#525 Small portable heaters

Today I’m loving this girl

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This guy is super awesome too

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I like this black one

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And this emanating one rocks in a real chilled out, undercover way

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This other identical white one is much appreciated

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And even this ancient relic, that DOES blow warm air, while at the same time simultaneously releasing some kind of cold gust from the sides, making you need to turn it off because you just can’t take anymore cold air, well even this one is somewhat liked. Somewhat.

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All of this because our ducted gas heating broke down on us last Friday morning.

I spoke about my love for our ducted gas heating when after ages of trying to get it fixed here after Sea changing (the gas pipe leading into the house had rusted, having had no occupants in here for years before we moved in) we finally got it working after repeated, repeated, repeated visits from our gas heater/ plumbing guy.

Back then he said it was old, but the unit was really good. It was dependable.

Dude, the thing has shit itself half-way into Winter. I don’t call that overly reliable.

When it worked though, it was the BOMB. It heated us up so efficiently and quickly, that honestly, baby girl would be left red-faced as she strolled around the house with no socks. I loved the heater, and it treated us well, until I turned it on one chilly morning last Friday, and waited…

And waited…

And waited…

And then went, “Oh Damn.”

All I can hope is our heater can get fixed soon, and for the smallest amount of $$$ possible. Make it just $. In the meantime though, those above beauties are gold, and actually doing a decent job of keeping various main rooms, bathrooms and bedrooms around the house, cosy.

They are saving us immensely, especially this cold-hating girl. And yet I have to wonder…. who else in this world today, is writing a post about being grateful for a portable heater, huh? I bet you NO ONE.

Challenge: Prove me wrong!

#523 Meeting like minds

It’s been 9 months and 1 week since we moved here. A lot has changed in that time but also, very little.

On our first night we slept on solely the mattress on our bedroom floor, and I felt what was the first gust of cold seaside wind as it wafted on by from under our ensuite door.

Tonight we are freezing our arses off, because our heater has broken.

Like I said, same same. (You can be sure I’ll be damn grateful when that ancient monstrosity of a heating system is repaired).

But then, other things are beginning to change. Have changed. Hubbie found his groove, and a group of locals from the area, once he found work here. Likewise, baby girl started her first year of kinder by the beachside, and has also found little playmates here and there. They’ve both solidly positioned themselves in our new ‘hood, and meanwhile, here I am.

Here I am.

I work on the city fringe which took any meet-the-locals opportunities away from me immediately. And though I know Hubbie’s workmates, and I sometimes chat to the kinder Mums, I really wanted to find something for myself, here on my own, FOR ME.

A while back, I very accidentally stumbled across a local bloggers group on Facebook. I’d joined many local FB groups, for that whole intention: to learn, be in the know, and perhaps learn something novel, or even make new friends along the way.

I didn’t even think a group for local bloggers existed: but, so it was.

Cue today. Today I met up with some of these bloggers and their kiddies, in a post that will appear over at SmikG very soon. The kids ran amuck, while we as bloggers, positioned our cameras (who am I kidding, my phone) into every nook and cranny of the establishment we were in, taking shots here, there and everywhere. 

It was out in the open, nothing at all like any of my previous posts based on life experiences or food, or anything ever that I have written ever was.

I was OPENLY OUT as a blogger. It was fantastic. And made even more so, by meeting people, who like me, had turned online to promote a medium, for whatever art they deemed interesting to themselves: whether it was life, children, providing a service, or promoting a business, I came in, with nothing to lose, no one who knew me, and I felt as light as a feather.

Not nervous. Curious.

Not scared. Excited.

Not shy. Questioning.

Not only a blogger… but a Writer.

I loved the day, and the meeting of all of these people. I don’t know what will come of it, and how this group, or these people, will play a role in my life, or if they will play one AT ALL… but I’m excited at this new beginning our Sea change has brought us, and am hopeful that after today, many more experiences of being OUT as a Writer/Blogger, will abound.

Actually, I’m pretty damn sure this is only the beginning.

I am exceptionally grateful, indeed. 🙂

 

#486 Early morning view of the water

It’s nice when your gratitude of the day comes in at an impressively early 7:51 am.

It’s impressive that I was up at that time, even more so that I found reason to be grateful, at that time…

But I know the time, because that’s when I took the below pics:

It was a busy day for the 3 of us: me, Hubbie and baby girl. We had a chock-full day of appointments and places to be and drop-offs, and that was all before my work shift started later this afternoon. But as I got up early, opening blinds and getting things ready to start our day, I spied the above views out of our front window.

The view of the water was more of an exciting novelty when we moved in, I won’t lie. But now, we are used to it. Over time, we have found ourselves sometimes forgetting to look out and enjoy what lies naturally before us.

But just because we forget, doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate.

And this morning, in the cold stillness, the heater ramping up in the background, with the only other sound being my breathing, standing alone looking out the window with Hubbie and baby girl still in their respective beds, well, it was lovely.

A beautiful, peaceful, still and serene moment, enjoying the calm of being at one with myself.

Now I know why my Mum loves getting up early all the time 🙂

 

#466 When they say her name

Hubbie and I still clearly remember the first time we heard another child call out to baby girl. Well, I’m a bit hazy on the place, but I remember the feeling. A friend’s daughter called “baby girl!” in a playful, happy, inclusive and friendly tone, and my heart melted a little. Later on Hubbie said to me “Did you hear such and such’s daughter call out ‘baby girl?'”

He too had melted. I guess there’s something that pulls at the heart strings when a fellow child calls out to yours. Parenthood has a lot of fear and stresses in it, and one of the zillion of them is hoping your child will be liked. That they will have friends. That they will be included. That people will be kind to them.

And every time since then, when a child has gone “baby girl!” my heart beats a little more.

It’s been a big thing for me since our Sea Change. All of us are starting again in a new town, and I’m keen for baby girl to meet as many people as possible. Sure, we have lots of family and friends scattered all over the place, but this is the town she will grow up in. This is the town she’ll make those crucial childhood and teenage memories in. These are the times that will shape her, and I hope to God she has a few decent friends during her journey.

But in the meantime, we are all just getting to know each other, aren’t we? And I’ve already heard a couple occasions where a child from her kinder has called out “baby girl!” to my surprised and delighted observation, to which I usually lowly instruct “baby girl, say hi to your friend!”

Today it happened in the sweetest way.

I had picked her up from her kinder session, and as she had at the start of the day when she had prolonged walking into the foyer for sign-in, so too was she now walking slowly along the step in the railing on the side of the footpath, while I held the child-proof gate open up ahead for her.

“Baby girl, come on,” I willed her. She eventually followed, and we were both on the other side of the fence, when I heard the faintest “baby girl.”

I turned, unsure I had even heard her name, when I saw a girl from her class behind the gate, her Mum still talking to the teacher behind her.

She stepped closer and held out a little pink pony, and baby girl stepped forward to claim it. I was hesitant, trying to work out if it was baby girl’s or this other girl’s, as I didn’t want her taking a toy from another child, but also, trying to figure out if somehow it was baby girl’s, since the kids aren’t allowed to take their personal toys to kinder – in case they get lost.

Baby girl was sure it was hers, and we walked off while I worked out eventually with baby girl’s indication, that it had been in her coat pocket, and fallen out. As that became clearer and solved, the previous encounter came forward in my head and –

Melted My Heart.

Not only was it the kindness of this other young girl to return the pony toy to baby girl, but it was the sweet and gentle way with which she said her name. It struck a cord so deep, and I was happy even more so, because I have seen this girl in class and she is as cheeky as baby girl (also as cute as!), and I have spoken to her Mum on a brief occasion and gotten along with her well enough to think

‘we could be friends.’

Which feeling do you think I liked more, that I might get a friend, or that baby girl might already have one which I didn’t know about?

What do you think???

The answer is in the above. That little girl melted my heart when she said baby girl’s name, and I think it will be melting for a while yet during these school years…

I think it might be butter by the time she’s 18.

 

#371 Casual beach epiphany

These casual beach visits are happening more and more lately… partly because we are testing the literal waters of how close we are, and also, because… well, the hot season ended just yesterday.

Either way I love these visits.

It doesn’t mean however, that the warm weather has gone away. March has already brought a spectacular sunshine-y day to us, and looking at the forecast for the week ahead, things look really good.

While sitting on my beach towel watching baby girl and Hubbie in the shallow waters earlier this evening (I only ever get to sit for a few minutes at a time, IF I am lucky) with baby girl leaping into the water like a frog, and Hubbie keeping watch nearby, I turned around to look at the scenery around me.

It was a Wednesday afternoon. Lifeguards were jumping off of their red boats and practicing essential life-saving skills. A man sat in his beach box behind us, making us all jelly that he had residential property on the beach. A couple of dogs ran wild in the water. And in amongst the decent lot of people around, I spotted some casual-looking ones: straw hats, low slung beach bags, big sunnies, and oversized tops thrown over their swimwear.

I looked back to the pristine and still waters before me, glistening in the sun, and got very emotional.

This was now our neighbourhood. We were now locals, as they all were.

It was a small moment, and certainly one that has struck us with its epiphany before, but every so often, Hubbie and I will be somewhere in our ‘hood, doing something, and turn to each other and say

“Look where we are.”

We actually, dumbfound ourselves.

I love these moments. I hope they never end. The wonder and sheer surprise that life has to offer, with its marvellous and weird and trippy twists and turns.

And I hope they keep on coming, at the beach.

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#369 Mr Penn

This gratitude thread holds a fair bit of bitter-sweetness.

Let me introduce you to someone.

Mr Judda-Penn.

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He is our Indian Ringneck Parrot. I say Mr, for frivolities sake, but am slightly disappointed that he never took to the Penn name we tried to re-Christen him with when we obtained him from Hubbie’s relos. He would only respond to the name he had known with his previous owners, which was Juddy.

Hence, his hyphenated name was born. I couldn’t let go of the Penn, even if he never squawked back at me when I used it.

He… was our Indian Ringneck Parrot. I hope I can use ‘is’ again, but Hope is not only a survival technique, but a dangerous one at that. I want to Hope, but I am also scared to practice it too much.

We had him for 4ish months. And I didn’t realise how much he was a distinct presence in our home, until today. I didn’t realise how much he amused me. I didn’t realise, that part of me would miss how he would aggressively jump up near his food bowls as I tried to change his seed and water. I didn’t realise that the removal of his 4pm calls would create a silence that was cold. And I didn’t realise that when I found his cage empty this morning, that I would also feel subsequently empty, and a strong desire to move the cage elsewhere so it didn’t remind me that he was not around anymore.

He escaped, sometime this morning. He is a clever bird, and a cheeky one at that – something we are also missing. Hubbie feels betrayed. We fed him, gave him a home, gave him water baths on hot days, and played with him. Even our family and friends were beginning to get to know him. We really enjoyed having him around.

I don’t know what the next chapter in this story will be, but now that he is gone, I realise that I am grateful for his presence in our lives. He was in it for only a little while, but he made an impact. After all, he transitioned in an important part of our lives, with our Sea change.

I am also grateful to the people on the facebook community groups, those from Mornington and the surrounds, who have been sharing my lost bird posts. Even though I don’t know these people, I am amazed at the willingness of people to spread the word of our lost bird, in the chance that someone sees him on a nearby fence, bathing in a bird bath, or pecking away at fruits on a tree.

As I gazed at this view earlier tonight, I wondered, where would Judda-Penn sleep tonight? Would he have adequate shelter? Would he be safe? These thoughts made me sad.

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Goodnight Judda-Penn.

*If anyone reading this is from the Mornington area or surrounds, and comes across a bird looking like this – PLEASE contact me. Baby girl would like to blow him kisses again XOXO*

#340 Mills beach

We went over unprepared.

Just to ‘test’ the waters.

It was our first time as a family to Mills Beach in Mornington. Baby girl and I had been there once, months ago, and after I had had to chase her down the beach on multiple occasions, leaving all our belongings lying in the sand for any old seagull to snap up, I realised I couldn’t go with just her. It was a tad too hard.

Today, it was better. Not just because Hubbie was with us. The water was calmer, and the shallow waters seemed to stretch out for ages. Also, having the beach full, swimming with lifeguards, and inflatable boats about, along with the lovely warm water, made the atmosphere that much more pleasing.

We decided we would be back. Arnie style.

I mean, we lived BY the beach. This is the reason why we moved. We wanted a relaxed beach lifestyle. It wasn’t like we had to plan for the whole day, take the kitchen sink and more with us, and commit ourselves to a 5 hour stay at least because of the 90 minute drive – one way.

No. We were around the corner. If we wanted to go home and then come back 3 times like that, we sure as hell could.

Why live by the beach, when you can’t even enjoy it, and its benefits???

Hours later, and sure enough, I found myself here.

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I had a few minutes to myself. I lay down to soak up some rays, and closed my eyes, bringing my arm over my face to shield my exposed face from the direct afternoon sun.

Conversations floated over to me from left, from right. Seagulls called. There was also music in the distance. I could hear Hubbie’s voice drifting over to me from the water, as he told baby girl not to splash other people.

I breathed in. I breathed out.

Then I felt something wet dripping on my leg. I sat up. Hubbie was trickling sand over me.

“Your turn.”

It was good while it lasted. But, living in this seaside location, I know it will last, a long while yet…

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