Hair today, gone tomorrow

Yesterday, as Rob and I gulped back tears, Scarlett had her very first haircut. It has never even been trimmed before, but as it had got so long and consequently knotty, we decided it was time. Brushing Scarlett's hair had turned into a nightly negotiation and we were sick of her resembling a child from a Barnardo's children's home poster with her food-slathered hair pasted across her face. Oh and she asked if she could have it cut. So we took her off to Clara's the local hair salon, where for $15 she was transformed from scruffy little girl to stylish bob-wearing grown up girl. Bizarrely it seems that it wasn't only hair that was cut away - a particularly frustrating period of terrible twos naughtiness that appeared since our return from the Uk has also vanished. Today she was more angelic than I can ever remember her being and Rob and I kept looking at each other and wondering what happened to the real Scarlett. Long may it last.

Hooray for Charlie

At about the same time we started telling people we were expecting a baby, three of our friends announced they were too. Lara and Adam are expecting their first baby about 10 days before us and Rob and Freya about 10 days after us. The most anticipated for us however was the arrival of the baby of our fantastic friends in England, Liz and Mike. Their first baby, Ruby, our god-daughter, died a day after she was born in January of last year. In September of last year Liz called to tell us they were pregnant again. We were beyond thrilled to get a call from Liz on Saturday morning telling us they had had baby Charlie Alonzo last week. Here is the little prince looking absolutely adorable, and the Bailey family altogether. Am not sure Liz and Mike could look any prouder. Hooray for Charlie.

There's a baby in there thar hills

'This week your baby weighs a little over 4 pounds and measures 17.2 inches from the top of his head to his heels. His skin is becoming less red and wrinkled, and while most of his bones are hardening, his skull is quite pliable and not completely joined. This will help him ease out of your relatively narrow birth canal.' Oh well that's ok then. Thank you helpful baby development website. I love the inappropriately and hopelessly optimistic term 'ease' in that sentence. Clearly written by someone who hasn't passed a watermelon before. Baby website also tells me that 'Your baby can swallow up to a litre of amniotic fluid each day, passing this out as a type of 'urine' through their kidneys and bladder, back into the fluid around them.' How deeply unsavoury. If I wanted the baby to swim around in urine I'd take it to the local pool. We had our 33 week scan yesterday, during which the sonographer told me 'the head's down'. Well I could have told her that without the hospital needing to invest in an expensive piece of ultrasound equipment. My guess is the baby's head has been 'down' for some time since I feel enormous pressure in my 'downstairs' most of the time. Still with more than 6 weeks left to go and the baby not quite yet cooked, we don't want it coming out too early, now do we? Slightly frustrated that our broadband still isn't going to be connected for another fortnight so can't yet post new pix of me and bump. Just imagine a bowling ball sellotaped onto the front of a woman and you're halfway there.

Happy Australia Day

Today is Australia Day, a day when everyone, except me and a few hundred other journalists, gets to take a public holiday and rejoice at being Australian and all that means. Chanting 'Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi' over and over again, drinking beer, having barbecues and taking part in a zillion public events on around the country. In Sydney there is the famous ferry race on the harbour and masses of fireworks tonight. There has been a big hoo ha because the organisers of the big music festival -The Big Day Out - that is on today have banned all Aussie flags and nationalistic symbols anxious their presence will inflame racial tensions. Everyone thinks it's nuts to give the racists control over the flag instead of taking it back as the British have done with the Union Jack after the National Front had it for years. Rather frustratingly my office overlooks Darling Harbour so we all get to look down on all the people having lots of fun without being able to join in. Rob is out and about with Scarlett. They are in the Botanic Gardens as I type getting ready to watch the ferry race. We are having a load of mates over for a late lunch tomorrow so we'll get to celebrate together then. Aussie, Aussie Aussie...


In other news it is now only 7 weeks until our baby arrives. It kicks like a striker all the time and is quite uncomfortable especially when I am sitting down and it really goes into full Jackie Chan mode. We have the cot set up, but superstition prevents us from doing much more until he or she arrives. I'm told second labours are typically about half as long, which bodes well as Scarlett was 6 hours door to door. Please let it be true. I can have the baby and be home in time for Neighbours at 3.30pm. We have numerous friends waiting for the call to swoop in and look after Scarlett for us and she has been briefed that she's not allowed to come to the hospital when the baby comes. This explanation is usually followed by a 'Is the baby coming out now?' question from Scarlett. Unlike when I was pregnant with Scarlett, I currently feel as if I have bowling ball suspended inside me and that if I cough or sneeze unexpectedly the baby will drop out at any moment. Apparently this sensation gets worse with every subsequent birth. I can't tell at this stage which way up the baby is and whether the bit sticking out at the top is the bum or the head. There is a great deal of activity all the time, much of which can be seen through my clothes, so we hope the baby is lot calmer once it comes out. I am still very small, but now obviously pregnant so it's been very weird for many of my colleagues who had no idea I was pregnant. I didn't really start to show until about 25 weeks, when we were in the UK and now I am back at work people keep coming up to me and saying 'I didn't know you were pregnant - when are you due?'. When I reply '7 weeks' they nearly faint. It's like I am having a special express pregnancy that you just add hot water to.

Blown off

I recently had the following column rejected by my editor for being 'distasteful'. I road tested it on my sister, who usually keeps a stiff upper lip on the subject of wind, but even she declared it 'hysterical' adding in her email response that she was 'wiping tears of joy from my face even as I type.' Personally I think both the reader's question and my answer are very funny, even if I do say so myself. Editors - what do they know anyway?.

Q. Being fairly uninhibited folk, my partner and I rate our burps out of ten. We have also considered rating our fluffies but here lies a problem. While burps are usually a single movement, the humble bum trumpet can be a multi-part symphony over the course of 5 to 6 seconds. We don't know on what basis to compare an excellent single blast with a multi-stage performance. Can you advise?
M.W, Artarmon, NSW
I understand your fascination with the scoring of gas omissions, having attended a mixed sex Roman Catholic secondary school in England in the 1980s. In the grimy days of Thatcher's Britain, the grading of one's blow offs was practically part of the curriculum. As an adult I fell in with a crowd who were as free and easy with their combustibles as you and your partner. Indeed when I met the man who would become my husband, I knew he was the one for me when during an early date he responded to a request to take a weekend away together with a brief trouser toot that I understood to mean, `I love you, Bognor sounds perfect.' Later in our relationship we began a system of gas grading using types of car to suggest quality. For example, a small, silent event that attracted no attention from an outsider would score only as a manual mini cooper, whereas an event that could still catch the ear and nostril of a stranger some metres away on a windswept beach would be scored as a Ferrari. I have retained the crown in this contest since 1992 following an episode aboard a British Airways flight from Turkey to England following a 3-week holiday on the Turkish coast. In my defence it was a trip punctuated by frequent spells in restaurants feasting on piles of creamy fetta cheese, ripe tomatoes, olives and aubergines. About an hour into the flight, a noiseless gas escaped from me causing the sleeping passenger next to me to not only snuffle awake (slowly at first and then in a state of panic, with arms waving, much coughing and spluttering) but to attempt to kick out the plane window in a kung-fu style in order to provide fresh air for herself and the other passengers in lieu of oxygen masks dropping down. It took a weightlifter from Theydon Bois to subdue her in the aisle. Which vehicle did we feel matched this moment? What else? To this day it is known to us as The Queen's Coronation Carriage of farts. Please feel free to use our system as your own. I think you'll find it useful as it allows you to talk on a subject most find unsavoury in a secret and polite way. I must go now as I have a Porsche Carerra in the carpark close to its expiry time.

We're in

We are finally in our new house and have had two nights there. So far we're loving it and have discovered the following:
It doesn't have a smoke alarm. I didn't notice the toaster was buggered and the toast was burning to a crisp and filling the high ceilings with smoke until Scarlett called out from the back garden in the manner of Steve McQueen in The Towering Inferno.
It is so big, we call 'where are you?'.
There is road noise from the very big main road we are close to, but we quite like it as background noise
We do not miss living under the flight path
Our old house might have been small but it had fantastic storage. Our new house is bigger but has very little.
The house is so big we have shoved everything we can't find a place for or don't know what to do with into two rooms we don't use yet and have closed the doors. When that happens, those boxes, those skis and that wedding dress simply do not exist.
Wooden floors are lovely but your feet get very dirty by the end of the day.
Having a huge garden is a great way of wearing out small children by throwing a ball for them to run after, over and over
Telephone companies all over the world are staffed by gibbering, drooling idiots who think it is helpful to say 'If you could stop raising your voice and swearing I'll try and help you.'
Scarlett thinks her new room 'is lovely' but is a bit freaked out by sleeping in it
Pam the cat is still living at our old house and we don't feel that inclined to go back and get her. Is this wrong?
We have lots and lots and lots of stuff even after we threw half of everything we own away.
We are very happy with our decision to move.
Once we are a bit more organised I will post some photos of the house.

On the move

We just spent the weekend driving between our house and the new place taking all the loose items that are too hard to pack for the movers - umbrellas, breadmaker, wedding dress, two year old. All quite stressful, particularly when trying to do stuff with small child constantly vying for attention. Bad mummy switched into gear by screaming at small child until she dissolved into tears, closely followed by mummy who felt like horrid heel. Made time the second day to do more fun things like go to the pool and hide under an umbrella from Daddy. Tomorrow Scarlett is having an extra day at nursery so we can finish all the packing and then we move on Wednesday. We'll be really sad to leave our lovely house. We have lived here for 5 years, the longest we have lived anywhere, it's the only house Scarlett and Pam the cat have ever known and we have had a lot of good times here. Last night, we went through all the things we will miss about Reuss Street and all the things we have to look forward to in the new place.
What we'll miss -
Sitting with the front door open hearing the noise passers by on the street
Our fantastic neighbours
Walking to our local Italian shops in the afternoons
The brilliant park in our street
Being 10 mins from the city
Sitting out the back at night under our palm trees listening to other people chatting in their backyards
What we're gaining -
A house twice the size, with 2 more bedrooms and an extra living room
A driveway big enough to do a three point turn in - not sure why this matters but it does
An enormous back garden
Haberfield and Five Dock's Italian shops
An organic market every week at the church in our street
NOT LIVING UNDER THE FLIGHT PATH - YAYYYYYYY!
Being 11 minutes from the city

Goodbye to all that

New year, new us. We have finally got over the jetlag and shocking colds that dogged us all of last week and have all enjoyed three restful nights without any nocturnal interruptions. Scarlett got over it all first, but kept waking in the night and yelling out for us seemingly confused by which bedroom she was in after all the different beds she slept in on our holiday. We have spent the last week, enjoying the balmy, muggy weather, swimming every day at the pool and Rob and I managed a day at the beach alone on Friday while Scarlett was in nursery and have managed to top up the golden tans that temporarily left us in Blightey. Having discovered that British Tv is just as rubbish as anywhere else, we have enjoyed a few quiet nights in front of the box watching the few shows here that are worth watching, thankfully not a thing with the word 'celebrity' in the title. We are now getting ready for our house move next week. We pick up the keys on the weekend so we can start moving over some bits and bobs, and the removal mob come on Wednesday with the big truck for all the furniture and boxes. We are really looking forward to all the extra space and in particular the massive back garden.

Happy New Year

We returned this week, on New Year's Eve morning, from 4 fantastic weeks away in Blightey visiting family and friends. We were based mainly with my Dad in Kent, popping frequently to stay at my sister's in East Sussex. The drive between their homes is a stunning thatched-cottage strewn dream of English country life and reminded me how much I took for granted the beautiful Kentish scenery when I was growing up there. It was brilliant to be in the cold, having to pile on jackets and boots for walks and outdoor excursions and it being dark at 4.30pm every night. It was so amazingly festive everywhere we went, trees and lights and carol concerts but sadly no real snow. Highlights included seeing our nephews Jack and William in their respective nativity play and carol concert, the Dickens Christmas Festival in Rochester complete with fake snow, our visits with great friends Liz and Mike in Whitstable (Liz and i got to compare bumps) and Moira and Fraser in Scotland, catching up with mates in London at our drinks party, a brilliant afternoon at the Tate Modern with Rick riding the tube slides, a gorgeous Sunday afternoon lunch with Ruth and Pete, the look on Scarlett's face when she realised Father Christmas had been, Dad's fantastic Christmas dinner and seeing George Michael in concert at Wembley and getting to spend an afternoon with our favourite honeymooners Sarah and Scott and their gorgeous children Jacob and Ruby who live in New York, but who flew over just for the afternoon to see us. Despite all expectations they would become lifelong friends, Jack and Scarlett fought like cat and dog so Maria and I have agreed they can't meet again until they are in their teens. We arrived back on Dec 31, jetlagged and full of colds, but managed to stay up for the 9pm fireworks, watched in style from an apartment in Walsh Bay over looking the harbour bridge.
In two weeks we are leaving our lovely home of the last 5 years in Leichhardt, renting it out and moving to a bigger house in nearby Ashfield, and from then will be known as the Duthies of Ashfield.

Happy, happy, happy

We have just had such a wonderful last weekend in Sydney for a few weeks. Friday was Scarlett's last day at nursery for the year and she said goodbye to all her friends, in particular her best friend there, Millie. On Saturday we spent the morning at the pool, throwing Scarlett about, swimming laps and doing lots and lots of jumping in brilliant sunshine. Then we went to the Royal Hospital for Women to visit Eve, the new baby daughter of friends Cait and Pete. Eve was born 8 weeks early and is very very tiny. She is being looked after in the special baby care unit and will stay there for a few more weeks until she can come home, hopefully for Christmas. That afternoon we all had a really long sleep before heading for dinner with our old neighbours and friends Dave and George. Scarlett was an absolute doll and stayed up until 10.30pm - her latest night ever - and behaved so well. In the end it was Mummy who needed to go home to sleep not her, or Rob who was happily on the cans all night. On Sunday we went to the christening of Oscar James Neale, the baby son of our friends Amelia and James. It was held in the beautiful chapel of The Kings School, and followed by a fantastic lunch at James and Amelia's house - the house we'll be moving to in January. Only 4 more sleeps until we fly, so Scarlett took the opportunity to try on her new winter hat, knitted for her by Rob's mum especially for our trip....

Hotter than July...

...and in fact every other month this year. Today was officially the hottest day of the year and in the words of Kool and his entire gang it was 'too hot baby'. Yesterday was the same - 40 something degrees. We all had a shocking sleep last night as it was 27 degrees overnight - OVERNIGHT - no amount of nocturnal cold showers can fix that. You just lie there awake, feeling like a hairdryer is being pointed at you. Rob was up between midnight and 5am, pacing. This morning we escaped the heat dungeon known affectionately as our house and headed straight for the beach where we could submerge ourselves in the Pacific every 10 minutes to cool down. Strong winds from the west brought the smoke from the fires that are currently consuming the Blue Mountains, and the harbour was filled, rather eerily, with smoky fog, taking on the appearance of London in a Victorian pea-souper. We spent the afternoon at the pool, mainly playing catch using Scarlett as the ball, which she loves. A southerly change is promised tonight which will hopefully blow this heat away. We watch the UK weather forecasts and sigh that we will soon we on our way to 'proper' Christmas weather rather than this Father Christmas in board shorts and flip flops nonsense.

Scarlett's social life

It's official - Scarlett has now reached an age where her social life has dwarfed my own. This weekend she was invited to three - count 'em - three birthday parties. In fact I got so confused by where we were going next, I got the day of one wrong and we arrived a fashionable 24 hours late. On Saturday it was Joshua's 2nd birthday party in Petersham park, a great venue with bbqs, wide shady trees and a swimming pool. We had such a lovely morning at the party we stayed for the afternoon too until Rob had drunk all Joshua's parents' beer and there didn't seem much point in remaining. On the walk home, Scarlett fell and now has a scab the size and shape of her entire nose. She scraped it from bridge to tip on a sandstone step. There was a lot of blood inside and out and a lot of tears. Scarlett was pretty unhappy, too. The next day we went to Isabelle's 3rd birthday party. Isabelle is Scarlett's friend from childcare and we were especially proud that she had secured her party invite independent of us. The party was held at a purpose-built kid's party venue that housed themed party rooms resembling prison cells. Our party was in the disco room and the kids were led in dancing and games by the pair of dim-witted twenty somethings who worked there and knew all the words to every Hi-5 song. The dancing was followed by a kid's lunch while all us parents stood around outside eating sandwiches and cake. On Sunday, after a morning of vigorous aqua-athletics at the pool, we had a long sleep and headed off to Tom's 1st birthday party to be held in a park on the harbour. Perplexed at finding no one else there at the appointed time, we headed to his parents' house, assuming the venue had been changed due to some strong wind on the beach. Instead we found a neighbour who informed us that had we arrived at the same time on the previous day, we would have enjoyed ourselves very much at Tom's party. This sort of mistake is so unlike me that Rob immediately accused the baby of stealing my brain and demanded to look at our invite to a friend's son's christening this coming weekend, to check I had that correct. 'They do have a baby, do they?' he asked scowling with a face reminiscent of a young Glenda Jackson. I am impossibly excited that we now only have 10 more sleeps (not including lunchtimes of course) until we leave for England and I have only 3 more days at work. Have soooo switched off from work, it's not funny, and find I am simply going through the motions without really taxing myself. About to head off in a mo. Rob and Scarlett are picking me up from work and we are going to the opening of our friend Luke's exhibition of his life drawings at a gallery in Surry Hills. Lovely.

Happy Birthday Rob

Yesterday was Rob's birthday. I know everyone thinks he is the same age or younger than me because of his youthful good looks, but no, he is in fact 5 years older than me - d'ya hear me - FIVE YEARS - that makes him 43. The day began as the coldest day in November history since 1905. Winds howled and storm clouds brewed. Scarlett was booked into nursery as usual for Thursday and I had taken the day off work to spend with Rob. Unfortunately almost before the day had begun, I received a phone call informing me my planned birthday present had to be cancelled due to bad weather. I had arranged months ago for Rob to have a flying lesson, a lesson that would see him eventually take the controls on a flight over Sydney. Bummer. Thankfully I had also bought him a webcam and some handmade chocolates. Instead, we headed for Westfield Bondi, a giant shopping mall, so I could spend money on Rob and generally act as a servant and bag carrier as is traditional in our marriage on birthdays. A highlight was Rob trying on what he thought were a pair of black flares but ended up channeling Marcel Marceaux. Then we headed back to Leichhardt to the movies to watch The Prestige. A very clever film from the writer/director of Memento and Insomnia, full of clues and twists that keeps you guessing until the end. Last night with Scarlett fully unconscious we headed out to dinner at a new French place round the corner that recently earned an excellent review and score by our restaurant reviewer. We had a fantastic dinner with 5 friends and finally fell into bed at midnight - Rob very very drunk.

Sculpture by the sea

On Wednesday we awoke to the most amazing gloriously hot day and piled into the car to Tamarama Beach to see this year's Sculpture by the Sea exhibition. Artists display huge works of art on the beach and along the cliff path between Tama and Bondi. A favourite this year was the melted ice cream van, that appeared to have melted into the pavement, with even its version of Greensleeves slow and warped. Scarlett and her friend Peggy, visiting from England, had a ball charging about in the sand.

Belinda Emmett

I was very upset at the weekend to hear of the death of actress Belinda Emmett from secondary breast cancer. Belinda is best known here in Australia for being a former star of the soaps Home & Away and All Saints, and also appeared in films and recorded albums. She was also the wife of comedian and Tv talk show host Rove McManus. I met her a couple of times over the years, at the launch of the ovarian cancer fundraiser book Exposure (http://www.exposure-book.com/index.html) in which we both appear and at the Logie TV awards. She was diagnosed with breast cancer the same year as I was, but her cancer returned in her bones three years later. She has been battling it ever since. Her death at the weekend still came as a huge shock to her family and friends. I couldn't help but feel we had lost one for our team and once again realised how very lucky I am to be here and to have all I have.

larti self-portrait

We had a great day at our Melbourne Cup lunch on Tuesday. We didn't back the winner but we had a hoot being judges of Fashions in the Field. The food was wonderful and I remember everything about it this year. Only 21 more sleeps until we leave for London. We are all impossibly excited about our holiday, though to be fair Scarlett is more excited about the impending arrival of her new holiday bag which is on wheels for her to pull along and has her name on it. We have talked a lot about Christmas and the baby Jesus and family and how it is a happy time with (hopefully) lots of snow and presents for good little girls only. We just need to work out how to explain how Father Christmas will get into Dad's house as he doesn't have a chimney.

Home again

We got back home to our house last night after three weeks housesitting for our friends Zoe and Paul at their huge house on Sydney's Northern beaches. By housesit I mean we hassled and called Zoe and Paul repeatedly until they finally caved and reluctantly agreed to hand over their keys. Despite some pretty unbeachlike weather we managed a few lovely breakfasts at Curl Curl, a couple of gorgeous afternoons swimming in the ocean pool at Freshwater and had friends for breakfast and lunch by the pool at Zoe's house. A highlight of our stay was Scarlett riding a bike for the first time. Looks like that might be making it to the top of the birthday list for her next year. Despite all the extra space - our house fits in theirs at least twice -it was lovely to get back to Leichhardt, all our familiar things and in particular our bed which is the world's most comfortable. I went to bed at 8.30pm last night with my book and was asleep by 9pm. Bliss.
Tomorrow is Melbourne Cup, famously 'The Race That Stops the Nation". And it really does. Melbourne pretty much closes completely as everyone heads to the track or to parties and lunches showing the 4pm race. Everyone dresses up more extravagantly that at any wedding here. Women wear hats or fascinators, gorgeous dresses and men wear suits. The fashion is half the event. Traditonally everyone gets very very drunk on champagne, there are sweepstakes, prizes for best dressed and the day is a right off. Even in Sydney, everyone stops work to watch it. Screens are erected in public squares and pubs and resturants host big parties and lunches. Even here in my building, which houses about 3,000 people in different companies, there is a huge champagne party put on in our large foyer for everyone who works here with a big screen for watching the race. This year Scarlett will be going to nursery for an extra day and Rob and I have been invited to a lunch at Cafe Sydney, a gorgeous restaurant overlooking the bridge and opera house. We have both been asked to be judges of the fashions at the lunch - I am judging best dressed woman and best shoes with a fashion designer and Rob is judging best tie and best jewellery with a jewellery designer. I won't be able to go crazy on the pop this year - this is a good thing - last year I was so smashed I had no recollection of picking Scarlett up from nursery - but I'm sure that won't stop Rob.

yup, definitely a baby

We had a Duthie family outing to the hospital yesterday (with Scarlett, and Rob's mum in tow) for our 19 week anomaly scan. I love going back to the RPA - it is where Scarlett was born and where I had all my treatment and surgery. Even though this is second time around, it still moved us enormously to see our growing baby jumping around, swallowing great gobfuls of amniotic fluid and jiggling its hips. Shake it baby. It has a tremendous spine and at one point I queried whether it might be a greyhound. This was better than the question Rob asked of the doctor when we were pregnant with Scarlett - 'how will we know if we are having a dwarf?'. I managed to pass this off as the idle remark of a New Zealander obsessed with hobbits. Scarlett took more interest in what the lady with the jelly stuff was doing to Mummy's tummy. I think she thinks the lady is hurting me because she climbed onto the bed and hugged and kissed me during the scan. We saw the four chambers of the baby's heart, the brain and the little feet. Anyhoo, here are a couple of pix of our baby.

Matron, pass the smelling salts...

...I was heard to mutter on hearing the news that after seven months - SEVEN MONTHS - our flat in Islington will finally exchange and complete next Friday. I'm not sure if it is wise of me to believe this information even though it came straight from the trusted keyboard of my solicitor. We accepted an offer in March. MARCH. Ever since we have had delay after delay mainly as a result of the gibbering idiot our buyer put in charge of his legal affairs, a lawyer our buyer has since reported to The Law Society. To say I am relieved would be putting it mildly. On top of Rob's job loss, the realisation that as a result we can't afford to buy a bigger house, a pregnancy and facing up to having to move from our beloved house to a larger rented house to make room for our growing family, having to deal with all of this flat sale stuff from the other side of the world too has been, shall we say, a strain. Bring on completion date October 27. What a glorious date it sounds. Having said that we love having Rob at home all the time (he does all the cleaning, laundry, driving us about, cooking, shopping), are looking forward to our move in January to the lovely new house and can't wait to meet the new Duthie in March or as Scarlett refers to the non-existent bump 'my baby or sister'. October is Good Food Month in Sydney. Last night after work I met Rob and Scarlett in Hyde Park and we went to the Night Noodle Markets. The park is lit by red lanterns and 50 odd food stalls sell all kinds of Asian food, wine and beer accompanied by a DJ from Cargo Bar. We drank wine and beer, ate noddles, chicken and rice and took it all in. Sydney does outdoor events so well,it was a magical night.
We are house sitting again at the moment at Zoe and Paul's house in Curl Curl on Sydney's northern beaches. It's quite a bit further out from the city than where we live but feels like such a friendly self-contained community with great local shops and surf beaches a-plenty all within a few minutes walk or drive. It's so nice to be able to pop to the beach for just an hour rather than the whole day. Wednesday afternoon was baking so we went to Freshwater Beach, had a lovely walk along the beach and around to the ocean pool where we swam. Pulling the plug on Scarlett's bath water and finding all the remnants of sand left behind is so lovely.
We have an early dinner with friends tomorrow night before Rob picks up his Mum from the airport - she's staying for a week, and on Sunday a late lunch with friends. Shame the forecast is for rain all weekend. In fact as I type rain has just starting lashing the window of my 26th floor office. Oh joy.

The house that Rob built

Just had a right laugh on a weekend away in the Megalong Valley (yes, that really is it's name and it is mega long) in the Blue Mountains.I always laugh that this region west of Sydney is described as mountains when it is in fact a long range of canyons that you look down on. I just don't get the Blue Mountains at all. Ok, they are quite a bit higher than sea level than the rest of the state but mountains is really pushing it. Let's just say as you drive along the flat road that runs along the top of the range, you are hardly transported to the cuckoo clocks and leiderhosen of Switzerland. The biggest town, Katoomba, is quite a tip, full of crummy 'antique' shops and fudgeries and apart from a view hotels with nice views down the valleys, being the home town of 'yulefest - the annual Christmas in July festival' doesn't impress me one bit. Give me the alps any day. That said we headed off on Friday evening to meet up with neighbours Rob and Freya and friends Deb and Ewan and their son Joshua at a house Rob built for Ewan's uncle (pix to come). It is in the middle of nowhere deep in the Megalong Valley and is accessed by dirt track and after passing through 3 separate farm gates. Kangaroos, hop, cows moo, horses neigh and really loud sqawky birds wake you at 5am. That's if you have been kept awake all night by possums on the tin roof and a bird that makes a sound likes it's opening an closing an umbrella. The house is a huge wood and glass structure with a main house and two guest cabins connected by a wooden walkway. The loo is one of those composting ones you don't want to inspect too closely with a torch but which is entirely odour free and fantastic for the environment - the human 'compost' going on to be reused in the garden. Thought Scarlett would freak out when she saw the big dark hole but she couldn't care less. The house sits at the bottom of a huge sandstone escarpment that looks amazing as the sun hits it throughout the day. It was 35 degrees on Saturday so we entertained the kids with a container of water and a sandpit. After a big lunchtime sleep we all piled into the back of the flatbed farm truck and bounced off across the fields to see horses and cows. The kids LOVED the truck, no seatbelts, in fact no seats, just lots of bouncing about. Later we fed the horses carrots which sent Scarlett into hysterics of laughter as their big teeth and lips snaffled the food from her little hand. Salivatastic. We were shattered when we got back home last night and were all in bed by 8.30pm fast asleep. Today we're off to the north shore for 3 weeks to house sit for Zoe and paul. They have a house you could fit ours in at least twice, it has a pool, a big garden and best of all is 5 minutes from two fantastic surf beaches and I get to commute to work by ferry which I'm looking forward to. I'm sure Zoe and Paul think we are quite odd wanting to move into their house, but for us it's like a holiday. Then there's only 3 weeks after we come back home that we head to Blightey. Yahoo!

Finally...

We've had a few balls in the air recently and it looks as if a couple of them are falling into place. We've been trying to sell our flat in London and despite having had an offer made and accepted in March, it has been dragging on and on and on because of the wording in one sentence of the contract that our buyer's lender's lawyers didn't like. I could scream. This week it looks as if all will finally be approved and we can move on. Since Rob was made redundant, it has played on my mind. We have also been waiting to find out if we could rent a house owned by the family of good friends of ours. It is much bigger that our house with avery large garden and now that we have another baby on the way, it's a move we need to make in the early part of next year. We heard this week that the house is ours from January at a terrific rent. We'll rent our house out and move to the new place in plenty of time for the baby's arrival in March. Best of all it'll have a guest room so we can finally have people to stay with us without handing them a blanket and pointing them in the direction of the couch. Also after a few weeks worrying about the baby's progress, all appears to be well. At 17 and a bit weeks, I am still not showing and have no symptoms of pregnancy (just like with Scarlett) so was relieved to hear a lively heartbeat at our four-weekly check up at the hospital this week. In two weeks we have the big 19 week scan when we make sure its arms and legs are in the right place and that it only has one head, although two heads are better than one. It's been great as two good mates here are expecting at the same time and we are all due within a week or two of each other. The weather is gorgeous at the moment, we are spending lots of time at the pool and beach and are going away this weekend with our neighbours to the Blue Mountains to stay in an amazing house our neighbour Rob built for our other neighbour Ewan's uncle. Confused?.

Action packed

Here is the pic of Rob and Scarlett at the launch party for Good Food Month that appeared in the social pages of the Sun-herald our sister paper. I am out of the shot, because I work at the paper, and Scarlett is looking at me.
What a great three days we've had. I took Friday off work as it was Mum's 11th anniversary. Every year I like to take the day off if I can and do something nice. This year we packed ourselves off to Clontarf reserve, a gorgeous park, beach and shark-proofed pool on the middle harbour, overlooking yachts at anchor and enormous harbourside homes. We bumped into Zoe, Sam and baby Bronte who were there meeting other friends. Zoe ended up leaving Sam with us for a couple of hours to play with Scarlett while she raced off to the shops. It was a gorgeous day that allowed me plenty of time to think about the good times with Mum, but also made me sad to see my beautiful girl running around so happy all day knowing she and Mum will never meet.
On Saturday we spent the morning at the pool where Scarlett delighted all with a display of serial pooing that led from the baby pool to the toilet. By the time I managed to race her into the shower, almost everything she had deposited in her bathers had made its way out of the leg, creating a trail of poo piles even the sloppiest detective would have no trouble following. Thankfully the lifeguard thought nothing of the drought and whipped out the fire hose to clear it away. After the pool it was off to Coogee beach for Cait and Pete's son Max's 2nd birthday party. It was lovely to sit in the sun and catch up with them over a few fruit juices and slices of birthday cake. We all had a big sleep on Saturday afternoon in preparation for taking Scarlett out for dinner. We used to take her out a lot when she was a baby as she'd nod off in the pram but we wanted to see if she could behave well eating with us in a restaurant. We booked a table for 6pm at a great local Italian place that is used to families and young children and it went without a hitch. She loved her share of our pizza and pasta, entertained herself watching the other diners and enjoyed drawing on the paper table cloth with her pencils. The staff were all over her and she loved it. We then did the promenade thing through Leichhardt a popular pursuit in our suburb, lifted straight from Italy, when families get all dressed up and walk up and down the main street eating gelato and watching people in bars and restaurants. Young lads in tricked up cars drive slowly up and down the main drag blasting their car horns that play the theme from The Godfather. Scarlett enjoyed herself so much she cried when it was time to go home for bed. On Sunday morning we raced to get the paper to see if Scarlett's picture made it into the social pages and it did!. She flicked through looking for pix of Uncle Brett and photos of our other media mates who are normally in there. When she saw herself she was so excited. We had a brilliant afternoon at the home of our mates Chris and Stef and their kids GG and Harrison. They have just moved back to Stef's parents' enormous home on the harbour. It has a pool and overlooks yachts and multi million dollar houses. The kids ate, played and bathed together while we had dinner and a good catch up. Fell in to bed shattered last night but was kept awake by various parties going on around the place as it was a big Rugby final weekend and it's a bank holiday here today so no one (except journalists it would seem) had to come into work today. Was very sad to be dropped off at the office today by Rob and Scarlett knowing they were heading off to the fish market to provoke crabs and then onto the pool for the day. Sob.

Koalas, wiggles and snakes

Scarlett has had a busy couple of weeks. The weather has been gorgeous so we have been back at the beach regularly and started back at the pool again too. Rob and I take turns doing laps and playing with Scarlett in the kids pool. Rob and Scarlett went to a special 15th anniversary Wiggles concert at the invitation of our friends George with her kids Sophie and James. It was celebrity packed (by Australian standards at least) affair and Scarlett danced and sang alongwith Russell Crowe and Miranda Otto's kids. Afterwards they headed to Luna Park and the Merry go round. A new mini zoo opened in Sydney last week called Sydney Wildlife world. It's an amazing Armadillo-like structure on the roof of the Aquarium in Darling Harbour and promises a quick look at Australia's animals without needing to have a full day at taronga zoo. I thought it was pretty lame. The habitats and building itself are pretty cool but there was hardly anything to see. You had to squint to see two koalas way up in the trees and the only sighting of a wallaby was of its legs poking out from behind a bush. And for my $30 I expect exhibits more interesting than bull ants. I can see these in my back yard for free. However we did get to play with a friendly carpet python. Rob took Scarlett to the zoo with her friend and doppleganger Sam where they were treated to the results of a new experimental breeding programme they are running there to create much larger animals with some success. Finally Scarlett made her first outing into Sydney Society on Monday night when she joined Rob and I at the cocktail party for the Launch of Good Food Month. It was a smart affair with cocktails, champagne and canapes. Scarlett had her first taste of caviar which went in ok but was quickly spat back out. However she loved the smoked ocean trout. She was also photographed by one of the Sunday papers for its society section which comes out on Sunday so we are hoping she makes it in this weekend.

Wet, wet,wet

We headed away this weekend, down the coast two hours to Gerroa, a beachside village at the head of Seven Mile Beach noted for how little there is to do there except enjoy the surf and the beach. We rented a beach house with old friends Martin and Drew, and despite some of the wettest weather ever recorded in Sydney last week, were expecting a weekend of sun. In my mind's eye we would be spending our days sunbathing, swimming and lazing about, Sweet Manhattans in one hand, Raoul the Columbian pool boy in the other, and our nights on the deck barbecuing and sipping white wine.
During the 2 hour drive to Gerroa on Friday night we are optimistic - the skies are clear and blue, we watch the sun set and the moon rise. What do those weathermen know anyway? Then ahead, on the freeway, the sky is blackened by the appearance of the sort of dark clouds usually reserved for the apocalypse, rising like volcanic smoke from the horizon. Then the rain begins to fall, and lash and lash... until only the hysterical setting on the windscreen wipers will do. I know this all sounds like a recipe for disaster but think again. As it turned out the house was so gorgeous it mattered not what the weather was doing. Architecturally interesting, the house was constructed as two pavilions, a rear one, home to three bedrooms and two bathrooms, connected to the front pavilion by a deck. The front pavilion was a huge open plan L-shaped kitchen/living/dining room with impossibly comfortable leather couches surrounding a fireplace, an immaculate modern kitchen centred around a large stone island and, best of all, floor-to-ceiling windows offering uninterrupted views along the beach. We had the fire lit all day every day, food cooking, wine open, papers out and there we stayed. Our one excursion was a hastily aborted attempt at a walk on the beach, from where we were sent packing by violent winds and a cold, sobbing two year old. Truly there was nothing better than being trapped in this divine house, safe and warm, while we watched the tempest rage outside from front row seats. Perfect.

Oh what a night

A big night on Monday at the Good Food Guide Awards. The star attraction was uber chef Alain Ducasse, the only chef in the world to hold 14 Michelin stars at his various restaurants. The big upset of the night concerned Neil Perry. His restaurant, Rockpool, has held 3 chefs hat awards for several years. Last year he lost a hat and there was uproar. There was an expectation that this year he would win the third hat back (he even brought along a TV documentary camera crew to record the event) but it was not to be. Controversy reigned when during his speech Alain Ducasse declared his outrage that Perry's hat was not returned. Great night with amazing food and much champagne. I made an unusually dignified exit at 11pm, dropping Rob off at an afterparty on the way home. He arrived home at 2.30am.
On Thursday night Sydney was hit by an incredible storm. We were woken at midnight by an incredible clap of thunder that shook the house and scared the bejesus out of Scarlett who climbed into bed with us. The recorded rainfall over the city of a zillion mm or something, broke all records from this century and the last. That much rain hasn't fallen since 1883, which I guess explains why our kitchen flooded into the hall.

Happy Father's Day

What a top weekend. We awoke on Saturday to a 28 degree day, not bad for the second day of Spring, and sprinted to the beach for the morning. I took my first dip of the season, a lively event that saw me alternately whimpering, grimacing and cringing and I lowered myself deeper and deeper into the freezing ocean. I had to wait a good 5 minutes until my lower body had gone completely numb, and reduced my overall body temp, before I could fully submerge myself. In the afternoon, we went for a bbq at the home of our friends Lara and Adam, who delighted us with the news that they are expecting their first baby. They live in an amazing apartment with a deck that overlooks a rainforest. You can walk down a track from their deck into a deep valley and eventually to a creek. Scarlett loved it. Yesterday was Father's Day here. Scarlett presented Rob with a painting from nursery, a new book about Daddy and a voucher for a spa pedicure to sort out his middle aged foot situation. Good grief. We met up with friends in the Botanic Gardens for a morning picnic. Olga, our friend Deb's mum came too and did an excellent job of entertaining the children while we sipped champagne. After a long lunchtime sleep, we had more friends over in the afternoon for a late Father's Day lunch. A brilliant day but it all ended in tears, quite literally, when a certain two and half year old found it all a bit too exciting come bedtime. Tonight we are going out to the biggest event in the Sydney restaurant calendar - the Sydney Morning Herald Good Food Guide Awards. It is a hugely spectacular party at the Opera House at which restaurants are awarded hats, prizes are given and hearts either soar or are broken depending on the results. As Deputy Editor of the food section of the paper I already know all the results and know exactly which chefs to stand behind when they announce them. There will be a lot of bad language tonight as a couple of chefs have no idea they are going down. More on this later in the blog.

A koala isn't a bear, it's a marsupial

We spent a very funny morning this week at the Featherdale WIldlife Park in the outer west of Sydney. It is completely bizarre place to find a wildlife sanctuary because it is located within a massive housing estate in the middle of the burbs. Sydneysiders are notoriously postcode prejudiced and anywhere too far west is considered the wild west. We would have been regarded as bold indeed to venture out along the freeway further than Parramatta 'quelle horreur!' to Doonside. The sort of place where a punch in the face is as good as a handshake. Our amusement began when after paying to get in we passed the wall of fame littered with photographs of the famous who had passed before us. It tickled us greatly to note that Matt Damon, the blonde bloke from 90210 whose name no one ever remembers and boxing legend and 'grilling innovator' George Foreman had also driven through the miserable streets of Doonside. What must they have been thinking as they stared from their limousine windows, mouths agape, marvelling at all the cars parked on lawns, sheets pinned up to windows as curtains and various unshaved blokes standing around on street corners polishing their flick knives? Inside, once the lively pong of animal wee subsided we were greeted by a fantastically friendly and very large wombat. I hadn't seen a wombat since I first came to Australia on holiday in 1993, when I got to cuddle one at another wildlife park. They are so cute. Behind us wallabies and kangaroos bounced up and all around huge birds screamed and shreiked in a way only Australian birds can, pelicans gibbled their giblets and fairy penguins waddled passed. Next we were into the massive koala area where 30 odd koalas clung to trees in various states of sleepfulness. Most people wrongly think koalas sleep all day because they are stoned from eating a diet reliant solely on eucalyptus leaves. It is actually because they stay up late watching talk shows and reruns of David Attenborough documentaries. Everytime one of them woke up, they were grabbed from their perch and placed on a makeshift tree branch in order to be photographed and petted by people like us. Our one - Monty - was soooo soft. Then we were into the children's petting zoo - my favourite bit. I just about did a toilet in my pants when as soon as we walked in, a baby lamb ran up to me for a cuddle. A cuddle! If only I had known this day would come I wouldn't have bothered wasting hours in my younger years planning pincer movement traps for sheep through fields in Scotland, shouting 'mint sauce'. There were also rabbits, guinea pigs, goats and a big pig all craving our attention. We also spotted Tasmanian Devils, a crocodile, snakes and spiders and a selection of high speed commuter trains that whizzed noisily passed the perimeter fence every few minutes reminding us we were not deep in the outback but deep in the outer west. Every time I experienced this reality check I felt sorry for the local housewives as I considered the quantity and consistency of bird poo they would have to contend with on their washing - remember there are pelicans flying unencumbered here - think a bucket of white paint and double it. Although it was a bit grotty and run down it was also incredibly child friendly and lots of fun. If it's good enough for Ian Zering, it's good enough for us. Scarlett enjoyed it too.

Wet, wild, windy and gloriously hot

A bizarre weekend weatherwise. Maybe Al Gore is onto something. On Saturday we managed to fill an entire morning satisfying Scarlett's fondness for public transport and our own fondness for going out for breakfast. We jumped on the bus from Leichhardt to Circular Quay, a journey punctuation by squeals of delight from Scarlett along with many many 'There's another bus' comments. From there we boarded the ferry across the harbour to Luna Park, Sydney's very own homage to Coney Island, where we had breakfast at Ripples, a cafe right under the harbour bridge with very cool views back to the city and opera house. While I tucked into a satisfyingly large wild mushroom omelette with rocket and pesto, Scarlett made light work of some sour cherry toast and Rob looked disappointed with his poached eggs on toast. A quick sojourn to Luna Park in time for Scarlett to meet park mascot Lunabelle and we were off again on a bumpy and windy ferry ride round to Darling Harbour, huddled against the gale and threatening rain. Then back on the bus home. Once again Scarlett's 'baby' doll caused great alarm to all who saw it slumped forward in the doll pram its head scraping the pavement, assuming it to be our not much cared for second child. On Sunday the weather couldn't have been more different. We met Jules and Lenka, Zoe and Paul and their broods at the beach where we lay in the sun all morning, paddled in the rock pools, sipped flat whites and nibbled at moist fruity friands. As I type this morning at my desk, rain is lashing my 26th floor window. Rob and Scarlett are taking the air in the Botanic Gardens. I wonder if I might see them moving swiftly past my window any time soon.

Spring has sprung

Spring has sprung early even though it's still winter. We spent a glorious couple of days at Balmoral beach this week, lying in the sun, splashing in the surf - still too cold for a full dip - reading the papers and eating fresh stuffed rolls from the kiosk. On Tuesday we met our friends Stef and our old next door neighbour George and their kids. Our girls - Sophie, GG and Scarlett - all aged between 2 and half and 3 and a half, get on really well and love playing together on the beach. Rob took them off, Pied Piper style, for a walk to the island that divides the beach in two, now renamed Dragon Island, for adventures and dragon hunting. They loved it and came screaming back along the sand declaring they had seen a dragon. It reminded me of when we were kids and our Dad set up a dinosaur trail in a quarry that led to a cave.

Spring Forward...

I am soooo looking forward to Spring, which officially begins on September 1st, and for the warm weather to return. We got a hint this weekend of what's to come and for the first time last night kicked off the American quilt that nightly tops our winter weight duvet. We spent a happy and sunny Saturday morning at the organic growers markets with Martin and Drew, bumping into our mates Ewan, Kel and Sarah and their offspring at the jumping castle. Once Scarlett was all jumped out we queued with the best for the bacon and egg rolls that have become the toast of the market, stocked up on flat whites, lattes and ginger cordial before sitting in the sun to eat. I spent $10 on shitake and oyster mushrooms from the mushroom man and was happy to be relieved of $9 by the flower man in exchange for a huge bunch of yellow tulips, yet to flower. After a lunchtime sleep we headed to Clark Rubber, home of custom cut foam, to get Scarlett a new cot mattress. Who knew foam could be so much fun? They also sell above-ground pools, pool supplies and accessories, so while Rob waited for our foam to be cut Scarlett and I entertained ourselves by trying on goggles and fins and punching an inflatable duck in the face. The new foam is part of the transition from cot to bed. We have put away the sleeping bags she has slept in since birth and have remade the cot with sheets and blankets as if it were a bed. The next step is to get her in the bed. Every time we show her the big pink bed on the IKEA website she looks delighted. But as soon as I suggest she sleep in it, she shakes her head, pouts, points at her room and says "No. I don't like it. I want to sleep in my cot in there.' We were hoping if we had her in a bed before we go back to England it would make our trip easier if we didn't have to cart a travel cot around.
In the evening I made Terry Durack's recipe for Mushroom risotto using pearl barley instead of rice and my mushrooms man mushrooms. It was a triumph. But let me add, that pearl barley seems to have quite an effect on the digestive system, if you get my meaning, and a night of the dancing duvet ensued. We also watched V for Vendetta which is quite a film of our time. On Sunday I chained Rob to the dining table to finish his new CV while Scarlett and I headed to the the sunny park at the end of our street. Rob appeared momentarily dragging and scuffing his feet in the manner of a sulky teenager, declaring it was 'too hard'. I distracted him from his attempts at a career change by whisking him and Scarlett off to the neighbouring suburb of Five Dock for the Italian festival, Ferragusto. We ate pizza, Italian doughnuts, corn on the cob and Italian sausages, and Scarlett had her face painted. Then we all went home and slept for 2 hours. In the afternoon, a short walk delivered us back to the local park where we bumped into Deb and Ewan, Kel and Sarah again who were, along with many others, enjoying the heat of the late afternoon sun and a bottle of champagne. We have arranged to meet up again next Sunday at Petersham Park, where they have bbqs for a late lunch early dinner cook out. As I say I can't wait for Spring.

Cold and old

Another fun weekend despite feeling old and cold. On Friday, two incidences at work made me realise that some of my colleagues think I either look, or am, much older than my 38 years. Shocked of Leichhardt!! Rob is 43 this year and still looks younger than me. I find him very handsome as he ages. Since Rob's job finished he has been pottering about at home. It is very nice having him around all the time and Scarlett loves the extra time with him too. Today they are spending the morning perusing the Art Gallery of New South Wales while I am in the office. We watched Transamerica on Friday night. We loved Felicity Huffman but found the story quite slow going. Still a low budget movie and made before she was famous. On Saturday we met Martin and Drew for breakfast at Brasserie Bread, the great bakery. A serving of bacon and egg pie, sourdough pancakes and granola with fruit and yoghurt later, we armed ourselves with bread for dinner and headed to the beach. We managed about 9 seconds before we were lashed with rain and violent winds that sent us running for the cover of our cars. Saturday night Melissa and Larry and baby Lotus, and Kendall and Brett came for dinner. A brilliant night despite an interruption to the main course. Just as we were sitting down I heard Scarlett's cough turn into a vomit. I excused myself from the table and in under five minutes I managed to soothe her, strip and remake her cot, change her clothes and sleeping bag and get her back into the cot without anyone at the table knowing what had happened. No point ruining a good dinner with a vomit story now is there? We seem to have sleeping sickness in our house at the moment as we have all been sleeping in until 8.30/9am. Scarlett used to be our 7am alarm clock but seems to have outgrown that. Maybe it's the very unusual cold, wet weather we are are having so much of this winter but none of us can get out of bed in the mornings. I had to drag myself out of bed on Sunday morning to go and do the Bay Run, a 7km circuit around the bays near where we live. In the afternoon we went to GG's 3rd birthday party which was in a brilliant park on the north shore with lots of kids toys and sandpits and climbing frames and silly mirrors. However it was so cold we were soon bundling ourselves back into the car and applying layers of chapstick to our extremities. Until summer our life is all about casseroles, turning the heater on at 10am to warm the house by the evening and applying ointment to nasal sores caused by extreme nose blowing.

Weekend at Banjo's

Just back from a brilliant weekend away in the Hunter Valley, 3 hours north of Sydney, with our friends Chris and Stef and their children Genevieve (GG)and Harrison, and Rachel and her daughter Ava. All the kids got on brilliantly, sitting down to eat together at their own special table at meal times, and LOVED the interaction they got with one of the wild kangaroos that live in the bush around the house we rented which they got to stroke and feed. We spent our days walking, eating, playing tennis, table tennis, mini golf, eating, visiting the local olive grove and village, eating and playing on the swings. Our nights, once the kids were all bathed and in bed comprised eating fine food we all took turns cooking and reading trash mags in front of the ridiculously large fire. GG and Scarlett gone on particularly well and were sad to say goodbye. Very very relaxing.