Hell, isn't it? But if I don't start with the good intentions, then there is no hope, is there? Resolutions, schmesolutions. I've made them before, not always to great acclaim, and the new year variety is all a bit ho hum, yadda, yadda, sure Tracey...

My head is spinning with the various things I should be doing. They range from the Cleaning variety (of which there is much too much) to the Catch Up With All The Stuff You Were Meant To Do For Christmas variety, to the Put Plans Into Action variety. Like Plans for 2009 - our Tassie trip for one. And the Lets Get On With The House Renovation plan. And, foremost, the Get Off Your Bum and Lose The Weight You Have Inexplicably Put On Since November plan.

So what has been chewing up my time these past couple of days? I decided to finally sign up for Facebook, that's what. What the hell? Where was that on the List of Things that Need Doing Urgently?

*sighs*

The road to hell is actually paved with procrastination and distractions.

I did learn an interesting new word today from an article in Saturday's newspaper: "Staycationing". So now I have a name for what we just did. You're welcome, local economy. Though heaven knows, I've tried to avoid the shops since Christmas. From the crowds in the shopping centres you'd have to seriously query that there is any sort of economic crisis. My god, yesterday there were so many people in one place, and on MY mobile phone network (Yes. Optus. YOU.) I couldn't get texts or calls out. Or in as it turned out. This was kind of inconvenient when I was in the middle of agreeing to meet up with Marc for lunch. I found him eventually, but not till we'd wasted half an hour of his precious lunch hour, never mind my sanity. His text telling me time and place came in 15 minutes after we'd managed to meet up.

So today?

Stuffing around on Facebook, trying to figure out how it works, how you search for people, how you network. [I have no idea why this is suddenly so important to me when I have, up until now, dismissed it.]

I've caught up with the hilarious entries on notalwaysright.com

I have read others' blogs, of course.

And here I am doing a blog post.

I am, at least, going to a holiday swimming squad class tonight. Heaven knows I need the exercise.

Meanwhile, it's 35 degrees out there. It is a bit cooler sitting here with a sea breeze, thankfully, wafting through the french doors - this is the coolest place in the house, which is probably another reason why I'm loathe to get up. At some point in the next hour I need to figure out what to prepare for dinner - preferably without needing to go out to any shops. The staycation is over, Trace. The easy BBQ meal option is again relegated to weekends when the BBQing King is around to cook it, and it's back to agonising over what feed the troops for dinner.

Please tell me I am not the only one who struggles with good intentions but many distractions.
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Labels: holidays

Marc went back to work today, so the Family Holidays are kind of officially over. There are still almost 4 weeks standing in between me and the relative freedom that Back to School represents. (Although the term time after school insanity kind of cancels that out.) But then, the grand plan is for me to enrol in a full year (almost full time) TAFE course this year, so *whooshka* - there goes any thoughts of me and any sort of swanning around with some ME time. But more about that next post or two.

The last few days of our hometime holiday wound down to a bit of an anticlimax. Friday's grey skies (and thus no sun, sand and surf) were given a bit of a lift; Marc, in a moment of weakness, had suggested that we let the kids take a friend each to the annual local summer holiday amusement carnival. It proved successful, if not expensive.. The grey skies led to a bit of rain, but I suppose that was provident - it kept the crowds away, so there was no queueing. (And only a bit of grumbling from me.) Just watching the kids on the rides is vicarious entertainment in itself. I could feel a stupid grin on my face as I watched them. (Except for watching Ali and friend on the Skywalker*- that just freaked me RIGHT out.)

Photo time:

Yes, that is a boy friend with #1. We have only just met him too. If you can count a noisy carnival atmosphere as "meeting". Apparently we are scary and/or embarrassing, and/or excruciating so we had not been entitled to meet him, up until the drawcard of an amusement carnival. (And that's about as much as I can say on THAT without being further pilloried for being whatever it is that I am.)

#2 and friend - or rather friend + #2 - preparing for one of the tamer rides.

* And now, I am posting this youtube video to demonstrate the Skywalker, because even if we had managed to take a picture (given that we forgot the camera, and the above shots were taken on Marc's phone) it could not go anywhere near demonstrating how a mother might be feeling watching her baby UP THERE! DOING THAT!

This was taken by someone at the EasterShow this year. Same ride. First 2 minutes will give you the idea.

Anyway, they survived. Without a silly grin on Mum's face. Speaking of silly grins, the Mum and Dad had a go on the old Cha-Cha (aka Whizzer), for old time's sake. And #3 was braver than we've ever seen her, helped by the fact that the friend she took was not pushy about encouraging her to have go on some rides that looked ever so slightly scary. We took them both on the Hurricane, which was a HUGE thing for Zoe - she needed Dad's protective arms for that one. (I screamed too.) And so a happy and carefree time was briefly had by all. (As long as I try not to think about value for money...!)

Because we'd been enjoying our days of sun, sand and surf, and generally lolling about, we had left it till the bitter end to pay a quick "Christmas" visit to Marc's mum. We'll just duck down to Tea Gardens on Saturday afternoon, we said. And stay the night, and come back Sunday. Is it an Australian thing to use the words "duck down" - meaning a 'quick trip' - for a 4 hour Plus drive? Each way? And to then NOT factor in holiday traffic on the Pacific Highway (caused by extensive kilometres of roadworks, and merge-into-one-lane factor AND the one-set-of-traffic-lights factor of soon to be bypassed towns?) And also to NOT factor in the IDIOT factor of holiday drivers who can't even build their speed back up to the 80kph (for roadworks) limit when the traffic DOES dissipate and spread out?!

So a four hour drive became an over 5 hour drive, with quite some time crawling along as per above, and we cursed our the stupidity of our timing. But we think Nana appreciated the visit.

Labels: holidays

Bell Creek Canyon. Blue Mountains. NSW.
Tuesday 8th January 2008.

It's a bit hard to know how to write up our canyoning trip with Cait and Ali last week. It's probably easier to let the pictures tell the story, with a few comments here and there. I'm planning on putting all the photos up on a webpage sometime, so these are just the 'best of'. (OK, so there are quite a few - I can't help myself!)

These were taken with our litte waterproof Pentax Optio W20... Taking photos in canyons is a bit of a challenge because of the water (and thus waterproofing issues) and the light contrasts. Some parts are so dark, but punctuated with shafts of bright sunlight streaming down, providing a bit much of a challenge for an auto focus camera. We are also still learning about the best setting to use in what situation, and also discovered that Cait's method of carrying it while we were liloing (stuffed down the front of her wetsuit) caused the lens to fog up, and then we lost quite a few photos to some combination of the flash light bouncing off the fog, the steam, water droplets etc.

All the other times we'd done this canyon (and Marc had done it a few more times "BT" - ie. 'Before Tracey' )... we'd used two cars, doing a car shuffle so one is left at the start, several kilometres via road from where you walk out into civilisation and the car with the esky full of ice and cold beer!).. With that route we'd navigated our way mostly through untracked bush (but mostly downhill) till we hit a creek that is a tributary of Bell Creek.. and the log abseil (as you'll see below.)

This year we didn't have a second vehicle, so we followed a route in as described in one of the published canyoning guides. I'm here to say I'd rather do it the old way - as this walk in took us down into another canyon (DeFaurs) and back up the other side, over the hill, and navigating through the bush till we found our way down into the aforementioned tributary. No wonder the canyon tour groups now appear to be using our original way. (Ref. our attempt to do this canyon last year.)

The walk in alone took us 4 hours! So we had lunch (at 12.00) before wetsuiting up, and venturing into the canyon part of the trip. Both the tributary, and Bells itself, vary between very narrow enclosed sections - and Bell has deep dark pools requiring a lilo to navigate - occasionally opening up to several metres wide, bathed in sunlight, with sheer cliffs above. Other parts you need you need to trundle up and down, over and around huge boulders (and a couple of times we needed a handline to get down - one in particular where we once used to edge down a conveniently placed branch!)

Marc has done a Google Earth .kmz file of the trip, which, if you are so inclined and are into Google Earthing stuff, you can download from here.

So, let the photos tell the story...


Rest stop on the way in. I'm sure the girls wondered how the hell we were going to descend way down *there*. Even I was wondering, because our usual method seemed to take us down gradually.



Dunlop Volleys Rule OK.

The only shoe we would canyon in, and take our kids canyoning in. Why? You need some tyres with grip when you are walking on wet, slippery rocks.



Handline into DuFaur Creek canyon. I'd never done this particular descent before, ever, so I had even more butterflies in my stomach than I did already for the log handline (see later.) Plus I had extra butterflies watching the girls go down before me! Many butterflies.

As it turned out I did pretty well, earning myself a compliment: "You've still got it!" he said.



Then back up the other side. If I look a bit tired it's after the adrenalin from the 'narrow ledge' where you climb out of DuFaur's. Where Marc edged along, scrambled up, then dropped a handline down to the girls and me so we could navigate it more safely. Nothing like dangling your kids above a big drop for the nerves of a mother. (OK, so they weren't dangling. It was just a very narrow bloody ledge!)




Yabby! More commonly blue, the ones you see down in this particular area of canyons are orange. Can only think that they are that colour to blend in with the rust coloured rock.



"The log" handline. Even though I'd successfully done this (again)'post-children' a few years ago, I still always build it up in my mind to be harder than it is. You edge down the log, using friction as well as the handline as a brake... as Ali is doing in this photo... then about where she is, you have to flip over onto your tummy, hugging the log, then stretch your right leg out to a (convenient) little groove.. then heave yourself across. (With a bit of help from Marc.) Needless to say, seeing Ali has the shortest legs, it was the biggest challenge for her!




Even the parts which open out are awesomely beautiful.



The liloing part.. which is awesome. Some parts are so narrow you have to tip the end of the lilo sideways, and push yourself through...


Sometimes it's quicker paddling backwards. The downside is you can't see where you're going so easily!


(You know, we once did this canyon at night!... though as I did it this time I was quite in awe that I had. We had headlamps (though Marc forgot his, and had to use a penlight in his mouth!). In this stretch when you turned the lights off, the glowworms were spectacular!)



The chosen ones?


Finally, the last stretch ... after joining the Wollangambe River. Part liloing, part walking through shallower pools, up and over slippery rocks etc.

This was about 6pm! We then had to get out of our wetsuits, deflate the lilos, pack them both (wet, and thus heavier!) into our packs, and walk back 'up' to the car. Fortunately a shorter trip than the walk in. It took us about an hour, making the whole day close enough to 12 hours.

Yep, we were tired little vegemites! (Cait is looking a bit weary there isn't she?...) Although I have been more stuffed on other walks out of canyons. Very proud of the girls! And myself actually.. because I've still got it, and still love it, at 45!

And Marc has just reminded me that one of the best parts was that we didn't see another person ALL DAY!!

Labels: canyoning, holidays

We arrived home about 10.30 last night, and apart from the weather... (overcast and showery).. and the mountain of washing, and general housekeeping tasks facing us.. it is Oh So Good to be home.

Yesterday was a mammoth day, beginning with a few hours of packing and cleaning. Once we were on the road we had two stops (at family) then another two stops for meals. On the first leg to Sydney we heard a screeching sound emanating from under the bonnet, which turned out to be an overstretched and slipping air-con belt. No more air conditioning for the trip home. It was a Sunday of course, and even if we'd managed to pick up a new belt, Marc didn't have the tools with him to fit it. Naturally the temperature soared, hitting the mid-30's (around 100F) and so we sweltered the two hours from Sydney to Tea Gardens and wondered how the hell we used to survive summer car trips without airconditioning. (And it is not that long ago that we did so!) Talk about going soft.

Once we hit Tea Gardens we were favoured with a sea breeze, and so we opted to take the slightly longer route home, heading north near the beach, and crossing the Myall Lakes on a car ferry, and driving a bit of dirt road till we rejoined the Pacific Hwy at Buladelah. It may have taken longer, but it was a pleasant change of scenery. It skipped a tedious part of the Pacific Highway alongside a stretch of roadworks (and where we got caught in traffic the other week) and being later in the afternoon, a lot cooler. A dinner stop at Kempsey meant driving the last leg in the dark, but it was a whole lot more pleasant than that god-awful heat of the middle of the day.

But the best part about being home has to be being back in our own bed. For various reasons the three beds we slept in while away were shockers, and none of them conducive to being able to shuffle close for a cuddle (then roll away when he starts snoring in your ear!) let alone a decent night's sleep.

The first two nights were on a brand new queen size bed, but while Marc found it ok, it was too hard for my back, and I found myself even dreaming of getting myself into a hot shower just to get myself moving again - and that was what I had to do each morning.

The next two nights at my parents' place was in their double spare bed, and seeing we are used to a queen size, it always feels squishy. If you try to roll over you either roll smack into each other, or off the side of the bed, and Marc hates it even more given his feet hang over the edge. We usually limit stays at my parents' house because of the damn bed (among other things!)

Then, for the past week at the family holiday house we found that my in-laws' queen size bed had been ruined over time, I guess, by a combination of weight (my MIL is not a small woman) and soft springs. The springs on each side of the bed had more or less collapsed, moreso on the side I usually sleep on, and I had to wedge a spare pillow under my right hip to keep myself on an even keel. With the other side of the bed also slightly collapsed, it made for a ridge line running down the middle of the bed - so there may as well have been a plank of 4 x 2 running down the middle to separate us! The last two nights I took the less-collapsed side, given I'd managed to hurt my right shoulder and upper arm, partly through having woken up one of the mornings having wedged it firmly underneath myself as I'd rolled towards the downhill side.

So, home. Own bed. = Bliss. It might be raining - so drying of the mountains of washing will be a chore, and it's stuffed our beach-going plans. (The weather forecast doesn't look good for the rest of this week either.) I'm faced with a neverending list of cleaning chores that should have been dealt with before I left, plus we have many plans to set in action for 2008. But we did have a good week away. The weather was just perfect, and I have many photos to go through so I can blog about our two fantastic canyoning days with the kids!

And I can sleep in my own bed!

Labels: holidays

The kids are back at school today. If asked to write about their holidays, their pieces would probably be titled along the lines of "My boring school holidays.'

I confess that either side of our 100 mile ride, their two weeks off were a bit of a non-event. I'm feeling a bit guilty about it (as only I can) but this time round I just couldn't find the energy to make their stay-at-home holiday particularly eventful or entertaining. Mind you, I don't think there is anything wrong with kids learning to entertain themselves. In our house, being bored is not allowed. And neither is inviting friends over if your rooms aren't tidy... so noone got to invite any friends over. Unfortunately this meant a bit too much sitting inside with either internet, TV, or (in Zoe's case) a book. I did let Alison and Zoe take themselves to the beach a few times.. time to let the apron strings out a little... though it did mean I worried the whole time they were gone.
I didn't get round to taking them to the movies, or iceskating, or anything 'fun'. But I suppose they will survive.

The first week I was a bit sidetracked with getting things in order for our ride (I'm not sure what the excuse for the second week was - getting over it?) I did a couple of very short rides on my bike when I shuttled cars back and forth to the mechanics, (and haircut appointments!) I also had a massage one day and a chiropractor appointment another. Needless to say all those 'me' things ate into each day, leaving no time for entertainment. (Besides which they could have gone shopping the day I went to the chiro and they chose not to!)

For these holidays Cait agreed to cover for someone's morning paper run while they were away. This involved six early mornings each week - 4 days there were only about a dozen houses to deliver to, but Saturdays and Wednesdays involved delivering to every house over a route of a couple of blocks - all supposed to be done by 7.30 am. Despite the fact that paper rounds don't pay much, I didn't think it was a bad thing for her to learn some responsibility, and to actually earn some money for herself. Plus I relished the opportunity to see her get herself up at 6.30 each morning! Ha! School day get-ups will be like a sleep-in from now on!

So much for great ideas - she promptly got sick on that first Monday, and Alison took over for pretty much the rest of the week. Theoretically this could have gone off without a hitch (lessons in responsibility still apply) except for the part where she enlisted a friend's help on 'the every house' Wednesday delivery, then lost the map (which had the house numbers for the specific deliveries on the other days)... It all ended ok - the friend had accidentally taken it home BUT neglected to let her know; meantime Ali had spent more than half an hour walking the streets looking for it, and another half an hour listening to us ranting and raving about Responsibility. The Consequences meant not being ready to go to the movies in time with the above friend - I hope that friend learnt a lesson as well.

So Cait had come down with some lurgy - sore throat, cough... which ended up with a visit to the doctors and a course of antibiotics. She used that as an excuse to do the Sloth Thing for many days, and while she wasn't sleeping in she assumed a position either sprawled on the lounge, or slouched in front of the computer, sporting headphones, and watching episode after episode of Jonathan Creek. For some reason this irritated me a fair bit - probably something to do with having to yell to get her attention. I get pretty cranky when any of them sit there for hours... even though I do it myself. Nothing like a hypocrite for a mother...

Happy days. But hey.. we were going camping on the weekend! It was something for them to look forward to?! Surely!

I spent the Friday on the computer finalising certificates in anticipation of everyone finishing the ride, plus thank you certificates for the support drivers. And doing up maps (which some appreciated at least - I tried not to be too put off by those who didn't worry about where they were going. I suppose the idea was that we kept together, but even so, I know that I like to know where I'm headed!) Why did I leave doing all that till the day before? Who knows.

Our very short Brooms Head camping experience could probably warrant a post of its own (if I ever get round to it... maybe I'll get a few photos up some time, though it was basically characterised by a northeasterly wind buffetting the campsite on the Saturday afternoon - and getting up at sunrise, packed and on the road before 7 am!) The older two girls made friends with other girls their age who were riding in the support vehicles, so it wasn't all bad. Plus it doesn't hurt them to be helping out their parents for a change. (Thinking many netball carnivals here!) Life isn't all about them.

After that, still nothing much happened the second week of the holidays. Caitlin was back on the paper run, but Alison took up the coughing baton (and is still running with it a bit..) The weather was rather morose (with moods in synch) but at least from my point of view there was a let up in the requests to go to the beach.

Marc went away for work for two nights, but I impressed myself by getting up insanely early on another morning and driving into town for a 6 am/25km community bike ride. I probably won't manage that one during term time, seeing I am a SAHM who doesn't work because she wants flexible hours so she can be home to get her children off to school!

They all got a bit lucky towards the end of the week and got invited to friends' places - although Alison had to endure accompanying me shopping around for a new washing machine on Thursday, and Caitlin got to come with me on Friday to get the car air conditioning overflow pipe fixed. (It was dumping water on my foot whenever we went round corners! Bearable for me, but not ok for the carpet. ) At least she also got to go shopping for some clothes.. and I actually didn't mind the one on one time with her.

They had their last paper round on Saturday morning (though they have agreed to take week about on another one with a friend), and so Marc and I were back on our tandem for our 7o-something kilometre return trip for the community ride.

Cait and Marc had Touch training on Sunday morning, which meant the whole family couldn't go on a 46km BUG ride that sounded good. [We now need to be training for the Gong Ride which is now only in 3 weeks time! Did I mention we are doing it again this year with the kids? Guess what we need to be doing a lot of over the next few weekends?] He suggested Alison and I ride a tandem together (even though I intend to ride with Caitlin ) and so we did - Alison bribed with the fact that there was another girl her age going to be there- on the back of our old tandem, in fact - and me bribed by the fact that she'd probably pedal harder to keep up with the other girl!
I don't think she had a bad time; and I enjoyed the ride anyway.

When you write it all out, it probably doesn't seem that bad after all, and it probably wasn't.

Except that if you made it to the end of this post without falling asleep, you are probably as much in need of a 'life' as I am!

The End.

Labels: bike riding, holidays, kids

The kids reckoned the (curried) scrambled eggs and bacon last night was yum, but were also tickled by the concept of having breakfast for dinner.

"So what are we having for breakfast tomorrow? Stir-fry?"

Haha.

It is kind of tempting to stretch things just a bit more and have cereal for dinner tonight. I get into a rebellious mood when the Daddy is away- a mood which mainly manifests itself in putting off the cleaning even more so than I normally do, and opting for slacko meals. No, don't pin it on the patriarchy. I just figure that when he earns all the dosh for the household, the least I can do is provide a square meal most nights. Because, by reason of a fair division of labour, meals are my job. However, when he deserts us has to work away I feel like closing the kitchen and going on strike. Mostly my meal rebellion is easy heat-up-in-the-oven food but I'm becoming interested in expanding my horizons!

Earlier Caitlin talked me into buying sausages for curried sausages (one of their favourites), with the promise that she'd skin them, but she's not exactly jumping up to do so. There's a whole new blog post topic on 'where I've gone wrong in getting my children involved in sharing domestic chores', which is currently brewing (as it does most holidays) and which I shall leave for another day. Perhaps tomorrow, given the way it is playing loudly on my mind.

We had the Long Overdue dentist appointments this morning, and while noone had cavities (phew) , guess who had the worst plaque (and thereby was the Worst at cleaning.) If you have been reading my whingeings for long enough, you should have picked the eldest. The 14 YEAR OLD. Yes. That's right. Even this new dentist agreed that she couldn't have braces (as has been recommended) with the way she cleans her teeth at the moment. So, $130 to tell me what I already knew in terms of them not being up to scratch with their cleaning, and more appointments to come back to the hygienist for preventive fissure sealing of new molars. (And a lecture and lesson in better teeth cleaning for the teenager. I wonder what I have to do to get him to give her a right royal kick up the backside as well.)

While my children continued to sloth in the house this afternoon, I swanned off for a massage. And, given how tight my muscles are, I've decided to go back more often to see if it will make a difference. It's only money, huh.

Meanwhile a weird sound was emanating from under the bonnet of the Commodore, and upon investigating, even I was able to see that part of the fan belt was almost slipped off a wheel. I will have to call the NRMA (automotive association) in the morning to see if they can slip it back on, and then I will have to book it in to be fixed. Why did it have to do this as soon as my Resident Mechanic slipped out of the country for a week? (Just lucky we have a spare car hanging around at the moment.)

Well, amazingly enough the Eldest has been shamed into skinning sausages, so I guess I will have to forgo the muesli for tonight! Shame that. I was finding the concept of Slacko Mummy kind of .... appealing.

Labels: daily, holidays, kids

Which, like the fat-free claims, leaves you with 3% pure and unadulterated guilt. I'm talking the guilt of a mother who feels like she and her children should be doing something more something in this second (of two) week of the school holidays.

This week, however, is not shaping up to be very interesting at all.
The 97% of reason tells me that:

• They had a full-on week last week - what with the netball for the older two, and the days of entertainment and outings and playing with cousins at Grandma's. (Zoe was so tired and emotional yesterday that after a few tears about cleaning up, she took heed of my advice to 'go and have a sleep', crept up into my bed, and had about an hour's snooze!)
  
• We have appointments to catch up on - appointments for them which were impossible during the manic-ness of last term. Caitlin had her jab this morning. I'm going into the chiropractor this afternoon. Then they are getting haircuts at 5.00. And tomorrow is the dentist. And yes, then I have a massage. But then, if I'm not 'better', then I'm no use to anybody.
  
• They may not be outside (oh how I always feel guilty when they aren't being active outside) but it is unpleasantly windy, and cool enough that surely some of their winter holidays can be whiled away with some indoor pursuits. Ali and Zoe have been doing some beading. Yes, Caitlin is watching TV that she has recorded but I did a deal with her at the doctors this morning. If she wasn't melodramatic and sooky about the needle, today I wouldn't nag her off the computer or TV.

So - what the hell. We just watched Torchwood (Episode 4) from last night. And I'm about to leave them watching the final in this series of Life on Mars which I have already seen. (Bring on Series 2 - I want a resolution!!) We might even just watch more tv or dvds tonight. Dinner? - with no Dad, we might just have something less 'balanced' and do something easy like scrambled eggs and bacon!

Miraculously this morning I could walk on my foot. Go figure. So bizarre. Unlike my poor husband who has had a few airport transits to make today - two extra than normal with a Sydney-Adelaide-Singapore-KL trip this time. And you don't realise just how much walking is involved in airports until you are incapacitated in some way. (Fortunately for him it is a temporary thing.)

Off to the chiropractor for me... surely with that, and a massage, I'll be back to myself and I can concentrate on that 3%.

Labels: daily, holidays, kids

Back home. Back to washing. Back to kids slothing. Back to kids making mess.

And my back is sore, which doesn't make for a happy-go-lucky Tracey in the second week of the school hols.

I do look forward to holidays, and getting a break from the usual madness of the school/after-school routines. But car travel, and not being in your own bed, has the potential to throw me right out of whack - literally - and right now I am pondering the "cost" of these school holidays to my physical (and therefore mental) wellbeing!! (I am better off riding a tandem 500km, and sleeping on a camping inflatable mat!)

I guess my Back just does not like it when I stop doing any of my usual exercise for a few days. I've had a pretty good few months with it, but what I've done (and not done) in the past week and a half is a really bad way to treat an 'Iffy' Back. Great idea to sit in a car for hours (drinking coke and eating chips or chocolate - that's good for the weight loss, did you know?), and then go and sleep in 'other' beds that just don't help. NOT. Meh, it is not excruciatingly bad, but it's a nagging ache; I am thusly not feeling very much like doing anything, and I am fully aware of the 'vicious circle' syndrome coming in to play: Not doing any exercise because my back hurts. Back hurts because I'm not doing any exercise. Repeat.

My chiropractor visit last Thursday didn't seem to help much. (Hah! And so then I went and slept in a crappy bed for another 2 nights! - The spare bed at my MIL's isn't the best - the bed slopes to the outside, and so I had to resort to sleeping with a pillow wedged under me on that side!) So I am going to try a massage on Wednesday in the hope that that might get me back on track. Right now, even though it might do me some good, the thought of getting on a bike makes me cringe - and Wednesday seems like a long while away.

But we did see dolphins!

And Zoe, despite denying having missed me, spent most of the one hour each way ferry trips sooking up for cuddles.




And we spent some time with Nana - Marc doing some odd jobs for her around her townhouse as well as the ferry trip.

Labels: holidays

All too short. *le sigh* Back in the car this arvo - picking up Marc from work about 3.00 - and we're heading 2/3 of the way back to Sydney (about 4 hours this time) to his Mum's at Tea Gardens. We are being reunited with the sprogs tomorrow - my Mum is driving them the two hours up from Sydney.

We could have driven down tomorrow ourselves, but we figured it would be nice to spend some time with Marc's mum - plus this way we can go out for dinner with her, and then sleep in a bit!

Weather permitting on Sunday we might catch the ferry across Port Stephens to Nelson Bay. While I am in dire need of doing something much more active (my back has been niggling all week - a direct result of lack of exercise, 'other' beds, and too much standing around) we are limited by how far Nana can walk, and the idea is to spend the time with Nana. But! We might see dolphins!

We will drive back late on Sunday. Which has just reminded me that I need to make up the kids' beds so they can fall into them when we arrive home after dinner.

And then, huzzah! A week of school hols with kids. They don't know it yet but I have a couple of wonderful treats in store for them. A trip to the dentist!! Woo hoo! And, for Cait, an immunisation that she should have received at school 2 years ago, but THE SCHOOL FAILED IN THEIR DUTY TO LOCATE HER EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS IN THE LIBRARY WHERE SHE WAS MEANT TO BE INSTEAD OF DOING CHRISTIAN STUDIES AS PER MY AUTHORISATION, AND CAN'T YOU TELL I'M NOT DIRTY ABOUT IT AT ALL... HMMMPH. [And if I'd known when it was happening the following year she could have got in line with the Year 7s, but 2 years on, the health department won't do catch ups at the school clinics....]

And now it seems Marc will have to go to KL on Tuesday for a week, and of course I am not happy - it feels like the 'never, ever GST' - although of course it is unfair to draw a direct analogy, because the 'no more overseas work' deal is actually a bit more complex than that, what with colleagues being affected by it, and.. well... yeah...

So, what must be must be, at least until this specific project is finished. (All bets are off after this project is over, however... Says me. With so much bargaining power.....)

A week is .. ok. I can deal with a week.

He will be back in time to take me to another gyno day surgery (to make sure all is ok) thingy - on the 19th. How romantic.

If nothing else, it is just reinforcement for my continuing to be the SAHM, because the logistics (re the kids) otherwise would be quite difficult when you don't actually know from one week to the other whether he'll be around.

Pffft. I can feel a few sleep-ins coming on.

~~~~

PS. I haven't ridden a bike in 2 weeks... and we haven't even test ridden the new tandem. Which is still in the house. Not good.

Labels: daily, holidays, kids

I'm calling it practice for retirement. (The fact that I need to get a job first before I can officially retire is neither here nor there). These few days of the first week of school holidays have been practice for 'empty nest' time, and I confess I am enjoying it.

It doesn't happen much that we are minus many of our kids at one time. The grandparental backup on both sides is several hundred kilometres away. Paternal side is not really able to look after children anymore, for health reasons. Maternal side grandparents have had them stay occasionally, but is unwilling to have them while we go off for more than a night or two on anything that resembles enjoyment. (So now you know why we drag the kids off on 9 day bike rides!!) The kids have stayed a week when we have had to do something "important" to do in regard to moving house - but let's just say we are unlikely to get an offer to have the kids while we swan off on some overseas holiday.

So, we enjoy what we can when we can. This past weekend, the netball rep rules had the girls travelling on the team bus to the competition - so last Friday we had the luxury of travelling 6 hours down the highway with ONE CHILD in the back of the car. Oh the bliss! No fights. No whingeing. And she enjoyed it as much as we did. "How are you enjoying being an only child, Zoe?" "GREAT!" she said.

We stopped off to visit Nana on the way down - a quick detour and lunch with her in a cafe. We decided after that to make another detour - this time into Newcastle to see the stranded bulk carrier, the Pasha Bulker that had grounded on one of Newcastle's main surf beaches in the wild storms a few weeks ago. Nana had heard that it was now hard to see - with an exclusion zone of a few blocks, and supposedly parking being impossible. Never ones to believe the panic, we decided it was worth a go. We snagged a car space 3 cars back from the exclusion zone, and it was an easy walk up the headland to a poor vantage point, and then, on the advice of another spectator, only another few hundred metres back down to the ocean baths, where you got a good view of this enormous ship "parked" in the breakers.

Zoe later told Grandma that it was a "long walk" - which Grandma was inclined to believe (because she thinks we expect too much much of our kids.) I pointed out to Zoe that it was less distance than the 2.5km cross country course that she runs (without stopping or walking) in about 15 minutes. So perhaps she should have run it!!!

They successfully refloated it the other night, so it was a worthwhile side-jaunt.

The next morning we headed off down to the netball, with NO KIDS! Grandma was happy to have Zoe to spoil for a few days. (The alternative for Zoe was having to watch 3 days of netball, which wouldn't have been ok for her in Grandma's book. Fine with me! We got a couple of nights there in the holiday house where we could come in, crash on the lounge with beer and chips, and not have to worry about anyone else but us. More significantly, we only had to get ourselves up and ready in the morning. Bliss!)

Grandma does get torn between wanting to see her grandchildren and not letting us go off and have a good time without them. With Marc having to be back at work, she was ok about keeping all three for a few more days. I opted to return home with him, and the deal was struck that they would drive the kids up to Nana's on Saturday. (Good excuse there not being room in the car for me, huh!)

So, we have a house to ourselves.! For three days!! The novelty of not having to nag kids to bed will never, ever, wear off, let me tell you. And although Marc is working, and has a late touch game tonight, I don't mind having all those hours to myself. The TV to myself. Ahhh... bliss! I am heading into town for a chiro appointment now - and we are going to meet up for lunch.

Don't get me wrong. I love my kids!! But, gee it's nice to have a break!!

Labels: holidays, kids

I think I can keep up with "everyone" on a single bike, but the sad reality is that I'm a slow coach - relatively speaking I guess, because I am trying to ride in a particular level at the Community Ride (because I know that with the next level down I am more than fast enough on a mountain bike!)

So now you know why we ride a tandem... HE doesn't have to keep waiting for me, 'cos I'm right there behind him, and I can't fall behind. (And as for when I captain the bike with the daughter? I am starting to wonder what percentage of effort I am actually worth! Why does the term "weakest link" keep popping up in my head?)

We took the 'half bikes' in for our favourite 6.30 am ride again today - partly for a change, partly because of his hamstring. [How frustrating is it that he still rides THAT much faster than me, even with a dodgy hammy!]

Hills! Inclines! My weakspot. Nothing major in the 30 km route we take, but start going up and my pace just doesn't seem to cut it; I'm sort of keeping up with the pack as we start going up, then I fall off the pace at the crest, and everybody zooms off, leaving me to play catch up.. which is harder going than riding with the pack, so you get more tired, and it's a vicious cycle. (no pun intended.)

As an excuse (rather than a whine) my legs were already sore after doing my weights class yesterday (catch up from missing it on Wednesday). So they weren't exactly impressed with me this morning. Probably accounted for a small percentage of the slowness. That on top of having done absolutely zilch exercise between then and last Saturday's community ride... well, not my best fitness week that's for sure - and so the body is certainly letting me know about it.

And this morning was CHILLY. (For here anyway... I'll rate 7 degrees C as cool weather for cycling (45F) even though I know serious cyclists in colder climes cycle in far worse!) Also cool weather sitting in an outdoor cafe when it has barely scratched 9 degrees! That was a bit of a shame because today (thanks to the long weekend) we didn't have to race home for netball and, dammit, it was too cold to kick back and have a second cup of coffee!

So, I am currently doing battle in my head over wanting to work at it so I can keep up the pace versus wondering just how much of it is 'recreation' when I feel like crying each time I fall behind on the hills. Best approach I guess is not to get too het up about it, and just keep chipping away at the daily exercise. My fitness has improved this year, and it can only get better... and hell... I'm not doing too bad. For an almost 45 year old me.

So, yep, this is a long weekend, with NO NETBALL!!!, and so I have pencilled in a BIG luxurious sleep in tomorrow. And maybe even on Monday as well. All in honour of the Queen's Birthday (which isn't.) Who cares, I'll enjoy a 'day off' (even if theoretically every day is a day off for me.) Maybe spend some more time on a bike of some description. And maybe some time on a domestic project of note.

Labels: bike riding, daily, endorphins, holidays

Labels: daily, holidays, parenting, teenagers

School holidays. Two weeks of them. Done and dusted. It's a bit scary how fast the year is going. I mean, Term 2 already?!! Before we know it it'll be the end of June, half way through the year, and into another 2 weeks of holidays. It's just not right!

Today was a pupil free day "staff development day". This varies from school to school. My kids are back tomorrow, then Wednesday is a public holiday for Anzac Day, and then, huzzah!, they are back at school for Thursday and Friday. At least that means we get to ease back into the madness a little more slowly, with no netball stuff on Wednesday - and a day 'off' for Marc. Which I like, of course.

I had had grand plans to make the most of Sunday and today - as if to make up for my lack of domestic achievements during the past two weeks. So much for all the grandiose plans to get the kids involved in a mega-cleanup while they had holidays (and we weren't gallavanting around the countryside on some holiday adventure or other.)

Instead Caitlin all but reinvented the term 'sloth' :

How? You sleep in as long as possible - if you get past midday, you're a legend. You drag yourself up, then plonk in front of the TV or computer the rest of the day. If you're really good you can stay in your PJs till dinner time. It's called pushing the envelope far enough that your mother just couldn't be bothered harassing you about it. Much. ie. if you keep ignoring her, she gives up in the end, because there are things worth arguing about, and things that aren't worth arguing about. Even if she is kind of bothered by it.

Alison seemed to work all holidays on my mother-guilt gene, expressing daily disappointment that every day she wasn't going somewhere or hanging with a friend. I was working on the concept of self-determination (ie. organise your own things), and the fact that kids shouldn't need to be taken out and entertained constantly. She didn't have a bad holiday. Really.

Zoe was obviously working on her magic skills - I saw her practising card tricks a few times. And the rest - she was working on invisible' - by disappearing upstairs for hours at a time so that I would easily forget she was around. She has always had the amazing ability to entertain herself with toys. She has a hideyhole under the upstairs stairs (an open type of stairway), and she can sit there playing with stuff for hours. When she wasn't doing that she'd be reading a book. And, thusly, tugging at that mother-guilt gene because she wasn't outside being active.

And me? I've practised my procrastination tendencies to perfection. School holidays where you stay at home are the perfect training ground. If there was a Procrastination Olympics, I'd be in it.

Take yesterday - Sunday - for example. Oh how I was looking forward to that day. Nowhere we had to be. A glorious sleep in after our efforts on Saturday.

Marc was a man on a mission. He had a lot of bike tyres to change - chunky ones he'd put on the tandem and triplet for the last day of the Big Ride (because it involved a bit of dirt), and so, because we are likely to do more bitumen riding, he wanted to put the smoother tyres back on. He then swapped my really chunky tyres on my mountain bike for a set of the relatively less chunky ones from the tandems. (Everything is relative!) He said it was pretty 'tiring' - a pun that would work better in print if we spelt tyres the north american way.

But! At least that was a job that would stay done. (He didn't get to the car tyre changing jobs he has as well - I guess he has another tiring weekend ahead.) I tend to get a bit envious of many of the tasks he sets himself to do, because they will stay done longer than, for instance, cleaning. Or ironing.

So I fiffed and faffed most of the day, finding reasons to talk a lot to him about our bike riding/holiday plans for the rest of the year (and next year), thinking of related stuff to look up online, and only managing to do a bit of a clean up of the 'clean' laundry that had been adorning our room. Like- putting sheets and towels away in the linen press. What a novel concept, hey. Only problem is, everytime I scrunched more sheets into the linen press I would groan to myself about how badly it needs a clean out.. but a clean out of the linen press? I couldn't face it. It seems like too big a task to tackle 'right now' (and the problem is I always use that excuse.) Besides, it would involve decisions. Decisions on what to throw out (and where to 'throw' it to). I threw it in the Too Hard Basket. Again.

So a big BZZZT to the 'spring cleaning' resolution. And, the exercise? Well, the moral to the story there is to Seize the Day Harvie.. Tracey. Or rather.. Seize the Morning when the Weather is Fine, Tracey. Because if you leave it till the afternoon to do your exercise bit for the day, and then you get a storm roll in at around 3.30, then, BZZZT, you've missed your self-promised endorphin hit and daily exercise dosage for the day. (And then today you compound that by stuffing around so much that before you know it it's nearly 4pm and you have to drive kids to town for netball, and call into the shops for something for dinner, then, strangely enough - given the shorter and shorter daylight hours thing that happens in Autumn - you run out of light. (So, bugger it, have a glass of wine, with crackers and dip instead...)

Just as well, then, that it's back to business tomorrow. No slothing, guilt-inducing kids hanging around. And, theoretically, plenty of hours in my day to exercise AND clean. Bring it on.

Labels: daily, holidays, introspection, Resolution

"But you've been resting since we got home." said he. *Clonk* [That's the sound of me hitting him]... Because I didn't mow the lawn yesterday perhaps?.... Or paint the house... or run a marathon.. ? The clothes got themselves to the washing machine, hung themselves out, and the dinners have just happened. (Oh that's right, he bbq'ed the meat, so there was nothing else to do!!)

Ok, so I've been endeavouring to take it easy. Easier. Helps, as I said, with a Dishwasher Unloading fairy. The visit went off ok, and the other Sister in Law (the one coming just for lunch) managed not to say anything that left me (or Marc) grinding our teeth like she usually does. And I feel sort of better, but sort of blah still. The most annoying thing is that my ears are sort of blocked, but popping... And different to each other. All in all I'd rather not have to speak because of the hollow echoey sound my voice makes in my head. Which leaves a toss up over which is preferable - giving instructions, or just bloody doing it myself.

Pretty stupid for someone supposed to be "resting".. but for lunch, for something a bit more interesting than the BBQ sausages we did for the kids, I decided to try out a recipe out of a bunch of food magazine recipe pages that I'd torn out and kept. (From a picnic lunch section I think.)

It worked, and I highly recommend it:

Asian-style chicken salad rolls

Serves 6

1 bbq or roast chicken (I bought a bbq chook with no stuffing.)
3 green onions/shallots (thinly sliced) (The long green ones, not the ones with the bulb.)
1 carrot, cut into small thin strips (I grated long thin strips with this grater I have)
1/2 cup salted cashews, roughly chopped
bread rolls, to serve

Dressing:
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp sesame oil
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp rice vinegar or white wine vinegar
1 tsp caster sugar
1 garlic clove, crushed

1. Bone and skin chicken, shred meat. Place into bowl.
2. Make dressing: Combine all ingredients in a jub. Whisk with fork till well combined.
3. Pour dressing over chicken. Season with salt and pepper. Toss well to combine. Place into airtight container. Place onions, carrot and nuts into separate airtight containers.
4. When ready to serve, add onions, carrot and nuts to chicken. Toss. Spoon into bread rolls or serve as a salad.

It was pretty easy, really. Served it up with those par baked dinner rolls (baked of course), the sausages, and a tossed garden salad, and it was pretty good.

And then I let them all go off to the beach, while I lazed off the 2 or 3 white wines I'd drunk over lunch (probably shouldn't have been drinking with antibiotics, but they didn't warn me not to!)

And I've all very restfully made up skinned and crumbed chicken drumsticks for dinner... and chucked on some brown rice to cook.

Someone else can make the salad. I'm done.

Labels: eating, holidays, sick

After telling all and sundry that at least I wasn't coughing while I was asleep, I woke up coughing yesterday morning. Typical. Marc did his frustrated "You should go back to the Doctor" admonishment (which tends to mask his presumable genuine concern).. so, being just bloody slightly frustrated myself, I rang. No appointments available. I felt like saying "Just as well I'm not dying isn't it."

So I decided to be a complete sloth yesterday, in an "I'm just so effing depressed" kind of way. I didn't move much from the computer, and even left the dinner decision making and shopping to Marc. (Even then I had to supply a list and inspiration.) Then this morning I was able to score a Saturday morning surgery appointment by ringing bang on 8.30am. This morning I felt ok while I was still lying down, but the thrush hadn't gone, and as soon as I got up to go to the bathroom I could feel that feeling in my chest again. I'm just so sick of it.

So I now have a different kind of antiobiotic (supposedly good for the chest region), and more Canesten... And the advice to "rest". Which is fine in theory, but hard to do, despite the fact that Aunty N. (Marc's younger sister) is staying, and amusing the children, and doing wonderful stuff like emptying the dishwasher for me!

Tomorrow we have the older sister-in-law (plus husband plus 3 kids) calling in (Classification: Duty). It is hard not to get stressed about the state of the house because she is a fastidious, obsessive compulsive housekeeper/person - and previous visits usually are the catalyst for a mad clean up, cleaning of windows, etc. This time I really couldn't give a flying you know what, because I am rather over her (for many reasons). And I am supposed to Rest. I figure SO WHAT if she finds our house appalling - maybe she won't want to visit anymore!

But the post-holiday detritus really did need clearing... (and the yard needs mowing - already again).. so we are in the 'Marc getting shitty' zone over what should have been thrown out or put away previously (when I wasn't unwell).. which is making for a hard day to play Lady Muck.

After a second trip to the local shops today (to buy stuff for tomorrow's lunch), I am sitting. Here. Because, frankly, when I'm not moving around, I don't feel as breathless and I cough less. (Unless I laugh.. so don't make me laugh, ok.) Aunty N has taken the girls to the beach, and I'm undecided whether to wander down for a saltwater treatment myself. Today has been sunny and warm.. a first for us (and here) since the day we tried to go canyoning. It seems a shame not to make the most of it. I'm sure I could Rest while doing so.

Labels: daily, holidays, sick

By Saturday lethargy was setting in.. thanks to this persistent cough, I wasn't feeling much like going anywhere.. and the book I bought and wrapped myself for christmas (yes, I succumbed to the depths this year) was getting exciting. Breakfast.. read.. coffee.. read... Marc getting twitchy... let's go for a walk... read... lunch... nearly finished...finished!

Ok.. now we can go for a walk. C'mon girls... up and at 'em... Do we have to? (Oh.. and here we were thinking you guys kind of liked the bushwalks)... Well, if you don't want to go you can bloody go round to Nana's... OK. Ok. They did. And, we dumped them and set off.. just as another storm announced its presence with a thundery rumble.

Mr Optimist said we should still give it a go.. it was just over the other side of the railway line at Blackheath.. not actually in National Park.. but there was this walk which went down Porters Pass (overlooking the Megalong Valley).. along under the cliff line, and back up again.

Seemed like we were pushing our luck setting out on foot while a storm loomed.. but we kept going, and it provided a brooding atmosphere to our descent. Then, as if we'd descended into fantasy land, the sun came out, and stayed out as we ambled along under the cliffline. As the tracknotes predicted the eastern end of the pass was popular with rockclimbers.. (in fact many of the cliff faces were studded with bolts - something I'm not sure sits well with me, except that I guess this wasn't national park ) and we were entertained by a few as we rounded the bend and started heading up again through a very canyonesque Centennial Glen.

As we reached the top (me wheezing and coughing as if I was running on 3 cylinders - which was probably literally the case).. the clouds rolled in again. Although it is a bit blurry, I like the photo of me (below) on Fort Rock, with the 'weather' in the background. I'm not usually that clagged out after a 2 hour walk (which is down as 3 hours in the guides) - but there is just a hint of drama queen in my genes.

It was a bit of a hike through the streets back to the car, but I was happy that we'd managed to fit in a bushwalk, especially as we'd missed the canyoning. The kids would have enjoyed it.. though I have to say it was less stressful doing it without having to worry about where they were putting their feet. We don't get much time to 'go out' together, and this is more our style than dinner and movies, weird little people that we are.

Labels: Christmas, holidays

This was an accidental photo when I was sort of attempting to take an mpeg on Marc's camera!... hmmm.

Anyway, lucky for Marc's insistence that we continue, because by the time we got to the parking spot for the tunnel, it was dry.. And it was an easy stroll to the entrance of the tunnel.

The last time we did it we didn't have a torch! - but fumbled our way through with our hands on the wall. Marc produced a 2 x AAA torchlight out of his first aid kit, and that proved to be more than sufficient to illuminate our way as we shuffled through the tunnel.. With the light off, several times, we were treated to the magical sight of glowworms twinkling. Like stars indeed, as glow worms tend to be.

A dry drive back.. and the hail had all but melted. There were still a few patches; proof that we hadn't dreamt it all.

And the glow worm tunnel, as we predicted, was worth a visit. The kids enjoyed it. Pretty cool.

Labels: Christmas, holidays

THIS is where we were headed.. Bells Creek Canyon. One Marc and I have done before (once at night! - because of the glowworms! - that was the best Valentines day ever, that!), and we felt that it was doable by the girls. No abseiling required, just some climb downs (and Marc bought some new hand line). Wetsuits and lilos, and most importantly Dunlop volleys were the other prerequisites. (Another volleys link.) No way would we take the girls canyoning without a pair of volleys. Because of my ineptitude in pre-buying one more lilo before we left Coffs - and you want the rubberised cotton ones which are harder to come by these days, what with the luxury camping demand for the velour coated variety- we spent the day before trailing up and down the shops in Katoomba looking for one, and ended up having to hire one from an adventure tour company.

Marc had been keeping a close eye on the BOM (Bureau of Meteorology) website, and the predictions were looking good for Thursday.

We left Zoe with Nana and Aunty the night before, and were up and at 'em in the morning.. borrowing said Aunty's car (as the route involves a car shuffle.) I was still coughing.. but had been dosing up with antibiotics, cough medicine, and sinus/hayfever tabs. I wasn't going to miss this if it killed me. And the weather was P-E-R-F-E-C-T.

Off we went. We had to drive into Mt Wilson to leave one car, then retrace our steps to our starting point. While this canyon is one of the ones probably closest to a main road, the last times we had done it there was still no track to it, so a bit of navigation and bush-bashing was always required. (In hindsight I wish this was still the case.) Marc thought he'd be clever and see if a fire trail on the map was one we used to meet up with.. but we ended up on the wrong ridge, and so had to backtrack up (I knew it was up because going up brought on the coughing.)

We sidled around to follow the right ridge, and came across a narrow track that had obviously been created by the various adventure tour companies that now take a lot of groups on canyons in the Blue Mountains area. Oh well, easier walking we thought, so we were making pretty good time. Up and down a couple of knolls.. then suddenly Alison trips over, and then we hear the wail as she holds her right hand in her left hand. Initial reaction (as typical parents) was the rolled eyes, an impatient 'let me see', ready to dust her off and keep going. Marc took one look, gasped, and immediately used his shirt to stop the bleeding. She had a gash in the 'webbing' between her pinkie and ring finger, and it continued down maybe 2 cm onto the pad of her palm. She had landed with her hand on a sapling that had been macheted off roughly at ground level, leaving, basically, a sharp stake.

We took another look, and exchanged a look of despair. We couldn't tell how deep it was, but it wasn't the sort of injury you could take canyoning.. in the water, or scrambling down rocks and handlines. We weren't going any further on this canyon. We found a pad in the first aid kit, and bandaged her hand up, and turned back to the car. And cursed the fools that had to hack these tracks in.. Seriously, if we'd been bush bashing, I don't think it would have happened.

Another car shuffle back into Mt Wilson that we wouldn't have had to do.. then back to Blackheath (dump Caitlin) then onto Accident & Emergency at Katoomba Hospital.

By the time she was seen, the gash/slice/cut (whatever you want to call it) didn't look quite as bad.. The Dr did um and ah over what to do... particularly between the fingers. Not deep enough for stitches.. in the end he used glue for the bit on the palm of her hand, and gave her the instructions she'd been dreading - don't get it wet for a week. When you're an 11 yr old water baby, and it's summer, and there's a pool near your Nana's holiday house, and a beach back home, that's not what you want to hear. I had to talk to her about perspective - I mean.. what if she'd broken a leg or something? And as it's turned out, the weather gods have smiled upon her, and treated us all to cool and/or rainy weather even up till today when she could be swimming again! Now we just have to stop her catching balls and the like for another week.

And the canyoning? I guess it'll keep. Next year maybe? Another Blue Mountains Christmas, perhaps? Or at least get down there in January.

Labels: Christmas, holidays

Let's see if I can summarise the week in a few posts with a few piccies. Ok, so it's for my benefit, rather than being of any great interest to the blogosphere.. but I suppose it's an insight into one particular Australian christmas. We weren't particularly excited to be going away, if you hadn't guessed from my previous entries, but had resolved to make the most of our time in the Blue Mountains. Potentially cooler weather (well, it could hit 30 degrees, but it could drop to around 10!).. and the chance to get in some bushwalking, and, most importantly a canyon. This was to be Alison's first ever canyon, and we were preparing to do one with her and Caitlin that involved liloing through narrow gorges...

We got away around 9.15 on the Saturday morning.. not a bad effort for us, especially considering Marc just got back from OS and then a work xmas lunch the afternoon before, and I was stressed out with packing and coughing. Glad we were heading south, against the flow of holiday traffic. Any towns on the Pacific Hwy not yet bypassed (and with lights) caused bottlenecks.. We shook our heads in sympathy at a couple of jams of a few kilometres. It seemed that so many Sydneyites had left early (it must have been like 4 or 5 am) to 'beat the traffic' that they all ended up leaving together and causing the jams.

The traffic heading our way was heavy, but moving, so we made good time - and even somehow timed our lunch stop in a lull. The newish M7 motorway on the western outskirts of Sydney made the last stretch through to the lower Blue Mountains a dream. I complain bitterly about having to register for a visitor's e-pass, but in terms of driving time saved, it is probably worth every cent. So all in all the drive was fairly painless. Arrived at our friends' place around 5.00 and the kids had time for a swim in their dam before dinner. It was good to catch up with them - these days it happens all too infrequently, living so far away from each other.

With only about half an hour to drive the next day, we took our time in the morning, and mosied on up to Blackheath. Found the holiday house.. dumped our stuff.. then dumped the kids with Nana, aunty and friend, and headed back to Katoomba for the supermarket stock up. We even managed to miss the christmas eve rush despite predictions, so, all in all, that was painless too.



Santa found the holiday house, despite the lack of a christmas tree; the wrapping paper and glitzy gold and silver gift bags/sacks had to do for festive spirit. A very civilised sleep in possible because of the age of the kids.. the two younger ones woke at 7.00, and waited till 7.30 to wake Her Highness up. She protested till I suggested that she was obviously moving from kid to grown up status, and thus Santa would probably not come to her next year!


Round to Nana's holiday house for lunch.. and that was the view from our table; the vase had a bunch of Christmas bush in lieu of a tree. (Yes a very low-key christmas this year..but I'm tempted to continue that tradition in the future, actually...) We managed to keep lunch sensible with just some chicken and ham, a couple of salads. The family christmas challenge this year was to recreate Papa's famous mayonnaise for the potato salad - the absent sister knew how to make it, but the rest of us were novices. A bit of a team effort, Marc doing the beating, and me drizzling the oil in, and success! And a toast to Papa's mayonnaise.

Oh, and Zoe got a (painted) recorder for xmas (what was I thinking?!) With some sisterly tuition, by lunchtime on xmas day she could already play three tunes (and can still only play three tunes!) Naturally they were sent outside to play, so the neighbours must have been cursing the holiday house tenants.

Labels: Christmas, holidays