Rugrats

We've been uber busy, and now I'm sick. I blame Jo, who bought the sickness home, where its been festering in ever corner just waiting for me to inhale. He's been out of it the last 4 days, but I'm hoping i don't get it as bad, because my immune system is generally better than his, which is awful. The thing is, how are you supposed to avoid getting sick when you work in an office? It's the worst kind of breeding ground for germs. They LIVE in the air conditioning.



Maybe i should become one of those weirdo's that wear face masks everywhere.



So we've been in kiddie-land the last couple of weekends, doing the rounds, seeing the peeps, that sort of thing. I haven't seen Max and Joshua in a little while, and their cute-ness has increased by at least 20 points since i saw them last. A word on my cousin Susie - she went ahead and married an Aussie, and in a big Italian family, that can be a rarity. When it DOES happen, the union will usually produce an Aussie-looking child, which results in said child becoming a total novelty. That's what happened with Max. I mean look at him - does this kid look like he has an Italian mother at all? Sometimes she looks over and thinks "Who the hell is that Aussie kid in my kitchen?" It's hilarious.







Then his little brother came along and evened things up a bit. Joshua has the darker feature we're used to, which meant he was frankly boring for a really long time, despite Susie's attempts to up his profile. I mean we just weren't interested. Bring us fair-haired novelty child please.



But as he got older, i realised she had a point. Joshua was pretty cute. Look at this face.

We took Jack to see the dinosaur exhibition at the Australian museum, which he was sort of wary of, i think. Dinosaur toys are altogether different from life-size models. When you're a kid, you're thinking - this shit could come alive anytime. Get me the hell out of here.

He's been very entertaining lately. I don't even know how he comes up with some of the stuff he does. For example, this exchange:

Me: "Where's your mum?"
Jack "She's dead."

Oooooooo-k. I won't even try to dissect that one. Or this:

Grandma: "We have to change your nappy."

Jack: "No."
Grandma: "Yes, we have to change your nappy now."
Jack: "Don't you say that again or I'm calling the police." "Hello, police? Nonna is being very naughty and you have to come and get her."

Or you'll hear a crash from another room and his voice drifting down the hall - "I did nothing!!!" Yeah kid. Way to prove your innocence.

Luckily he does, at the tender age of 2 and a half, have his basic tactics sorted out. After we left their place the other day, Maria spotted ALL of his toys tipped out on the floor and asked him who had made this big mess. Caught like a deer in headlights, he reasonably did what any other person would in a situation like that, and that is blame someone else. "Jo did," he promptly responded. Nice one!

Lastly, his current favourite word is "fantastic." As in, "this pasta is fantastic." But he will also use it in the negative. About his juice the other day, he told Maria witheringly "This juice is NOT fantastic." Solid gold.

The pest

I have been doing lots of reading and movie-watching, but i don't have anything intelligent to say about any of it at the moment, because my brain is in ibuprofen-induced coma, so i'm going to go and curl up on the couch and make Jo wait on me for the rest of the day, or week. Who's counting.

From bandana to beanie (and the 80th birthday party that rocked)

My aunt turned 80 last week. Quite an achievement, considering she's a chronic smoker with a bad attitude. And isn't that what we love about her? She encourages me to eat with my mouth open. She teaches me not to feel ashamed about showing strangers the scar from a gallstone operation i had 5 years ago. But most importantly, she inspires me to insult those around me on a daily basis, and use bad language when i do it.




Here's the old duck in fine form after 80 weary years on this planet.






Jokes aside - this lady doesn't love much, but she loves me. Some of my earliest memories are formed around her, and she's made life very entertaining. And, she's got pluck - you can't take that away from her. When i was 3 or 4, I climbed a ladder in the backyard and sat up on the roof of a two storey house for i don't know how long - she was the only one with the balls to come up and get me. There's been more than one bully to cop a mouthful from her. She doesn't take shit (but she's perfected the art of giving it.)




And so, in honor of her 80th year, we went all out and celebrated in style - at the local RSL. What can i say, she loves the buffet. My Dad, on the other hand, does not. He doesn't trust any food he hasn't cooked either himself, or by a fellow Italian. I think he had three plates of hot chips. What a battler.

My old man

Sam, Dad, John and Sophie

Sophie, mum and Mary

There were several pigs amongst us. I won't name names. I do, however, reserve the right to publish any photos taken by me, whether the subject of said photo is stuffing their face or not.

And here's the old gal blowing out her candles. Can't wait to take a bite of that.






Yep. We really rocked it out. (Note the stamp on my hand. Are RSL clubs trying to be trendy now by stamping you to come in and out? This is not a Kings Cross nightclub people.)








But enough of the birthday celebrations. I know what you've really been waiting for. Some months ago, i introduced you to my cousin Stephen and his questionable choices in the fashion arena. Saturday saw him sporting a beanie - the ultimate cold-weather accessory. Now I'm not one for wearing my beanies indoors, but that's OK. No judging on this blog. Besides, if i had hair like that, I'd be covering it up too.




Now, here he is in full-frontal glory. As the night wore on, and our jokes about him having Ellen Degeneres hair grew tiresome, he stopped cooperating.






See that fringe thing right there? What is that??!! No wonder i had to chase him around with a camera all night. For that special flair, he's chosen to sport a streak of brown in the front portion, while the rest of his locks remain blonde and tussled, like a lions mane. Unfortunately for my readers, our relentless mocking resulted in his refusal to shed the beanie for the remainder of the evening, so you won't be able to get the full effect. Some would call that selfish, Stevie. But not me. No judging on this blog.

I question the necessity of using the finger here. It's a little rude.




It's remarkably difficult to get the beanie positioned in such a way that the head remains fully covered EXCEPT FOR the fringe particle. There are two key elements - as you can see from the above demonstration, you must first remember to place the beanie over, and not behind, the ears, to ensure full mobility when arranging the front area just so.

Secondly, you don't want to pull the front over your forehead, but place it back from the crown, combing the fringe out and to the right, as pictured.

By the end of the evening, ridiculous measures were taken to avoid being in a picture. (Stevie, is this your hankie? Are your initials sewed into the corner?)...

... and in the end, i was simply given the hand, which, given my obsession with getting a shot of that bitchin' style cut, i took to mean: "Piss off, you psycho stalker".

Luckily, we remained friends in the end, and i was allowed to get a few proper frames (because after all, its the bad choices that should remain ingrained in time. Your children's children will enjoy it.)

Cuz's to the max

Ps: Stephen - Michael tells me that you spend an abnormal amount of time lying on your bed, surfing the net in your underwear. Please confirm.

Meanwhile, in the middle of nowehere...

We threw caution to the wind this weekend and went away. Somewhere REAL nice. In fact i took Thursday and Friday off work just for the occasion, rebel that i am. Our destination was Eagle View Escape, about 20 minutes west of Lithgow. It's one of those "couples only" places that likes to boast all the "couples only" things you can do there. Like play tennis. Yeah, we were lining up for that one. Or "enjoy the property at your leisure". Which is just a nice way of saying "stop being so lazy and go for a walk."




We stayed in a cabin out in the bush...









...that had a big bed and a big balcony and a spa and robes and room service...







...and i pretty much spent my days being a booze hag. Cause if Jo's gonna bring me back two bottles of expensive champagne duty free, then Lord knows I'm gonna drink it.

The bush was our backyard for a while, which was nice, being that I'm a city girl at heart. I don't think i could ever forsake the city forever though. I even love the noise, which is weird right? And the smell. Jo is a country boy though, so he was in his element.

We walked in the wild, amongst the animals, just like regular Dr Doolittle's. (Although i will just say, Jo was a total baby. He was too scared to go anywhere in the vicinity of the roos. Thought they were gonna walk right up and sucker punch him. Like they don't have better things to do, like eat grass.)

The property had a grand river running right through it - the landscape felt so quintessentially Australian actually, and that was really nice. I say it all the time, and i mean it - this country is so unique, it can be harsh and stark and hard, but there's a real beauty in all that. I mean look at this - this is special, you know?













We decided to go ahead and be a couple for a while, since it seemed the thing to do at a "couples only" place. So here's some couple-y goodness for you to enjoy, or puke at, or pin on your walls. Whatevs.

I hung out with a goat for a while, since it was there, and had a collar, which everyone knows is the universal signal for "this animal is a pet." So. It was totally safe and all.

We had dinner delivered hot to our door...

And i had about a billion of these...

...cause hell, bubbles just get me excited.

So it was all very nice! I read my book and we watched a ton of old Seinfeld episodes, and drank to our hearts content, and became one with nature....what more could we want.

On our way home, it started raining. Or so i thought. "Why is it raining funny?" i asked Jo. To which he replied, "That's snow you effing idiot".

Huh.

Well! How am i supposed to know! I've never seen snow fall from the sky! Does it snow in Sydney?? NO! Would i venture anywhere in winter where it DOES snow?? NO! What do you take me for!!!??? No no, the cold and me, we just aren't friends. So anyway, it snowed. And then it cleared. And then it snowed again. And then it cleared AND snowed. Goddamn weather.

We stopped into the Blue Mountains on our way back, and decided a bit of a bushwalk was in order.

Here's the bush

And here's the view.

And here's me with a waterfall

And here we are, couple of crazy kids in love.
(*insert finger in mouth. vomit. continue reading*)

Before we headed back to Sydney, we stopped in Leura, a pretty little town up there in the mountains, for scones and tea. On this occasion, our scones came in a flower pot.

Both kooky AND delicious. And that was the mini-break, and now its over and frankly that's depressing. Lucky i have about a thousand and one other things going on to divert my attention from the fact that i won't have another holiday till my honeymoon, which is freaken ages away. Again, i bemoan the fact that i can't have my cake and eat it too. (Who came up with this ridiculous saying by the way. Why would anyone buy a cake they didn't want to eat??? It's expression number 351 in the English language that MAKES NO SENSE!!!)

Don't you love it when...

...you get an extra long weekend? Like the one coming up?



(What's that you say? No long weekend for you, you say? Must just be ME!)



We're going bush. Luxury bush, where there be cabins with spa's and massive flat-screen TVs. But bush nonetheless. And there really is nothing more unique than the Aussie landscape. May as well enjoy it! (Champagne on the deck and all.) So long suckers! See ya in a few days!

A debate about pets

In my opinion, every little boy should have a dog to grow up with.



In Maria's opinion, i'm smoking some hard out crack.




And thus, the debate about whether or not i can buy Jack a puppy rages on. I first broached this subject some time ago, in order to give his parents plenty of notice. "When Jack's about 5," i said casually, "I wanna get him a puppy. Don't you think he'd love that?"




My remark was not met with the enthusiasm i expected. I'm surprised i didn't get smacked in the face for suggesting it. I believe the phrase "ARE YOU ON DRUGS??? ARE YOU???" made several appearances in Maria's tirade against my suggestion - a complete overreaction by the way. And when we got down to the nuts and bolts of it, her number one reason for not wanting Jack to have a puppy was "I can barely look after myself!"




Well now that's a concern, to be honest. I mean she does have a small child in her care. And mothers are supposed to be nuturing. That's why i'm NOT one. But hey, she made her bed two and half years and nine months ago. I say she has to lie in it. For a while, i thought she was exaggerating. All jokes aside, she's an great mum. She's taught Jack to (for the most part) sit still while we yack away in a coffee shop, or go shopping for new outfits, or have dinner out. I mean i totally respect that. And I couldn't see what the problem was. Until i remembered The Bird.




The Bird once had a name, i'm sure, but no-one remembers it. His very existance seems a mere whisper in my memory. We none of us like to talk about him much. You see, dear readers, Jack has a bird. But once upon a time, he had two. Two dear little birdies that he loved. One day, we went over and passed right by the cage as we always did, expecting to hear the two little birds happily tweeting away. But there was no tweeting. No indeed, and when we went to check out the source of the silence, we found only ONE forlorn looking little bird left. Obviously, i launched into an immediete investigation of Bird Two's disappearance.





"Where's the other bird?" I demanded. "Nowhere", she said dismissively.



HA! Like i believed that. "Nowhere? And how did it get nowhere?"




Silence. "Did he...escape?" i asked hopefully. More silence. Then: "Not exactly."




A cold shudder passed through me.




"Is he...dead?" i whispered fearfully. She whirled around. "Yes he's dead! And i did it! I killed him!"




I gasped. Cause hell, i didn't expect to get a confession so quickly. That's not how Law and Order works. Plus, i was totally miffed that i didn't get to try my good cop, bad cop routine on her.




To cut a long story short, it was revealed that she had starved Bird Two to death.



I know. Brutal.



The other one only survived through sheer will power. Despite Peter's constant reminders to feed the bird, change the water, clean the cage, she simply...didn't. They lived, seedless, for who knows how long, until she finally discovered it lying dead in its own crap, it's little voice silenced forever. Yup. What a way to go.




In light of this, i was forced to weigh the pro's and con's of getting Jack a puppy. Here's my list:




Pros

• Jack loves animals and i know he will love a dog
• It will teach him responsibility and give him something to really love, besides me
• It will piss Maria off
• I will get it from the pound, which means i will be saving a puppy from imminent death
• If they ever have another kid, he will be too diverted by the puppy to notice they aren't interested in him anymore. So really, i am doing them a favour.
• It will piss Maria off
• Dogs are commonly referred to as Man's Best Friend. One day Jack will be a Man. See? It just makes sense.
• Once i take the puppy over and become a hero in Jack's eyes, my responsibility will be over. So really, who cares.
• It will piss Maria off

Cons

• The dog may end up having some sort of horrible disease and die, thereby inflicting unnecessary pychological damage on Jack
• The dog might run away, thereby inflicting unnecessary psychological damage on Jack
• They will have to spend more money on dog food to feed the dog and less money on human food to feed me
• Maria might kill it

So there you have it. To dog or not to dog. What do you think?

South of broad

I dont even know what that title means. I think i heard it somewhere, or read it. Who the hell cares right? Anyways, on the weekend, i DID go down south, to Kiama and Berrima in the Southern Highlands of NSW. It's a very pretty area, and well worth the visit if you're ever in town, mainly because it's greener than anywhere else in this state - gets a lot of rain down there peeps.




The occasion was my friend Kama's birthday - and in typical Kama fashion, she chose a winery for lunch to celebrate. Hells yes! Thank you Lord, for boozy friends. I was in for sure, rain be damned. And since Jo is away in NZ, i was even picked up, at my door, for the long drive down. Sounds nice right? Except nothings really that nice at EIGHT IN THE MORNING!!!! (Tony, Kama - lunatics. Out of my bed at 7am on a public holiday?? It's lucky i like you're crazy asses.)




But first, we had to stop at Kiama for the markets. Kama is a secret market-whore. On weekends, she looks up which markets are on anywhere within driving distance so they can go. I know. I raised my eyebrow too. But what can i say, the gal loves homemade pottery. Markets run rife with that stuff. I can't deny her happiness on her birthday. (totally kidding Kama. we've all got a secret shame. mine is broadway musicals.)




It rained on the drive down, but stopped just in time for us to peruse the stalls in peace. Alas, there was no pottery to be had on this occasion. There were, however, some lovely tea towels that i had to restrain myself from buying. Saving for the wedding and all...

Markets at Kiama

A very windswept Kama and I. (what? it's hot.)

The thing Kiama is most famous for is its blow hole. (you guys. come on. i said blow HOLE.) It's absolutely obligatory that you go see the blow hole whenever you're there, even if you've seen it a thousand times before. I'm pretty sure the local authorities stop you on the (one) road out to make sure you have. You can get fined you know. For not supporting local blow holes. *sniggers*

OK. So yeah, we went to see the blow hole, which blew us off by not blowing all that spectacularly actually. You'll find the equally obligatory blow hole pictures below. Thousands of Australian familes have stood in this very spot, having this very picture taken, to be buried in photo albums under the bed for ever and ever amen.

Tony (my man for the day. well. i shared him with Kama. mainly when i needed someone to hold my handbag while i went to the loo), me, Mel and Con

Tony and Kama

Then it was off to Berrima for lunch, which was about another hour further south. South? West? Tony? The winery we went to was called Blue Metal, and their wines were in fact very good. A bottle of their sav blanc is chilling in my fridge as we speak. Nom noms. We had a taste testing (everyone did the whole sip and spit thing except me. i don't believe in waste.) and then shared some cheese and antipasto platters for lunch. By the way, i'm totally into quince paste right now. Contrary to popular belief, my palate is very refined.

After lunch, we headed back to the main street for a quick browse. I say main street as if there's actually more than one street in the place, which there's not. Let me tell you this. Every small town in the southern highlands has a jam shop. Its some sort of pre-requisite. They like to go all fancy with the jams too, and make really weird flavour combinations so that you'll be like 'hey! i can't get tomato and passionfruit jam from Coles! i have to buy this! if i don't buy this now, i may never get the chance to try it!' So then you buy it and take it home and spread it on your toast the next day and think 'wtf is this? why would i want a jam that combines the totally opposing flavours of tomato and passionfruit?' Don't worry if this has happened to you. It's happened to the best of us. Even i was sucked into buying a jam from the jam store on this trip. My flavour? Prickly pear and damask rose jelly. Sounds like something an old lady would spray on her pillow. But there you go, its in my kitchen right now, laughing at me, saying 'i can't believe you fell for that small-town charm and brought me home. you are a pathetic loser. palm me off to your mother as soon as possible.'

Here i am on Berrima's main street, in front of this fancy car that i was bullied into taking a photo with. I dont even know what kind of car this is. Why did i do this? Was i drunk? Can someone explain? Tony?




Spring in the southern highlands means TULIPS. They are everywhere.

I took this photo cause it looked like something straight out of the South of France. In fact, i've never been to the South of France, so i might be way off.

Kama and I, waiting for Con and Mel to be done already in the Christmas store. Yes, there is a Christmas store in Berrima, and those two crazy kids spent like an hour buying stuff from within its dark recesses. You guys. There's a Christmas superstore in Alexandria, 5 MINUTES DOWN THE ROAD FROM WHERE YOU LIVE!

Good wine and food and friends and a lovely way to spend the public holiday.