Touring in Margaret River

We're in Margaret River for a few days and the weather is apparently 'unseasonal'. In other words, blowing a gale and raining frequently. Knowing it's unseasonal isn't actually much consolation but we're here wth some friends and there's plenty to do so we're not complaining.


We're staying at a beautiful resort smack
on the beach and in 'seasonal' weather it
would apparently look like this. (I took it from the brochure.)










But it looks like this. ( I took this after breakfast.)

So we've done a few tours. The first was a winery tour which was good, but the stand out was arriving at Knotting Hill as another group were leaving, only to hear this woman screaming like a banshee "LOUIE!!! GET OUTTA THERE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! COME ON!!" Someone's in trouble, we muttered to ourselves expecting some recalcitrant kid to emerge. But no, out slinks a grown man in a zip up tracksuit, sunglasses and a beanie - head bowed in submission. All afternoon we thought of poor Louie.

The next day we'd booked a Heritage & Cave Canoe trip on the Margaret River. We drove the hour to the meeting point and arrived just as it began to pour with rain. Paul, our guide, said to get back in our cars (phew) and drive down to the river mouth where we'd meet everyone else. As we all arrived, my friend Penny pointed... 'Isn't that Louie??' And indeed it was!

Thankfully it had stopped raining and as we launched the canoes, Paul gave us the drill, despite admitting he'd only been guiding these tours for a couple of weeks. So what did we learn? Well, pretty much everything about Paul. Including, but not limited to:

• His wife loves roses and orchids and always has fresh flowers in the house
• He loves gardening and is also fond of flowers
• His daughters are 12 (going on 26) and 9 (going on attitude - boom, boom)
• His oldest daughter loves horse riding and is, in fact, 'a bit of a jill-a-roo for those of you who know what that means'
• He's a huge fan of his Thermo-Mix
• His wife is a school teacher
• How much he got paid working FIFO (Fly In Fly Out) on a mining rail road (over $100k) but he missed his family too much so threw it in - it just wasn't worth it
• How much he weighs, the fact he's about 11kg over what he'd like to be for his favoured past time - mountain bike riding
• How he snapped a mountain bike but the manufacturer (Giant) replaced the frame - from America no less
• That he'd like to be riding '1000k' a month but just isn't getting the time

Getting the drift?? If you'd like to know more about Paul, do drop me a line.

So what did we learn about Heritage? Not much. There was a family who built a house on the banks of Margaret River and moved in.... in eighteen seventy - ..... Paul was struggling to remember what year. Trying to helpful, I said '1874? Seriously Paul, none of us know - just pick a year.' 'No, no, no,' he insisted 'I need to get this right. 1876!' Phew - what a relief.

We walked up from the river to explore the cave where those of our party who were feeling brave could crawl on their stomachs, combat style, through water and dirt in a claustrophobic passageway that led from the main chamber.... back to the main chamber. Paul explained that there has been a shipwreck in the 1800s and a group of 30 or 40 people lived in this cave for 6 months to 7 years. (Yes, I didn't understand that either - maybe some left after 6 months and maybe some left after 7 years??). Penny had the audacity to ask a question; what nationality were they? Paul didn't know, but he was quite sure they were Caucasian - not European. And believe it or not people, for once in my life I did not pipe up to correct him. I was quite proud of myself. And anyway, he was doing a fine job all on his own.

Yes, I could put this review on Trip Advisor but I do feel that would spoil the surprise for the next lot of unsuspecting guests!!

We're headed to Perth tomorrow for a few days before we catch the Indian Pacific train across the Nullabor to Adelaide so stay tuned.

Farewell My Van

My van was picked up by its new owners yesterday. No more sliding doors for me! You may recall I have posted about it before. I've never loved it but it certainly served its purpose.

We got it 5 years ago when Jaz had scoliosis surgery and we weren't allowed to pick her up for fear that the rods in her back could dislodge. She had to be hoisted in a sling and stay in her wheelchair until they were sure it had fully healed. So it was farewell to the Pajero - which I was very fond of - and hello to the van. I always thought if I had to drive a van, this was definitely the pick of them. Fortunately, Mercedes was a client of the agency I worked for at the time and helped me out by finding an ex-demo that I could actually afford.

We also then had a hydraulic lift fitted. None of this is a secret - I did tell the new owners who thought the bracket to hold the lift's remote control was a bottle opener! We had the lift taken out less than a year later when Jazzy died.

It was then handy for George's wheelchair too, as it was easy enough to fling in the back behind the third row of seats where there was still plenty of room and a surprisingly low floor.

But I do have some great memories:

• The Cubs loved it when I was with Scouts. 'What happens in the van, stays in the van,' they'd say (ie eating lollies I'd bought them at the petrol station.)

• I had a whole routine for Sass and her friends:
   'Welcome aboard flight Mother Who Works, destination school. Please ensure your seat belt is firmly fastened, your seat upright, table stowed and all hand luggage secured. In the unlikely event of an incident, please follow the instructions of the flight crew. Should we lose cabin pressure, a mask will drop from the compartment above. Place it over your nose and mouth and breath normally.... blah, blah, blah. Estimated time of the flight, approximately five minutes. Thank you for choosing to fly with Mother Who Works."
  The kids thought it was hilarious - even when it was repeated again and again and again. 

• I loved that 'Don't make me come back there!' was never an idle threat
• I've driven Elle and her friends to parties and collected an entire van full of them in the middle of the night
• We've been camping with a trailer hitched on the back and the canoe and tables on the roof
• Around the neighbourhood, everyone knew the van and when we were out and about
• It's trucked teams of advertising peeps around town (many who think they're rock stars requiring a van!!) and served as the mobile office on many an occasion

But with just the two girls now, we don't need it and I'm not sad to say goodbye. I think it could almost drive from our house to The Royal Children's Hospital on auto-pilot. And the family who bought it are just lovely, so I'm glad it's gone to a happy home. 

My new (second hand) car is a black 4WD with a black interior and seats a mere five. Not even any flip out seats. Just five. And it feels so zippy!! But I can't change the radio station or work the heater and I keep setting off the windscreen wipers. I've even managed to immobilise it when we were late for a meeting...ahhhhh!!!

So it's so long to my van and hello to a whole new, annoying learning curve....

It's Official

I hope you can read this - it's gold. And I had to share. Click on it and you should be able to see it on a black background - much clearer.

If it's a bit tricky, here's a highlight:
"One woman had to be rushed to the hospital after her assistant shredded important company tax documents instead of copying them."

I think I worked with that assistant once.

A friend who runs a busy cafe assures me common sense isn't that common. When told to just empty the water bottles from the tables down the drain, she found her new, university-educated waiter on the floor in the kitchen tipping them down the drain alright - the one in the floor in the corner. 'I meant the drain in the sink...' she suggested.

I worked on a fashion account briefly and in one meeting a model was asked to step out and just take off what she had on underneath the big, furryjacket she was wearng (a shirt of some description as I recall). She came back, naked but for the jacket. Eeek!! And was rushed from the board room a second time to put her pants back on.

Seriously kids, like the ads on TV say, if you not sure, ask!

A Moment Amongst The Chaos

I remember Mum telling me that when my brothers and I were little, an older relative said to make the most of having small children because it'll be over before you know it. Mum said that at the time she thought 'Really?' as it seemed to be going on forever.

I know what she means. When you're knee deep in small kids it's hard to see the end of the week let alone any of them eventually being able to wipe their own bottoms. It does feel like it'll go on forever. But it doesn't.

We caught up with some neighbours for a drink last Sunday afternoon. "Bring whoever is at your place" I texted. "Sadly, just us" came the reply. They have four kids, their youngest one of George's friends, so almost 20. In years gone by, we've seen a variety of them and their current boyfriends and girlfriends at various drinks, street parties and get togethers. But last Sunday, it was just the two of them.

One Christmas I was telling a work colleague that I was in the throws of organising a sit-down lunch for 24 relatives for the big day. 'Lucky you', she almost chastised me. 'This year there's just four of us so we've booked in to a restaurant'. I understood what she meant but at the time, her plans sounded highly appealing!

So do you think like many things in life, that we look back with nostalgia? A kind of romantic view of the past? It's easy to do when you no longer have the smell of dirty nappies scorching your nostrils and you've had more than 4 hours of unbroken sleep.

Just after Sass was born we decided to go to Opera In The Park. We couldn't get a car park within a coo-ee so had to hatch a plan of military ingenuity to get everyone and everything to the venue in one go. We had George, Elle, Sass in her capsule, Jaz in her stroller with the Saturday paper on her lap so the four boxes of fish and chips weren't too hot, a basket with a picnic blanket, jumpers for when it cooled down, cups, serviettes and miscellaneous snacks, an esky with wine, bottle opener, soft drink, and water and two camping chairs for Geoff and me. I remember saying to Geoff as we staggered over the road towards the park, 'Can you imagine, in twenty years time it'll be you, me, the paper and a bottle of red.' He had perspective of the moment 'Yes, and how boring.'

It's Beginning To Look A Bit Like Christmas

Check the date people - that's right - August 28th. AUGUST!!!

So I was at Coles this afternoon and look what I spied?? An entire stack of Christmas Mince Pies.

I had some Christmas cards years ago that said 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...' on the front and inside, '.... and it has been in the department stores since September'

Well, this is proof - it's not just our imagination - it is coming around faster every year.

The Solution to Nagging Teens

Elle has been nagging me since forever about having her ears pieced and I confess the age of permission has been rather rubbery.

My own parents were quite insistent I not have mine done until I was 21. But I was at boarding school and at 15 my 'friends', armed with a compass, a small carton of frozen orange juice and can of Spray Fresh antiperspirant (both for numbing purposes, although the Spray Fresh may have been handy to stop me sweating) and a large eraser to stop said compass piercing my skull,  pierced my left ear.
That didn't hurt at all! I declared. Do it again - I'll have two - same ear please.
I can only think the first was beginner's luck. The second was excruciating. The back and forth rotating combined with increasing pressure to get the compass through the skin on the back of my ear seemed to go on for a week. But finally it was done and I was very happy with myself.

Someone had lent me some surgical steel studs which did the trick for the first few weeks, but it wasn't long before the lure of cheap plastic pearls from Coles Variety Store was too much and in they went. Within days my ear was dripping pus. Hmmm - delicious! Not. Back to the surgical steel.

Needless to say I was in more than a spot of bother when Mum turned up unexpectedly and I'd had no time to remove the earrings. And yes, she did notice. I said I'd take them out and she stood there and waited for me to do exactly that.

It was more than 20 years later, when I won some gorgeous earrings in the local school raffle that I lined up again for a piercing. This time at the chemist with a gun and the regular one in each ear.

So when Eleanor kept going on and on and on - I suddenly wondered what the issue was. I let her dye her hair whatever colour she likes (it's currently one shade off being completely black), she uses public transport, she has her own debit card and makes her own bed - what's the big deal about the ears?? Beats a nipple.

I have finally discovered the way to stop a teenager nagging. Say yes!

She had them done on Monday.

The Mothers Who Work Party

Not sure who to vote for? No... me either. Pretty slim pickin's I reckon. So much so that I'm thinking of starting my own party. I've mapped out a couple of critical policies and am keen for input but here's what I'm thinking so far.

1. National Lice Week.
I am so utterly sick to death of lice that I'm going to introduce a week when all kids across the nation must be treated at least twice in that one week. Yes, there'll be companies and businesses who will not be happy with my plan to eradicate the little blighters, but seriously peeps, I have had enough!!!

2. Dog Poo Non-Picker-Upperers
The next person who leaves dog poo on my nature strip will have their nose rubbed in it.
I'll add your nature strip too if you vote for me.

3. Road Rage
Anyone being rude and brutish on the roads will be dragged before a panel of angry mothers and given a proper telling off. That'll fix them.

4. Pick Up After Yourself
It will be law that everyone needs to pick after themselves as they go along in life. Not wait until after school, the weekend, the holidays to put that cereal bowl in the dishwasher - you will do it, now!

5. Lower The Driving Age to 14
A friend of mine suggested this one years ago. So fed up was she with ferrying kids to sport and social events she pledged her vote to any political party that would reduce the age to get a licence to 15. I'm going even harder - 14. Sue Cummings, this one's for you!

6. Help Out
When I ask you to tidy the bathroom, leaving half the crap on the bench and saying it's your sister's doesn't cut it. I don't pull your clothes out of the washing machine before turning it on. Just do the job. In fact, I shouldn't even have to ask, but we'll overlook that for this election. Penalty for non compliance will be the confiscation of a mobile phone to an off-location site for one week. There is no flexibility in this law. One week.

7. Stop Whinging
7. a/ For evey kid who whinges that they're bored, in spite of 29 electronic gadets at their finger tips, a room full of toys, games, puzzles and books, a basketball ring in the backyard and a shed full of bikes, scooters and other sporting equipment - you will immediately be awarded an hour's gardening duty. Two if you complain.
7. b/ If you open the fridge or pantry, stare at the contents and proclaim that there's nothing to eat, you'll be on dinner duty for a week. Add supermarket shopping if you complain.

Yes there are big issues to consider in the upcoming election - asylum seekers, climate change, unemployment, the economy - but I'm getting straight to the nitty gritty of what's really going to make a difference in the lives of we working mothers.

Please do feel free to put forward your policy contributions and to join the party!