Saturday, 1 January 2011

"The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea."


I spend my life running away from my shadow .. this guy wants to chase his. One day he will catch it - the Universe will get sucked inside out.

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Last night Max and I sat on the couch, watching the fireworks in Sydney Harbour. Fireworks are never as good on TV, but we were amazed anyway. “WOW! Mum .... imagine if they did this at the end of every single day. That would be so cool. It’s the end of another day! Woo-hoo. PHHP-CRACK-POW-POW.”

To celebrate the end of every day ... we made it through! I love a nine-year-old’s perspective on the world.

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We have in our possession five travel pillows, five packed suitcases, five excited hearts. Our flight to Bali leaves today. Tim has discovered motojumping in a Balinese brochure. You ride a motorbike off a cliff, attached to a bungee cord. No pools are fenced in Bali ... we have a heavy duty lifejacket for Rocco, he is a wild man from Borneo around a body of water. There is a water theme park there that would not pass any safety requirements in the western world. The guys will love it.

I will be praying to all the Gods, that my family comes back in one piece.

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Yesterday, I wanted to make one of my famous non-alcoholic drinks for an alcoholic. “Don’t buy mint. There’s plenty in the garden.” So I didn't. I went to make my famous drink ... Dave’s mother was technically right.



Unfortunately the mint was brown, crunchy, and covered in spiders. Cheers!

She lives in the same town as my own grandparents once lived, many moons ago. We went to Soldiers Beach yesterday .... I took the same rockclimbing track I used to take as a kid. The rocks are all the same. Maybe I am too. Maybe we spend our entire lives getting back to the state of freedom we felt in our youth.

I asked Dave to drive past their old house, on a whim. It’s exactly the same!



I came here for many school holidays ... nanny would make pikelets for dinner laden with brown sugar and lemon. My grandfather (Grumpy) would tell me stories about Shamus the leprechaun who lived at the bottom of the garden and I believed him. He used to write poems and stories and so I did, too. Nan would tell me I was good at it.

I miss their love.

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Max and I lit sparklers just before midnight last night, in the dark. Rocco and Dave were in bed, Tim was on the phone. We both wrote our names in the sky, then each made a wish. I wished for Max to have a better, happier year this year. Later, he whispered into my ear his wish.

“Mum, I wished that this year is just so better than last year – not busy.”

At the top of my new years resolutions is to make that boy pikelets for dinner. Laden with brown sugar, and lemon, and love.

Happy new year to you .... you haven’t made any mistakes yet! It’s a blank slate – what are you going to do with it? (Hint: ANYTHING.)
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