Fourteen

The 28th of April saw the commencement of Michael’s 14th year on the planet and as has become the norm, I thought I’d share a couple of thoughts on the milestone.

At 14, Michael is still transitioning from boy to young adult. I wouldn’t say that he’s an early bloomer, but he’s certainly maturing. As with most teenagers I suppose, he flicks between the states of responsible and regressive. He flicks from being happy to help out with chores (when requested) to utter outrage over some minor infraction of inconvenience. I guess its one of the true markers of this part of his life as hormones tear around inside with little regard for the rational.

Michael continues to do well at school, though is perhaps a little scarily like me in that he does well at the things that he’s good at, whilst not perhaps maintaining the focus in those things that are seen as peripheral to his immediate interests. He continues to devour books rather than simply reading them and all I can say is at least Sam, Caroline and I all read them as well so that we get value for money when we destroy the Australian publishing industry by shopping online!

Something new this year and somewhat unexpected is that Michael is now the current reigning school Junior Chess Champion. It was something of a surprise to us given that we didn’t even know that he’d entered. Apparently one of his friends was entering and as that reduced his options for something to do at lunch time he decided to have a go as well and went through undefeated! Nerdvana?

Overall there’s a lot to be proud of with where Michael’s headed. So far, he even continues to appreciate my humour, something that surely cannot last, but which I will enjoy for as long as it does. Although he’s a thinker, he still enjoys getting outside and playing sport, even though cricket was probably a disappointment for him this year (something about not being up with the growth spurt rate of his peers and having had 3 years off the game in Canada I think). The soccer season is coming and I think that he’ll get a lot more enjoyment from that, so we shall wait and see, cheering from the sidelines.

Happy Birthday Michael.

A Very Special Vintage

We’d been drinking the night before and I had left what I thought was an empty bottle of white wine in Jason and Bel’s annex. As I’d thought it empty, I was somewhat surprised when Bel brought it back in with about a glass of wine left.

Not thinking anymore of it at the time and being busy with the dishes, I put it next to the sink and forgot about it. Later in the day Caroline said something about the fact that it should probably be in the fridge, but neither of us bothered to act at the time.

It was about 4:30 in the afternoon when Jason came in and asked to have a quiet word. As I was in the middle of getting changed, I wasn’t in a position to leave the caravan and asked him what he needed. He quietly asked if I had the bottle of wine that Bel had given back to me earlier in the day. I did and showed him at which there was something of a relieved look before he started laughing and explained that he’d been up in the middle of the night and didn’t want to face the walk down to the amenities block, so had picked up the empty wine bottle and quietly relieved himself.

He’d then gone fishing with Caroline early in the morning with neither Bel nor I any the wiser.

Thank all that’s holy that I hadn’t tossed it in the fridge and opted for a quiet glass at lunch time!

Another Easter holiday

After the spectacular trip that we took last Easter, taking in the Grand Canyon, some rather tall trees and the like, it might be considered a little mundane to be towing the caravan off to Pt Hughes, but in reality, there was probably more excitement amongst the family this year than last.

That excitement translated to an off and on again decision as to when we should depart – Tuesday night after work or Wednesday morning? Three out of four children decided that Tuesday night would be the better time to go and so it was to be.

Now anytime you think that you’re going to leave for a trip straight after work, you hope that everything is going to be packed and ready other than all those really awkward and heavy things that become the job of the family pack horse to get into the caravan. With a 2 hour drive to reach our destination, I’d secretly hoped that we might have been able to get away before 6:30pm, but of course am a little more realistic than that given our history with departures. At 7pm I was still comfortable, but by the time we actually left at 7:40pm, tempers were starting to fray (well mine was).

At least we were underway. It was on Main North Road that things got a little sticky. We were cruising along quite happily when an apparently juiced up cat decided to streak from the side of the road and play chicken. Given the weight that we had behind us, swerving and stopping were equally undesirable in the sort of time frame that could have made any difference.

Feeling three solid hits as the cat used up nine lives in very quick succession, I felt pretty terrible, but was in something of a quandary as to what to do. There was no way in hell the poor little bugger survived and we were in the middle lane, so I couldn’t exactly stop without having a massive impact on traffic anyway. Not to mention that had I stopped there would have been all sorts of questions as to why it was that we were stopping.

I really didn’t want to have to tell Emily that we were stopping so that I could scrape the pancaked remains of some poor family’s pet cat from the road. I felt bad enough without adding that to the occasion. So we continued on a somewhat less merry way at least as far as a dinner stop, where I made the mistake of crossing the road. Only when I went to come out again did I realise that you couldn’t turn right to get back to where we were headed. Hence, a scenic detour ensued, through the back streets of North Adelaide, weaving the caravan through bloody annoying speed restriction devices.

We did get here though. It was late and it was windy, but we managed to eventually get to a point where we could sleep in the van, ready to tackle the full set up in less windy and daylight. We at least got the daylight part of the equation right!

Going Shopping

In the brief 2 weeks that I had in Australia prior to the arrival of the rest of the family I was living in an apartment, all on my own and without any of the household goods and luxuries that one becomes used to having. Simple things like shampoo and toothpaste.

Not a large problem, simply a matter of stopping in at the supermarket and picking some up. It all sounds so simple.

What I realised as I stood there in the aisle was that normally I have a choice of one type, that being what ever has been procured by my lovely wife. I simply remove the shampoo from the rack and wash.

But standing in the aisle of the supermarket, the choice was significantly greater. It was bloody enormous in fact. All sorts of fruity and fantastic concoctions lined the shelves before my eyes, each professing to be the ant’s pants in their chosen line of hair care. Oily hair, dry hair, coloured hair, over exposed and under nourished slightly toxic hair. There only seemed to be two versions lacking as far as I could establish. Shampoo for those with no hair (possibly called soap) and shampoo that has been formulated to quite simply wash hair.

I remain grateful for the persistence of those hairs that continue to cling to my head and their efforts at covering the dome beneath and I don’t really stop to consider where it fits in the scale of dry to oily etc. I’m sure that that little bit of colour I had applied to the tips of my hair once about 20 years ago is no longer and issue. And that natural grey colouring that’s starting to creep in probably doesn’t need any chemical assistance or maintenance either. So really, when it comes to trying to identify a shampoo to suit my head, I’m really not looking for anything special.

Regardless of all the procrastination, a choice had to be made. I thought about spinning randomly in the aisle with eyes closed and arm extended (due to the lack of darts in my possession to assist with the random selection) but really, I’m strange enough without behaving like that in a supermarket. I might have been committed! I scanned one more time and decided that perhaps prevention would be a way to go. So I grabbed the head and shoulders anti-dandruff stuff and headed to the counter because apparently, its good for ALL sorts of hair!

eight part 4

This week marked the commencement of the little pink thing’s eighth year of influence over the planet upon which we live and more importantly over that little piece that she so graciously shares with the rest of the family.

The seventh year of her rule held some significant changes for the little mite that are worth reflecting on just very briefly. She finished her first year of school in Canada, travelled a little bit (tick off Skiing at a world class resort, Disneyworld, Cruising the Caribbean, scaling the Eiffel tower, a traipse through Venice, the Swiss Alps, the Dutch Windmills …) moved back to Australia, started her second year of school (and completed it at the end of the same term) and started her third year of school and finally, become a mother to a couple of underground chickens rabbits. *breathe now*

Needless to say that having managed to get through all that and cope with three other brothers besides, she’s a confident little thing. Spoilt? Most certainly. Opinionated? You’d better believe it. She has already mastered the eye-roll (predominantly I believe due to a father’s lame sense of humour). “Da-ad!” she’ll say as the eyeballs rotate and the cute little face flicks sideways to look at me.

She’s taken up softball and has managed to do quite well, connecting with the ball and managing to work her way around the bases. Winter will see her attempt netball, which should be interesting given the lack of exposure to the game in this part of the family.

She has already lost the Canadian twang with her immersion in our home culture, though just occasionally a word or two will slip out with that little bit extra in it. She’s fitted in like a pea in a pod at school, readily finding herself a collection of girl-friends and mixing well. I’m not sure if they let her be the boss or not, but just perhaps in amongst her peers she’s managed to find a way to be part of the group sometimes rather than being the one that orchestrates all that happens around her.

Despite the fact that there are three older brothers influencing her, Emily shows no signs of turning into a tomboy at this point in her life. With an almost overwhelmeing collection of ‘stuffies’ as she calls her stuffed animal menagerie she can often be found in front of the computer with a Taylor Swift song belting out as she dances away for her own amusement or hosting a tea-party for a couple of rabbits whilst the brothers are off shooting anything that moves on the PS3 in the background.

But for all that goes before, she’s still a precious little girl at heart with a big capacity to love and plenty of hugs to dish out (when she feels like it of course). Generally happy, with possibly one of the best little girl giggles when tickled, the little pink thing is certainly a wonderful part of our family.

Happy Birthday Emily.

Price Check on Bunny Love

You may recall that a couple of weeks ago Emily adopted a new member into the family by way of a small ginger-colour rabbit appropriately called “Ginger”.

Well it was always intended that the little mite not be left to the sole attention of Emily, but that it would at some point in time receive a little rabbit companion to help it while away the hours (you know, those ones it spends in blissful peace whilst Emily is at school).

On the weekend, that companionship became a reality with a brand new ball of fluff coming home. It’s a tiny little grey haired girly rabbit, placid as the day is long. We spoke at some length to the people that we bought the rabbit off, considering amongst other things, the best way to introduce the two of them to each other without there being much in the way of territorial issues. It is Emily’s hope and desire that the two be very very good friends and in fact produce more little bunnies. Caroline seems to think that a litter or two would be ok. I have reservations, but will go along for the ride.

One of the surprising things that I learned was that a rabbit can have a new litter every 31 days. Ye gods! Talk about getting back on the horse … no wonder they call it rooting like rabbits (for the Canadians that read this, rooting is a whole different ball game over here … you just keep cheering). We also of course asked about when we could expect the young male thing (Ginger) who was already in the house to first start having amorous feelings. We were told that this would be at about 12 weeks. We figured Ginger to be at about 10. That should provide a small buffer whilst they got to know each other.

Anyway, we decided that we’d introduce them to each under the front verandah, on neutral territory as had been suggested. So tiny little Grace (the new addition) was allowed to explore whilst Emily went inside to get Ginger. Well, it wasn’t really until she brought him out that we realised just how much he’d grown. The size difference was rather pronounced, but we ploughed on regardless, really having no choice.

Ginger was set free to go and nosed his way around the verandah, completely missing the little bit of fluff that was cautiously nosing past him in the other direction. Then there was that moment where a scent must have drifted across the young boy’s nose and his attention was suddenly diverted elsewhere. Suddenly there was a bit of sniffing going on as Ginger investigated this interesting phenomenon. The next bit was like watching pheromones to hormones in seconds or less as Ginger, just a young little rabbit himself was overtaken by hundreds of years of instinct as he jumped the poor little Grace from behind and did what rabbits do best. Given that Ginger is currently about 2-3 times the size of his new playmate, it looked like it just may have been a little scary for the new girl on the block. They were quickly separated and Emily needed some reassuring that Ginger wasn’t hurting Grace.

Several more attempts at introduction made it very clear that there really was space for one thing in Ginger’s head and he was going to do what ever he could to get it. At one point, after Grace had been hopping about and exploring in the living room (sans Ginger of course) Ginger found the cushion that she’s spent some time sitting on and decided that if he couldn’t have her, then he’d at least have some good old fashioned cushion loving fun. Must have smelt good, that’s all I can say.

Needless to say, the single little rabbit hutch that we bought clearly wasn’t going to cut it until we’d determined that young Grace was up to the trials and tribulations of mother hood and so a hasty ‘insta-hutch’™ was produced from one of our left over moving boxes so that the boy could be separated from the girl.

He pines for her, it must be said. He’s been found sleeping outside of his hutch, right alongside that box and if you look carefully inside, she’s not far away. Being the adventurous rabbit that he is, its going to take some planning to keep these two bunnies apart for a couple of weeks until she’s ready. He’d previously been found lazing about on the arm of the couch, having hopped his way up there progressively and then last night he managed to find his way up onto the top of the A-framed hutch. Given that it’s a piece of wood about an inch wide, he did well to last as long as he did before falling back down again.

This morning he managed to find his way onto the top of the box that has become the ‘insta-hutch’™. Of course, there’s a rather large flap been cut into the top for the purposes of extracting and inserting litter trays. He didn’t know this. He found out rather quickly though as the floor of the world dropped away from beneath him and deposited him inside the hutch. Fortunately Grace wasn’t in there at the time.

So, watch this space, because it’s not likely to be long before nature takes it course and Bunny Love becomes more bunnies than this one man might be able to handle!

On Turning 40

Turning 40 didn’t worry me.

Back when it happened, there were several people that asked me about it and I truly found that when it came down to it, it was a bloody good reason to have a big birthday bash and that was about it.

Now Caroline has turned 40 and I had more reason to stop and think about it again. I still haven’t changed my mind. Caroline seemed to think that it wasn’t a particularly big deal, but did note that she really wasn’t looking forward to turning 50. There’s that little part of me that backs away from thoughts like the fact that 40 might be half way and the spiralling path toward my own mortality, but let’s not go getting all morbid.

When I did stop to think about it long enough, it came down to where I was at with my life. Did I have any significant regrets? Did I feel that I’d missed out and was running out of time? Not at all.
When I looked at where I was at the age of 40, I was in a good place (this hasn’t changed, by the way, its simply that this is retrospective!). I was (and am) married to an amazing woman, we have four kids that so far seem to be on the right track and not causing too much stress and grief (of course most of them aren’t teenagers yet) and we were living on the other side of the world and getting to do some pretty darn cool things with our lives.

Had I not been married, or had we not had kids or travelled, then perhaps there would have been something in the regrets column to tick off. Perhaps not having owned a car that goes 0-60 in the blink of an eye could be listed there, but it’s so material that it really doesn’t stack up against all of the things that I do have. About 10 years after I’d left Singapore, I did start to wonder whether I’d ever have more stories to tell to compare to those that I’d taken away from that experience. I didn’t want to be 20 years past my time there and still telling those same stories, at least, not without something from later on to spice it up.

And fortunately for me, I’ve even managed to do that. Canada was an amazing experience and even more so for the fact that I was able to share it with my family. I’ve filled up on stories, seen more of the world and of course been left with a few more things that I’d like to add to the bucket list. After all, the more of the world you see and the longer you live, the more things you hear about that you’d like to get to do.

So 40 wasn’t a big deal. Just watch out for the next time that I feel that my stories are getting a little stale. Who knows where that might take us.

And so it begins ...

…One little rabbit’s battle for survival.

Emily is about to turn 8 and the thing that she’s wanted more than any other thing in the whole entire world is a pet. She would go totally insane if a little puppy dog was to ever front up to this house and be a permanent resident.

Let’s face it though, we’re horrible, evil parents who can’t be bothered cleaning crap off the lawn and living with a dog’s life span, so that’s simply not going to happen. Instead, we’ve opted for a pet that will provide a little bit of joy and entertainment (at least for the first week?) but that won’t live quite as long. We’re not wishing that the poor little mite finds and early grave or anything, we’re just investing in a shorter term option.

So today a tiny little bunny arrived in the house much to the utter delight of a nearly 8 little girl. Named Ginger (with the possible alternate of General Flopsy), its’ currently found itself wrapped in a towel and being toted around the house. I’m not convinced that by the time that we return from purchasing a hutch for it, it won’t have managed to flee to the far corner of the garden and beyond as its instincts for survival take charge!

Of course the greatest danger to the little blighter is the very real chance that it gets loved to death!

Hoping for a musical gift

This year, as the kids prepare to embark on their scholastic journey once more, we find two of the tribe learning instruments as part of the school curriculum. On the plus side, its Thomas and Emily, who both spent some time learning the piano over the last year that we were in Canada. It should at least give them a little bit to work from with regards to reading the music etc.

Now I used to learn the guitar. It was a long time ago and I like to think that after 6 years of lessons, what I worked out was that I was rubbish. Well maybe not complete rubbish, but I learned to play one note at a time and with little to no artistic flair. I play the guitar like an engineer. Well, when I say I play it like that, I used to. I think I remember one chord and couldn't read a sheet of music to save my life.

So I am hoping that from somewhere within the genetic mix, Thomas and Emily will find themselves with some of that non-tone deaf magic that good musicians have.

After all, Thomas is learning the Trombone and Emily is Learning the Violin.

Can we say cruel and unusual punishment?

(I might have to insist that all practice is done straight after school)

Hello 2011

Clearly its been a while since I last managed to sit down and put fingers to keys for this little part of my world. Its been both relaxing and busy since Christmas and that’s at least part of the reason.

After the ultra-success that was Turducken for Christmas Dinner – what’s not to love about getting to carve three birds in one go with nary a bone in the way? It was time to focus on the serious business of life – relaxing. The days between Christmas and New Years were spent sorting a few things out around the house, reviving sprinkler systems and so on and continuing the seemingly endless task of recovering from the move back home. There was also a little bit of thought about the planned trip to Aldinga on the 2nd.

We saw 2010 off in fine style, enjoying once again being able to host a party at home, with the BBQ outside and with the finally assembled pool table inside and the weather accommodating enough to enjoy it all. The blender got a workout, keeping things well lubricated, even if at one point someone said that they weren’t alcoholic enough! I believe that was subsequently well taken care of, hey Belinda? We even had visitors (or displaced locals) from Canada for the occasion and it was great to catch up with Jim and Annie after last seeing them across the ocean whilst also catching up with good friends from Adelaide again.

The 2nd saw us off to Aldinga for the week which was of course incredibly tough. Sun and sand and an ocean less than 50 metres from the front door was always going to be a big ask, but we held in there, re-uniting with friends in a week of fun that had become tradition prior to our departure from these fair shores. The inflatable kayaks were introduced to the Aussie beach with much success, including Caroline managing to lure a few squid from the oceans depths and Michael and Sam were re-introduced to the concept of sun-burn. Copious amounts of sunscreen were applied, but it only takes that one lapse. I don’t think it will be happening again any time soon.

Off the back of that week, its been back to work, frantically moving towards the real kick off of this project, which will see me in Broken Hill for a couple of days soon as we look to commence the physical work. It will be great to get out of the planning stages and be able to go ‘touch and feel’ things again.

And of course there’s the much anticipated virgin trip in the new Caravan which is somewhat exciting. Nick managed to come through for us in spectacular fashion, seeing us become proud owners of a Pajero on the eve of Christmas which finally meant that we had the capacity to tow at last. We had somewhat hopefully booked some time away in mid January, but it simply wasn’t going to work for me, so we had to cancel at the last minute. The new opportunity came out of the blue and I for one can’t wait to finally get away again, though I am sure we will oft-lament the fact that we didn’t end up bringing back the van from Canada!