#749 ‘Get better’ breakfast in bed

I could hear baby girl and Hubbie downstairs. He was trying to get her dressed, find socks, and asking if she wanted banana in her weetbix.

Me? I was upstairs, wallowing in self-pity.

I felt like my body was trying to destruct me from the inside-out. I was in pain, and had told Hubbie I wasn’t getting out to start the day, anytime soon.

So, the solution?


Hubbie brought me up breakfast. Just what the doctor ordered.

But I don’t meant the toast, tea or painkillers… rather, the loving husband ♥


#729 I love Main street, and let me count the ways… no. 3

Today was the first time since our holidays began, that after dropping baby girl off at kinder, Hubbie and I looked at each other and went

“Now what?”

The ‘what’ was to come in the form of Main street. Amidst the grey and drizzling weather, we found our way to a café for some brekkie. It was so quiet in Dr Fox’s, we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. It was a Monday morning, the streets outside were still waking up, and in the absence of baby girl, it just felt weird.


We looked at each other across from the table, both still part asleep. Hubbie was trying desperately hard to blink himself awake, even after downing two lattes… meanwhile I was trying my damn hardest not to die coughing after I swallowed a not so tiny chunk of pepper that was sitting precariously on the spinach of my Veggie Big Breakfast.

By the time we headed outside, the rain had temporarily ceased, and it felt a little milder.

“Now what?”

Down the street we headed, hand in hand, like some love-struck newly hooked up teenage couple who were wrecked from partying out late on the weekend – only we were about 17+ years past that, sans child, tired from trying to cram too much into life and not giving ourselves enough sleep in the process.

We headed into the Mornington Newsagency. Got cards. Read mags.

We headed into Cotton On Kids, thinking of baby girl, and got her a cute dress that would lead her straight through Autumn and all the way to Winter, while Hubbie and I then picked a top each for her for the season ahead – 2 for $25, you see.

Farrell’s bookstore on the corner brought us the Richard Branson biography and a Ned Kelly book. With more purchases in hand we headed further down, stopping to peruse a tiny something for her at the toy shop but deciding then that she had way too much already, before finally I surprisingly scored a $10 stripy cardigan at a second-hand type op/retro shop.

We had gone as far as we could, and then the rain picked up again. Time to go home (and stop spending money).

We had started the morning off quite aimlessly, floating here and then wafting there… and though we try so hard to plan our days and be as productive as possible, we find that we too need some time to just…


And the shops on offer on Main street made it wonderfully possible for us to do just that today.

♥ number 3 ♥


#681 Boxing Day fun

You need a champion breakfast to set yourself up for a big day ahead.

A big, Boxing Day breakfast.


A breakfast such as this allows you to make the most of the day and fill it to the brim with as much activity and fun as you possibly can.

It helped us put together this INSANE barbie van


It helped us get to some post-Christmas day shopping, and work the crowds.

And then later on it helped us perform some interesting ballet moves.

Ok, so the toys were baby girl’s not ours, and she had basic weetbix while we indulged in the above-shown breakfast… but with energy like hers, we sure as hell need a special boost every once in a while to keep up with her…



#645 Early tradies

There are all manner of excuses as to why us commonfolk roll our eyes and brace ourselves at the sheer mention of the supposed ‘reliability’ of tradies.

Because they are always late.

Because they don’t arrive when they say they will.

Because they don’t return your call.

Because they make promises they can’t keep.

Because they forget.

All of these reasons have to do with tradies deferring or putting off their service to you…

Which is why this morning was SUCH a surprise.

Because as I went downstairs this morning, giving myself a good 3-hour window to get my shit together before the tradies came over to commence part 1 of our kitchen demolition/renovation, I turned on my phone, and saw with some amount of trepidation, a missed call, and a voicemail message.

Uh-oh. I just KNEW it was him. The tradie.

I listened to the message, and my eyes widened, before running in to baby girl’s room and telling her to throw ANYTHING on.

“Hi SmikG, it’s tradie here… just letting you know we’ll probably be at your place about, 9:00.”

A half hour window.

I did the bare minimum, which was still good as I left feeling I had done my best in setting up the place for the guys – but consequently the bare minimum didn’t include breakfast… so I said to baby girl, “pick where you want to eat.”

And she led us to Mercetta on the Main street. Mainly because the back of the café has fake green grass and egg chairs that hang from the tree-like ceiling, with kiddies using them more as swings than adults using them as areas of refuge.

I had been stressed as hell in those 30 minutes before their surprise arrival, but the early morning start gave us a nice reason to go out and have some breakfast on a Monday morning…

And any reason is good enough reason for surprise breakfast I guess 🙂




#438 Kinder days no. 3

A week or two ago I was looking up local cafes, and came upon an awesomest of awesome cafes, with the most awesomest of awesome-looking meals, that had me immediately concocting how I was going to eat said meal.

The idea came to me quickly: ‘next time I’m free after dropping baby girl off at kinder, go there and EAT.’

Today, I went. And I ate this:


It tasted as extremely beautiful as it looked. This acai bowl had me in love at first sight, and though I got brain freeze when I took in more than necessary in my first spoonfuls, of the icy blend beneath the surface, I very quickly learnt my lesson and ate the rest of the meal, s l o w l y.

Although I love socialising, I often need the timeout to recharge and refuel, and yet I never would have thought, 10 years ago, that I would now look forward to eating out on my own.

Hint to my future Food Review from today’s experience? ‘In a nutshell,’ I will be back. 🙂

Acai bowl made me happy and grateful this morning. Goal accomplished.


#417 Easter egg hunt

One of the most rewarding parts of the day…

was not when we had hot cross buns for brekkie, that had been baked fresh in the oven minutes earlier (they were delicious but this new oven I’m working with, actually, OLD oven, burnt the bases of all my buns so that they had to be sliced off – minor annoyance)


was not when I surveyed the satisfying end result of 2-3 days of baking and preparing, all my lovely cakes presented on pink plates to be taken to family and friends (I spent a lot of that time also being grumpy, stressed and rushing about like a mad woman)


was not when we arrived at my parents place later in the day on time (we had been driving around for hours already)

was not when we cheers’d as a family and had a good swig of the strong stuff to commemorate yet another beautiful family Easter dinner together


… But, it was in the morning, during our Easter egg hunt with baby girl. Because even though we did it with her last year on Easter morning, she did it then in surprised awe, like she was still working things out. It was more wonder at why all these little eggs were in our front yard, more so than excitement.

Today was much, much different.


Hubbie scattered little eggs around the front and back yard, and then showed baby girl where he saw the Easter Bunny hop about, thereby directing her to the right spots.

She carried her green Easter bag with her, excitedly filling up the bag with chocolatey goodness, exclaiming in excited happiness, popping the eggs confidently into the bag, and listening ardently as her Dad and I seriously spoke about where else the bunny had hopped to, and what else we might find…

and then we came to the ‘piece de resistance,’ which, hidden amongst a bush, was this


A Frozen-themed tin chest. Filled with more chocolate eggs of course.

Seeing that smile on baby girl’s face, why, we could almost do an Easter egg hunt every day, just to see that beautiful face light up with happiness the way it did.

Happy Easter All 🙂 Hope yours was a special and memorable one.


#416 A Writer’s Dream

Today, I officially became a writer.

This is because I lived out a dream. The dream, of all wannabe writers out there.

It all started a few days ago.

During the week my boss had asked me if I could do a 9-5er on my next shift, being Saturday. I usually work early shifts on Saturdays, for 2 reasons:

Getting to work early means I get out earlier, therefore having more time to spend with my family later, going out/shopping/dining/coffee-ing/

Also, leaving the house so early means that baby girl is still sleeping when I leave. She wakes up, MIL is there, they cuddle in bed, and all is good in the world. Hubbie and I both usually work Saturdays, and this routine is great. There are no tears, no tantrums, no pathetic displays, from ANYONE. And baby girl is unfazed too… because she doesn’t see us leave.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Likewise, don’t rock the boat. Having her still asleep when I leave the house is MORE than perfect.

Working a 9-5 shift however, posed a conundrum. Would I get up later? Undoubtedly so. This would cause possible issues. Would baby girl cry as she watched me leave? Would she have a hissy-fit, therefore making the rest of my MILs day exceptionally hard?

Simultaneously, as all this was circling around in my head, a work friend of mine was telling me about how she loved the bakery, Banjo’s. Being Tassie-born, the bakery there is prevalent, a part of most people’s upbringing, providing her with much nostalgia and sweet (and savoury) memories. However where her old grounds has a Banjo’s on every corner, in Victoria there are only two: one in regional Victoria, and the other in the town of the Morning, my new home turf.

I was telling her how I would bring in some special requests next time we worked together, saying I would drop by the bakery before my work shift to satisfy her Banjo cravings, when suddenly, an idea started to emerge.

It crept up and up, like a flower rising to face the sun’s beams, ’til suddenly, everything was perfect and the thought was standing there, alone, shining in all its immaculate glory.

This morning, I got up with Hubbie, and left the house almost as normal. By 6:30, I had parked minutes away from home.

Across from Banjo’s.

And inside I walked, with my…




It has been my long-held, deeply sought after ideal to write in a café. This dream of mine was so strong, it was there even before I realised I wanted to be a writer. I mean, the dream kind of came with the lifestyle choice. The vision of being cosied up in a café, writing to your heart’s content, eating food and sipping on coffee while the world rolled on by, and idling there like you had nowhere pressing to go, well that just looked so absolutely unreal and fantastically special for me.

I didn’t think I could get to do anything like that, ’til long long long after I had another kid, and then they were both in school. So like, 5 years or something.

But, it happened.

I sat in Banjo’s for over an hour. It wasn’t the kind of café I had dreamed of writing in, but today, for my first time, it would have to do. I ordered an egg and bacon toastie and while I waited for it (they were still opening so they couldn’t make my order straight away- I had been warned) I sipped on some oj, and I typed.

And typed. I wrote personal stuff. And I reviewed my story, squinting at the screen critically and re-reading several passages 15 times, ’til I realised, I NEEDED TO EAT.

Driving to work on an empty stomach is far different to writing on an empty stomach. The former is a default activity that requires little effort when it is a regular route. The latter requires the head.

Head requires food.

I didn’t have a coffee either (some coffee snob I am) since I can’t drink it on an empty stomach  – the beans just rattle my head. When my toastie did come, I scoffed the deliciousness down, and then all was good.


I had still been productive though, and written about 45 minutes of the time. As I headed off I took some things with me: some snacks and some lunch for work… and also, a 6 pack of hot cross buns for my work colleague.

They’re currently sitting at her desk, waiting for her surprised face to turn up. She didn’t work today, but she sure as hell will get a lovely Happy Easter surprise tomorrow on her work shift.

And there you go, 3 events coincided brilliantly together this morning to create a happy harmony. I left the house early as preferred to keep baby girl in her happy routine; I got some memory-making buns for a work colleague; and I lived out my fantasy of writing in a café.

Gratitude done, by 7:50am. Is that a record? No, of course not 🙂

Now that I’ve broken the café-writing seal, I think a lot of re-occurrences will now follow… I may just volunteer for more 9-5 Saturday shifts… and I do have to get the café food arrival timing correct, and make sure I get coffee next time, and a proper window seat…

We can’t get these things right the first time… that would leave out the fun now, wouldn’t it? 😉