Rainy days

Though still lovely and warm, we have been enjoying a week of storms and very changeable weather. Shorts and sundresses are put on and then just as we are about to leave the house it pours with rain. We change into long trousers and cardis and then the sun comes out. We decide to go to the pool and on the way there, there is a huge thunderstorm and we end up in the mall instead. The first day it makes a change from all the constant sunshine. The second day it's slightly less fun to be indoors again and a trip to the hairdressers for Scarlett fills the morning. The third day it's a relief if it happens to be one of Scarlett's nursery days, so someone else can come up with indoors amusements for the day. By the fourth day, Scarlett develops a love for bandannas and we are making spaceships out of an old milk carton, yoghurt pots, the middle of a kitchen roll, a length of foil and several bottle tops and stickers. By the fifth day we are actually encouraging Scarlett to put on a dance show for us and are amazed, and slightly appalled, to discover Michael Flatley appears to be her inspiration. Today we are amusing ourselves taking photos of each other, ourselves, a spaceship and a dance show.

Be afraid

Looks innocent enough, doesn't it? Just a simple pop-up beach tent. What a great idea- and only $20. It pops open straight from the convenient shoulder bag, then you just fill the side pockets with sand to keep it from blowing away and voila - a perfect shady spot for your day at the beach. Everyone's having a lovely day. The sun is shining, the azure waves are lapping gently on the shore, the kids are playing in the water, then stopping to rest for lunch in the shade of the tent. Deer come and feed from your hands. It's a perfect day. Then it's time to pack up to go home. What did the tent instructions say again?. Oh, that's right, simply fold the tent at its widest point, then twist. The tent will naturally turn back into a small circular shape ready to slot straight back into the shoulder bag. Lovely. Off you go then, Rob. Haven't quite managed it? Have another go. That's right, and twist. Here, let me try. It was easy as pie in the shop. Mmm, it doesn't want to twist does it? Where are the instructions again? The instructions! Where are the instructions? What do you mean they're in the car?! Not much use in the car are they, when we're on the beach! I'm not shouting at you. It would just be useful to have the instructions here. There's no need to snatch! You don't have to get so cross. That's not the widest point, what are you doing? You'll break it. Rob, that's not the right way. Give it to me. Christ!. Scarlett, please move away while we're doing this. Look, now Florence has woken up. Will you just go over there and play with the ball please. Rob, there's no point shouting. Shouting at it isn't going to get it into the bag, is it? There's something wrong with it. This is rubbish. Absolutely useless. I'd suggest taking it back to the shop, but it's too big to get in the car unless it's back in the bag. Oh that's right, throw it on the ground. Brilliant idea. Why don't you stamp on it too, while you're about it. I was joking - will you please stop stamping on it! It'll never go back in the bag now. I want a divorce.

If anyone else would like to have a go, you'll find our brand new, used only once, pop-up beach tent next to the bins at the northern end of Balmoral beach. Help yourself.

10 years in Australia

Today is the 10th anniversary of the day Rob and I arrived to live in Australia. Back then Rob had a shaved head and I sported a short spiky bleached thing. We had just finished 4 months travelling across the US, the Cook Islands and New Zealand, and carried no more than a backpack each. At the time we knew we were here for the Millenium and the Sydney Olympics (both staggeringly memorable events) but I'm not sure we knew we'd still be sitting here 10 years on. We've lived in 6 different houses, had 4 different jobs - Rob 9 years at IBM and now at QBE, me at New Woman and the The Sydney Morning Herald. We've managed trips to San Francisco, New York, Connecticut, England, Scotland, Italy, Cape Town, New Caledonia, Bali, Lombok, Cambodia, Vietnam, New Zealand, some more than once or twice. We've learned to sail and sailed ourselves around the Whitsundays twice, we've dived on the Great Barrier Reef, driven up and down the east coast of Australia, finding a favourite beach and town along the way and popped to the big red centre to look at the rock. We've paid high taxes, but discovered the hard way they were taxes worth paying, as we've seen inside more hospital rooms that anyone should in a lifetime and came out not just alive but highly impressed with the level of care. We found property here is an expensive as London, which is why winning the lottery forms most of our long-term financial plan. We've eaten amazing food, drunk fine wine and been invited to some brilliant parties. We've made fantastic friends and more than doubled our circle thanks to many of us having children around the same time. And best of all we have produced two beautiful dinky di Aussies of our own, born in the same hospital room, who couldn't love each other more than we love them, and who are beach-loving, water babies. Here's to the next 10 years, may they be as happy and lucky.

It ain't over till it's over...

And it was over at 7am on Sunday morning. I even got up at 5am to watch the game and it was worth it to see Percy being pushed over the barrier into the cameraman. We are no longer the world champions. There, Rob. I said it.

We started the week at a spectacular 10-course French/Japanese wine-matched dinner at Sushi-e. One of a programme of special dinners planned as part of Good Food Month. We had a brilliant night with James and Amelia, sans children, that made me feel young again. It was a proper late night with too many cocktails, too much champagne and too much wine, lots of laughs and good conversation. Well, as good as conversation can be after all that. On Saturday night after a hot day at the pool, Melissa and Larry, Giles and Megan came over, with assorted children, for take out pizza and gelato. Megan and Giles's kids are 6 and 8 and spent the evening happily entertaining Scarlett and Lotus while the growns sat around catching up. We also had a short period of children's entertainment where the best joke, song and acrobatics performances were fiercely competed for. Scarlett and I did our death-defying balancing act. Talk about feel old again. I remember when I was the kids' entertainment at my parents' parties. The purchase of a badminton set, boules, mini golf, frisbee and boomerang, all for $15, also guaranteed children were very much taken care of for the evening.

On Sunday, with the mercury climbing to 30 degrees we set out for Bondi, the famous beach/car park. It was packed and is not a place we would normally head to on a weekend but our mates Kate and Bill, who moved back to Perth a couple of years ago, were in town for the weekend for a wedding, and Bondi is their old stomping ground. From there we hit the pool to cool off, Flo had her first swim of the season and we noticed how very long limbed Scarlett is. All this activity was enough to take my mind off the rugby. Four more years, boys. Four more years.

Let's go England, let's go

I feel so guilty that being English I always expect we will lose. But in the words of, oh that's right, me 'Of course we are the world champions'. It's much better that way because then we are amazed and thrilled in equal part. The Aussies have quite a different take on all forms of competitive sport from kids cricket to professional rugby - you play to win and if you don't win, you should be taken into the street and flogged. Not many people realise that since losing to England last week the entire Wallabies squad has been executed.

The hardest part about all this victory, is that it's all happening in the middle of the night here. In 2003, the World Cup was held right here so we could watch all the games live. This time around I have to wait until morning to read results on line or wait for Rob to come in from a night shift and guess from the look on is face who has won. Florence started celebrating as soon as her Weetbix was finished. Scarlett watched The Wiggles.

While Jonny was kicking us into the final I was sleeping off the several champagnes I slurped in honour of my friend Jacqui's 40th last night. Having missed out on the celebrations for Moira's, Fraser's, Liz's and Sarah's this year, it was nice to join in at last. It was a great party, held at Jacqui's parents lovely north shore house. I got to catch up with my friends from work I haven't seen for months and by the sound of it, I couldn't have timed my maternity leave better. The last round of redundancies have left the paper understaffed and morale is low it would seem.

October is Good Food Month in Sydney so last Wednesday we squashed children into prams and jumped on the tram into the city for the Night Noodle Markets, meeting up with Julia and Ella and Uncle Brett. It's a top night, with about 50 fantastic south-east Asian food stalls in a lantern lit park, DJs, a bar and dance floor.

Anyway, to the final - c'mon England - show us your tackle.

Wigstock Oct 2007

Wigstock is here again. And they're getting younger, people.

Here we see Scarlett modelling a cool '70s style, reminiscent of a young Shaft. Not to miss out on the action, Florence wrestles for control of the hairpiece to create her version of the climatic scene from Hair.

Oh Jonny....

Jonny, Jonny, Jonny, Jonny Wilkinson. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Once again, England don't get to play the All Blacks. Why is that again, Rob?
Oh, that's right because, they got kicked out last night. It's like 2003 all over again.

In other news, we had a blast from the past this week when Rob's old mate from NZ and later London, Darryn Cherry turned up in Sydney for a night. I ended up missing him completely as he arrived at our house for a drink way passed my bedtime, but Rob stayed up until the early hours with Darryn and girlfriend Rachel, reminiscing about happy days in NZ and London. Here they are checking in on a sleepy Scarlett.

After a week of fabulous weather, with some days in the low 30s, we invited mates Sam and Christy and Melissa and Larry over for a lunch in the garden alongwith assorted children. A sudden change in the weather sent us all indoors, grabbing plates and wine glasses as we went. It seems we fared well as on the harbour boats were blown off moorings and skiffs were overturned. Today it's beautiful again.

Now Florence is sitting up, it's opened up a whole new world for both Flo and Scarlett and they have started doing things together. Flo's favourite thing is to be plonked on a rug with a box of lego between her knees. Scarlett sits with her and builds stuff while Flo looks on adoringly. Scarlett has also taken to feeding her in her highchair. We'll have her babysitting soon.

The Cycling Duthies

When we lived in London, Rob and I cycled everywhere, arriving at work, dinners and parties almost always dressed in bike shorts. We also notched up a few hundred miles cycling from London to Brighton, Oxford, Southend and Cambridge - the latter ride the scene of the famous stitches in the back of the ambulance story. We also chucked our bikes on the plane to Madrid and cycled around a sizeable area of central Spain during an August heat wave. Despite being a much smaller city, Sydney is not as bike friendly as London, bike paths stop abruptly or suddenly become part of the freeway. I only started cycling to work again when we moved to Leichhardt and it was mostly bike path door to door. Once Scarlett came along, my bike stood idly by, until I finally left it out in the back laneway for someone to take. It was easier to run or walk with the 3-wheeler pram for exercise and so Scarlett could sleep. Suddenly, I find it is 3 and half years since I have ridden a bike. Yesterday, inspired by the warmer weather and Flo's newfound ability to sit, we hit the bike shop and left with two new bikes fitted with bike seats for the girls. Scarlett's seat sits on the back of Rob's bike and Flo's sits in front of me. This morning was glorious and we headed off for a big ride around the bays near where we live. Almost the whole ride is through inter-connecting parks that run down to the water or purpose built bike paths off the road. We had a blast, Flo loved it, squeaking away as we went, checking everything out in her cute little helmet and shades and Scarlett loves signalling for turns. We all arrived home extremely content, if a little sore in the urals. I can see the purchase of a bike rack in the not too distant future so we can drive to bigger parks further afield. Look out for future pics of our newly re-formed buns of steel.

Set adrift on memory bliss

Flo and the dancing donkey = total bemusement.

Flo and the camera = can I eat that?

The Mother-in-law

She's back - Barb is back.The smokiest, scariest, wheesiest Grandmother ever. That can only mean one thing - Rob is back on the fags. Oh and also, a lovely carer also on hand to watch the kids, fold the washing, play football, read books, monitor kids in the bath, give cuddles and kisses. etc etc. Awful.

Scarlett has become the epitome of the perfect older sister. Does anyone, apart from my sister and I, know the words to 'Sisters' from the movie "White Christmas' as in 'there were never such devoted sisters'. Well, Scarlett has clearly learned the words, or at least the principles, that Maria and I have shared over the years - God help the Mister etc -. here she is hanging on to Flo as if her life depended on it, in a shot not disimilar to one my Dad took of Maria and I when we were kids. Also Flo has finally mastered sitting up by herself, which can only mean one thing - soon she'll be crawling. Ahhh , that's why people like babies - 6 months of no movement. Also, Scarlett and Flo with their Yia Yia, Barb, who leaves tomorrow after another lovely week, on her way back to NZ.

xx

Spring is springing

Three weeks into Spring and we're finally getting some good outdoor weather. Scarlett and I had a great day at the beach last week with Julia and Ella, a lovely Saturday afternoon lunch in the garden with James and Amelia and a gorgeous day at Balmoral yesterday with Rob's mum Barb, who is staying with us for a week on her way back to NZ from London. She and Scarlett are sharing a room which Scarlett loves. I love it too because it is so light in the mornings now that Scarlett is waking earlier than normal and instead of coming in to my room and bothering me she chatters away to Barb. Can't wait until the clocks change as I have been awake at 5am two mornings in a row now. If the light doesn't wake me then the birds do. We have huge cockatoos, the size of cats, that wake early too and fly from the trees in front of house to the large fir trees behind, sqauwking as they go, the whole tree swaying violently when they land. Nothing a shotgun couldn't fix.

Strewth - she's an Aussie!

I had to call in Matron with the smelling salts to revive me this week upon hearing my eldest daughter utter the words 'G'day'. "Christ, Sheila," I thought "this little bleeder's a right ocker Aussie'. Short of taking her over my knee for a sound thrashing and washing her mouth out with soap to remove all signs of her having been born in Australia, I remembered she is in fact an Australian and it's her birth right to speak that rubbish. I think she's been spending too much time with our mate Paul who really does say things like 'she runs as fast as a roo with its arse on fire'*. To try and turn her back to a little bit of England, we went to the zoo and headed straight for the bit that most resembled the old country - the farm yard section. We were lucky enough to arrive just as the zoo keeper was coming out to feed all the animals. Those who know me well will know my lifelong affection for sheep, so even though the feeding time is really for the kids, I was happy to let Scarlett take the limelight when it came to feeding the chickens and the turkeys and collecting the eggs, but I was right in there pushing the rugrats out of the way when it came to feeding a lamb from a bottle. Note, that in this photo, I am the only adult in a queue of children waiting to feed the lamb. After all that, a few run throughs of 'the rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain' and an intensive four hours of Eastenders episodes when Angie and Den were running The Vic, I think we've got our girl back batting for our side. Phew, it was close. After our disastrous appearance in the Rugby World Cup so far, I need all the poms I can find here. Rob has spent the last 4 years stewing over the fact that England are the world champions, stating repeatedly, and without a hint of irony, of the All Blacks, and I quote "England only won because they never got to play the All Blacks' to which I always reply 'that's right, because you were knocked out in the semi-finals'. He is now loving England's dismal performance. I also have to contend with the entire population of Australia saying "England only won because Jonny Wilkinson kicked that drop goal' as if that isn't part of the rules. You're allowed to kick a drop goal to win!! Anyway, as long as France or Australia don't win I'll be happy.

* Quite fast.

Fortress Sydney

This week Sydney hosts the APEC conference (Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation) so world leaders including those from Japan, China, New Zealand and, of course, the US are in town. Because Bush is among them a large part of downtown Sydney has been forced into lockdown with the erection of a huge security fence wrapped around the Opera House (where the conference is being held), Circular Quay and other central locations. Sydneysiders are being actively encouraged to leave the city. It seems ridiculous that the conference is not being held in Canberra, after all it is the capital of Australia and where the federal parliament is, and that such over the top security should be required. Friday is now an APEC public holiday. Good grief.

Welcome home

Rob came home on Sunday morning (Father's Day here) after five days in New Zealand. He had jumped on a plane to Auckland on Tuesday, after learning that his Dad's wife Doreen had died last Saturday. Rob's brother Craig and sister Catherine also made their way to Keri Keri for the funeral on Thursday. While a very sad event, Rob said it was great to spend time with his family and with old familiar family friends who also made the journey up to the beautiful Bay of Islands region where Ian and Doreen have lived for many years. As well as shopping for a suitcase full of NZ- themed gifts for me and the girls - an NZ-shaped mirror, NZ-shaped canape dishes, toy kiwi, mud from Rotorua etc - he also found time to pop to the local barber in Keri Keri for a trim. We celebrated Rob's return with a whole salmon cooked on the BBQ and a Father's Day lunch with our old friends and neighbours from Leichhardt Rob and Freya, and Dave and George.

The Fete

Scarlett has been badgering me to go to the local fete ever since I foolishly mentioned seeing the words 'jumping castle' and 'face painting' on one of the flyers stuck on lamp posts in our street. I may also have blurted out that the flyer mentioned that Tim from children's supergroup Hi-5 would be making a personal appearance. Well, Saturday was the big day and with Rob tucked up in bed sleeping off his night shift, I set off with Florence in the pram and Scarlett running eagerly alongside. We got about 4cm into the fete before Scarlett spotted the face painting stall. A full face butterfly design later, she then saw the jumping castle and ferris wheel AT THE SAME TIME. Fever pitch excitement ensued, much jumping, yelping etc. She seemed genuinely oblivious to the fact that the whole point of going to a fete is to buy a big iced cake baked by a local jolly fat lady and possibly some jam and chutney. At 11am, I persuaded her to come off the ferris wheel with the promise of a hot dog, so I could shovel a mixture of pumpkin, sweet potato and broccoli into Florence. Then - quelle horreur!! - we discovered Tim from Hi-5 was arriving at midday, right at the time we would be taking Florence home for her lunchtime kip. Using my supermum powers I was able to rush us all home, throw Florence into her cot, ditch the pram and leg it back to the fete with Scarlett. When you are 3 or 4 or even 5, meeting Tim from Hi-5 is the pre-school equivilant to, say, George Michael turning up at your house as the partner of one of your dinner party guests (assuming that is he was able to make the journey without falling asleep at any traffic lights on the way). The crowd went wild when Tim appeared announcing he would be judging a dancing competition and that prizes would be awarded to the best dancers. As I shoved Scarlett to the front in the manner of a pushy stage mother (think Terri Shields or Jodie Foster's mum), she turned to me and said "I'm not dancing. I don't like Tim'. And that was that.

The Simpsons

Here are pictures of Rob, Scarlett, Florence and I and our cat Pam if we were in The Simpsons. Look out for us at http://www.simpsonsmovie.com/main.html?cid=us