#929 Floors for days

A huge, MASSIVE stepping stone in our work-in-progress kitchen reno today:

IMAG3645

New flooring.

To say this has lifted the atmosphere and overall unity of the room/s is an understatement. We had three different coloured floors over the three areas which are all joined, and to now have the same floor running throughout, it not only completely transforms the area, but the uniform look lengthens and enlarges the entire space.

Not to mention it looks absolutely rad… but I think anything would have been better than a 3-toned floor.

It is really satisfying when a long-held vision starts to take shape… and the shape is even smoother and shinier than you would have ever imagined 🙂

#928 BBQ Serendipity

Sometimes you spend your life asking why things won’t go the way you want them to.

Other times you think “well ain’t I lucky.”

It felt like the strangest and luckiest coincidence when weeks ago I took a letter from baby girl’s kinder home. It read that there was to be a Father’s Day bbq in a couple of weeks time. I was surprised given that the time and date was 9:15am on a Thursday, and figured the early notice might be so that Dad’s might try to make other work arrangements to make it in for their littlies…

Hubbie works like, ALL the days. But as I started to calculate the dates, knowing we were on holidays about that time, I made a happy realisation.

He was FREE.

If it was a week earlier, he would have missed it, as we were in ol’ Hobart-town. A week later, and back at work.

He has 4 measly weeks off A YEAR. How the Father’s Day bbq fell perfectly on the day that he was free, was well… beyond me.

Serendipity. Chance. Luck. I do not know how or why some things work out so well, while other’s have to be chased down hard with a net. But because this fell so perfectly into our lap, when baby girl and I woke still sick this morning, the painkillers quickly followed since we were not going to let Serendipity DOWN. 😉

IMAG3614

 

#927 A 2-way kinda love

She was there tonight to rub my back when I said I was sore. She followed me around devotedly, telling me she loved me and hoping I would get better soon.

As sore as I was, my heart soared.

And the feeling was reciprocated, sooner than I liked. She was suddenly shivering right before bedtime, so I sat beside her reading her most recent fave book, as we lay together in back.

One hand turned the pages. The other arm was around her… rubbing her back.

I tucked her in… told her I loved her… and hoped she would get better soon.

This love that binds us, unites us, and keeps us warm, is all I need. She knows when I need help, and instinctively I too know, when she needs me… like a little girl needs her Mama.

And although we are sick, and although we are sore… we have each other. We have our love.

Therefore, we have everything. ♥

#926 Café-ing with Hubbie, ALONE no. 2

We didn’t get to do it yesterday, since baby girl stayed home ‘kinda sick’ from kinder.

But today she was back, so we did.

Get to do it.

Café, that is 😉

We had lots of little jobs to get to, a lot of starting and stopping the car all over town, but first, as we always say…

COFFEE.

IMAG3604

We have been keeping ourselves mindful of not rushing about the place, of actually being in the present moment, enjoying what is in front of us, and just taking a slower pace.

Enjoying the moment does not mean you are not productive. Hell no. It just means that when you do take a break, you take it mindfully, meaning you are fully restored and ready to tackle any other jobs throughout the day, because you have had a fully present break.

The coffee was smooth, the beetroot cupcake was divine, and the break itself was…

Ahhh. Just what the doctor ordered.

(And seeing as I am still coughing like a dog, café doctors seem like a pretty good cure…)

#925 Funny convo sends me roaring

“I don’t know what’s wrong today.”

Those are the words a fellow Mum said today as she walked away from her daughter during her swimming class alongside baby girl. Her daughter was upset, not listening, not cooperating, and as this Mum walked away coining this phrase, she smiled tensely.

Lady, I hear you. Those words are the living mantra of ALL of parenthood.

“I don’t know what’s wrong today.”

As I laughed internally at the very true nature of those words, feeling sorry for the Mum, and thinking I too have had those really hard days, I realised that it’s a sentiment not just reserved for children… but for adults as well. Because we are big kids too, aren’t we?

Sometimes we’re hungry. Sometimes we’re tired. Sometimes we’re sick. Sometimes it’s the Moon. Other times it’s our raging hormones. Whatever is the case, we too have those moments, those days (even those weeks or months, even) where we say –

“I don’t know what’s wrong (insert timeframe).”

Well, funnily enough, my timeframe was today, this morning in fact, and I had been in the worst and shittiest mood WAY before baby girl’s swimming lesson was even in the horizon. And no they weren’t post-holiday ending blues. It was just drab. Super cold. I was still sick. In fact I was copping it bad since coming back. Baby girl was also sick. She was staying home from kinder because of that fact. We were a WHOLE LOTTA FUN TO BE AROUND. And I was also super-duper-super-duper-super-duper erratic and emotional.

A REALLY bad combo.

I was having a whine, a moan, while all 3 of us were in the car together – Hubbie, baby girl and I. We were in between heading out and heading in, to be honest we had NO IDEA what we were doing…

I had already received a message from my sister about some weekend plans, and asking when we could talk… but I was so cranky-pants, that I just couldn’t. I don’t like getting on the phone to my Mum or sister and being in one of those states, because it doesn’t help anyone, and I just hate putting them in that zone. It’s not like I’m sad, or I need help… I’m just shitty. I’m upset, then I get them upset, and then EVERYONE is upset. It’s just no good.

So while we were in the car doing absolutely nothing, I texted her quickly. Just a ‘hey, all good, I’ll call you later because I feel like shit to be honest XO’ type message.

I soon got one back telling me that she was feeling particularly sick and crappy too – oh no… was it going around? I sent her my well wishes in return, and then, had a funny exchange with Hubbie that quite frankly, made me smile. He didn’t find it too funny which made it more so (HA HA HA).

So I decided to text my sister, hoping she might find the humour in it:

Screenshot_20180827-171223_1

Oh, how I roared with laughter at the ‘Nah!’ Baby girl was in the back asking “what did Ja Ja say?” (her pet name to my sister) and then I showed Hubbie the message, laughing out loud even more.

All of my anger, all of my negative emotions, all of the crappy-ness of the day just flew out and away from me at my loud guffaws, and I swear, I immediately felt lighter. I was happy to learn that Sis did, too.

Screenshot_20180827-171235_1

And suddenly I was grateful. I was grateful I had reached out when I was feeling most shitty and the least like I wanted to reach out. And in doing so, both mine, and my Sister’s days became a little brighter, a little lighter.

It just goes to show, sometimes sharing the angst with those you love, can actually help…

And if you’re lucky, you might be able to laugh about it too 🙂

 

#924 Happy to be home

It’s so amazing when you get a chance to go away.

You have weeks, sometimes months to get excited. To start planning your itinerary. You look up places, talk to friends, get tips on the best places to go. You research, you save up, and then, after all of that waiting and waiting and waiting…

YOU GO.

And you have the best time. You have, such a great time, that you find it really sad to even think of going back home. Back to reality. Back to routine. Back to normal life.

But.

BUT.

But, there is still a little part of you, that misses the comforts.

The comforts, of HOME.

Your bed.

Your flat pillow.

The alarm clock.

The alarm clock at eye level.

12 teaspoons in the cutlery drawer.

Not having to drive without google maps.

Getting served, quickly.

The blankets that don’t overheat.

The curtains that actually shut out the morning sun.

And, the HUGE one…

The steamed vegies.

Don’t get me wrong. We loved our holiday in sooo many ways. As we should. A holiday should open your eyes to another way of living, a different culture, and in many instances even, a different world. You should be thrown out of your comfort zone, question things, re-evaluate your life and why it is we do the things that we do, and we also should live differently.

And despite all the marvellous things that occurred during our holiday, the places we went and the things we had and the sights and smells we witnessed…

Damn it is good to be home. Because we realised, all those little things that make home, home.

They are just little things. But the fact that your home has them, and this other place, DOESN’T… well suddenly, you house seems like the holiday locale, and the other is just slightly lacking.

Still brilliant! But not quite there, even with startling river views and breathtaking mountains in the distance.

Because downstairs is freezing and you woke at 7am on your holiday because of the super light blinds.

And that’s the way it’s meant to be. Our homes should be decked out the way we want, and we should come home happy to be there, and grateful for what we have experienced.

I will always love to travel, and I am already thinking of the next place we could possibly go… I think the whole point of travelling is to learn, educate yourself on how others live, expand your horizons, and appreciate the process.

Appreciate your world, by appreciating what is out there.

You are MEANT to come home, happy. I think that is key. I think that is what we always do. We sigh, unpack, put on the steamer, and say –

“I’m so happy we went, but I’m so glad we are home now.”

And the day we stop saying that, well it just means we will have to move.

But as long as we have 12 teaspoons in our drawer and dark curtains, that day may not come very soon 🙂

IMAG2868

 

#923 The holiday bath

There is something that I haven’t yet indulged about our time away in Hobart over the last few days.

At one stage or another, we have ALL been sick.

Hubbie was the first. Or should I say, his nasally symptoms and hoarse throat, followed him interstate and over-seas.

Baby girl was second. On the day we were planning to go to the MONA museum, she began showing symptoms of an unwell state. Not eating. Lying down. Looking sleepy.

All of this right after waking up. This was not normal for her.

And though she was determined to jump onto the ferry, her symptoms overwhelmed her, and after falling asleep on a lounge at a MONA café after we walked all over the place, she then crashed even harder on the couch back at our accommodation.

I copped it today.

Or should I say, I progressed today. Because I have had the same annoying cough, incessantly beating its way up into my throat passages and forcing itself up, scratching my insides and thudding my lungs in the process, for about 3 weeks now.

I woke feeling weak, my throat was worse, and I felt absolutely wrecked and emotional.

It’s no surprise that we have all been sick, or been more worse off at one time or another, during this holiday out of all times.

We haven’t stopped. You know that phrase, you need a holiday from your holiday? That is totally US. Because we’re just go-go-go. We’re taking it all in, trying to sight-see and experience and involve ourselves in as much as Hobart and its surrounds has to offer.

All at the expense of our health. Because we have not had a chance to breathe.

Today we still went out and did things… but there was a distinct period in the late afternoon where we were just hanging out at our rental abode. We had deliberately cleared the schedule for this time, because it was needed, as much as the sight-seeing and walking and tours and driving and scenic lookouts were needed.

And then, after I cleared it with the boss –

I decided, I needed a bath.

The boss being, baby girl of course. I had to let her know where I was disappearing off to, because God help me if she didn’t know, she would walk around the place yelling “Mama!” and any serene water spell would be immediately disturbed and broken.

I put on my pouty lips and sad face when she first joked with me that I was not allowed to go. She wanted me, all to herself. I play-pretend cried, and suddenly my wish was granted.

I headed into the bathroom, filling up the water in the bathtub, at 4:30pm.

When I sat in the bath, I was just about submerged. I relaxed as the water enveloped me, tried to settle my mind, my thoughts, and my weary spirit, and breathed…

Hold on. It wasn’t at the perfect optimum temperature. I turned only the hot faucet on, watching the water trickle out slowly for a few more minutes.

I lay there all content and steamed up afterwards. Ahh, that’s better. Submerged in the extra heat of the water, I felt my skin tingling and blistering from the temperature, knowing that small clusters of red were forming all over my skin, creating the large framework of lobster that I endeavoured to look like every time I exited out of any shower/bath.

Because if I ain’t hot, well the shower/bath ain’t worth it.

Finally I was able to relax more. The bubbles which had been so in abundance when I first set in, dispersed into puddles of flat foam, swimming easily around the bath.

I closed my mind.

Drip drip drip.

The tap wasn’t turned off all the way, and the dropping of water interrupted my thoughts for only a moment.

My mind went to the past day, to where we were eating that night, to the next day, to our bird back at home… things I had to do, whether or not baby girl should go back to kinder on Monday… but at some point these rational thoughts ceased, replaced instead by things I had heard and seen in the last few days, street names and places, with characters I did not know, and it was all flowing together in swift disconnected cohesion, though none of it was actual reality.

My body, stilled.

I was starting to very lightly dream.

Drip drip drip.

The dripping of the tap brought me back to the present. I was here in this foreign bathtub, in another person’s bathroom, with sounds of Hubbie and baby girl floating on through from the rooms above me, while I lay there in the heat of the water, drifting away, in both physical and mental form.

I allowed my eyes to rest a few more times, but as the water began to cool, my eyes began to open more frequently. My body was now hot, the kind of hot that makes you all hazy and sleepy and cloudy in the head. I lay for ages, thinking how well they were doing without bothering me, until I heard Hubbie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Then there was a knock on the door.

Since I had no time on me, I had asked him to tell me when 30 minutes was up. In fact, it was 5:20 – he had let me go way over.

I knew I had married him for a reason.

I was grateful for the time spent just being this afternoon. I was grateful that Hubbie had been kept busy with his extensive folk music collection online, and I was grateful that baby girl had been busy watching dolls on youtube.

Both of their ‘busy’s had allowed me to do NOTHING AT ALL. And it was exactly what the holiday ordered.

But the weird thing was, I could have done the exact same thing at home… and yet I had to fly 720 kilometres, just to be reminded of that fact.

Now I hope, I have reminded you too 🙂

holger-link-761436-unsplash

Photo by Holger Link on Unsplash

 

 

#922 Port Arthur Love and Loss

I never thought I would love Port Arthur.

It always seemed like such a sad place, a haunting place, and a tragic place, based on its old history of convict settlement, brutal punishments and then another horrible tragedy, the massacre of 1996.

I had heard about it, read about it, been told about it in school. I can even remember the day of the Port Arthur massacre – I was in year 7, and our teacher was telling us about it in class.

I however, never thought I would be as captivated as I was today when I visited the historical site, in person.

IMAG3169

Because how can a place with such a savage past, be so beautiful?

It is hard to imagine what it was like then – the whippings – men’s backs seeping with blood from punishment; convicts trying to escape and then freezing to death in the expansive grounds on unforgiving freezing Spring mornings; supposed ‘surgeons’ operating on sick offenders, with no real study or practice behind them – with only time and repeated surgeries making their brutal amputations more precise.

The sun was shining. It was a perfect Winter’s day, something I never thought was possible. We took a boat tour…

IMAG3214

IMAG3180

We wandered the grounds…

IMAG3261

And we just took it all in.

IMAG3291

I cannot recommend this place highly enough. It is a World Heritage site for a reason, and I am beyond grateful that I was able to visit its historic sadness and natural splendour. I urge anyone reading this, to do the same.

IMAG3380

 

#921 The ferry ride we fought for

The immediate theme apparent today soon after waking up?

“God help those trying to drive into the MONA ferry area and find parking for longer than 2 hours.”

Firstly, baby girl was not well. She went from absolutely fantastic and bubbly upon waking, to a seriously fast decline of blah.

And although we repeatedly asked her if she was sick, or sore, or was going to vomit, she continually declined the suggestions, saying she wanted to go on the boat.

We tentatively left the house, watching her carefully.

But it was meant to be even harder. The only parking’s surrounding the ferry were 2 hour slots. This was no where near enough as simply a one-way ferry ride across the river to the Museum of Old and New art (MONA) was 25 minutes.

The only 3 hour parking we found, required coins.

No credit card. JUST coins. At $3.50 an hour, did they expect me to be carrying around bags of gold on my hip? Seriously did these people just carry around bags of coins?

???

After I let out some steam bitching and moaning (or should I say, MONA-ing) about the lack of credit card facilities available on parking meters, I got some helpful info from a MONA staff person who told me there were 8 and 10 hr parking slots available, but it was a good 10 minute walk from the ferry pick up point.

Fine. Fine fine fine.

We headed there, scrounged around for gold coins, and finally, FINALLY, found a park!

Baby girl had repeatedly denied food, I’d had to force a sandwich down her during a small lunch, and she was so, so tired.

It seemed like the idea of going to MONA, wasn’t meant to be.

But alas. We GOT THERE.

We boarded the ferry, talked with the staff, and while revelling in some gorgeous and breath-taking riverside views on the other side, also wandered around the dark corners and twists and turns of this most eclectic and thought-provoking museum, holding baby girl’s hand and carrying her (because it was a tad scary).

IMAG3146

A day that was so hard to come by, was a unique experience that we came to treasure. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but sometimes, you need to do the best with what you’ve got.

Baby girl crashed enormously once we were back at our place… and yet she still said through squinty and teary eyes as she lay on the couch watching her Tangled DVD…  “best boat ever.”

🙂

IMAG3152

#920 The Real-life Zoo

Today was our first proper touristy day in Tasmania, travelling around and discovering the scenic sights, and tranquil sounds of this heart-shaped island.

We drove to Richmond, far removed in place and style from the town of the same name we know back in ol’ Melbourne town – this was a historic village in the most picturesque of settings, with buildings and houses dating to as far back as the 1800s.

It was a beautiful place to wander around in.

And although splendidly serene, the excitement didn’t kick in until we drove another 8 minutes through fields and pastures, to a Zoo.

ZooDoo.

Now THIS, was a zoo. Or you know what, maybe it wasn’t, as it was such a naturally occurring environment, that it was probably as far removed from those so-called touristic places where animals are hard to find, hidden in their sleeping corners and bored by tourist antics to get them doing something, anything.

This was the real deal. What a zoo, is expected to be, but never isn’t.

It was unreal, because as we jumped on the tour bus, we thought “ok, this should be ok…”

OK? OK? It was amazing!

We got to feed emus, and pat zebras and camels whose heads were literally coming into the open bus to get more food from the keepers!

It was as interactive as you could get.

IMAG1191

The appreciation for the simple things, the getting back to nature, to animals, to wildlife and to childlike happiness, has set the bar high for day 1! It was a gorgeous day, and at the apparently Wintery temperature of 13 degrees, well the sun was out and saying screw you to the forecast, from the sunshine-y views opposite the animal park:

IMAG2945

Just magical ♥