Row your boat

I rowed at school and college in boats where we all had one oar and someone to steer (the cox).

When Elle had a shot at rowing in Year 10, the mothers were invited to have a go. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it.

That was a few years ago - so in the interim, I've been lucky enough to join an existing crew and got back to paddling! But wasn't I surprised when I was handed two oars!! That's a 'quad four'.

But never mind all that.

The point is, we're a little bit competitive so decided to row in the World Masters in New Zealand. In fact, in just a couple of weeks time.

Once registered, we discovered there was no event for a coxed quad four so were forced to tackle the one-oared 'sweep'. It's slower and a lot harder to balance - but after 5 months of blood, sweat and giggles, we've achieved adequacy. So much so, we actually won a medal yesterday!

Yes - I am holding a gin & tonic - they just 'go' with rowing!

We did commit to spending as much time in wine bars as we did on the water - but the water is winning. We'll do our best to rectify that in New Zealand.

We've spent a good amount of time planning our team outfits, including this stunning gold luxe bomber jacket. That should intimidate the competition! Hopefully it won't be our only gold.

I'll let you know how we go!

Mutiny

Remember how I love an authentic item?  (BTW, I got the chunk of million-year old Himalayan salt and Japanese grater (below) for Christmas!! I suspect it's the same salt that comes in the natty 'Salt AND Pepper' than members of this family are so fond of for its apparent 'convenience' that comes in a disposable grinder from Aldi... but that's not the point. That just doesn't look as lovely adorning the table - does it?

Anyway, the olive wood cutlery has become the current bone of contention. Geoff is down-right refusing to keep hand washing it. The word 'ridiculous' has been tossed around - a lot.

Almost a year to the day, I was at work, minding my own business, doing my thing, trying to earn a crust and I got this very narky text from Eleanor:

So Geoff is just putting it straight into the dishwasher.

Occasionally, I fish it out, wash it, dry it and pop it away  - but that's not sustainable.

And as Geoff does do a lot of cleaning up of the kitchen, nor am I prepared to forgo that for the sake of some forks.

I'm thinking I may have to concede defeat. It seems to be surviving - so far.

Clubs

I love a club! Not the sporty kind (although I am a member of one of those) the kind that has lovely services and amenities or gets you into the 'members' area.

I think it's an age thing. Just a year or two ago, I don't think I belonged to any clubs. Now, I'm a member of the RACV Club (Royal Automotive Club of Victoria - not a typo, Club membership is diffent to being a member of the RACV), the MCC (Melbourne Cricket Club), the VRC (Victorian Racing Club) and the Qantas Club.

For those who may not be local, the first is about accessing lovely club resorts and country clubs about the place at excellent prices. So far we've sampled Healesville, Inverloch and the City Club and are heading down to Torquay next week. Even for a couple of nights, the serene atmosphere, friendly service and bit of luxury is very restorative. I highly recommend it! (I don't get paid for this endorsement in cash or contra - sadly!!)

The MCC is to rock up to the footy and be in the Members area  - I have zero interest in cricket (and patchy interest in footy, truth be known) but have waited almost 20 years for my nomination to come up. It's apparently the longest membership wait in the world. Geoff was so indignant with it all, that when his arrived, he refused to take it up. I did point out the MCC couldn't care less and his silent protest would go unnoted. In fairness, membership isn't cheap and he also didn't think he'd use it - fair enough. I haven't used mine so far ...

The VCR is simply to access the members areas at the races. And who doesn't love the races? You may recall my blog about it in November last year.

Finally, the Qantas Club. Here's a shot from Wednesday afternoon this week on my way back from Sydney. Nothing like a DIY toasted ham sandwich and a glass of bubbles after running a four and a half hour workshop! Purely medicinal of course!

And lastly, the Hawthorn Rowing Club... but more about that in my next post.

So - do you belong to any clubs?

What's in a number?

On a boarding pass, not much as it so happens.

Flying to Sydney the other week, I had row 63 - yes - 63!! How could that be? I'll tell you how with three more numbers - 747. Seriously, by the time you've wended your way down the aisle you feel like you should already be at your domestic destination.

A week later, it was off to Canberra and my mobile check-in gave me row 18. Up the front, I assumed - until I had to approach the aircraft by walking across the tarmac and noticed it had propellers. I didn't think they still used planes like that on intercity routes.... apparently they do and row 18, BTW, is way up the back.

I was sharing all this mystery with a colleague in Canberra who said he always nominates a seat at the very back as on his last 10 trips, he's had a spare seat next to him 8 times - which he rightly points out is better than being in business class.

I'm also surprised by how many people know the type/model of plane they're getting on before they arrive!! I have no idea even when I see it. If I want to check, I have to look at the Safety Card where it says what it is across the top. My classification is usually big, small or medium.

Anyway, off t Sydney this arvo - row 29 - so I'll know when I get on where that is!

From this.....

... to this.

PS Apologies I've been AWOL - I promise to lift my game!!!

Parenthood

I heard a confronting interview on the radio recently; a speaker who is paid to evangelise at large commercial organisations, that parenthood isn't what it's cracked up to be.

Yes. Really.

As someone who's given birth to four precious pups, this was an insult to the very thing that I feel defines me. Yes, I work and do other stuff, but in my heart, I am a mother. What do you mean it's not the not fulfilling thing you can do in life?

I assumed it was some kind of crazy corporate propaganda to keep the troops focused on the work and discourage them from the distraction of procreation (the outcome, not the act!).

To check I didn't dream this, here's a link to an article from The Guardian that pretty much puts forward the same argument.

In essence, the guy I heard on the radio didn't deny the elation and sheer joy at the moment of birth, but pretty much paints a picture of it all being downhill from there.

Your fantasy of parenthood never materialises as you discover your offspring has sleeping issues or feeding issues, developmental issues, learning or social issues - or all of them! They become teenagers and worry the hell out of you, not to mention their misalignment with your hygiene standards. On and on it goes. In addition, there's the drain on your emotions, energy, time and finances that prevents you from travelling the world in the lap of luxury, staying at exquisite hotels, eating at divine restaurants and drinking fabulous wines whilst wearing drop-dead gorgeous attire. I'm starting to think these people have a point.

My beautiful babes.

It's often been rumoured that parenthood is a conspiracy. That those with kids persistently encourage their peers to have a baby because heck, let's face it, why on earth should they be free and easy while you're knee-deep in small kids??

What is has highlighted for me is, that although I love being a mother, there is a very viable alternative - and it's a pretty darn good one!

Farewell my faithful friend!

Do you remember my treadmill? The appliance I once never imagined I could live without? It's gone!

Yep.

Sold it on GumTree and it left yesterday.

I started running (if you can call what I do to get my self around in active wear 'running') on the streets before work about a year ago, listening to RN news and thinking through the day ahead - it's become my routine. I reckon I've used the treadmill less than half a dozen times in the last twelve months.

Where it was going to go when we finally renovate was also an issue - problem solved!

I'd had a couple of inquiries but finally from someone serious. He asked if I'd drop the price by a fair whack and I agreed.

He and his friend arrived about 10am. Geoff had removed the study door to make it easier to get out and lo and behold - it still didn't fit!! We spent the next hour YouTubing "How to dismantle a treadmill", undoing bolts and unplugging wires. At one stage, I thought they were about to thank me for my time and leave - but no, there we were, complete strangers, sweating, jammed into the overcrowded study and working as a well-oiled team to get this sucker out!!

It may have been a tad quicker had Geoff not simultaneously been attending to a cherry picker and a tradie in the backyard who was fixing one of the blinds on the shed (another story...)

Anyway, an hour later we'd done it! We managed to get it out in two parts -  also very tricky! - and into their van. Phew!

Here's a glimpse of what space looks like!! Maybe my dream of minimalism can come true!

Welcome Back - NOT

We headed off to my parent's place in South Australia for Christmas. It's about a 7 hour drive with the car loaded up with surfboards and luggage packs just to fit everything in! (I've decided it's impossible to pack light for a summer holiday in southern Australia - you're just as likely to get sweltering, baking heat as you are freezing cold rain.)

I was driving as we approached the town, about an hour and a half from our final destination, where I was born and spent my primary school years. Nestled in a valley with a river at the base, it's a pretty town with a population of less than 2000 and known as the birthplace of the famous Australian cattle dog, the Kelpie.

As we swept in down the curving highway, I was chatting to Geoff and kids about something - probably reminiscing about growing up in a small country town- when I rounded a corner and was suddenly confronted with  a red traffic light, with roadworks further on. That was a surprise! I checked my rear vision mirror and noted the car behind me was also travelling at about 100km/h and equally loaded up. I hit the brakes and slowed fast but for the sake of safety, rolled on through the red light before coming to a complete stop. Hmmm. Now what.

Because I'd overshot the light, I had no way of knowing if and when it would change. Up ahead, I could see a guy with a STOP/SLOW sign so I edged forward.

BLAAAAAHHHH!! The horn of the roadworks truck next to the traffic light blared, so I stopped and saw an extremely angry young traffic manager in the rear vision mirror, leap from the cabin and storm up towards my window. I lowered it.

That was a red light you went through, she snarled at me
I know, I agreed. It took me by surprise as I came down the hill and around the corner. I wasn't expecting that while I was going at about 100.
Did you NOT see the road sign a kilometre back that said slow to 80, then the next one that said 40 and the second one after that that also said 40? There was a faint whiff of sarcasm that caught me off guard, which is probably why my answer was rather blunt.
Nup.
Clearly annoyed by my response that invited no further discussion, she was forced to tell me off like a kid.
Well pay more attention next time! And stomped back to her truck.
Okay.....

I guess the light changed because she gave me another blast of the horn to send me on my way.

I didn't even get a chance to tell her it was my home town 😒