Telling Stories, Making Stories

I am pretty convinced I am a story teller.

But I am not.

I am a story maker.

This was recently put into perspective for me by my little Miss.

"Mum; I love weekends with you because we DO things"

Now; the things we do, I feel are in no way extraordinary, but for Miss and JD it seems they are.

Every weekend they spend with the Mr and I, we try to find new and different FREE adventures to go on. We strap on our shoes, pack a picnic, grab a blanket and off we go.
We discover our natural surroundings as we explore National Parks, we attend free community music festivals, we take our picnic lunches to parks and to the river and to the sea, we swim and run and play.

We return home with our photo's and our stories and they are excited to return to school and tell their stories as "news"

Our most recent story was made when we attended the "Surfing the Coldstream" Festival in Yamba, NSW. This story sounds like local music, it looks bright and colourful, it tasted like sno-cones and it smelt like circus folk.

Making stories is the greatest thing i can do as a parent, and i feel that there are plenty more to come.

Gazbus Adventures Part 2

I love running away on weekends with my Mr, and this weekend is no different.

Friday afternoon we packed the van and for something different headed South. 

Stopping for an overnight stay in a cute little yurt at Valla Beach and an "interesting" meal at the Valla Tavern which involved, inter-family domestics, screaming kids and a beautiful meal,  the Mr says it was teh BEST $7 steaks he's ever had.

Saturday we headed South again starting out day with breakfast at the Boatshed Cafe at Nambucca Heads, a delicious GIANT pancake for me and  eggs Benedict for the Mr.

We put our tourist on and explored the history of Trial Bay Gaol, and walked the Monument walking track to watch whales followed by lunch at the Seabreeze Hotel.

Adventures in the Gazbus Part 1

We have had a busy week.
Work has been hectic.
The Mr had 2 gigs.
But on Wednesday he bought a new van aka The Gazbus, replacing the Garavan.

This called for a celebratory road trip.
We headed off down the Pacific Highway on Friday evening with a plan to see a band and
and spend the night with our sweet friend Gemma Grace.
The band was average and we were home sharing cups of tea, slice and laughs before 10.30pm.
We settled in and snuggled up on the futon in Miss Gemma's spare room.

We woke late Saturday morning, to glorious sunshine blazing through the matchstick blinds.
Slow lazy weekends are just my favourite.
Eventually motivated enough by our growling bellies we started our day.
Miss Gemma had left us a love note, with several instructions and a suggestion for breakfast.

We headed to Beachwood Cafe for the most divine Dutch Pancakes and Scrambled Eggs.
Owner Sevtap was serving fresh squeezed mandarin juice.....made from mandarin's that Gemma had delivered directly from Mo'Ville!

We wandered the streets and them meandered home, taking the scenic route via the ferry.
Such an indulgent Saturday Morning, I feel revived.

                                        

Condensation - Are you breathing heavy ?

                                        

Dutch Pancakes, Scrambled Eggs, Coffee and Poppies = Beachwood Bliss

Love is finding a person that is your kind of crazy.

From Gosine to Mr O'Ceirin

The Grafton Cup, it's more than just a day at the races.
It's an institution, it's a tradition.

I can recall as a youngster,  that there were a  few occasions that my mother would dress my brother and I in our very best and take us along to the running of the Cup.
Back then, things were civilised, Ladies dressed like ladies and Gents wore suits and ties and carried the form guide in the breast pocket of their jackets.
We would picnic on the lawns and watch the horses.

Somewhere between the 80's and the 00's things went to shit. Girls dressed like whores and Boys wore jeans and T-shirts, style became completely lost. I can safely say I have never worn a dress above my knees to the races, I can not say the same for others.

There were a few years between say 2000 and 2004 where my recollections of the Cup are somewhat hazy, I don't remember seeing horses and the memories end with my friends and I dancing shoeless on tables in local bars, we were not particularly lady-like.

I have tried to make it to the Cup over the years since my children were born, but usually not making too much effort, just throwing together an outfit and tagging along with friends on the day.

This year was a little different.

It was the 100th running of the Cup. NOT the 100th year of it's running as one local business is currently displaying on their window ... * headdesk * Grafton Travel; you fail.

The Grafton Cup was first run in 1910, with Gosine leading the pack to the post in a glorious victory.
However, the Cup was not run in 1942, 1943, 1944 and 1945 due to World War II, clearly the country was too preoccupied to be bother with the triviality of a little horse race, and rightfully so I say.

A very kind invitation from a very generous Gentleman, made this year a little more special.
I was invited to attend  the Cup by the Mr and we were graciously accompanied by the 2012 Best Dressed Lady and the soon to be 2013 Best Dressed Vintage Mr.

This was big! I needed an outfit worthy of Miss Best Dressed's company.
I pulled together a 1920' Gatsby inspired outfit, from various stores in the Northern Rivers, I added some vintage and some new sparkly jewels and some finger waves and I was ready to go.
I assisted the Mr with the purchase of a velvet dinner jacket and paisley tie. I think we looked smashing.

None of this however, should distract from the actual purpose of the day; the Cup. I excitedly stood pressed between the fence and the Mr's chest as Mr O'Ceirin galloped to victory in the big race.

I enjoyed the day, but the evening was wonderful also. Rather than fight with the crowds for a table in Grafton, we stole away to Châteaux Alexander in Coffs Harbour.
We dined at Amalfi's a delightful little Italian restaurant then retreated to our mountain top hideaway, with its 240 degree views of the Pacific Ocean.

Such a perfect day. Thank you Grafton Cup, and Thank you Mr x

The Weekend with ALL THE THINGS.

My weekend had ALL THE THINGS!

A road trip with the BF.
Ice-skating, my first ever adventure on ice.
A romantic night away.
Delicious breakfasts.
Strolls by the ocean.
Playing Marylin Munroe at the Sawtell blow hole.
A photoshoot at the local Agricultural Show with the beautiful and talented Minyarose Photography.
Eating carny food.
Watching bull riding and woodchopping.
My babies came home from their dad's house.
An ANZAC service.
A picnic in the park.
Horse riding with Deegan and Shannon.
and Movies with the munchkins snuggled in bed.

Armidale Heritage Walk

A long while ago while attending a residential school in Armidale, I had a free afternoon. 

I took myself to the tourist information centre and there I found a map labelled 

"Armidale Heritage Walk" 

I picked one up and took myself on a beautiful spring walk through the streets of this magnificent city. 

This is what I saw.

Dedicated to Ms Ellie x

These boys I know make a lot of noise

So, there are these boys I know.

They're musicians.

Mr Keys, Mr Gheee-tar, Mr Bass Face, Mr Brass Boy and Mr Thumper.

They play music, sometimes all together, when this happens, they are called Clocks and Dice.

Sometimes in combinations of together and can be known as The Mo'villians, Swingset, Clock and Die . 

4 of them live together, yep band share house, scary right ? It gets better.

4 of them study music at University together.

Things are going so well for this band that they are playing the Lotus Palace Stage at BLUESFEST!

When I first heard that they were going to live together, play together and study together, I have to admit, I was a little worried.

Having lived in plenty of share house situations before, I could see all the ways that this could fall apart. 

It hasn't. 

These men, have bonded, shared and experienced a great deal in the last 3 months, 

away from there families and partners, they have developed a new family between themselves. 

But it's not the music that is the glue that is holding this all together. 

It is a beautiful, vibrant and brave woman. 

Mrs Bass Face.

This lady has her work cut out for her, living with 4 musicians.

She too is studying and in her spare time makes the most magnificent millinery creations.

She is the glue.

I feel pretty blessed that these people have come into my life, that they are sharing their adventures with me and that I can ride on this musical rollercoaster. 

I am especially honoured that Mrs Bass Face has offered her friendship too me; and while I am the grandma of the group, some days it feels like she is taking me under her wing and not the other way around. 

Mrs Bass Face

she is the glue.

Clocks and Dice

In his car

There are certain places I love to be. 

I have this friend and his car is one of those places. 

Always the driver, in my real world, 

sitting back in the passenger seat of his van

with my feet on the dash and the smooth sounds

of Rai Thistletwaite or John Mayer on the stereo,

I can watch the world fly by.

This brings me a special sort of happiness. 

These are the things I see when I am there. 

I love nothing better than road trippin' with him in the hippy hills. 

The Beauty of being Solitary

Today, I took myself on a little adventure. 

I won't lie, in the past I was fearful of doing things alone. It scared the hell out of me. 

However, I am slowly developing the ability to go out, alone and feel confident. 

Today's journey had a purpose, but as I discovered, the purpose was not were I found the joy. 

The joy was in; not having to answer to anyone, not having to ask permission to do things and go places, not having to worry about anyone's needs or timetable but my own, not having to race to toilets for my little people, not having to find food that everyone else likes for lunch and not being asked constantly "are we there yet?" and "can we go now?". 

However along with this joy, that nasty little critter guilt had hitched a ride and whispered to me, "You're a bad mum, how can you possibly enjoy being away from your little people?". 

For a long time I sat looking at the ocean thinking about that, and I realised; they are safe, they are with their father, the opportunity to share my day with them does not exist and then I felt a sense of relief, I had no reason to feel guilty. 

And I went back to the joy, I drank my hot chocolate and ate my spinach and feta muffin and enjoyed the silence and the breeze on my face.

Interesting Things

After a busy morning doing a photo shoot with the gorgeous little Bailey.

I returned home and we decided the pack up the car and take a trip to a little village about 30 minutes away.

Nymboida was just a blip on the map until last year when Russell Crowe decided to buy the local pub and build himself a museum.

"The Museum of Interesting Things" is really just a place for Russ to store is excess wardrobe I am sure, with most of the "interesting things" being costumes and props from his movies.

And obviously Russ only has a small garage at home because he has park a half dozen of his personal motorcycles at the museum too.

But there is something a little bit special about this museum,

something a little bit personal, you see, my dad is a car man...... no that is an understatement, he is a car NUT, you see my dad owns a Robinson Jaguar, it is his pride and joy, I don't know a lot about cars, but I know I like this one, it's red and it's shiny !

The kids were very excited to see "Poppy's Racing Car"

although Lillian was reluctant to have her photo taken with it

(she was distracted my the mannequins in the stage coach, after we had just explained the process of taxidermy and the giant horses pulling Russ's Gladiator Carriage, she was a bit concerned that the people had been taxidermed too ! )