.
The Griswald's. We are classy, like them...

The final evening we settled in to watch  National Lampoon's Vaction starring Chevy Chase. Ah, those crazy Griswald's. And we're just like them! See, I told you we are classy people. Just like movie stars. Yep. 

The movie ended and we all settled in for the night. Except the boys decided to get an attack of the giggles.  Finally, in a frantic effort to make them go to sleep Mick helpfully made the fatal mistake of saying: "Quick! You better get to sleep, I thought I saw someone near the window!"  Good one. Great way to get kids to sleep. Scare the bejesus out of them!

The next day we arrived home (exhausted and drained) rested and relaxed, ready for them to go to back to school. Yippee!

Except...Master 8 was sick, then Master 3..and me.. boo hoo...

But, on the positive side, plans are already under way for another bogan trip in January. So move over Griswald's, it's now our song: Holidaaay Roooooaad....


Tuesday, 21 August 2012

Honeymoon & Other Happy Holidays

There was a time in our lives, as unbelievable as it is now, when we thought we might never be able to have children.  So we thought, what the hell, we'll travel.

London, Paris, New York - they're nice places, I've heard. But we went to Dubbo instead. As you do.  Especially if you're a couple of bogans.

For our honeymoon we had booked a trip to Tasmania on the Spirit of Tasmania.  This involved driving to Melbourne at the time as the boat didn't depart from Sydney. Miraculously, Mick had somehow persuaded me to do this as I have a fear of boats and water. Apparently love really is blind.

The trip accross the Bass Strait went smoothly. We had booked all accommodation with a budget motel chain. Let's just call them 'Best Bogan'.  The first place we checked into, I went into reception.

"Hello," I said, approaching the lady at reception "we have a booking." She checked our details then exclaimed "Oh, it's your honeymoon!"
"Yes," I said, wondering how she knew.
"We're giving you the honeymoon Suite!" she beamed. Okay.

We entered the room.  It was the same as any other run of the mill motel room.  Except for the giant, red, shiny, love heart shaped water bed in the middle of the room. Classy.

From Hobart we travelled on to Cradle Mountain.  Micky Blue Eyes  really enjoys nature.  In spite of the fact that he is actually an Accountant, he prefers to ignore that and think of himself as an Albhy Mangels type of adventurer when we're on holidays.  However, this was our honeymoon.  It's supposed be to romantic, right?

Somewhere in Tasmania. I can't remember where
exactly, it was 17 years ago for FFS. 


A four hour walk around the lake in the rain while starving and nearly passing out from hunger, wasn't exactly cutting it.  Neither was the near death experience of a cruise on the river Strahan through Hell's Gate.  And I know why they call it that. This boat trip and another one to Maria Island, certainly did absolutely nothing to cure my fear of boats and water.  I freak out going on the Manly ferry now.

The following year we headed over to Perth, Western Australia and stayed in the Park Royal in the city.  We have fond memories of sitting in the foyer sipping cappuccinos while a piano player tinkled away in the background.  Such is a thing is impossible now. Sigh.  We hired a car and headed up north to Monkey Mia.

The only thing to actually do at Monkey Mia was sit on a beach, albiet, a stunningly beautiful beach, and wait for dolphins to decide whether or not they wish to appear. They did, eventually.

Another memorable vacation involved a trip up to Cairns in sunny Queensland.  We spent several days staring at the four walls of the motel room while a cyclone raged outside.  At one point, it became deadly calm and Mick remarked that he'd love to go for a walk.  Just then the announcer on the radio said "You'd have to be out or your mind to go out there now."  Apparently it was the 'eye' of the cyclone passing over so everything becomes still and calm until it starts raging away again.

In spite of this, we did make out to see the Great Barrier Reef and I actually went snorkelling, which is a minor miracle considering my intense fear of water.  Not to mention being seen in a swim suit.



On yet another holiday at Coolum on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Mick suddenly decided to become my personal trainer and had me jogging up a hill daily.  We were into our long fertility trek by now and were trying to get fit (long story for a whole other blog).

 The following year we went to Darwin. We thought this was like visiting the 7th Circle of Hell. We were wrong.  We discovered that is actually Broken Hill in the middle of January.  Somehow I survived the heat, blissfully unaware that I was pregnant. Maybe the jogging worked, not sure.

Our happy holidays reached a whole new level with the arrival of children.  Now any jaunts around winding roads are filled with the wonderful sounds of Mr8 puking his guts up.  This happened on our trip to Tassie (again) last year. Not to mention the relaxing flight to get there, when we received the wrath of the flight attendant numerous times for not being able to control a recalcitrant Mr3 who proceeded to take his seat belt off as we were preparing to land and busy himself turning on the overhead lights. Fun.

And the fun continues...as we are in the process of planning for our next adventure. Which exciting destination will we choose for a September school holidays road trip? Dubbo? Orange? Timbuktu or Woop Woop?  Stay tuned for some (not so) exciting developments.