Potted History

Hello! How are you? The Happy Writing Book said to write drivel so here I am! It's been a while. Here's a potted history of what I've been up to. 

December 2022

We set off on one of our infamous road trips to the most fascinating of places. So fascinating in fact, that I have forgotten exactly which country town it was. Something beginning with B? That narrows it down I'm sure. The motel we stayed at was not exactly five star. Unlike all the other luxury motels we stay in. Snort. At least there was a lovely park nearby.

 

 

Side note: turns out it was Armidale. Oops. Sorry Armidale. You are very nice with lots of pretty churches. See below. 

On Christmas Day we drove and drove past tiny towns. Emmaville. Deepwater. Through shop lined desolate streets. Past an old post office, court house, Chinese restaurants and a bakery all brandishing CLOSED signs. Then we stopped at the Mother Of Ducks Lagoon. 

The ducks must have been over the hill and faraway. We only saw butterflies. Plus some raucous youths reveling in their backyard. They were definitely in the  Christmas spirit. Did I mention it was Christmas day? 

We drove to a park, pulled up under some trees and ate slapped together roast chook sandwiches. Christmas lunch sorted! A four wheel drive pulled up nearby. A man alighted with a dog. He unhooked his bike from the back and whizzed around the park, the dog bounding behind him. The breeze caressed us. We drank sour lukewarm wine from plastic cups and didn't care.
Mickey Blue Eyes meandered down to the river, returning with a grim expression.  

"I can only say one thing about the dude with the dog - he's an asshole," he said. 

Apparently the dude had been swearing at the dog and yanked him by the neck back into the vehicle. It was at this point that I wondered if you could arrested for kidnapping a dog. But they were gone before I could save him,  and I really hope Timmy is OK. I mean, I don't know if that's his real name, he just reminded me of Timmy from The Famous Five so I shall think of him as such. This also allows me to believe he escaped from Mr Asshole and is safely back with George and the gang.

We checked in to our (pleasant this time) motel in Tenterfield. The WiFi wasn't great however, so we watched movies old school style on the TV attached to the wall. Mrs Doubtfire, Shrek and Beethoven. It was kinda nice and wholesome for a change. Like reverting back to ye olde days of childhood. You know? 

The next day Mr 14 had a mission.  A slushee*. Or is it slurpee?

We set off on another expedition. Winding roads, old houses, shops still screaming SHUT. I had a snooze** and when I woke up we had crossed the border into Queensland. Once again there were no op shops but I did stroll around a few 'junk' shops. Kitsch and surplus Christmas decorations 50% off! No thanks. I didn't even bother putting my tree up because we were going away. 

Driving again. We pass a town called Ballandean and find a servo that has a bakery attached. Coffee and cakies sound inviting. A slushee remains elusive. Surely Queensland in summer is the prime market for such an item? 

There was an elderly couple at the next table, the husband buried behind an expansive Sydney Morning Herald. Not for the first time I puzzled over how people managed to read those things back in the day on trains and tiny Cafe tables. But they did! 

The lady had a tote bag with the slogan:

It's not hoarding if it's books. 

I suspected we had a lot in common because I have a tote bag that says: 

My workout is reading in bed until my arms hurt.

But I am not someone who can insert themselves into a conversation so I smiled and said nothing. 

(Honestly, how do people do it? I legit want tips!)

Our next stop was Girraween National Park. It was warm but not unbearable. We had a bit of a bush walk and took some photos. See below. 

On the way back we had milkshakes at a lovely chocolate place I've forgotten the name of.

Side note: It was Heavenly Chocolates. 

From Tenterfield we made our way to Inverell. There were no op shops open which was extremely sad and tragic. Serendipity smiled upon me in the form of a second hand book and record store. Blissful browsing ensued and I emerged with three books. A dismal effort indeed for this bibliophile. The fact that as of this writing I have only read one out of three is utterly inconsequential. Three is an unacceptable uneven number and in future book shopping endeavours I will be rounding it up to a solid dozen. So yeah, 20 books are now on their way...

Back to Inverell.

The next day Mickey Blue Eyes dropped me off in town and I had a marvellous time browsing in the Legacy Op Shop and a few other dollar shops. Then a quick dash to the bakery because country town bakeries are the best! There were a few pub and club meals along the way and before you know it we were homeward bound. The dogs were delighted to greet us. They were well looked after by Mr 21 and 19 but missed their regular car trips to the park! 

January was also my birthday month. In the tradition of class and elegance you would expect from us we celebrated with a meal at the RSL.

  

January also included a fun girls day out in Umina. Cocktails and fish tacos FTW! 

February 

Ella Trixie Bella had her birthday in February. She has been a part of the family for over a year now. We caught up with some mates at the Ettamogah Pub. It was frightfully expensive and the food was terrible but it was lovely to catch up with everyone. We discovered that our friends were planning a trip to Japan. The closest Mickey Blue Eyes and I will get to Japan is visiting the Japanese gardens at Nurragingy Reserve. Practically the same thing if you think about it. Sniff. 

Well, at least I have learnt a new skill even if that skill is gaslighting myself. Winning!

March 

March meant birthday wishes for Mr now 19 and more of Mickey Blue Eyes' Sunday drives to the Blue Mountains and the beach. Gotta mix it up a bit. 

April 

In April I went to Wagga Wagga and Tumut with my mum. Highlights were op shops (duh) and pub lunches practically every day!

May

May was a mundane uneventful month. I did receive a parcel from my beautiful friend Posski and, oh my stars! She sent me some Bewitched leggings! I love them but the nose twitching doesn't seem to be working. Probably a good thing. I reckon if I were a witch I'd be more of an aunt Clara or Esmarelda type than Samantha or Endora. Though I do plan on being called Grandmama should the situation ever occur. 

June 

Whoah. Mid year already! Mind. Blown.
I am busy with work, working a few extra days here and there. Mr 21 and 19 are now gainfully employed. Mr 14 is in year 9. Chandler and Ella are adorable. Mickey Blue Eyes made me lunch AND dinner the other day so I reckon I'll keep him.

Sunday before last weekend I met up with Denyse from Denyse Whelan blogs for cakies and coffee for the first time! It was lovely to meet a bloggy friend in person. 

July and August will mean more birthdays. And of course, cake! 

Hopefully another offbeat adventure will be on the horizon at the end of the year. That's about it for now. So as Mickey Blue Eyes likes to say: Take it easy and I'll catch up with you later! 

Until next time,

Ness 

PS 

*He got a slushee! Slurpee? Still don't know, but he got one eventually!

**Mickey Blue was driving obviously!  

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My only goal for 2016

2016 has been a challenging year. I kicked off the year with a lovely little trip down chemotherapy lane. I'm sure most of you know that I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer in December 2015. So the first few months of this year were dedicated to getting through treatment. My only goal was to get to the end with my sanity (relatively) in check. Mission accomplished! Well, I do have moments of madness, but mostly everything is fine now.  

Setting goals

But here's a shocking confession: I've never been a person who sets goals and ticks off lists. I've just kind of drifted through life.

I know that probably comes as a huge surprise. OK, not really. It's totally obvious. This blog alone is a dead giveaway. If I didn't have the prompt and link-up every week I'd probably never update this blog. Even so it's ad hoc and all over the place.

I don't have any grand plan for this space, either to monetise or have x amount of readers by December. I just plan to plod on talking to myself and writing and confessing whatever I like, whenever I like. You're welcome.

Connecting to goals or values

This is a confronting or kind of interesting topic for me. I don't really know how to explain it. I don't seem to even know my own mind. That doesn't even make sense. For instance, we know that we eventually want to move, but even if the time was right and we could start making plans and taking action to do exactly that, I have no idea in hell where I want to move to or live.

It's quite strange. Most people would know where their dream address would be. Even it was unattainable unless they won the lottery or robbed a bank or something, they would still have somewhere in mind. I have no idea. Perhaps I just don't cope with change so I'm resisting it? It's just another strange insight to the nutty old world of Ness.

It's the same as connecting to your values. What do I truly value? I would say that I value health and family, yet I still struggle to live in accordance with those values all the time. I'm supposed to be a Weight Witches life time member, but I must confess I've been a very bad witch recently. Oops.

I still keep coming back to this value (health) or goal, so that's the main thing.


A light bulb moment or epiphany

You'd expect that having had a cancer diagnosis would lead to some sort of illuminating moment of utter clarity. I'd know exactly what I want to do with the rest of my life. I'd sit down and write a list of goals and get on with ticking them off like a boss.

No such thing has happened for me. It's weird. It's more a feeling of just wanting more of the mundane. When you have to spend months schlepping off to doctor's appointments all you want is to get back to 'normal'. Suddenly the idea of just doing the grocery shopping or school pick up seems appealing. I didn't want to be a cancer patient, I just wanted to be normal again. And I wouldn't mind having a full head of hair. Related: it is growing back. It's all grey and curly. I look like a lovely, placid sheep. Nice.


A new kind of normal


So here I am, finished with treatment. Now I go on to six-monthly check-ups. The first of which is coming up very quickly in late August/early September. It's a new kind of normal.

And that is my only big goal for 2016 and every other year. Staying boring and normal. You can never under estimate how wonderful 'boring' is. 

The only other goal I had was to go on a holiday with my family. Related: we will be headed to the sunny Gold Coast (via Coffs Harbour) by the time you're reading this! Hopefully we can relax and thaw out for a bit. 



So here's to a boring rest of 2016! Cheers! 

Linking up for I Must Confess

What are your goals for 2016?

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The Bogan And The Not So Beautiful Go To Budgewoi

Happy New Year, all you lovely people! Yes, I'm aware that it's currently February so I probably should have managed this salutation a tad earlier. Oops.

I've been missing from this space for a while. I'm not sure I can string a coherent sentence together. I seem to have lost my blojo. Meaning: blogging mojo. Possibly because I never even had one in the first place. Sigh. I just started to feel like I was boring myself with this thing so I came to the logical conclusion that if I was bored writing it, readers must be bored too and it was time to take a break. Plus, you know me. Always super busy eating all the cake doing all the things.

Meanwhile, certain things have been happening among some of our acquaintances and old friends which I won't go into because that is their stuff. Suffice to say that it all just reiterates the fact that life is short, life is a lottery and frankly, pretty fucking unfair at times so you had better do the things that make you happy. Therefore, if laughing at myself with this ridonkulous little blog and using words like ridonkulous which isn't even word makes me (or anyone else) giggle, then dammit, I'd better keep doing it. Those who are bored by my banal musings can easily click away. Or not click at all as the case may be.

We've been busy little bogans. Or not so little bogans, in my case. Nope, haven't managed to go cold turkey on the cakies. I am exercising, so that's something. Of course the exercise would be much more beneficial if I could quit the cakes but you get that.

Christmas was a subdued affair. We spent the day at home eating a whole lot of food. Because nobody ever does that and we like to be different. Cutting edge and all that.  The next day we went to my brother and sister-in-law's place and ate even more food. Might as well be consistent with certain things.

New Year's Eve and day seemed like just another day. Except it was suddenly another year. I had a lovely, child free (Grandma to the rescue!) lunch out with friends to celebrate mine and my friend Kim's birthdays before packing our bags for yet another bogan road trip. This time we headed to the Central Coast which is basically similar to Boganville but with a beach. We figured we may as well keep things classy.

During the hour long drive, the boys pondered over whether the NSW Central Coast town of Budgewoi is pronounced Budgie Woi or Budge Woi. Apparently the locals call it Budgie. The Woi is optional. It was good to see that the boys take after their mother, always wanting to know the answers to important questions.

Arriving at our cabin, I was already a lovely rosy hue of pink despite slathering myself with five hundred layers of 50 plus sunscreen and wearing long sleeves. This phenomenon continued for the duration of the stay if I so much as ventured outdoors for even a nano-second. If there was ever a person who could be sunburned indoors during a blizzard, I'm sure it would be me.

Nevertheless, I did bravely head to the beach. Once. Shut up. It's torture for us Rangas! I'm not so sure I love a sunburned country. Or being sunburned in this sunburned country, anyway.  You know what I mean. If you don't, then just pretend you do. We're good? Okay, to the next thing. I also celebrated my 43rd birthday while there, when Micky Blue Eyes and the boys presented me with an overwhelming gift. Wait for it:

A card.

They even signed it and everything.

Grounds for divorce?

That evening we sauntered down to the local pub which felt more like a sauna. Haven't the owners heard of air conditioning?

Once there, we ordered some burgers with chips and bangers and mash for Mr 9 (typical classy bogan fare) for which we clearly and politely requested that the gravy be served on the side. Not a particularly burdensome or difficult request. However, the dish arrived smothered in gravy which Mr 9 loathes but Mr 12 loves, hence ordering it 'on the side'. Consequently, Micky Blue Eyes took it back only to endure the disgruntled chef scowling and slamming things. I can only pray that  the resulting gravy free dish that reappeared didn't have something worse in it. Yikes. We scored some cakies at a bakery on the way back to make up for that lacklustre culinary experience. Besides, it was my birthday. Shut up.

The boys struck up a friendship with some other kids in the next cabin and enjoyed the park's movie nights replete with microwaved popcorn.

The real highlight of the trip came when we enjoyed lunch at Toukley RSL before hitting the local Vinnies and Salvo's stores. It's hard work being a Professional Bogan, people. You have to be seen in all the right places.

Some days later we were back in Boganville, where intense preparations began to have Mr 12 ready to start High School. We had to purchase an Ipad as they use those instead of text books and we didn't already own one. Maybe one of these days I'll also get an Iphone and finally catch up with 2014. Or at least 2007. Or something. Ahem.

Hair cuts were the next item on the agenda. Those completed, I took the boys home where Mr 12 kept scratching furiously. Finally, Micky Blue Eyes turned to me and uttered the dreaded 'N' word.

"Do you think he might have nits?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"It could be just dandruff," I replied hopefully.

Wrong.

An examination of his head proved otherwise. Up until this point we had managed 12 glorious nit-free years. On the plus side, at least this now clarifies or emphasises our bogan status. SO proud. Okay, not really...

We frantically treated all of our hair and washed all bed linen. This is not what you want just days before school returns!

Thankfully, the little buggers seem to have disappeared and Mr 12 made it to his first three days of High School. His verdict? Too easy. We shall see, dear. Especially once homework, assignments and essays start rolling in.  Also, he was super excited when he had a double period of PE on Thursday. This makes me rather concerned that he may not even really be my child at all. To say I was never excited about PE during High School could be the understatement of the century.

On Monday Mr 5 officially starts Kindergarten. I won't cry. No way. Not me. I might have something in my eye. Sniff. I should be celebrating. After all, doesn't this mean I will suddenly, magically have all this extra time on my hands to do important things?  Like update this blog more frequently!

BOOM! Be warned.

Stayed tuned for the next exciting episode of Days Of Our Bogan Lives....

What's been happening in your World?

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Not Another Bogan Holiday

We finally touched down at Sunshine Coast Airport after our dangerous mission, exhausted but relieved.  I braced myself for the next dilemma. Finding our accommodation. I may have mentioned that I cannot read maps. 

First of all we had to pick up our car, which wasn't located at the airport. We called and they arranged to pick us up. Since there were five of us I had to wait while Micky Blue Eyes took the boys back to their office to organise the paperwork. 

Pacing backwards and forwards in the intense sun, I briefly toyed with the absurd notion of heading back into the airport to jump on the next flight to Melbourne to surprise an online friend.  I could deal with the resulting divorce later. Didn't do it, dammit.  For I was about to become more stressed. I do not fear flying. I do fear maps. With good reason.

We circled around various areas in search of our accommodation, bewildered. It  was supposed to be on the Esplanade. Should be simple, right? Wrong. There appeared to be more than one Esplanade. We were on the wrong one. Which was fortunate because it was  looking a bit dodgy.  Eventually we found the place only to be directed to an even more dodgy car park underneath the apartments with an extremely tight narrow space. We all waited with bated breath as Mick backed in.  Being a hire car, we were very cautious about procuring even the slightest scratch.

The next morning I staggered out of bed feeling like a zombie and saw all of these demented fit, energetic people jogging up and down the esplanade. Bugger that. These bogans were headed for the beach however.  At which point, I discovered I'd forgotten to pack my bikini. Possibly due to the fact that I've never owned one in my life ever. Fortunately, as I'd forgotten to have the lipo-suction, boob lift, tummy tuck, spay tan, waxing extravaganza which would be required for me to be seen dead in one. So I settled for the daily routine of dousing myself in approximately 675 layers of 30 plus sunblock, putting on boardies and a t-shirt and being done with it.

Day two meant a trip to Australia Zoo. A most entertaining day out if you enjoy becoming bankrupt (crikey, it's expensive) while melting in excruciating heat that would make the 7th circle of hell seem like the arctic. You know, with a few animals thrown in for good measure. Leaving there, we travelled further afield to a dairy farm. There were quite a ridiculous number of cows. We just missed the actual tour which would have included being able to milk the bovine beasts. This meant we could just skip to the best part. Tasting. Ice cream. Yum!

Another outing involved a cruise on the canal gawking at the multi-million dollar mansions that most likely feature walk in closets the size of our entire bogan box.  One was the three million dollar home purchased by Steve and Terri Irwin, which Terri now apparently just uses as a holiday home. Reportedly Russell Crowe had recently been staying there. This may explain why, when, a few days later we dropped into a bakery for a cakie fix, we discovered Russell Crowe had been there just the week before.

As we drifted past we also saw the boat which Steve Irwin supposedly died on, The Croc One, parked outside the mansion. Frankly, at this point I couldn't be bothered moving to take a photo and neither could Mr11 apparently. He managed to get this half arsed shot as we sailed past.  Seriously I do not know where that child gets his lazy tendencies from. Ahem.

Our next destination was Hervey Bay where we were staying at a place called The Coconut Palms. A more appropriate name would have been The Inconvenient Poles. There were poles a plenty. You were meant to park in between them. Just when you thought you'd spotted every pole there was yet another pole seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Yep, you guessed it. The inevitable happened. Mick hit a pole when reversing into our spot. Luckily he'd taken insurance so we were covered but it was still a proverbial pain the posterior.

We spent most of the time in Hervey Bay visiting Mick's sister. I celebrated my birthday there.  42 was just another number and not the enlightening experience I had hoped. Sigh. My sister-in-law was kind enough to give me a gift of various goodies, including chocolates, mascara, sun block and an intensive anti-wrinkle moisturiser. But I choose not to take offence at the latter. She just gave them to me because she works in a pharmacy, so she gets her hands on this stuff easily, right?

Leaving Hervey Bay, we headed back to Coolum. The most exciting thing that happened there was that Micky Blue Eyes took the boys to Brisbane to see a soccer game at Suncorp Stadium, so consequently I had some quiet time. Yes, that is exciting. Shut up. On the last day there we went for a drive to Eumundi. Spotting a bakery/cafe, we decided coffee and cakies would be most welcome and pulled up in front of the establishment. At which point, a woman promptly appeared and shut the doors to close up, glaring at us she did so, as if appalled at the idea of any bogan customers. Hmph. I should have stomped up to her huffily a la Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman exclaiming "You just shut your door on us! Big mistake, HUGE mistake, you just missed out on business from the Cakie Queen! You would have at least trippled your daily profits! And we went to the same bakery as RUSSELL CROWE, so yours isn't even good enough for us!! So ner!"

Driving on we ended up at Noosa Heads, where obviously we were not about to attempt to enter any of the posh restaurants lining the street, and being glared at yet again like the pathetic (but hungry) bogans we were (or are). Instead we ended up in a deserted food court where the only shop open was a kebab place so we feasted on kebabs and hot chips. Classy. Hunger pangs satisfied, we headed to the beach. We sat down while the boys frolicked on the sand. It was a most beautiful scene, with the sun beginning to set lazily over the ocean, but I am not very good at descriptions (or photography) so you'll just have to imagine it.

There were many people and sand castles dotting the beach, including a most impressive one, resembling an Indian Temple. Obviously it had been painstakingly created by some nearby Indian men.  As we sat admiring it, Mr4 barrelled towards it. Cringing, I tensed as the inevitable happened before I could move to stop him and he pounced on it, destroying it immediately. The Indian men looked on, but luckily did not comment. It was a good time to leave.

Twenty four hours later, we were back in Boganville where we belong. Until another bogan holiday.

Linking up with The Lounge which is being hosted this week by Rachel from The Very Inappropriate Blog.

Do you think that woman in the bakery/cafe was a snooty bitch, or do you run for cover when you see bogans coming too?

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