And then they jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates

 

 

So THIS is it. (Insert spirit fingers here).

The Cruiser and The Roadster Voyager 2000 2012.

My mode of transportation and my living arrangements for the last few weeks and approximately the next TWO YEARS.

Noice, right? I know.

Shall I give you the tour then?

Please, follow me…

There is front and rear entry ^*giggle* that open onto two rooms with a convenient, and stylish, concertina door separating the bedroom from the living/dining/kitchen/study/play room/entry hall.

There is no toilet to clean.

The children have the luxury bunk beds, while Laithe and I hang off the end enjoy the “queen” sized bed right next to the bunks. There are THREE! squeeze-in robes with plenty of shelf and hanging space, and the bed lifts in two sections for further storage of stuff you’ll somehow manage to go without for the next six months because you don’t want to have to lift the frigin’ bed again to get them out. That bastard is heavy, but there is no toilet to clean.

Coming off the bedroom(s) is the spacious, open plan living/dining/study/play room/entry hall area that overlooks the kitchen to maximise entertaining potential. The kitchen boasts a range of overhead storage facilities that inflict just the right amount of concussion if you happen to forget yourself and turn around too quickly, and there is no toilet to clean.

There are a range of appliances included, such as, an awesome stick blender, slow-cooker, toaster, and fat-arsed kettle. The potato peeler is the sharpest I’ve ever encountered. The sink has the cutest little plug hole for shit to get stuck in the water to escape, and the fridge will hold 4, maybe 5 at a push, bottles of Giesen or one whole meal for a family of four (depending on where your priorities lie). The microwave, when in use, makes an interesting noise that makes you want to slowly back away and cover your nuts.

I’ve been encouraging Laithe to stand as close as possible while he does ALL the microwaving.

Directly opposite the microwave is the fire extinguisher.

There is a roll-out awning that managed to make us look like a couple of twats every the first time we try to put it up.

So that’s it.

Home, slowly suffocating sweet home.

Did I mention there is no toilet to clean?

 

What have I learnt so far?

 

• This caravanning thing? Not as painful as I may have anticipated. So far.

 

• The best thing about living in a caravan is that it takes about 3.4 seconds to clean the entire house.

 

• The worst thing about living in a caravan is that it takes about 1.8 seconds for the family to mess up the entire house.

 

• The oven (and Laithe) make good scones.

 

• Its completely acceptable to sweep the couch. Yeh, you heard me.

 

• I miss vacuuming . It’s an illness, I know.

 

• The only thing harder than making bunk beds properly, is making bunk beds properly in a goddamn caravan. There is no room for hospital corners up in this baby.

 

• Sand is NOBODIES friend! It makes you think it’s all soothing between your toes and then, no matter HOW HARD YOU TRY, it makes its way between your sheets and pisses you off ALL NIGHT!                                                                                                                                                               Not all that unlike my husband, I guess…

We’re definitely not in Cairns anymore, Toto.

        
                     Old place on Castlereagh Rd (NSW) that looks like it fell from the sky

We got to spend about 6 weeks in Sydney before we started our big adventure.

There was family to stay with, friends to catch up with, cousins to play with, work to be done, weeds to be pulled, weddings to attend, birthdays to celebrate, weeds to be pulled, new farms to visit, wine to be drunk, weeds to be pulled, & possible future properties to explore.


Laithe We did some good, old-fashioned, hard labour at my in-laws place in return for food & shelter (hence the “weeding”). The children provided them with complimentary, daily 5.30am 9am wake-up calls, followed by post-breakfast obstacle course runs both in and out of the house. Obstacles included toys, pencils, scooters, trucks, bodies, tricycles etc.

There’s nothing like an unexpected early morning skateboard ride to get your blood pumping. 

When did all THAT happen?!

Holy crap! I haven’t written since APRIL?!
Well let me fill you in.

The last 6 months….                                                                       

1. I resigned from my job. Check.

2. We finished our house off FOR SALE. Check.
It only took us 6 years to finish!

3. Closed our business. Check.
That was months ago, and yet the paperwork drags on and on.

4. Had an early birthday party for a certain 5 YEAR OLD! Check.
Complete with a fabulously FABULOUS cake made by ME.

5. Had a nights accommodation, “meals” and antibiotics included, courtesy of QLD Health due to Pooey’s cellulitic face. Check.

6. Had 2 open homes & sold our house 4 days later! Check.
Thank GOD! Preparing a house for show when two small children inhabit it SUCKS!

7. Spent far too long mooching off enjoying the company of some very patient & generous friends in their beautiful home. Check.

8. Packed up the entire contents of our house/shed/industrial unit & squeezed it into a 40ft shipping container. Check.
I’m not much of a hoarder but MAN WE HAD SOME SHIT!

9. Threw away & donated SO much stuff we won’t be needing. Check. Mostly donated here, to a beautiful bloke named Barry.

10. Enjoyed far too much alcohol. Check.
What?! I’m unemployed now; what am I sposed to do?

11. Swapped the same shitty, snotty cold between the 4 of us for about 3 months straight. Check.
It was all “Fifty Shades of Green” at our place.

12. Cleaned the absolute SHIT out of the house for settlement date. Check.
Oh how I love the smell of bleach in the morning… and the evening…. or, pretty much all day.

13. Lost our poor dog to a tick. Check.
Miss G and The Sparky were all kinds of devastated.

14. FINALLY said goodbye to our Far Northern friends/family, packed the kids in the car and headed south. Check.

If only I’d managed to have a baby, contract some untreatable disease, and divorce The Sparky. I could have rounded out my list of “major life events” quite nicely, don’t you think?

Alas, my little list tells nothing of the melodrama drama of the last 6 months. The tears, mostly Miss G’s. The tantrums, mostly mine. The arguments. The physical exhaustion, mental fatigue, nervous poos. The nasty “too knackered to cook” food (which didn’t help with the nervous poos). The constant questioning- “Are we doing the right thing?”, “What if we end up killing each other living in that caravan?”, “Should I pack this?”, “What the feck are we keeping THAT for?!”, “Is this going to be good for the kids?”

But now the wheels are in motion, both figuratively & literally, and those voices in my head have quietened somewhat. This time next week I’ll be on the other side of the country; hopefully with a sigh of relief and a bloody great, big smile on my face.

Cos ya gotta have Frieeeeends

You know those friends you have that you just couldn't live without?
The ones that are always there for you no matter what?
They get you through your day without a fuss?
And you just don't know how you'd get through all the mundane shite without them?

This post is about someone very special to me.

Sunday Bloody Sunday.

The Sparky went away camping & fishing this weekend for his mates birthday, which is good considering the weather has been awesome for fish. He goes away every now & then, usually in the dry season but not exclusively. Its not all that fair, given that his weekends can be anywhere from 2-4 days long, but our general rule is that he's free to get out of town during the Dry Season when the Cape is more accessible, & I'm free to go to the pub during Wet Season when the humidity sucks balls.
I'm good with this.
My hair is not.

Picture this

I'm trying to do my first ever link up with Eden's Fresh Horses Brigade today (no more lurking in the shadows). I'm not liking my chances. At least I've picked the easiest Fresh Horses EVER.

Maybe if I can pull this off I'll end up with some motivation & confidence to continue with my pathetic, "early days", pretend Blog.

If you have any advise for me, PLEASE, feel free to share...

Anywho. Unfortunately no parmesan penises around here, but these are my most recent favorite pics from around these parts & beyond. Surprisingly, none of them involve my dishwasher, reconstituted shat-out sultanas, or the loads of washing & crap strewn around my house.

So not much of an accurate pictorial of my life really.

Keepin' it real.



Ta-daaaaaaaa!!!!

They're creepy & they're kooky...

The Spotty Room

Gallery of Modern Art- Brisbane

  

Too much fun



Done & dusted...

I WANT AN OOMPA-LOOMPA, DADDY!
I WANT AN OOMPA- LOOMPA NOW!!!!

Favourite spot to play @ In The Rain



We don't call him "Pooey" for nothing.

So this Christmas we had our first taste of what it might be like to travel with our kids...

Surprisingly, a lot less painful than expected.

They mostly did this...

 

We managed the 1700 odd kilometers from Cairns to Brisbane with a 4yo and a 16 month old in TWO DAYS! This was no mean feat considering The Sparky has a thimble-sized bladder and wees more often than the kids. I, on the other hand, am a Nurse. Give me 8 cups of tea and a corrugated road and I still wouldn't need to stop for 12 hours.

We had a top time in Brissy with The Sparkys side of the family. Considering there were 6 "adults" and 4 kids staying in the SIL's smallish house there were barely any arguments (that weren't our own) and the only ones that came to blows were the toddlers.

No alcohol fuelled arguments.
No unscheduled trips to the emergency department.
No festive food poisoning. Thank God. (There was only one toilet).
There were, however, a few Roads and Traffic induced anxiety attacks on my part. Driving in Brisbane city (and beyond) is currently shithouse!

Anyway, we left the SILs place and headed north again for a family trip to Fraser Island.
'Twas grand. Though I'm not sure who's bright idea it was to take a 16 month old to the world's largest "sand island". I'll let you know in a few weeks after he's shat me out a string of pearls.

We collected our permits and information booklets and headed for the ferry. We stopped to help past the 3 or 4 cars that were already bogged not 10 meters off the bitumen.

So we're on the island 5 minutes and Miss G pipes up with-
"When we get back to Australia can we go and see the Twelve Apostles?"
This was followed by at least 400 questions over the following 2 hours, all starting with "Da-aaad?"

The Sparky's finger imprints can still be seen on the steering wheel.

Our 8 days were filled with fishing and swimming and sand and sun cream and sand and lakes and rock pools and sand and four wheel driving and air mattresses and sand ON air mattresses and gin and tonics and shitty nappies (with sand in them).

For example:

Sand for miles (most of this ended up in our car)

So bored....
 

Catch of the day

A photo that I'm  ACTUALLY  in!

Rusting Beauty

Lunch!

Just a puppy 

They're pretty hardcore on the Dingo warnings at Fraser, though for me, they didn't need to be. I was already freaking out about them trying to drag my little suckling pig off into the bushes. Our first night there, Dingo put his front paws up on the side of the tent to rest them on the port-a-cot for a good sniff. Because of this, and the fact that you shouldn't leave "food" out for them, we had to seal up all the dirty nappies in a bucket for disposal at the Dump.
How does that saying go again?... 'Off like a bucket of shit in the sun'???

On day 8 we said farewell to the Island mid morning and headed back down the beach to the ferry. Nobody was looking forward to the drive home, least of all Pooey. He was cranky and wriggly and obviously thought we were complete assholes for making him sit in that chair.... AGAIN. Never the less, we made excellent time again on day one managing to get all the way to Rocky by 9pm.
Shower. Bed. SLEEP-IN!

Day two was much the same, only with a little less patience.
Everyone was bitterly disappointed, none more so than me, when we got stuck in the wrong lane on the highway through Townsville and completely missed Hungry Jacks! Son of a BITCH!
It's just about dinner time. Everyone is over it. The squirming and short, shrill shrieks are coming more regularly from Pooey and the next fast food joint is 98kms away!

Fuck.

So we're almost at Ingham. Settling, begrudgingly, for the Golden Arches. The shrieking peaks. Then Miss G says "I can smell poo"...

Oh God! I can SEE poo.

My dilemma
- Do I take the drink bottle Pooey is waving around off him because it has poo on it?
or
- Do I leave it with him, to wave away, because it's keeping his hands occupied?

I do the latter for as long as I can. McDonald's is in sight. I remove the drink bottle. His hand plunges into the seat in frustration and pulls out a plum... Sultana.

PLEASE DON'T EAT THAT!!!

The sultana ummm..., ? thankfully ?, gets flung across the car.
We pull in and are out of the car before it's come to a complete stop. The collateral damage is not that bad but there is only so much you can do with baby wipes.
So Pooey gets his first shower in a car park (from the water tank on the back of the Hilux).
I thank God I decided to by antibacterial soap for once.
Spewing I didn't get a photo.
Our dinner is shite. As expected.
Both kids eventually sleep.
And the rest of our drive home is uneventful, aside from some super sketchy driving that we witnessed.

So all in all, a good trip had. I'm relieved to be home in one piece.
The half tonne of sand has been removed from inside the car. All the holiday crap has been SLOWLY put away. And sultanas will remain OFF the shopping list for a few weeks at least.