camping

Last week on Monday to Wednesday we went camping.  I am not a natural camper or a Bear Grylls type of person, but my daughters and husband love the whole idea.  Especially my youngest daughter  - whose favourite activity is to go to BCF or Anaconda and check out all the equipment.  So I went along with it.  We went to Hosanna Farm just outside of Murwullimbah.  Gorgeous country in the Tweed Valley.  I always have country fantasies about living somewhere like that and look at the houses for sale and imagine what job I will do and where the children would go to school and what kind of pony we would get, and then come crashing back to reality and realise we have it pretty good in Brisbane.

It rained for two and a half days of the three days we were here.  I am super glad we packed the gumboots, and that was the footwear of choice for the whole camping experience.  We played board games and mucked around in the bush and fiddled with the tent setup and ate a lot.  My husband packed a giant pop-up cover which I was scoffing at - it took up way too much room in the car - but I was very glad of it during the camping situation.

We swam and paddled in the dam and patted animals and had wonderful conversations and mostly got on really well as a family.  There was the traditional yelling at the kids during 'packing up the tent' time as they made themselves very scarce down at the creek.  And we didn't climb Mt Warning as we did not realise it was a five hour round trip straight up and down the mountain with a rock climb at the top.  I was not prepared for that.

Camping.  The washing up and unpacking is a killer, but the time together was worth it.

Awesome set-up

self timer photo at the bottom of Mt Warning

she's so big - she can handle water craft independently!

My husband the free form springboard champion

My husband the master packer

having a quiet chat on the way back from the creek after avoiding packing up the tent

a reason why I love Brisbane

There is a big advantage to living in Brisbane.  And it is not the glorious weather in autumn where I can still wear a singlet top at 9pm, or the great parks everywhere, or even it is where all my family and friends (most of them) live....it is GOMA.  The Gallery of Modern Art.

We drove into Southbank this afternoon after school on the last day of the longest term ever to visit the 21st Century Art Exhibition at GOMA.  It was fantastic.  And free.  And amazing. And I can't believe it is accessible to everyone.  And free.  And I feel all arty and creative just by being in that space.

And let's just say it in pictures.

really big slide in the middle of the gallery - and I even had a go!

Gab cracking up at one of the video installations

Our favourite - the room full of purple balloons

Juliet was there - fun!

As lego construction workers Annika and I are better at anything else...

But Chris and Gab rocked

Make a wish, take a wish

Gab's wish

Very fun afternoon followed by fish and chips and a surprise Grandad chat!

pick the most expensive extra curricular thing you can

My girls are allowed to choose two extra curricular things to do each.  Within reason, ability to get there, driving time, accessaries needed and cost.  Dancing fits this criteria well.  So does music.

Gab has chosen horseriding.  She is going through a complete pony phase, and is saving up in her Commenwealth school bank account for a pony.  She begged me to buy her jodhpurs, and is now angling for a helmet and boots.  We negotiated that she can go to the local pony club every three weeks for their kids club - 8 to 12 on a Saturday morning - to play with their elderly well behaved ponies.  She gets to catch the horse, lunge the horse, feed the horse, tack up the horse, brush the horse, pick out the horse's hooves, and ride the horse.  I sometimes feel I am paying the centre for four hours of child labour.  But she loves it.  She comes home all smelly and horsey and talks about the day when she lives in the country and owns a pony.  Ah - the dreams of a suburban girl!

I understand.  I went through a pony phase when I was young, and kept that little dream of learning to ride a horse until I was 27 and had horseriding lessons in Krygyzstan for 6 months.

But I am not sure a pony will fit into our backyard.

heels down, elbows in, back straight - she's a natural

check out that smile!

Gab telling the horse a secret

dancing

I have become a fan of my dancing class at the gym.  I do not look like this.

 I look more like a late thirties woman trying to keep up with the moves.

But tonight I got it!  My fitness level must be increasing, cause I kept up with the class for the whole hour.  And what a class - we covered charleston dancing, 90s boy band dancing, house dancing, 80s video dancing (think Flash dance), jazz moves, and some ballet move that my muscle motor memory went 'I know how to do this!' - my lines were great.

The instructor is a little bit crazy, and there is a group of the cool girls at the front of the class with blonde ponytails and crop tops, and there is a fifty year old guy there in lycra sweat pants and a hoodie - but tonight we felt like a troupe.  I love the drama and the silliness of it.

But as a dancer, I am a great tea drinker.

gardening

Today I spent a long time in the garden pruning and weeding.  I love being outside at my house - the trees and chooks and weeds all create a great ambiance.  When we were looking for a house to buy I viewed about 100 houses, and then found this one.  My description to Chris was 'the trees the big trees everywhere trees big all around it'.  He sensibly asked what the house was like - I said 'um some white three bedroom thing but the trees the trees'.  So we bought a house based mostly on the garden and the trees.  And I have not regretted that decision making process.

I have watched my garden through many seasons and now almost know what works (and what doesn't grow).  And the garden has a wild crazy feel about it, almost like it could slip into jungle at any point and over take the house.

But today I subdued it a bit and gave it a weed, haircut and mulch.  The scent of sugarcane hangs over the house now and I almost imagine we could be living in North Queensland.  The lorikeets have screeched their way to bed and the night crickets chirp softly.

running

I heard a great description on Miranda the other night (by the way funniest show ever) where she said that as an adult you should only run if you are near a train station and look at your watch.  Having agreed with this for nearly all of my life - I have started mild running training in preparation for this.  Well, the 5 km part.

This afternoon I did gruelling laps of the park working up to a slow jog.  I would say to myself  'just to the next tree' 'just to the dead toad' 'just out of slight earshot of the girls as they are having a big fight on the flying fox'  (they were still within eyesight).

I am slightly improving.

The friends I am doing the 5 km run with think we should have a safety word so we can slow down to a walk.  And no-one will be judged on the use of the walk safety word.  Which will probably be 'puff puff puff stop I'm dying let's walk' - that is a good safety phrase I think.

Maybe as the kilos get left behind as I jog along the path it will get easier.  I always like to imagine little molecules of me flying off as I run them away.

Running is not my natural default position.  I think my natural default position is sitting having a cup of tea and a chat and a giggle.  I could definitely do 5 km of that if it was measurable.