Noah (with Mercedes) and Chooch (with Charlotte)...
Chooch with Will (above) and Eddy (below)
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
O what a night
What a weekend, really. This is the summer of FUN. Last weekend was the ultimate in fun. It included:
Thank you for coming, Diggins and McPhersons. (And thank you to special guest, Stephen.) You rejuvenate our souls and share the fire in our bellies. You tolerate our tantrums and laugh your heads off with us too. For all this and more, we love you. Come again soon.
We have so much to be grateful for.
Noah: current king of the jetty-jump
- jumping off jetties
- all children and many adults being towed by Jules on a "doughnut"
- air-guitar on the top deck to the Gunners (O my, Guns & Roses. Who would have known that I do indeed know the lyrics to Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty.... ?? Something to do with my youth.)
- Jamie's garlic chilli prawns
- tea drinking and newspaper reading
- Cranium (and a very uncharacteristic loss for the girls)
- new friends
- brunch at the Buddha Belly
- happy children
- overwhelmed, tired children
- children who were kept awake way too late by their very loud parents.
Thank you for coming, Diggins and McPhersons. (And thank you to special guest, Stephen.) You rejuvenate our souls and share the fire in our bellies. You tolerate our tantrums and laugh your heads off with us too. For all this and more, we love you. Come again soon.
We have so much to be grateful for.
Noah: current king of the jetty-jumpThursday, January 6, 2011
return of the crazy mama
It's a rainy, Summer, Wednesday evening and I find myself in a skanky hotel.
No, I'm not 16, or 19, or 21, or 23... though I found myself in more than one skanky hotel back then. Nor am I in Sydney, Florence or Tel Aviv.
I'm in the Blue Mountains with my two kiddles sleeping fitfully, in hard beds with hard pillows. We're very close to a railway line, but the rumbling railway isn't the only thing reminding me of Grandma's house. This hotel smells like a Grandma's house, only I think Grandma hasn't lived here for a looooong time. Perhaps the sheets have been changed, but nothing feels very fresh.
I thought such an old hotel would be a cool experience for my children... an adventure! But the white light beside my bed is way too bright, and just wait til you hear the story of dinner:
It began hopefully enough. Dinner, we were told, would be served from 6.30pm. By then the 5 young children in our company were very hungry. The dining room (with it's olde worlde charme) looked challenging for the parental management team (another Mama and me) but we tried our best to keeep all 5 little bums on seats, sitting nicely, quietly waiting, with no toilet words coming from their little mouths. We ordered 4 kids fish & chips, one kids' bolognaise, 2 Scotch fillets and vegetables.
"Sorry, possibly no spag bol, and um, maybe vegetables, but um we might not have any of those either."
When we entered the dining room, we were the only guests. After 5 minutes, a couple had arrived. One hour later: kids were fidgety and whining, the 2 other guests had their meals but there were no meals in sight for our table. After 1 hour and 10 minutes we were given a salad to share amongst the children. What a lovely thought... leaves, a scrap of tomato, 2 scraps of cucumber, raw onion and balsamic vinegar for the kiddies. Thanks.
Another 20 minutes passed and finally some scrappy fish and chips were served and devoured. Need I point out that we had entered the dining room at 6.30, it was now 8pm and the children are aged 9, 7 and 4 years. By the time the Scotch fillets arrived, I could have cried. My steak was large, slumped, tough, blackened and cold. It was most unpleasant to chew. The chef (if indeed there was one) had found some vegetables and had proceeded to load our plates with limp snow peas, raw cauliflower chunks and huge, half-peeled chunks of carrot. Really, what could have transpired in that kitchen? Was the chef only on work experience? Did he hate his job? Perhaps the chef was on leave (the house-keeper certainly was) and the hotel manager had done a poor impersonation?
So I drifted off to sleep asking myself: Why? Why? Why do you do it? Why do you think a mama road trip will be fun and adventurous? Sister, you live on an ISLAND! Learn to fish, enjoy the noise of the kids jumping around the island, zoom around in your boat! Sleep peacefully in your own comfy bed under your most delicious mozzie net!
Ahhh, but then we wouldn't have seen our friends who now live in the mountains. We wouldn't have enjoyed a bush walk down to the bottom of Minnehaha falls, where we imagined the strong women who have journeyed to birth there. We wouldn't have felt the cool water at the bottom and heard the rumbling thunder that beckoned us back up over the rocks and through the bush while the storm brewed around us.
Quote of the day from Choochie, wet and crying the whole way up from the Minnehaha Falls:
"I did NOT want to come to this place!"
PS. I know there's a lot to catch up on... Christmas festivals, the Island dog race, our first Island Christmas and New Year. It's all coming... As soon as I catch my breath. This place is socially exhausting!!
No, I'm not 16, or 19, or 21, or 23... though I found myself in more than one skanky hotel back then. Nor am I in Sydney, Florence or Tel Aviv.
I'm in the Blue Mountains with my two kiddles sleeping fitfully, in hard beds with hard pillows. We're very close to a railway line, but the rumbling railway isn't the only thing reminding me of Grandma's house. This hotel smells like a Grandma's house, only I think Grandma hasn't lived here for a looooong time. Perhaps the sheets have been changed, but nothing feels very fresh.
I thought such an old hotel would be a cool experience for my children... an adventure! But the white light beside my bed is way too bright, and just wait til you hear the story of dinner:
It began hopefully enough. Dinner, we were told, would be served from 6.30pm. By then the 5 young children in our company were very hungry. The dining room (with it's olde worlde charme) looked challenging for the parental management team (another Mama and me) but we tried our best to keeep all 5 little bums on seats, sitting nicely, quietly waiting, with no toilet words coming from their little mouths. We ordered 4 kids fish & chips, one kids' bolognaise, 2 Scotch fillets and vegetables.
"Sorry, possibly no spag bol, and um, maybe vegetables, but um we might not have any of those either."
When we entered the dining room, we were the only guests. After 5 minutes, a couple had arrived. One hour later: kids were fidgety and whining, the 2 other guests had their meals but there were no meals in sight for our table. After 1 hour and 10 minutes we were given a salad to share amongst the children. What a lovely thought... leaves, a scrap of tomato, 2 scraps of cucumber, raw onion and balsamic vinegar for the kiddies. Thanks.
Another 20 minutes passed and finally some scrappy fish and chips were served and devoured. Need I point out that we had entered the dining room at 6.30, it was now 8pm and the children are aged 9, 7 and 4 years. By the time the Scotch fillets arrived, I could have cried. My steak was large, slumped, tough, blackened and cold. It was most unpleasant to chew. The chef (if indeed there was one) had found some vegetables and had proceeded to load our plates with limp snow peas, raw cauliflower chunks and huge, half-peeled chunks of carrot. Really, what could have transpired in that kitchen? Was the chef only on work experience? Did he hate his job? Perhaps the chef was on leave (the house-keeper certainly was) and the hotel manager had done a poor impersonation?
So I drifted off to sleep asking myself: Why? Why? Why do you do it? Why do you think a mama road trip will be fun and adventurous? Sister, you live on an ISLAND! Learn to fish, enjoy the noise of the kids jumping around the island, zoom around in your boat! Sleep peacefully in your own comfy bed under your most delicious mozzie net!
Ahhh, but then we wouldn't have seen our friends who now live in the mountains. We wouldn't have enjoyed a bush walk down to the bottom of Minnehaha falls, where we imagined the strong women who have journeyed to birth there. We wouldn't have felt the cool water at the bottom and heard the rumbling thunder that beckoned us back up over the rocks and through the bush while the storm brewed around us.
Quote of the day from Choochie, wet and crying the whole way up from the Minnehaha Falls:
"I did NOT want to come to this place!"
PS. I know there's a lot to catch up on... Christmas festivals, the Island dog race, our first Island Christmas and New Year. It's all coming... As soon as I catch my breath. This place is socially exhausting!!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Boys and boats
Four boats deep at the commuter wharf
a nice spot for a Friday evening picnic
Some might think that an inability to see over the steering wheel would present a problem when driving a boat. We like to think that we're open-minded.
A 7 yr old heart, singing.Saturday, December 11, 2010
another arrival
It is the season of the arrival.
Last week it was the girls. O how nicely they have settled in. They are getting bigger by the day and now have three extra friends to play with! Crayon, Chalkey and Fumee arrived at the Chook Coop Co-op last weekend. Today the girls pecked away through the woodpile termites and nasturtiums and managed to avoid the lawn mower. They were all snuggled together when I checked on them this evening.
This week's arrival is... another barbeque! How many barbeques does one family need? Let's hope it's not the same number as fishing rods. To be fair to the Zimbabwean, this barbeque was delivered free with something else. It will be sworn in to Island life tomorrow. I'm hopeful that even I could use this one! And one of the old bbq's has retired to the back-yard to become my potting table. That brings us back down to 3.
So.. the other (very exciting) arrival this week was the new boat. Ah... little, white boat... How we have waited for you! Some have been pondering you for as many as four long months. Others have heard nothing but ponderings about you. But we are all so happy you are here. Such new freedom and hope for discovery! Such personal humiliation as we learn to navigate you without crashing - rather unceremoniously - into the public wharf, only to then take half an hour to tie you securely to the jetty.
You will get used to the jostling (ok, more like clunking), little white boat. Soon you won't mind that you're becoming scratched and beaten. You'll be just like Noddy's little red car and "parp parp" when we approach, eager to take us safely wherever we'd like to go. You'll become accustomed to the clambering up your ladder. We'll learn to tie you with the twist of a wrist and a wriggle of a finger. Johnno must already be your favourite, as he's doing very well at the parking and driving bit already.
The little white boat has made this weekend feel as fresh and exciting as our first weekend on the island. Last night at dusk, the four of us were sitting in her, just drifting, on the edge of the national park, smiling hearts opening up to the evening sounds coming from the bush. The boys love her and have both already taken great pride in driving her, tying up their body boards to her railings, jumping off her stern into the water and tying her ropes to the jetty. The learning curve is steep for Johnno and I. With the added stresses pertaining to child safety, we sometimes forget to take a breath, sit back and watch the boys' faces.
But there will be time. We did all sit on the jetty today, dripping wet, sharing snacks with new friends, sun shining on our faces. The new friends followed us home, stayed for dinner, and beers, and tea. We'll see more of them tomorrow whilst at the community café. We have so much to learn and explore together.
Last week it was the girls. O how nicely they have settled in. They are getting bigger by the day and now have three extra friends to play with! Crayon, Chalkey and Fumee arrived at the Chook Coop Co-op last weekend. Today the girls pecked away through the woodpile termites and nasturtiums and managed to avoid the lawn mower. They were all snuggled together when I checked on them this evening.
This week's arrival is... another barbeque! How many barbeques does one family need? Let's hope it's not the same number as fishing rods. To be fair to the Zimbabwean, this barbeque was delivered free with something else. It will be sworn in to Island life tomorrow. I'm hopeful that even I could use this one! And one of the old bbq's has retired to the back-yard to become my potting table. That brings us back down to 3.
So.. the other (very exciting) arrival this week was the new boat. Ah... little, white boat... How we have waited for you! Some have been pondering you for as many as four long months. Others have heard nothing but ponderings about you. But we are all so happy you are here. Such new freedom and hope for discovery! Such personal humiliation as we learn to navigate you without crashing - rather unceremoniously - into the public wharf, only to then take half an hour to tie you securely to the jetty.
You will get used to the jostling (ok, more like clunking), little white boat. Soon you won't mind that you're becoming scratched and beaten. You'll be just like Noddy's little red car and "parp parp" when we approach, eager to take us safely wherever we'd like to go. You'll become accustomed to the clambering up your ladder. We'll learn to tie you with the twist of a wrist and a wriggle of a finger. Johnno must already be your favourite, as he's doing very well at the parking and driving bit already.
The little white boat has made this weekend feel as fresh and exciting as our first weekend on the island. Last night at dusk, the four of us were sitting in her, just drifting, on the edge of the national park, smiling hearts opening up to the evening sounds coming from the bush. The boys love her and have both already taken great pride in driving her, tying up their body boards to her railings, jumping off her stern into the water and tying her ropes to the jetty. The learning curve is steep for Johnno and I. With the added stresses pertaining to child safety, we sometimes forget to take a breath, sit back and watch the boys' faces.
But there will be time. We did all sit on the jetty today, dripping wet, sharing snacks with new friends, sun shining on our faces. The new friends followed us home, stayed for dinner, and beers, and tea. We'll see more of them tomorrow whilst at the community café. We have so much to learn and explore together.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Calling for girlie reinforcements
Despite my bad moods of late, something quite exciting arrived here yesterday...
our first three chickens!
What a grumpy grumpy mama I've been. Can't think why. Perhaps it's because each time I turn around those two naughty little boyks are up to something: waggling naked body parts off the top deck of our house to passing traffic; breaking my key ring and scattering my keys around the house without telling me; stealing chocolate chip cookies before I've even gotten out of bed in the morning.
Or perhaps it was the disrobing of raincoats and gumboots whilst still actually out in the rain so that everything became wet inside and out and muddy all over. It could have been the way they scattered various precious family christmas decorations over the floor; waking me in the middle of the night to tell me their bed is wet; demanding food all day. Or perhaps it was their refusal to cease jumping in and out of other people's boats, untying ropes, hauling in anchors and letting boats drift around in the water!
I feel like I'm a crazy woman. The rain looks beautiful, it really does. The water and bush surrounding us is glistening. But our water tanks are actually overflowing (what does one do when one's water tank overflows??) and when the boys play outside I despair at the croup that may descend on us at midnight. Ha! That's it! Tomorrow I'll fill the bath (and it's a BIG bath!) and let them play in that. It may not be as satisfying as the boats down at the jetty but it might just buy me half an hour of peace. Ahhhh.
Where was I? O, yes. The chookies. So, you see, I think to be a truly crazy woman - but also deeply satisfied - a woman needs chooks. Just as my house was made complete with a big timber table for craft, my backyard is almost complete with the addition of chooks.
We bought our chooks from a delightful local nursery [New Leaf in Elanora Heights] which even had a notice board for chook natural remedies. Then off we set for the ferry - a crazy woman armed with a cat cage holding our 3 new precious girls, 3 bags of feed, a feeder, 2 children who won't listen to a word I say when it comes to boating and ferry safety, 2 school bags and a life jacket. And it was raining. O and I was also carrying a pot of flowers. Did I mention "craaaaazy woman"?
I'm not an expert on the psychology of chooks (yet) so I'm peering into the chook pen every now and then, clucking away, trying to bond with my girls - make them feel at home. I've added garlic to their drinking water (to boost their immune systems), generously thrown in some rice porridge and peaches and homemade multigrain bread. I've lovingly tied a tarp' over their pen, just to ensure that they don't get too soggy. And I've discovered that Noah and Chooch already know how to handle chooks, much better than I. My 4 year old gave me a lesson (he's been talking to chooks for a year already, Noah for 4!). As annoying as I'm finding them today, those boys still warm my heart when they have a chook tucked under their arm (or when they do breast-stroke at swimming).
Noah has named his girl Mercedes, after his favourite girl in 6th class.
Choochie named his Charlotte (possibly a reference to Charlotte's web?).
And the third? Well, the Zimbabwean and I have named her Ruby Tuesday Nandos. There's something comforting in that name for me. Perhaps it's just putting a name to the kind of crazy I'm feeling this week. When I call her ["here Bokbokbok... Ruby Tuesday Nandos chook chook chookieeeee!"] I really do feel like I'm letting my freak flag fly.
(I promise there will be photos soon)
our first three chickens!
What a grumpy grumpy mama I've been. Can't think why. Perhaps it's because each time I turn around those two naughty little boyks are up to something: waggling naked body parts off the top deck of our house to passing traffic; breaking my key ring and scattering my keys around the house without telling me; stealing chocolate chip cookies before I've even gotten out of bed in the morning.
Or perhaps it was the disrobing of raincoats and gumboots whilst still actually out in the rain so that everything became wet inside and out and muddy all over. It could have been the way they scattered various precious family christmas decorations over the floor; waking me in the middle of the night to tell me their bed is wet; demanding food all day. Or perhaps it was their refusal to cease jumping in and out of other people's boats, untying ropes, hauling in anchors and letting boats drift around in the water!
I feel like I'm a crazy woman. The rain looks beautiful, it really does. The water and bush surrounding us is glistening. But our water tanks are actually overflowing (what does one do when one's water tank overflows??) and when the boys play outside I despair at the croup that may descend on us at midnight. Ha! That's it! Tomorrow I'll fill the bath (and it's a BIG bath!) and let them play in that. It may not be as satisfying as the boats down at the jetty but it might just buy me half an hour of peace. Ahhhh.
Where was I? O, yes. The chookies. So, you see, I think to be a truly crazy woman - but also deeply satisfied - a woman needs chooks. Just as my house was made complete with a big timber table for craft, my backyard is almost complete with the addition of chooks.
We bought our chooks from a delightful local nursery [New Leaf in Elanora Heights] which even had a notice board for chook natural remedies. Then off we set for the ferry - a crazy woman armed with a cat cage holding our 3 new precious girls, 3 bags of feed, a feeder, 2 children who won't listen to a word I say when it comes to boating and ferry safety, 2 school bags and a life jacket. And it was raining. O and I was also carrying a pot of flowers. Did I mention "craaaaazy woman"?
I'm not an expert on the psychology of chooks (yet) so I'm peering into the chook pen every now and then, clucking away, trying to bond with my girls - make them feel at home. I've added garlic to their drinking water (to boost their immune systems), generously thrown in some rice porridge and peaches and homemade multigrain bread. I've lovingly tied a tarp' over their pen, just to ensure that they don't get too soggy. And I've discovered that Noah and Chooch already know how to handle chooks, much better than I. My 4 year old gave me a lesson (he's been talking to chooks for a year already, Noah for 4!). As annoying as I'm finding them today, those boys still warm my heart when they have a chook tucked under their arm (or when they do breast-stroke at swimming).
Noah has named his girl Mercedes, after his favourite girl in 6th class.
Choochie named his Charlotte (possibly a reference to Charlotte's web?).
And the third? Well, the Zimbabwean and I have named her Ruby Tuesday Nandos. There's something comforting in that name for me. Perhaps it's just putting a name to the kind of crazy I'm feeling this week. When I call her ["here Bokbokbok... Ruby Tuesday Nandos chook chook chookieeeee!"] I really do feel like I'm letting my freak flag fly.
(I promise there will be photos soon)
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