G'day Y'all

The Making of an Expat

2010-10-17T21:25:00.005+11:00

It would have been impossible for me to know on that fateful night 12 years ago when I first met the Handsome Australian, that one day I would not only be his wife, but would make my home in a strange land far away from all that, up to that point, was comfortable and familiar. The future ramifications of our love affair never really played on my twenty-something mind. I was swept up in the excitement and open to the adventure. Come to think of it, I've never really been much of a planner. I've never had a 5 year or 10 year plan. I'm not a goal setter. I'm a "let's ride this wave and see where it takes us" kind of girl. And that's precisely how I approached my relationship with the Handsome Australian.

When we first met in Buenos Aires, I had no expectations for our blossoming relationship. He was a great guy and we had fun together. The reality was that he was Australian and I was American and we were both in Argentina for a finite amount of time. At the end of which, we both had intentions of returning to our home countries which may have well been opposite sides of the earth--oh wait, they are. It seemed perfectly reasonable to treat the whole thing as a holiday romance and just enjoy the fun while it lasted. So this is exactly what we did. We never talked about the relationship or about a future or about anything particularly serious. We just had a really, really great time.

At the end of the Handsome Australian's time in Argentina, he booked a trip to the Southern region of the country to visit Lago Argentino and Glaciar National Park. Saddened by the thought of him traveling alone during his final week in the country and finding myself a bit more attached to him that I wanted to admit, I spontaneously contacted his travel agent and booked myself a seat next to his. I wasn't sure how the Handsome Australian would take the news, but it was very well received. He was glad to have a travel companion and happy to spend one last week with me.

Our time in the remote town of Calafate on the periphery of Lago Argentino was magical. Our days were filled with sight seeing tours and our nights were spent sampling the local cuisine. The glaciars were mind boggling and beautiful. Each night the food we ate was amazing. Everything was perfect. I remember wishing it never had to end. It occurred to me during this *final* week of our holiday romance, that I might just be on to a good thing. I might have just found something worth holding on to. Only problem was that this something, or someone rather, was about to get on a flight to the other side of the earth and I was meant to head back to Buenos Aires solo. What was a girl to do?

With about 4 hours left before my flight was set to depart the Rio Gallegos airport and I was due to say goodbye to the Handsome Australian, we sat together having lunch at a hodgepodge Asian buffet--in the heart of Patagonia. The food was an unexpected and bizarre mix of Argentine standards and Chinese favourites. The concept of the restaurant was almost as crazy as the ideas that were running through my head. So with this mixed up meal as my preface, I floated the idea of me possibly coming to Australia after my time in Argentina was finished. And then I waited.

The Handsome Australian began to sweat profusely. His normally calm and relaxed face took on an anxious and confused look. Perhaps he was even frightened. Then came the questions. How? When? Why? I did my best to answer his queries, but I was shy on details because well, I'm not a planner. This was just something I knew I needed to pursue and the how and the when would have to come later. The 'why' was obvious. I'd come to the realisation that this was more than a holiday romance and that if I didn't follow my heart, and take this chance then I'd always be left wondering 'what if'...

The clock ticked on and it was time to catch a cab to the airport. It was during this cab ride, that the Handsome Australian slowly returned to his former self. He had started to consider what neither of us had considered up until 2 hours before...a future together. The more we discussed the possibility, the more relaxed he became. Still, he proceeded with caution and warned me that life in Australia would not be like the life we'd known together in Buenos Aires. I told him I understood, but I still wanted to ride this wave and see where it took me.

By the time we reached the airport, the shock had worn off and he'd agreed to think about the proposition and was speaking more and more positively about the idea. Our time had finally run out. We said our goodbyes and I walked out on to the tarmac and up the stairs of my waiting plane, not wanting to look back I marched up the stairs, but then suddenly turned around to see the Handsome Australian standing inside the glass with a smile on his face. I gave him one last wave and moved into the plane.

For the next three hours, I sat in a window seat looking down on the vast and sparsely populated Patagonian landscape below and I felt, for the first time in my life, completely and utterly at peace. I'd said what I'd needed to say. I'd put it all out there. I'd ridden the wave. No regrets. What happened next wasn't for me to decide. The ball was in destiny's court and I'd just have to wait to see what came my way.

Lucky

2010-08-23T10:33:00.000+10:00

In one of those remarkable cosmic moments, I found an American penny on the streets of suburban Melbourne a few months ago. I was most excited by this unusual find and henceforth deemed the penny "my lucky penny". I brought it home and put it in a very safe place...the top of my chest of drawers. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it, but I knew that I needed to hang on to it.

Several weeks later, the Handsome Australian and I were out in the City for dinner. He'd booked us a table at 2010's Pizzeria of the Year, +39. The Handsome Australian had dined there before and promised me charming Italian waiters, fine wine and simple but tasty pizza. The occasion? We were marking 12 years since the day we met back at the Embassy in Buenos Aires.

When we arrived at +39, our table wasn't ready so the host sent us to the casual bar across the road. We had a few drinks and then headed back across the street to claim our table. We were seated in the very back of the cozy little restaurant...somewhere between the pizza oven and the toilets. True to his description, the waiter arrived and began to explain the menu in the most beautiful broken English with a very heavy Italian accent. The Handsome Australian became "Bello" and I became "Bella". We ordered some wine and an antipasto platter to start and some pizzas to come later. "Perfetto," ordained the waiter as he disappeared to organise our wine.

The Handsome Australian then slowly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little box which he placed in front of me on the table. Taken by surprise, I looked searchingly at the little blue box with the white ribbon and wondered what could possibly be inside. After all, this was really more of an informal anniversary. It wasn't our wedding anniversary, just the day that we'd met all those years ago.

The waiter returned with our wines, saw the little blue box sitting in front of me and his eyes grew very wide. He placed the glasses down very quickly and rushed off waving his hands apologetically and repeating, "Scusi, scusi, scusi." Poor guy. I think he thought he'd interrupted a wedding proposal.

Keen to find out what was inside the box, I untied the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside I found this:

It was a beautiful sterling silver locket in the shape of a heart. The Handsome Australian indicated I should open it up to see what was inside. Intrigued, I did just that.

Inside the locket, I found a photograph of the two of us that had been taken in Hawaii earlier this year. While we were there, we'd celebrated our 10th year of marriage with a vow renewal ceremony. The photo was one of the two of us during the ceremony. It was such a lovely sentiment, but then the Handsome Australian told me to lift the photo out of the locket.

Why? I wondered. What else could possibly be in this locket? So as not to disappoint my dear husband and to cure my increasing curiosity, I did just as he instructed and lifted the photo gently out of the locket...

and there, sitting secretly behind our photo was my lucky penny. The Handsome Australian had realised how significant the finding of this penny had been for me and said he wanted me to have a safe place to keep it (hmm...I guess the top of the chest of drawers just wasn't cutting it). This way, according to him, I'll always have my lucky penny (and the USA) close to my heart.

The antipasto arrived. It was lackluster. Then there was pizza of some description and several glasses of wine followed by some sort of nuttella dessert pizza. All, truthfully, not that memorable. Or perhaps just eclipsed by the Handsome Australian himself.

Handsome and thoughtful. What a combination. I'm a lucky girl...in more ways than one.

One night in Buenos Aires...my date with destiny.

2010-07-08T10:57:00.010+10:00

On a winter's evening in the leafy Buenos Aires suburb of Belgrano, music could be heard bubbling over the fence of a well manicured garden belonging to one of the many stately mansions that lined this particular Calle. Amongst the music, a bevy of accents and languages mingled with the sounds of clinking glassware. A garden party? In the middle of winter? Why yes, nothing's impossible in Buenos Aires. Peeking through the gate you'd expect to see fancy cocktail dresses and fine suits, but that wasn't the case. Just inside the fence, on the lush abundant lawns, were dozens of people, young and old, in all make and manner of fashion. A first impression from the footpath may have been misleading. This was not a fancy soiree. No, in fact, it seemed more like a casual barbecue amongst friends. Yes, there was a waft of sausages a sizzle about the night air. A glance at a very official sign posted just on the wall near the gate and it was obvious who was hosting this delightful gathering...a very serious looking Kangaroo and his partner, an Emu with a wry smile. This was the Australian Consulate after all, who else did you think might host such an unusual party?

It was July of 1998 and I found my twenty something self wandering through the gates and into the middle of this eclectic little cocktail party searching for a familiar face. Very much as Alice tumbled down into the strange and stunning world of Wonderland, I reluctantly traipsed through the sea of faces and into the beginning of my fairy tale. It wasn't long before an acquaintance caught my eye. An Economist of sorts and a fellow countryman, he struck up a conversation the details of which I can no longer recall. I'm sure we exchanged pleasantries and remarked about the lovely setting in which we found ourselves, but all the while I was scanning the lawns looking for someone else. Finally, I spotted her, the girl I'd come to meet. I politely excused myself and made my way over to the bar where she stood.

She had an unmistakable laugh that made you happy just to hear it. On this evening amidst all of these strange new faces, I was thrilled to hear her laughter. It was after all, the laughter of a friend. As I approached, I noticed she was holding court with a very odd couple. One was a very short and mildly handsome man with a friendly smile who spoke both English and Spanish with a very heavy Italian accent. As it turned out, he also spoke Italian with a very heavy Italian accent. The other half of this odd couple towered over both my friend and the Italian. With his dark eyes and charming good looks, he could have been a citizen of a dozen different countries, but when he spoke, his accent exposed him. Unlike his Italian mate, he didn't struggle with English, but instead spoke it confidently and softly albeit with a subtle but charming Australian accent. I wanted to hear more...

Introductions were made immediately and this mysterious Australian and I began to exchange tales of what had brought each of us here to this enchanted city, to these generous gardens, to this very moment. His was a tale of a capitalist well on his way up the corporate ladder. His firm had brought him to Argentina to work on a important project. He spoke little or no Spanish upon his arrival, but now three months in, he could get by. He'd come along this particular evening because his fellow compatriots had made a tradition out of attending these gatherings on a monthly basis. Who was he to argue? Besides, as he explained, where there are drinks, Australians will never be far away. Curious and curiouser indeed. Mine was the tale of a young student on a scholarship with a love of languages and a greater love of travel. My wanderlust had brought me to Argentina where I'd already spent 6 months absorbing the language, the culture, the food. I'd met other Expats along the way and many had become good friends, including my American roommate who had first told me about this party on this night. It was because of her and my lovely laughing British friend who'd been chatting to this Handsome Australian when I arrived that I found myself at this party. In this moment. Talking to him.

The evening slipped slowly away as we discussed a great many things. From the corner of my eye, I noticed my British friend had finally escaped the well meaning Italian and moved on to a more lively group of Germans. Yes, there were some truly fascinating people at this party, but none so fascinating to me as this Handsome Australian. There was something about him and his gentle manner that made me happy to spend my evening in conversation with him, and him alone.

In the wee hours of the morning, the drinks had stopped flowing and friends and acquaintances alike were bidding one another farewell. It was time to say goodbye to this Handsome Australian. We'd chatted effortlessly through the evening, but when it came to goodbye, we didn't quite know what to say. With an assist from an inebriated Englishman who had interrupted the final moments of our conversation, the Handsome Australian found the courage to ask for my number.

It was in that moment, that my life's trajectory was irrevocably changed. Although it was impossible to appreciate at the time, my path had been completely reset.

And that my friends, is how *this* Alice came to live in the Wonderland of Australia.

A bit of luck...

2010-07-06T13:28:00.005+10:00

A few weeks ago, our children spent the day with their grandparents and the Handsome Australian and I managed to duck out for a lovely lunch together. We hadn't planned on going to lunch necessarily, but when we realised our day's errands would take us past Carrington Road, Box Hill we couldn't resist. We both love a bit of Vietnamese food and Box Hill is one of a few Melbourne hot spots for Vietnamese cuisine. Carrington Road is home to quite a few tasty Vietnamese restaurants. Our favourite amongst the bunch is Indochine, but on this particular day, we thought we'd try something new. So we took at table upstairs at Tien Dat.

We spent the next little while in the sunlit dining room amongst families of all different sizes and cultures enjoying a lovely Sunday lunch. There were mixed spring rolls to start. A warm pot of tea to take off the chill of a winter's day. Then we stuffed ourselves with a lovely Chicken salad and Bun with Lemongrass Beef. With our tummies contented, we made our way downstairs to pay the bill and continue on our merry way.

As I stepped outside the doors of Tien Dat and began to make my way down the footpath along Carrington Rd, I looked down and saw this:

A coin lying on the footpath. I didn't think too much about it, but then I looked again.

To my surprise, on the ground in front of me lay not just any coin, but an American penny (1 cent piece). Immediately, my mind was transported back to my childhood and this little rhyme began playing in my head, "See a penny, pick it up. Then all day you'll have good luck." So I reached down and picked up this little penny and gleefully showed it to the Handsome Australian. "Look! Look what I've found here. It's an American penny! A real American penny! That's amazing! What is an American penny doing lying on the footpath in the middle of Box Hill?" Then I proceeded to sing the rhyme to the Handsome Australian. After which, I deemed this penny my "lucky penny". I read the date on the penny--1988. "Was 1988 a good year?" I asked the Handsome Australian. He seemed to think '88 was a decent year. Honestly, I thought to myself, what are the chances of me, an American, walking along this particular footpath at this particular time and finding this particular coin? It definitely seemed like destiny to me.

I tucked the penny in my pocket and when we picked our children up later in the day, I told them all about Mommy's new lucky penny. They were very impressed and wanted lucky pennies of their own. I told them sagely, "One day, your lucky penny will find you somewhere when you least expect it." After all, that's exactly what happened to me.

Happy 4th of July

2010-07-04T22:33:00.005+10:00

There were no fireworks in Melbourne for the 4th of July today. There was no parade or barbecue, or watermelon or children running around waving bright sparklers in the setting sun. In fact, it was hard to tell it was 4th of July at all. So the little people and I decided to whip up a little something patriotic to mark the day in our own quiet way...

Happy 4th of July to all the Americans out there...wherever you may be.

*BTW, you're looking at AUD$9.00 worth of blueberries there. This is what happens when you celebrate a Summer holiday in the middle of Winter. Yikes!

The Expat issues a: Please Explain

2010-06-24T22:18:00.002+10:00

Wow what a day in Australian history. Last night we went to bed wondering if Australia would be in or out of the World Cup and whether Kevin Rudd would be in or out of Australia's top job. Turns out both scenarios ended disappointingly for the players in question. The Socceroos fought the good fight and came away with a hard earned win, but alas it wasn't enough to keep them in the tournament. The end of Kevin Rudd's term as Australia's Prime Minister became fait acompli in the wee small hours of the morning and he gracefully stepped aside in the caucus room later in the day, handing the reigns to his deputy, Julia Gillard.

In a sporting mad country like Australia, you would have expected such a valiant effort by the national soccer team to have been all over the media. It would have been if it weren't for the political upheaval that was happening simultaneously. So needless to say, soccer took the back seat to politics and all day the media ran around telling us about Australia's first female Prime Minister. An exciting story, certainly, but curiously, the biggest thing I took from today's proceedings was this: there is some stigma attached to being a Redhead in Australia. As an expat, my understanding of Aussie culture is constantly evolving and even after 10 years of living in the thick of it, quirky little things like this pop us and make me question if I even know go from whoa.

So to the Aussies out there, can someone please explain to me why terms such as "Ranga" (short for orangutan as I understand it), "Ginga Ninja", and "Bloodnut" are being tossed around to describe the newly minted Aussie PM. Why is it such a crime to be a redhead in Australia? Isn't it just a hair colour?

The Big USA Pilgrimage: Traveling with Preschoolers

2010-06-19T13:29:00.003+10:00

I recently wrote a post about traveling between the USA and Australia with an infant in tow. As I said then and will repeat now, making these transpacific journeys with children adds a whole other dimension and as children age, their requirements change. So in this post, I'd like to talk a little bit about making the journey with preschool aged children.

The good news is, I think as my children have aged, the journey has gotten a bit easier. Firstly, the hard work I've put in in the past has started to pay off. The journeys I made with them as babies gave them an introduction to the trip itself and to the goodness that waits for them on the other side: grandparents, cousins, Chick-fil-a...you get the idea. My kids never complain about the length of the journey to the USA as they've been enough times to understand that the pain is worth the gain in the long run. Of course they get bored and sometimes frustrated during the trip, but the fact that they've been so many times now means that they well and truly have an understanding of how long it will take and as such have reasonable expectations as to what will happen and when. This understanding of the journey itself is priceless. So put that in the column of reasons to take them and take them often.

Once my kids were beyond the baby stage, I had to transition my thinking from how will I keep them fed, changed and well rested on the flight to how will I keep them entertained (and fed, and well rested and worst case scenario...changed)? So I began researching ideas on how to entertain young children on such a long journey. I spoke to other Expats about it, I read articles online and I tried to take away ideas that I thought would work the best for my kids.

The first thing I did was decide that the children were going to have to share the load a little bit. My children were still young enough to require some nappies and a few changes of clothes, add to that snacks, travel documents, cameras, wipes, medicines, and on and on and on and my carry on luggage was well and truly full. So I got each of them their own little backpacks. They both have a special blanket and a small stuffed animal they sleep with. I packed their blankets and stuffed animals in their bags so they would have those special comforts on the plane.

Then for about a month or so before the flight, I scoured the $2 shops for things to entertain them on the plane. Something I read online said you should take a mix of old and new things for the kids. A few old and loved toys that you know they will enjoy having along, but then something new to surprise them and distract them once their old favourites have lost their luster (ie the remaining 13.5 hours of the flight). Here's a few ideas of the sorts of things I've included in their backpacks over the last several trips (I've got a girl and a boy, so hopefully the list covers ideas for both genders):

*Small notebooks or drawing paper
*Coloured pencils/pens/crayons/textas (or markers)
*Stickers (pages of stickers)
*Colouring/Activity books
*Crayola Recoloritz (reusable themed pages that can be wiped clean and coloured in again and again)
*Stencils
*Story books (paperback is the way to go, even though board books are sturdier--they are heavy)
*Paper dolls
*Play doh w/a few small cookie cutter shapes
*Polly Pocket dolls & accessories or similar (small, light weight, but easily lost so beware)
*Hot wheels cars (or in my son's case the cars from the Disney Pixar Cars movie)
*Fold up play mat for the cars
*Small plastic animals
*Barbie dolls with a few accessories (again, accessories can go missing so beware)
*Magnetic Dress Up Dolls/Robots/Pirates
*Magnetic Playbooks by Tiger Tribe
*Playing cards
*Flash cards
*Figurines (choose your poison: Batman, Superman, the Wiggles, Ben 10, etc, etc)

There you go. A few ideas of the kinds of things we've packed during our past several trips. It sounds like a lot of items to fit into small backpacks, but we don't take very many of any one thing and we don't necessarily take everything on the list. For instance, this year my son was very heavily into the cars from the Cars movie. He has a small collection here at home so I got him to choose 5 that he wanted to take with him and we put them into a zippered pencil case to keep them together in his backpack. (A Ziploc would do the same trick, but a pencil case is sturdy and will last the whole trip.) Then before we departed, I got him 2 new cars for his collection which I put in his backpack. So when we are on the plane, he opens it to find the cars he packed and loves plus a surprise two new ones. He's happy. I'm happy. We're all happy and these cars keep him busy for ages. With my daughter, she was very keen on her Barbies. So I got her to choose two Barbies and a few changes of clothes that she wanted to take along. She stored her things in a pencil case inside her backpack as well. Then I found some mini-Barbie figures that were tiny and could be used as siblings or babies of the bigger Barbies and I put them in her backpack. On the plane she opens her pack to find her old Barbies plus a couple of new mini ones. She's happy. I'm happy. We're all happy.

At some stage, I began to question the number of things I was purchasing to put in their backpacks for these trips. Between the few new toys and the crayons, colouring books, etc. I was spending anywhere between $30-$60. Then in the middle of one of our trips, I realised something. These items in their backpacks weren't just for the plane. They were for the car rides once we got there. They were for the days at people's homes who don't have children or toys. They were for the fun of sharing with their cousins and the knowledge that even though my children were away from their homes, they still had a few things with them that were truly theirs. These items weren't just for 14 hours of entertainment, they were for 6-8 weeks of entertainment. When I thought of it that way, it seemed like money well spent.

What we don't take is a portable DVD player or DVDs of any kind. I often see people lugging these on the flights and I'm not sure why. Qantas has on demand movies and TV shows on individual screens in each seat. My kids can watch their choice of shows and I don't have to carry the DVD player. When we get to the USA, there is so much to do and so many people to visit that we don't usually have time to watch DVDs. So what would be the point of having it? Others might find it necessary or useful, but we've survived without it.

Hopefully this post is useful to those of you making this long haul journey with your preschool aged children. Do you have any useful tips of your own? Please feel free to add them in the comments section as we can all learn from one another.

An Accidental Accent

2010-06-16T23:41:00.003+10:00

When my children were very young, they spoke with the Aussiest of accents. The fact that they had an American mother who was their primary care giver never seemed to rub off on them. Their accents were so Aussie that their American grandparents had difficulty understanding them over the telephone (It was heartbreaking, but predictable. Americans aren't known for their ability to understand other English dialects). I never put much thought into how they pronounced their words or what vocabulary they used when they spoke. To me, they were just my children and their voices were their voices.

When my daughter was 4, we traveled to the USA for our annual holiday to visit my family. During our time there I noticed a difference in the way she was speaking and the things she was saying. She was slowly but surely picking up the the American accent. Not just a subtle accent though, a very obvious American accent. When we came back to Australia after being in the USA for 8 weeks, EVERYONE commented on how her accent had changed. That she was speaking like an "American" now. At one stage, she asked me, "Mom how long will I speak American for?" Hmmm, I thought, "Well, really as long as you like." She liked to speak like an American, so this accent continued for quite awhile. Slowly though, it began to fade and the Australian accent came back.

My son, who is younger, had a similar experience when we returned to visit the USA this year. He picked up lots of American words and came home speaking with a slight American accent. It was nowhere near as profound as the one my daughter came home with last year, but it was certainly noticable.

Several weeks after our return home, we had a birthday party at a local Gymnastics school for our daughter. My son, the flirt, had one of the gymnastics instructors eating out of the palm of his hand. The girl spent so much time with him during the party. He loved the attention and she seemed very taken by him. At the end of the party he told me, "Mom, the Gymnastics teacher at the party asked me if I had an American 'accident'." To which I replied, "Oh, you mean, 'accent' right?" But he insisted, "No, I don't mean 'accent' I mean 'accident'. She asked me if I had an American 'accident' and I said 'No' because Mom I don't speak American."

So it seems while my daughter's American accent was intentional, I have a charming yet stubborn 3 year old with an accidental accent.

A slide by any other name...

2010-06-11T12:28:00.004+10:00

Would be called, "a slippery dip". If you lived in Australia that is. I've lived in Australia for 10 years and this is news to me. See what you can learn on ABC Kids?

The view from the top is still very much the same as it was when I knew it as "a slide", but the potential for fun seems to have increased exponentially.

That's the key to the Aussie spirit...same stuff, funnier names.

The Big USA Pilgrimage: Traveling with an Infant

2010-05-02T19:34:00.002+10:00

International travel is always an undertaking, but never more so than when you have kids in tow. The flights between Australia and the USA are so long that one must come prepared. I was extremely anxious before we took our first transpacific flight with my first born. She was 7 months old at the time and I know I lost sleep for many nights before we departed wondering if she'd scream her guts out for 14hrs and how exactly I'd deal with the ensuing mutiny if that really did occur. Fortunately, my nightmares never saw the light of day and my daughter was relatively well behaved. Of course, half of that is credit to her personality and the other half is credit to good planning on my part.

When traveling with an infant on a transpacific flight, I always tried to contain my hand luggage to just the nappy (diaper) bag. The reason being, I'd need to have my hands free to carry the baby. Inside of the nappy bag I'd pack:

*nappies (enough for the flight plus extra in case we missed a connection or had a delay)
*Plastic bags
*tissues
*wipes
*changing mat
*bottles (w/formula if you require or to be used for milk)
*baby food or snacks
*bibs
*baby's blanket
*PJs
*Couple of changes of clothes for baby and a clean shirt for me
*Medicines: panadol, dimetap, bonjela, etc
*Wallet
*Travel Documents
*My personal toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, etc)
*Toys: 6 or 7 small items, some old favourites mixed with something totally new but NOTHING with noise (your baby might like the sounds, but your fellow passengers don't...trust me!)

(This is not an exhaustive list, but just a general idea)

I always pack these items in sealed plastic bags (ziplocs or space bags). I did it on a whim the very first time I flew the distance with my new baby and have stuck to this method ever since. It's much easier to pack and repack ziploc bags holding groups of items rather than each item individually. Also, something always spills or leaks, so if every item is zipped up in plastic then you won't have any big consequences with these unfortunate spills.

My children always traveled as lap children when they were under 2 years old. This meant we only paid 10% of the full fare for them and they aren't allocated a seat. When they are small enough, they can sleep in a built in bassinet while on board the plane. The bassinets fold down from the bulk head at the front of each section of the plane (on Qantas anyway). Many parents find this a useful place for baby to sleep during the flight. My kids have always hated them and never settled to sleep in them . So in my personal experience, they were of little value, unfortunately. Don't be deterred though. Give them a go and see if they work for your child. If it means having your lap free for 7 out of 14 hours, then it's all worth it. The downside to these bulk head seats is the arm rests house your tray tables so they do not lift up. So if you do have an empty seat next to you, you can't really stretch out because the arm rest is in the way. So bottom line is, if you aren't going to use the bassinets, try to request seats elsewhere so you can spread out more easily if you have the chance.

Another item I found really useful during my travels with my infant children was my Baby Bjorn. This came in super handy when baby number 2 arrived and I needed to have my hands free to hold child number 1's hand or push child number 1 in a stroller (pram). You do have to completely remove baby from the pouch and put the whole thing through the x-ray machine at the security check point, but it was nice to have my hands free for checking in, paying for food, carrying hand luggage, etc. (It might be important to note here that a great many of my USA trips with my children have been done solo due to my husband's work commitments. So having my hands free was very important because I was doing everything myself),

I always take a small collapsible stroller that I can gate check. I found it useful to have the kids buckled into a stroller in a busy airport so 1) they don't get lost and 2) we can move quickly if necessary. Also, I've found the stroller a great help in transporting my hand luggage as I'd generally hook that bag on the handles. A basic stroller that can fully recline with some sort of small storage space underneath is what I've always used. The stroller has always been really helpful in the LAX airport waiting for our return flight to Melbourne as that flight doesn't depart until 11pm LA time. By this point, my kids are beyond tired. So I just wheel them around in the stroller till they fall asleep and then wrap them up and carry them on board the plane when it's time to depart, turning the stroller over to the airline staff at the jet way entrance.

As for car seats, we've never taken them along. Partly because we've got so much other luggage and partly because we are always able to borrow seats from kind family and friends upon arrival in the USA. Now that our kids are older and only require the basic booster seats, we've actually purchased their own inexpensive ones in the USA and leave them with family members there from year to year. This works well if you always visit the same place.

I'm sure this does seem like a lot of things to consider, but when it's all packed up, it' isn't really that bad. I'd love to hear from others about what things you take along and what's worked for you. Please share what you know in the comments section! Thanks.

The Big USA Pilgrimage: Airline Choices or Why I heart Qantas

2010-04-29T09:00:00.001+10:00

I get plenty of comments on this blog (when I actually find the time to post) from Americans who have recently moved to Australia for work purposes as well as other young American women, like me, who have fallen head over heals for their own Handsome Australians and have decided to settle in Australia. In either case, we all need/want to travel back to the USA at some stage. Some of us will do it often, some of us will do it rarely, but it will be done. In this post, I thought I'd outline my thoughts on the airline choice we make for the Australia-USA journey. I'd love for this to be a conversation where everyone shares their opinions and thoughts regarding the various airlines in the comments section. We can all learn something from one another right?

Here it is: We ALWAYS fly Qantas. This isn't meant to be an advert for Qantas, but over time they've proven to be the airline that best meets our requirements. Having lived in Australia for 10 years, Qantas, United, and Air New Zealand were originally the only choices we had to choose from regarding our travel to the USA. From Melbourne, United stops in Sydney before heading to LAX or SFO. Air New Zealand takes you from Melbourne to Auckland before continuing to LAX. Qantas takes you directly from Melbourne to LAX non-stop. Need I say more?

Before I had children, I didn't mind stopping in NZ or Sydney, but since I've had kids I've learned that the most direct and quickest route is the best choice. The fewer times you have to get on and off a plane, the fewer times you have to shift luggage, the fewer times you have to resettle a restless child--frankly, the better. Qantas isn't always the cheapest choice, they may be a few hundred dollars more than the competition at times, but during these long trips I'd pay far more than that for the sanity I gain through only having the one direct flight. (Obviously from other parts of Australia your choices will be different and in many cases, better).

In the past few years, the route between Australia and the USA has been deregulated allowing for more competition. New airlines have come into the market that weren't flying these routes 10 years ago. Delta, V Australia, and Jet Star are among the airlines that now offer services to different parts of the USA. As we only travel to the USA once a year and are heavily invested in the Qantas frequent flyer program, we have yet to try any of the other airlines. Some of you may have traveled with the other airlines and have valuable insights about them. Feel free to chime in with your experiences in the comments section. =)

So, the obvious reason why we fly Qantas is the ability to fly direct, but there are other things I like about the experiences we've had. Qantas offers an excellent on board entertainment system that makes traveling with children a lot more enjoyable. Each seat in Economy class (because that's where we fly!) comes equipped with a TV screen in the seat back in front of you. Your arm rest holds the remote control and at your finger tips are hours of "on demand" TV shows, movies and games. There is a plethora of child friendly content and the kids can pick and choose what they want to watch or play. (This has recently become even easier on the new A380s as the entire system is operated by a touch screen--so easy even my 3 year old can do it on his own). I love it! I don't have to carry a portable DVD player or lug a laptop. The kids don't have to argue over who gets to watch what--we all decide our own destinies! It's fantastic.

Qantas still offers a meal service and a 'kid's meal' option. I always book the children a 'kid's meal' and generally ring Qantas to confirm ahead of time because we've been caught out a few times. Their kid's meals are very kid friendly and offer a selection of items on the tray both hot and cold, sweet and savoury. This is something you take for granted and then one day you fly Jet Star and you realise how good you had it on Qantas...more about that another day.

Generally, there is a kid's activity pack that gets passed out at the start of the journey and my kids always seem to get at least 45 minutes of joy out of these. These packs are ideal for bridging the gap between take off and when the entertainment system is up and running (on the 747s anyway, the new A380s let you start watching videos before you even take off--hooray!). If you don't get handed one, be sure to ask for it. Once the initial excitement wears off, we tuck them away and revisit them later in our journey.

Qantas staff have been, in our experience, polite and helpful. I find the Melbourne ground staff to be really, really friendly. The flight attendants on board are generally nice and good with our kids and have given us extra help when we require it. The happiness and good will seems to end in LA though as the staff that work the counters and gates in LA seem to be missing the laid back and friendly Aussie spirit, and are more in keeping with the sometimes rough and unpredictable city in which they work. I have found that even the sternest of encounters can be softened by a smile from my son, so I keep him nearby to charm these tough LA gatekeepers. Hey, whatever works right?

The benefits of sticking with Qantas has meant that we've been able to take advantage of their frequent flyer program. Since we know we'll be making a USA trip each year, we've set ourselves up with credit cards that earn Qantas points and we take advantage of other opportunities like Woolworth's Everyday Rewards program, that allow us to collect more frequent flyer points. We are all members of the Qantas frequent flyer program--including the kids. We enrolled them when they were 2 years old and we had to start paying for their seats. This means we all earn points each time we fly with Qantas and their program allows you to transfer points between family members. So, all of these things add up and we get a couple of free tickets every second year or so. When you are looking at airfares for 4, every little bit helps!

There you have it, the many reasons why we choose Qantas for our USA trips. Again, I am not trying to intentionally promote the airline, bur rather outline the reasons why it's proven to be a sensible choice for our family. Would love to hear what everyone else thinks! Let the comments begin!

The Big USA Pilgrimage

2010-04-28T10:26:00.004+10:00

The time rolls around each year when the Handsome Australian and I prepare ourselves and the little people for our pilgrimage to the USA. Since I've been living in Australia (for the better part of 10 years) I've averaged about 1 trip to the USA each year. In the beginning, our trips generally lasted for 2 to 3 weeks. The Handsome Australian and I both had busy work schedules and this was pretty much the maximum amount of time we could afford to take off in one hit. Packing for those trips was easy as we typically traveled over the Christmas period and we confidently loaded our bags with jeans and jumpers and off we went.

Now that we've had two children, our trips to the USA have become a completely different endeavour, as you might imagine. Firstly, we've changed the time of year that we travel. While being with my family during Christmas would be lovely, we've found that airfares to the USA are nearly double during the Christmas period. Airports are crowded and the weather can be uncooperative. Who wants to be stuck in an airport with over-tired toddlers after a 14 hr flight waiting for 6 hours because your connection has been delayed or canceled? Certainly not I. We've found some of the best fares to be had are generally during the North American Spring and Fall. Typically February, March and April are good travel months as well as October and early November.

We've chosen to travel during March/April for the past four years. This has meant we've spent Easter with my family each time. Since we are unable to be in the USA for Christmas, it's been lovely to share another significant holiday and its traditions with my family. Our children look forward to the colouring of eggs, the big Easter egg hunt and all the play time they get with their many American cousins. It's a tradition and while I'd love my kids to have the opportunity to spend Christmas with their cousins as well, I appreciate that life as an expat has its limitations. Many times this lifestyle requires compromise and thinking outside the box. So instead of being homesick and sad about missing Christmas, we've endeavoured to create a new set of customs that fit our schedule and don't bust our budget.

How long do we normally visit for now? What do we pack? Stay tuned for a new series of posts where I will endeavour to share what I've learned over the years about making this big journey. Thanks for stopping by!

Jock's Ice Cream

2010-02-21T16:35:00.011+11:00

Australia isn't known for it's ice cream, and with good reason. Quality ice cream is a hard thing to find in the land down under. The variety of ice cream outlets and even grocery store options are something I took for granted during my time in the USA. I never realised that the rest of the world lived without Ben & Jerry's. OMG! I didn't appreciate the Blue Bell Homemade Peach (the Texans among you know what I'm talking about) until it was too late. Honestly, I'm not even a true ice cream connoisseur. Deep down, I'm a Slurpee girl at heart. So when I first moved to Australia, I didn't even take notice of the lack of good ice cream. I just wanted to make sure there was a ready supply of Slurpees.

As it turns out, I married an ice cream fanatic who, unfortunately unbeknown to him, happened to live in a country with paltry ice cream offerings. The Handsome Australian loves nothing more than a cold bowl of ice cream at the end of the night. Until we lived in the USA together for a stint early in our marriage, he was quite happy with the ice cream he'd grown up eating in Australia. Then I introduced him to Ben & Jerry's and the like, and thus began his dissatisfaction with the Australian ice cream industry. He couldn't believe the myriad of flavours on offer in the USA, nor the quality. Just as we wondered how Americans survived without Tim Tams, we also wondered how Australians survived with out Ben & Jerry's.

After living in the USA, the Handsome Australian became a true ice cream snob. It was the only part of his food snob persona that had yet to be cultivated, so it was no surprise really. He was all ready a coffee snob and a restaurant snob; to become an ice cream snob as well was really the logical next step.

As you can imagine, once you become an ice cream snob, not just any ice cream will do. You want to eat really good ice cream all the time. How do you do that when you live in a place where really good ice cream is hard to find? Well, you pack the wife and kids in the car and you drive across town to visit Jock's.

83 Victoria Ave, Albert Park

Jock's Ice Cream & Sorbet is both a well kept secret and an institution. Tucked appropriately between a Pizzeria and a Video shop on Albert Park's Victoria Avenue, Jock's always has a steady stream of customers. The place seems to do a roaring trade with the locals who all arrive on foot, bicycle, skateboard or scooter. Some come just for one scoop, while others arrive with cooler bags and grab a couple of litres to take home. How lucky are these folks to have Jock in their neighbourhood?

Then there are the diehards like us. The people who have driven over half an hour to marvel at Jock's wall of awards (yes, there is a wall full of framed awards in case you were in doubt about the quality of the ice cream) and drool over the offerings in the freezer case. There is a definite quirkiness about Jock's and a true originality when it comes to flavour offerings. On our most recent visit, the Handsome Australian chose "Baked Apple" to top his cone. Imagine a baked apple pie, but as an ice cream flavour. Honestly, it was so smooth and subtle yet extraordinarily delicious.

I was enticed by the "Obamarama", which was peanut butter and jelly ice cream.

Obamarama

Seriously. I wouldn't normally go for that kind of a flavour, but after tasting the Baked Apple, I knew that Obamarama, while unusual, would not disappoint. It certainly didn't.

Our little fellow loves lemon. If there is a lemon sorbet on offer, that's what he wants. Inevitably, we always have to eat half of his cone because it starts to melt before he can finish...or that's how we explain it to him anyway. This means I've tasted a lot of lemon sorbet over the years and Jock's version of the lemon sorbet is definitely the best I've ever had.

Loves a little Lemon

As for the little lady, she loves anything involving a mixture of chocolate and vanilla. Jock's answer for her was a flavour called, "Chocolate Ripple". This is another popular Aussie dessert, Chocolate Ripple Cake, as an ice cream flavour. Nothing but smiles from her, confirming yet another winning flavour combination.

Her smile has a ripple effect

After the hard work of choosing your flavour is over, you can relax on large communal benches outside or take your ice cream for a stroll along the beach which is a short three blocks away. Fantastic ice cream in a lovely neighbourhood right next to the beach. Who could ask for more?

Not this guy, he's in heaven!

If the ice cream is this good, how could it still be a well kept secret? This is the one thing I don't understand about Jock's. When I mention the place to people in our area, no one has heard of it. Yet the newspaper clippings and magazine articles singing the praises of Jock's line another wall inside his store. Some things just can't be explained, but I'll tell you this--run, don't walk, to Jock's today for your own little scoop of ice cream heaven.

Starting all over again...again.

2010-02-14T21:06:00.002+11:00

Two short weeks ago, I started over. My oldest child began her first year of primary school here in Australia and although I've been living here for 10 years, this experience has been a whole new ball game. I felt once again, like I'd just arrived. I know lots of parents have to adjust to the difference between preschool and primary school, but I can't help but think that as an expat, there is another dimension. I feel like, in many ways, I've got far more things to consider than my Australian counterparts going through the same transition.

Australians have a basic working knowledge of the school system here because they were educated in the very system in question. I, on the other hand, was educated in the American public school system. I can't help but constantly feel like I'm on the back foot and everyone else is two steps ahead of me. The school schedule, the daily routine, the curriculum, all seems to be second nature to most of the other parents, but I'm taking in the information as quickly as it's coming and I still feel a bit like a deer in the headlights. The Handsome Australian is a good reference for me because he was schooled here in Australia, but his memory is vague. Really, really vague. (Is there a man out there that remembers details? Anyone?) So I soldier on, trying to work it all out.

The basics are all there, but the approach is vastly different to what I remember of school in the USA. During a Parent Information Evening last week, our daughter's teacher was explaining the "No Worries" approach that the school takes with the children. If they make a mistake, they are told, "No worries, we all make mistakes. " That seemed fair enough. Then she said, "If they forget something at home like their hat or their jacket or their show and tell item, please don't rush home and get it for them even if they are crying. We just say, 'No worries'. It's okay, you forgot." I appreciate that these kids are very young and teaching them to not sweat the little things is probably good for their resilience, but gee it seems really laid back to an American like me. I'm not saying it's wrong, I'm just saying it's different. It's many subtle differences like this that mean I have to constantly rethink my expectations, readjust my understanding and review the process.

Then there is the whole social side of things. Just like my daughter in her new class, I've got to make new friends with the other Mums. I've always said Melbourne social circles can be a hard nut to crack. My prior experience here has taught me that most Melbournians have well established friendship circles full of life long friends and family which leave very little room for expats like myself. I'm not saying Melbournians are unfriendly, I'm just saying the lack of transience in their culture means the ties that bind are that much stronger than a more transient society like the USA. Which means as an Expat, you have to work that much harder to create a network for yourself--especially when you spend 2 months out of the year back in the USA, which has been the case for our family for the past 4 or 5 years.

Yes, just as the school year is settling in, and we've started to learn the names of the other children and parents, we pick up and go back to the USA for 6-8 weeks. When our daughter started preschool, I thought nothing of our trip to the USA and its social implications for either of us. When we returned from our trip I realised the friendship groups in the class and among the parents had formed and we were on the outside looking in, once again. This isn't a problem that doesn't solve itself over time, but it's just the constant feeling of starting over, starting over, starting over. Of course as soon as we settle in to the group, the year is finished and the following year is a different class or even a different preschool...and repeat.

Now that my daughter is at primary school, I know we'll be in one place for quite awhile so the friendships we make now will hopefully be lasting ones. Still, with a trip to the USA pending 6 short weeks after the beginning of the school year, I am doing everything I can to meet and befriend as many of the families as we can to try and avoid that starting over feeling again once we return from our trip. Who knew there would be so much to consider?

I thought I'd gotten the hang of this country, but here I am starting all over...again.

A peanut butter injustice!

2010-02-03T18:37:00.006+11:00

The Handsome Australian and I had the opportunity to take our little people to lunch at the local cafe today. We don't exactly live in a suburb that is overrun with first rate eateries. In fact, I can't think of a single one in a 2-3km radius. Most of the places near us are typical suburban cafes. Nothing fancy, prices are reasonable and the coffee is generally 'good enough'. As the Handsome Australian is a self professed "food snob", it takes a bit of convincing to get him to eat locally. He much prefers the inspired menus, award winning barristas and slick fit outs of the inner city eateries. Unfortunately, for the Handsome Australian, you can't be cool 100% of the time--especially when you have kids.

Our cafe of choice today is one frequented by the children and I on a regular basis. We pop in to have coffee, milk shakes and smartie cookies at least once or twice a week. It has a real neighbourhood vibe. We always know at least one or two other customers when we arrive. The kids love the place because there is a bucket of toys in a corner in the back and they spend the entire time playing with their mates while I catch up with the other Mums. It's not flashy, but it serves a purpose. It's a good neighbourhood meeting place for the desperate housewives of our little slice of suburban Melbourne.

So when we went today for lunch with the Handsome Australian, I tried to prepare him for what he'd find upon arrival. I told him the coffee wasn't going to compare to the ones he gets from the award winning barrista across the road from his City office. I told him the menu was limited and to be honest, I don't actually eat there, we usually just grab drinks and cookies. I wanted to lower the expectations as much as possible because when the Handsome Australian goes for a meal, he doesn't like to be disappointed. I thought I'd done a pretty good job of lowering the bar...

When we arrived, we found they had a kid's menu which was very reasonably priced (they aren't paying City rents are they?) with many options that our children would find appealing. After a brief discussion, our oldest decided she'd have a Vegemite sandwich and our youngest chose to have peanut butter and jam (or jelly for the Americans out there). The Handsome Australian and I chose a couple of foccacias and then we waited.

The waitress brought out the kids' sandwiches first. They are served on plastic kid friendly platters with cute pictures. They are cut up into bit size squares that kids can easily handle. So far so good. Then I looked over at the little man's peanut butter and jam and my jaw hit the floor. There were piles of margarine oozing out the sides of his sandwich. (Don't believe me? Have a look at the photo above? Large quantities of margarine clearly visible!!) This was a real, WTF? kind of moment. Who puts margarine on a peanut butter and jam sandwich? Isn't the butter in peanut butter implied? Do you need to add butter or margarine? Never in my 30ish years have I ever seen such a disservice done to the humble peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Who knew you could tamper with something so pure and simple? Wow.

Poor little man didn't eat it. I wonder why? I've never understood the Australians' need to put margarine on the bread of every sandwich they make. Surely common sense should prevail in a case like this. From now on I'll be ordering the peanut butter and jam sandwiches WITHOUT the butter!!!

Yes, this is a crazy, crazy place. Or perhaps this particular well meaning suburban cafe is a crazy, crazy place. One thing is for certain, after seeing this crime against peanut butter and jam, the Handsome Australian will never set foot in this cafe again. I guess I just didn't lower the bar enough...how could I have known?

Expat or Texpat?

2010-02-02T22:43:00.002+11:00

I was shopping recently and came across a sales woman with a familiar sounding accent. She was clearly American, and once she heard me speaking to my son, she realised I must be as well. She asked, "Are you from North America?" (Which is the polite way to ask someone if they are American by the way, because if you ask a Canadian if they are American, well, you'll never hear the end of it. The accents can sound very similar sometimes especially with a little Aussie lingo in the mix that you can never be sure. So to be on the safe side, go for the whole continent and then work your way down). I said, "Yes, I am." So then she asked me even more politely, "What part of North America? Canada or the US?" To which I replied, "Oh me, I'm from Texas." Then we had the standard conversation about how she couldn't believe I was from Texas (always a hard sell) because I don't sound anything like a Texan (insert stereotypical accent here). We talked about places she'd been in Texas and the fact that she actually lived there for five years once herself. Turns out this particular saleswoman was from Chicago originally, married an Aussie and is now settled here in Melbourne with her very own Handsome Australian and a couple of kids.

When we finished with our pleasantries I wished her a good afternoon and continued my shopping. As I walked along, I replayed the conversation in my mind and started to think about my response to her question about where I'm from. When she said, 'Canada or the US?' I didn't even blink and shot out 'Texas'. Why? Maybe I was just trying to skip the next question: whereabouts in the US are you from? I don't think that was the case though. I think it was a case of Texas pride, because we Texans are, amongst other things, a proud people. Yes, the more I think about it, I wanted to make it very clear that I was not just from the US, but from Texas.

You know, there is a saying that goes: Texas. It's like a whole other country. The longer I live in Australia, the more I feel that way about Texas. When we make our annual trips to the USA to visit, we visit Texas almost exclusively. I've got family spread out all over the state and it takes us the entire 6 weeks just to fit them all in. So we really aren't visiting the US, we are visiting Texas and it is like a whole other country to us.

So I'm thinking instead of the 'Expat' label, perhaps 'Texpat' is more appropriate.

43

2010-01-12T08:54:00.004+11:00

Yesterday it was 43 degrees here in Melbourne. That's in Celsius by the way. In Fahrenheit, that little number becomes the great big number of 109.4 . I don't care where you are from, that's hot. An American friend asked me if that was common here this time of year. I wouldn't say 43 is a common occurrence in Melbourne, but it's not completely unheard of. We had a few days of 40+ degrees last summer--some of you might remember what happened then...the Black Saturday bush fires. When the mercury climbs this high and the winds start to blow, I get a sinking feeling now. I start to think about the possibility of another bushfire--and we live in the city, not even in the bush where the threat is very real. I can only imagine the terror in the hearts of the people actually living in the heart of the bush. Yesterday as my children and I sat nestled inside of our air conditioned home, I watched the laundry whipping in the wind on the line in the back garden and I hoped that there would be no stories of raging fires on the evening news. I hoped that our neighbours in the bush would be spared this year. The day came and went with little or no incidence--fire wise that is. Hundreds of trains were cancelled due to the heat and the Handsome Australian was forced to find another way home. We normally shut the air conditioner off overnight, but as we made our way to bed around midnight, the mercury was still sitting at 32 degrees (89.6 F) and when I awoke this morning it was 31 degrees (87.1 F)--so needless to say, we kept the air conditioner humming. Last night was apparently one of Melbourne's hottest nights on record. Today's forecast is for a high of 40 degrees (104 F) so we'll be staying close to home, trying to stay cool and hoping the best. I'll also be folding all of that laundry as I wait for the cool change to come through...

Another Christmas in Australia....

2009-12-27T11:40:00.002+11:00

So it appears I had quite the Grand Final hangover since I haven't posted anything since Geelong secured their berth in this year's big match. They went on to win the whole thing by the way...in case you were living in a cave for the last few months, or outside of Australia where very few know what Aussie Rules Footy is all about. Sorry about my lack of posts, I'll try and be better in 2010!

Christmas has now officially come and gone at our house and we've survived. Every year, the festive season in Australia seems to get more and more festive. Our calendars begin to fill with holiday gatherings from mid-November until well in to January. It's incredible the amount of things we need to celebrate and the number of people we need to do this celebrating with. That's a lot of champagne folks, and we still haven't reached the finish line. Cheers!

Boxing Day (as the 26th of December is known here in Australia) provided a much needed day of rest from the madness that came before and is due to follow. So yesterday while I was sitting around doing absolutely nothing for the first time since I can't remember when, I started to think about Christmas here and Christmas in the USA (because on Boxing Day in Australia, it is still Christmas in the USA). I realised the following things:

1. Where is the Christmas music in Australia? Seriously. There are Carols by Candlelight across parks, churches and community centers throughout December so I know they like caroling, but there is no Christmas music on the radio. Where is the Christmas music on the radio? Aren't there stations in the USA that play Christmas music solidly for about a week in the lead up to the big event? Am I making this up? Is this revisionist history? This is what I remember. Can someone please set me straight? Also can someone from my Aussie audience (that is if there is still an audience out there somewhere) please explain why there is no Christmas music on the radio because it's just not Christmas until I hear a bit of Wham...Last Christmas I gave you my heart...

2. Andes mints--they were in our Christmas stockings every year when I was a kid. Nothing said Christmas like those little foil wrapped slices of heaven. There are no Andes mints here. I have to say that normally this is not a problem for me, but yesterday, I really missed the Andes mints.

3. As I watched weather reports from all around the world roll in and I saw people stuck at airports and planes sliding off runways and blizzards all over the Northern Hemisphere, I was glad to be having Christmas in the summer. It's taken me nearly 10 years to become used to this custom, but it just makes things so much easier logistically speaking. Travel is easier, catering for large numbers of people is easier because you can entertain outdoors. Summer food is easier--no need to worry about getting all the food into the oven and hot at the same time--we're having salads!! No cooking required. In this respect, I was really pleased to be spending Christmas in Australia this year.

4. Speaking of cooking, we hosted Christmas at our place this year. The Handsome Australian has a rather large family and we did our best to accommodate them in our humble home. Our kind neighbours loaned us a spit to roast meat on in the back garden. This was genius. That meant no cooking in the oven and it also meant the boys were in charge of lunch! The one down side to this was the smoke from said spit wafted into our house for about 12 hours. It's now several days later and our house still smells like a barbecue pit. Ugh, but did I mention we had 30 people over and I, personally, cooked nothing!! So I guess you have to take the good with the bad eh?

5. Christmas gifts aren't as big of a deal amongst my Australian family. It seems each year, we are giving and receiving fewer and fewer gifts--which I have to say, isn't really a bad thing. It seems like the gifts we do give and receive are to and from acquaintances (like the children's teachers and the boy that cuts our lawn) more than friends and family. The best gift I received this year for Christmas, besides the health of my family, was a chocolate croissant from Noisette. Run, don't walk to Port Melbourne and get yourself one, unless you happen to be in France in which case you can probably find something similar at your local patisserie.

6. My children don't love the Boxing Day Test Match (that's Cricket at the MCG y'all) on the TV as much as the Handsome Australian does. There were plenty of tears yesterday as the Handsome one monopolised the television for his love of the game. He hasn't brain washed them on the Cricket yet like he has with the Aussie Rules. Perhaps that should be one of his resolutions for 2010?

Hope you and yours have enjoyed a lovely holiday season right around the world!

Go the Cats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-09-20T07:21:00.010+10:00

It's these hands that are responsible for the Geelong Football Club (I'm talking Aussie Rules y'all) love affair that plays itself out in our house each year.
As he tells it, the Handsome Australian has been a Geelong supporter since he was knee high to a grasshopper. His love of Geelong was borne out of the brain washing of a fanatical Geelong loving Uncle...and so the dynasty began. Our daughter, who is now five, has loved Geelong since she could string together the words, "Go the Cats". She adores going to the football and watching the matches on television with her Dad. This year, as our son entered the age of enlightenment (he's two) his father continued the indoctrination program that had been so successful on our oldest and, as if by magic, another Geelong supporter was born.

Our boy LOVES the CATS! Last night Geelong played in the Preliminary Final against Collingwood (for those of you who don't follow Aussie Rules, that is the last play off game before the Grand Final. The Grand Final being the equivalent of the NFL's Super Bowl). The suspense had been building all week and the little people were charged up and ready to watch the game. Would Geelong make it to their 3rd Grand Final in as many years?

Last night, the answer was a convincing YES! As Geelong schooled Collingwood on how to play Finals footy beating them 120 to 47. Unfortunately, the littlest Geelong fan in our house couldn't keep his eyes open for the game. In fact he fell asleep on the couch before the pre-game show came on. He was one tired little fella.

So we shared the good news with him this morning when he woke up, wearing the Geelong shirt that he's had on for the last three days.

Hey, hey you! Over there. Guess what happened last night?

Geelong beat Collingwood! They won!
He was speechless, but I think the squeaky noises he was making loosely translated to the following: "Oh my God!! They won!!!"
"This is too much! I can't take it. Wow. I'm overwhelmed."
"Gee, I, I just don't know what to say. I'm so proud of the boys. I just can't believe it."

"I'm so excited, I could eat my own football!! GO the CATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Watch out St. Kilda! We've got game and we're bringing it to the MCG next week. GO THE CATS!"

Always keep a little Texas in your heart

2009-09-09T12:33:00.006+10:00

I bought these boots for my little fellow when we visited Texas earlier this year. He wanted a pair of boots really badly and refused to take these off after trying them on at the store in Texas. The man had to cut the price tags off and he wore them home. He's been living in them ever since.

He gets lots of comments on these boots here in Melbourne. It's not that common for two year old boys to run around in such handsome cowboy boots here in the big city. He adores them and so do I. They are a daily reminder of Texas and of my maternal Grandfather who wore boots very similar to these most of his life. Just trying to keep a little Texas in our hearts...and on our feet!

Trivia Night--Fundraising Aussie Style Continued

2009-08-23T09:55:00.003+10:00

If you've come late to the party, you can read the first half of our Trivia Night adventure here.

Once we arrived inside the Church Hall, we were greeted by the excited committee of Mums who'd organised the evening. There was a door prize drawing that needed entering and a seating plan posted on the wall indicating where our table could be located. We'd been assigned table 12. Lucky table 12!! Right? Well, we were feeling lucky anyway so I decided it would be referred to as lucky table 12 for the remainder of the evening.

We made our way to our table, carefully dodging the various eskies scattered about the aisles. Judging by the size of the eskies, this was going to be a BIG night...at the Hall...of the Church. Pushing my puritanical American sensibilities to the side, the Handsome Australian and I began to unpack our drinks and nibbles and set them out on the table as our friends arrived to join us. A quick glance around the room and it was clear that if nothing else, our table took catering very seriously. While other tables were breaking out Tupperware filled with carrot sticks and pretzels, the Handsome Australian and I were putting together Antipasto platters, arrays of homemade dips and freshly toasted Turkish bread. It can't be helped, it's the Lebanese in us.

We were pretty proud of our offerings and appreciated the oohs and ahhs from our friends as they indulged in the nibbles. We took quiet satisfaction in the fact that no other table would be outdoing us with their food. That's when one of my friends pointed to the next table and said, "Have a look at that woman. She's brought some beautiful cupcakes and even has them displayed on a cupcake stand." What??? Cupcakes on a cupcake stand?? I'd thought about making cupcakes (they are one of my trademark baked goods) but I'd run out of time. Our friends wanted to know where our cupcakes were. I had to explain that I'd only brought brownies. Brownies that had cooked a bit longer than they should have because I was busy. Busy making heaps of tasty homemade dips. Sorry, I apologised. I needed to lift my game I was told.

The fact that we had heaps of dips and some overcooked brownies but no cupcakes was an early indicator that we had not come fully prepared for this Trivia Night. At our table of 8, we had a talented list of people. There were 2 Engineers, 1 Accountant, 1 Chef, 1 Photographer, 1 IT Professional, 1 Secondary School Teacher, and 1 Ultrasound Technician. The nationality breakdown was this: 1 American, 6 Aussies (five of which are first Generation Aussies hailing from Lebanon, China, Italy and Malta) and 1 Czech. Sounds like a pretty versatile and formidable team. We certainly thought so. Then the questions began...

Each table is given an answer sheet that they use to record their answers. There is a host with a microphone that asks the questions, you discuss them amongst your table and record the answers on your sheet. At the end of each round, you swap your sheet with a nearby table and correct each other's answers as they are read out by the host. Once you tally up the correct answers, you pass the answer sheets up the front where they are tallied by one of the administrators of the evening.

There were about 6 rounds with 13 questions in each round. Each round had a theme. The first theme was, "Bit of this, bit of that". It was predominantly pop culture questions with a heavy emphasis on Australian music. Umm, yeah, count me out on that. Lucky I'd brought along my brain trust of Aussie mates. We thought we'd done reasonably well until we swapped our sheet with the table next to us. They'd absolutely rocked the round and gotten a near perfect score. They were pretty nice about it though and didn't gloat too much to us. I guess table 12 wasn't that lucky afterall!

The night went on and the rounds continued with themes like "Australiana" (which had a heavy emphasis on Aussie music), "Famous Faces", "Music across the decades" (which had a heavy emphasis on Aussie music through the decades). Our answer sheets got worse and worse and our scores for each round got lower and lower, and the table next to us got better and better. So good that they began to make fun of our answers really obnoxiously (don't forget those eskies weren't filled with lemonade!) during the correction period at the end of each round. We ignored them, but were getting slightly annoyed with the questions. It was obvious that no one at our table had a strength in obscure Aussie music and if you didn't, there was no way you were going to win this game.

Our performance didn't disappoint only us, it garnered sympathy from the host who was roaming the room with his microphone while asking the questions. When he'd walk past our table, he'd look over my shoulder and read our answers. Then he'd turn the microphone off and whisper a couple of answers to me. I watched him carefully through the night and didn't notice him helping any other tables. We really were pathetic!! I felt bad taking his answers, but we needed all the help we could get.

During one of the last rounds, one of our friends spotted something at the table next to us. The table that had been performing so well and making fun of all of our answers. She spotted not one, but two iPhones. They were looking up the answers on their phones!!!! So perhaps that's why the Host had been sharing answers with us. Were we the only table that wasn't using our mobile phone to google the answers?? What is the world coming to? First the alcohol and now wide spread cheating at the Trivia Night, for the religiously affiliated Kindergarten, in the Hall next to the CHURCH!

When the final scores were tallied and the winners announced, we had to hang our heads in shame. The average score was about 140 points. Our team had managed a measly 115 points. The only positive thing about the final scores was that the obnoxious table next to us came in 2nd place.

Yes, this event was certainly like no other I've attended. The competitive spirit inside me was disappointed that we'd performed so poorly. The American in me was confused by the alcohol (at a school event) and scandalised by the cheating. The Aussie in me was happy to be amongst my friends enjoying some good food, a few drinks and plenty of laughs. The Mum in me was proud that at the end of the night, our shenanigans had contributed to a successful event which raised nearly $8,000 for the Kinder.

Next year, I'll have cupcakes and perhaps a professional DJ at our table.

Trivia Night--Fundraising Aussie Style

2009-08-18T08:27:00.005+10:00

Even though I've lived here in Australia for about 10 years, there are still events that I attend that make me feel as if I've just arrived. The Trivia Night at our daughter's Kindergarten (preschool in the USA) was one such event. This is how it went...

Several weeks ago, we got a flyer from the Kindergarten announcing the Trivia Night would be held as the major fundraising event of the year. Since most Kindergartens here in Australia are community operated or at the very least, underfunded by the Government, they must do a significant amount of fundraising to stay operational. The Kindergarten our daughter attends, while exceptional, has been under poor financial management for the past few years and is really struggling. This Trivia Night was to be the main source of supplemental income for the school during this calendar year. As such, the Handsome Australian and I wanted to do as much as we could to help make the event a success.

Tickets to the event were available on a pre-sale basis only and you were asked to book a table of 8-10 people. So I sent out an e-mail pleading our case to some of our closest and most intelligent friends--because we planned to win!! I was pleased to see there was a bit of enthusiasm amongst our peeps and we organised what looked like a very promising brain trust. I booked our table and then started to think about the catering.

The instructions for the night were that the event was BYO drinks and nibbles. As an incentive to our friends to come along on the night, I promised I'd provide all the drinks and nibbles. As this was an event taking place in Australia, I assumed by drinks they meant of the alcoholic variety and I was pretty sure this is what my friends would be expecting. Then the American in me crept in and pointed out that this was a fundraiser for a preschool--a religiously affiliated preschool at that--and perhaps it wasn't appropriate to bring alcohol along to the event. I was a bit perplexed. So I asked the Handsome Australian what he thought and he was pretty certain that alcoholic drinks were indeed acceptable beverages for the evening. No worries then, we'd stock up on beer and bubbles and I'd put together some chips and dips and maybe a brownie or two.

On the evening of the event, it occurred to us that in order to provide drinks for our entire table, we were going to need a large esky (that's an ice chest or cooler for those of you in the USA) to transport and cool the drinks through the evening. So again I asked the Handsome Australian about the protocol of lugging an entire esky of alcoholic drinks into the Hall at the Church that is affiliated with our daughter's Kinder. Would that be too over the top? Was it wrong? I had so many doubts that the Handsome Australian began to doubt the process himself. Perhaps an esky full of alcohol was a bit too much--it wasn't a frat party or a cricket match after all, it was a fundraiser for our daughter's Kindy.

So we hatched a plan, we decided that we'd take the esky full of drinks and leave it in the car. Once inside the venue we'd assess the situation and see what other people were doing and if it was appropriate, we'd rescue the esky from the car and if it wasn't we'd leave it there and every one would be none the wiser.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the Church, we saw blokes carrying eskies. It wasn't just one bloke carrying one esky, it was two blokes per esky. In other words, the eskies were so laden with beverages that they were too heavy for one man to carry. It was on for young and old folks, on for young and old. The Handsome Australian was pleased to see he wouldn't be making multiple trips to the car, and was disappointed that he'd doubted himself.

"What was I thinking?" he muttered. "This is Australia, of course there will be eskies full of beer."

And with that, he and his handsome brother pulled the esky out of our boot and lugged it inside where the evening got off to a promising start...

Sweet, sweet lullaby

2009-08-10T11:41:00.005+10:00

It was the summer of 2003-2004 (here in Australia) and I was heavily pregnant. The Handsome Australian and I lived in a small rented flat that had no air conditioning. It wasn't a particularly hot summer by Australian standards, but when you are in that stage of a pregnancy, even a mild day can be unbearable. The temperature of our apartment and the size of my growing belly made sleeping at night extremely difficult. I was up and down, up and down all night long. I had ice packs, cold drinks, fans and still I couldn't manage to knock out a good night's sleep.

As luck would have it, I didn't have anywhere to be during the days as I'd finished up work several weeks beforehand. This meant that each day was mine to fill as I'd choose. I would generally have a leisurely breakfast before heading out to a shopping centre, cinema, cafe or anywhere that had air conditioning. I'd spend a few hours in the cool air and then I'd return to our flat for a late lunch and a bit of time on the couch. When I'd sit down and put my swollen feet up, I'd put the television on hoping to catch a bit of mindless entertainment--an episode of Oprah perhaps or maybe a really trashy soap opera. Anything really to take my mind off the discomfort and the heat.

Unfortunately, summertime television offerings in Australia are generally sports related and more specifically Cricket related. Each day I'd put the television on and find there was nothing except Cricket, Cricket, Cricket. Nearly five years had passed since my initial introduction to the game, and I'd learned a lot more about the rules, the rivalries and the players (not willingly mind you). I still wasn't a huge fan of the game, but at least I could make heads or tails of what was going on...kind of. So there I'd sit, on our couch in the heat, and watch a bit of the Cricket. Ten or twenty minutes later, I would be fast asleep. I slept for hours at a time with the Cricket in the background. The commentators quietly discussing the play and forever replaying vision of the one and only wicket that had been taken in the last four hours.

The days went on and on in the same fashion. No sleep at night, outings in the morning and Cricket in the afternoon. The Handsome Australian would return home from work and find me fast asleep in front of the Cricket. He was always keen to see how Australia was faring in the Test and would watch more of the match while we ate our dinner. I'd bring him up to speed on the day's play as I'd subconsciously heard it replayed dozens and dozens of times during my nap. He couldn't believe how much I knew. I was naming players, talking about batting averages and throwing in an LBW or two. This lead him to doubt the results of an ultrasound that indicated we were having a girl and he began to predict I was indeed carrying a boy--a son that would play Cricket.

I knew the truth, though. I needed the Cricket. It was the only way I could sleep. I needed to hear the quiet commentary and the sudden bursts of enthusiasm from the crowd. This little cocktail was my key to a few hours of rest. The more I watched, or slept through, the Cricket, the more involved I became in the game itself.

This was an important time for Australia as they were about to bid goodbye to one of their most successful Test Captains in history, Steve Waugh. I'd watched him all summer. He was an excellent batsman and had a very calm and cool demeanour on the field. He had a rugged handsomeness to him and a penchant for sentimentality--wearing the same baggy green cap for his entire career. He was a very likable character. I was very hormonal. I got sucked in.

So there I found myself on the edge of my seat as Steve Waugh took to the pitch of the SCG on the 6th of January 2004 as the Aussies faced a formidable Indian side. I hung on every ball bowled. Each time he had a crack with his bat, I cheered along. When he was caught out by Sachin Tendulkar for 80 runs, I cried. This was the end of an era in Australian Test Cricket history. The Australians ended up losing the Test to India, but it didn't matter because this was Steve's day. His teammates carried him on their shoulders for a lap of honour around the field and I cried some more. I never realised it was going to be so hard to say goodbye to Steve.

Never before and never since have I watched the Cricket as intently as I did that summer. My love affair with Cricket was a brief one, but the knowledge I gained has served me well ever since. Not to mention the respect from the Handsome Australian who was very jealous I got to see Waugh's last innings live and is still amazed to this day when he's got the Cricket on and I come along and remark, "Gee, that Billy Bowden. What a funny little umpire he is. Glad to see they put Stuart Clark back in the side. He might be just the answer we need to retain the Ashes." Then I cuddle up beside him on the couch and fall into a deep, deep sleep.

About the Cricket...

2009-08-07T14:40:00.006+10:00

Australians are a sport loving people. True to his nationality, the Handsome Australian loves sports. He really loves any sport that's going, but among his favourites are Aussie Rules Football and Cricket. I'd say these are the two sports he follows the closest and the ones that the children and I are subjected to watching most frequently.

In another life (before he married an American girl) the Handsome Australian was actually a talented Cricket player. He played with the same club throughout his youth and, if you believe the braggings of a proud father, was asked at some stage to play for Victoria. Turns out the Handsome Australian wasn't involved in Cricket for the fame and fortune--he just liked playing the game and wasn't interested in taking it any further than his local club. So play on he did, filling his summer weekends with bats, balls and beers.

When I first turned up in Australia, the Handsome Australian was still very much involved in his Cricket club. His weekends were consumed with matches and I was left to entertain myself. At some stage, I decided I should take an interest in his Cricket playing and attend some of his matches in a show of support. So I organised to have one of the Handsome Australian's Handsome brothers deliver me to the Cricket pitch one Saturday morning to see my man play. To his credit, the Handsome Australian's brother tried to warn me.

Handsome Australian's Brother: "Are you sure you really want to go and watch a match? Grass growing is often more interesting than Cricket ya know."

Me: "It can't be that bad, it's probably a bit like baseball. I'm sure it will be interesting. Besides, it will be nice to see him play."

HAB: "Okay, look I'll drop you off, but I'm coming back in an hour or so just in case you change your mind. That way you won't be stuck here all day."

Me: "If you insist, but I'm sure I'll be fine to watch the whole match."

HAB: "You do realise the match won't be finished until TOMORROW afternoon right?"

Me: "Um, yeah, tomorrow, yeah. Look just drop me off, I'll be fine."

I got out of the car wondering what the heck I'd signed myself up for. As I made my way over to the Cricket pitch I noticed something straight away. There were NO SPECTATORS!!! Absolutely no one was watching this game besides the players from each team that weren't currently on the field. I imagined a small crowd of people would be gathered and I'd be able to meet and chat to a few of them. No such luck. Not only that, I was probably the only female in a 10km radius. I felt totally out of place.

As I approached the club house, some of the boys took notice of my presence and asked if they could help me with anything. Our conversation went something like this:

Cricket Dude: "Hi there. Can I help ya find something?"

Me: "Oh I'm just here to watch HA play."

CD: "Oh, righto. You must be that American bird he was telling us about."

Me: American bird? Huh? What had he told them? "Yes, I guess that's me."

CD: "Well there he is. He's out there bowling at the moment. He just took a wicket before, but you missed that."

Me: Not recognising the foreign language being spoken to me "I see. Is that a good thing?"

The entire group of boys laughs.

CD: "They don't play a lot of Cricket in America do they?"

Me: "No, no they don't"

CD: "That's not obvious at all."

More laughter from the boys

Me: Laughing nervously. If you can't beat them join them I thought. "Yes, I clearly have a lot to learn. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just go and sit in the shade of that tree and see what I can glean."

Oh my God I thought, what kind of boy's club was this? I sat under the tree watching balls being bowled back and forth, back and forth and the Handsome Australian took another wicket or two. Although I had no appreciation for what that meant at the time. Then, after awhile, I heard the toot of a car horn from the car park and looked up to see the Handsome Australian's brother waving to me. I got up and literally ran to his car. I'd had enough of this rubbish to last a lifetime.

HAB: "So what'da think?"

ME: "What a colossal waste of time! And those guys--they are a bit rude really."

HAB: "I tried to warn you."

ME: "I know, I'll take your advice much more seriously the next time."

HAB: "What'da wanna do now?"

ME: "I think I need a stiff drink."

HAB: "Now, that, that is a good idea."

Off we went to the pub to try and erase the memories of my one hour foray into the world of Cricket. It wasn't until much, much later that I actually began to appreciate the game...

(Did I just say 'appreciate the game'? Uh oh, this can't be good)

It's the guilt really...

2009-08-04T09:31:00.004+10:00

When I first settled in Australia with my husband 8 years ago, we lived in a small flat close to the City. We had no laundry facilities inside our flat itself. Instead, there were communal laundry facilities on each floor of the three floor building. There were top loading washing machines and large clothes dryers just like the ones I was accustomed to back home in the USA. For the first couple of years in that flat, the use of these machines was free. Well, I'm sure it was somehow calculated in our rent, but we didn't have to put coins in the machines or anything. We could just walk into the laundry room and put a load on. So the Handsome Australian and I washed and dried all of our clothes in these machines. We didn't really have much of a choice. We did have a balcony, but there were strict rules about hanging clothes out to dry--this was a bit of an old school chic area and the neighbours--mostly very wealthy widows with lots of time on their hands--weren't afraid to point out the rules to anyone who dare break them.

I was pretty happy with this laundry arrangement. It was a bit inconvenient, not having the machines in our own flat because we'd have to babysit the laundry for fear that it might disappear or some 'helpful' neighbour might chuck all of our fine washables in the dryer (which wasn't always our preference) in a bid to make room for their clothes in the washing machine. For the most part though, it was pretty satisfying. We could do multiple loads at a time (as there were multiple machines) and we could dry most things quickly in the dryers. In a couple of hours, we could knock out all of our laundry for the week.

A few years later, we had a baby. We needed more space. So we bought a little house in the suburbs and moved. Owning our own home was a very exciting prospect--especially the part about having our very own laundry facilities! We would be able to put some wash on and actually leave the house without worrying what would become of it. Yes, these were exciting times!

My mother-in-law and I went shopping for the washer and dryer to fit out my brand new laundry. I was dead set on getting a top loading machine. That's what I'd always known. They were big and easy to use. My mother-in-law had been using a top loader for years and she agreed with me--we both liked their capacity. So off we went to the shops.

We were greeted by a friendly salesman who did nothing but sing the praises of the front loaders. They washed clothes better he told us. They were gentler on your clothes. They were more water and energy efficient. The top loaders seemed clunky dinosaurs in comparison. We were sold. We selected a very pricey front loading machine and then moved on to choosing a dryer.

This is when things got interesting. We had selected a 7 kg capacity washing machine and the salesman suggested I should get a 5kg capacity dryer. Why would I want a dryer that held less than my washing machine I wondered. So I asked. He said I really wouldn't be using the machine that much as I'd put most things on the line so it would only be for smaller items or on a rainy day. Oh really? I'd be putting things on the line would I? Yes, my mother-in-law agreed. That's how she used her dryer--rarely and generally for small items like socks. Well, maybe that's okay for you I thought, but I'm American and I do things differently. I'm going to dry my clothes in the dryer.

Of course, never one for confrontation, I accepted the advice of the salesman and my mother-in-law (hey, can you think of a more powerful combination?) and bought the 5 kg capacity dryer and resolved that what I did in my own home was none of their business and they'd never know if I used the dryer every day or not.

The machines were delivered and I washed and dried to my heart's content. My mother-in-law asked me how the laundry was coming along and I said, "Very well thank you." Then she started to ask me about using my clothesline and telling me how lucky I was to have such a large clothesline already installed in my back garden. Um, yeah, really lucky I thought. That thing was just an eyesore as far as I was concerned.

Then one day she came over and offered to help me with my laundry--I was a lactating new mother and needed all the help I could get. When she took the clean clothes out of the machine she asked me where my clothes pins were for the line. Oh sh*t! The clothes pins. I didn't have any. So I had to come clean. I confessed that I put everything in the dryer. Not a problem, she'd just pick up some clothes pins for me and bring them with her when she visited next. And she did.

I let my mother-in-law hang our laundry on the line when she'd come to help out, but I still used the dryer quite religiously. It wasn't until our little girl began to sit and crawl and loved being outside that I started to consider the clothesline. We were outside all the time and while it was fun playing with my little one, I did feel a bit unproductive. So I started hanging clothes on the line while we were 'hanging out' together outside. Each time I put a load up, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Not to mention all those little baby clothes looked so cute blowing gently in the wind. My little one loved watching the patterns on the fabric and delighted in sitting in my laundry basket. So very cute.

Slowly but surely, I converted to the clothesline and used the dryer less and less and less--except when it was raining and then I dried everything in the dryer. Then the ideas of global warming and climate change started gaining importance and it became clear to me that hanging clothes on the line was really a very practical way to save energy. That's what my grandparents did after all--before everyone owned a clothes dryer. If it was good enough for my grandparents I thought, it should be good enough for me.

If all of these reasons weren't enough to keep me in my clothesline habit, then the State Government started running these ads:

And now every time I think of using the dryer, all I can think of is these black balloons. So I trudge up to my clothesline and hang another load. I do like the idea of the clothesline now, but honestly, it's the guilt from the black balloons that keeps the laziest part of me wearing down the path between the line and the laundry, the laundry and the line.

Different? Yes. Delicious? You're asking the wrong girl.

2009-07-31T23:07:00.000+10:00

I was watching TV the other day when I saw some guy offering people tastes of Vegemite. They were all commenting on how creamy it was. It was definitely Vegemite they said, but different. Turns out it was an ad for the NEW Vegemite. A New Vegemite? I couldn't possibly imagine what could be done to Vegemite to make it more appealing. In my experience, you either love it or hate it. There isn't much of a gray area. You can count me amongst the haters, but still, I was intrigued.

Our entire household isn't full of Vegemite haters. In fact, I'm on my own in my disliking of this salty brown tar paste. The Handsome Australian and both of our children count themselves in the lovers camp. No one more so than my girl. She really LOVES Vegemite. She could eat it all day every day. So it was for her that I picked up a bottle of this New Vegemite at the grocery store this week.

It looks kind of like the old Vegemite, but is screaming out for a name. In fact, KRAFT is looking for some good inspiration in that department and asking consumers to submit their naming ideas. Turns out the original Vegemite was named by the Australian public in a similar fashion way back in 1923. It'll be interesting to see what the Aussies come up with now.

Overlooking this New Vegemite's obvious identity crisis, I decided to serve it to the Vegemite connoisseur in our household this morning. The package promises it will be, "A deliciously different Vegemite experience." Hmm...she'll be the judge of that I thought.

I told her that I found a New Vegemite at the grocery store and asked if she wanted to try it. I told her I'd heard it was creamier than the original. She was excited. She's an enthusiastic kid. "Oh, yes please Mommy. I'd love to try it." So I went to the kitchen to put the bread in the toaster and she came around the corner with a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she said, "Mommy, can I taste a little bit first--before you spread it all over my toast?" Ah ha! It seems 30 seconds of processing by the five year old led her to the same conclusion I had--what the heck could they have done to the Vegemite to make it taste better? She went from enthusiastic to suspicious.

So I put a little bit on the spreading knife and she dabbed her finger in it. She put the finger in her mouth and tasted it. I waited. "Mmmmm...." she said.

"Do you like it?" I questioned.

"Well, it's not sour. I like it sour. This isn't sour. I want the other Vegemite on my toast please Mommy."

Sour? What did she mean sour? Vegemite is sour? How the heck would I know? I've only tasted it a few times and all I remember is that I don't like it. Again, I was intrigued. So against my better judgement, I tasted the New Vegemite. It was creamy and lighter in colour. It tasted like Vegemite, but not as much. It was a more subtle Vegemite flavour. It just didn't have the Vegemite bite.

I hadn't bothered to read the label on the New Vegemite at the store to ascertain exactly how it was different from the original, but after tasting it, I was curious. So I had a read.

Turns out they basically added cream cheese to the original formula. Interesting. That would explain the creaminess and the less concentrated flavour.

It was clearly not fair to taste the New Vegemite without comparing it with the old and so I had a small taste of the original. By 'small', I do mean 'really, really small' because I haven't completely lost my mind.

Oh yes. It was salty and yes, I guess sour in a way. I remembered yet again, why I don't like Vegemite--because it's disgusting. I couldn't help but thinking, however, that much like bad reality television, Vegemite is oddly compelling. I keep coming back to it and marveling at the fact that people actually eat and enjoy it. Then I try it, and it's still disgusting.

The ingredients of the original Vegemite are much more straight forward. Despite it's super concentrated flavour, I think the original has a lot going for it. As it clearly states on the label, it's suitable for Vegetarians and I couldn't help but think--people with milk allergies like my nephews. The New Vegemite isn't as friendly in that way.

If that's not enough to put you off the New Vegemite, then I read this, "Refrigerate after opening. Best consumed within four weeks of opening."

No, no, no. I'm not going to refrigerate my Vegemite. The beauty of Vegemite is that it's low maintenance. I can chuck that tube in a back pack for a day out with the kids. I can pack it in my suitcase and lug it around the USA for months at a time (as I've been known to do). No sir, there will be none of this New high maintenance Vegemite for us. We'll stick to the original, thank you very much.

Wait, did I just say, "we"? I told you, it's oddly compelling. I've just put up a case for why I prefer the old Vegemite to the New Vegemite. Not to mention the fact that I've actually tasted both today. I still don't like it, yet I'm still here talking about it. What can I say, it has a strange power over me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make my way to the KRAFT website to propose my name for the New Vegemite: I Mite Not.

Things are different Down Under

2009-07-30T16:51:00.004+10:00

Let's face it, the Handsome Australian and I are raising a multicultural family. Not only do our children have one Australian parent and one American parent, but they have an entire extended family that is Lebanese and well, there are the Texans on the other side. Yes, a very rich heritage indeed. Given the various influences on their language and diet, I think our children move between these worlds (as I like to think of them) quite seamlessly. They've been lucky enough to be surrounded by a very interested and involved network of family and friends--each one imparting the best bits of their culture to our little sponges. Their vast knowledge of these various worlds came to light recently when their American cousins came Down Under for a visit.

We've been fortunate enough to make annual trips back to the USA since the birth of our first child five years ago. So fortunate, in fact, that our daughter made her sixth trip to the USA just before her 5th birthday. This means that our children have had significant exposure to all things American, and more so, all things Texan. Our daughter figured out long ago that Americans use different words for some things than what we use in Australia. When she is in the USA, she does a good job of converting her vocabulary so that she can be understood by her American cousins. Such a good job in fact, that I don't think her cousins really picked up on the fact that things in Australia are quite different to the way things are in the USA. Lots of words are different, food is different, weather is different--it's all really, really different.

When our Texan cousins came to visit a few weeks ago, I watched as my daughter acted as their unofficial tour guide in this strange and wonderful land. I overheard things like:

My girl: "My Dad's going to take us to the Milk Bar to get an icy pole."
My nephew: "What's an icy pole?"
MG: "Oh, in America you say Popsicle. In Australia, we say icy pole."
MN: "Y'all call Popsicles 'icy poles'?"
MG: "Yep that's right. We do. We also call ketchup 'tomato sauce'"
MN: "Y'all do?"
MG: "Yep, we do. We say a lot of things differently here."
MN: "Why do y'all say those things differently?"
MG: (Authoritatively) "That's just the way they planned it."

Yes, I never said she understood the reasoning behind the differences, I just said she recognised the differences.

It was really fun to see Australia through the eyes of a five year old American boy for two weeks. This kid has a lot of Texas pride and was making constant comparisons between things here in Australia and things he knows in Texas. Australia came out ahead in two areas--my mother-in-law's freshly squeezed lemonade was, "better than my Mommy's lemonade" and the bacon from our local deli that the Handsome Australian fried up one morning was, "better than Houston bacon." Other than that, he pretty much resolved that we should just move to Texas because things are generally better there.

His most surprising observation, after watching my toilet training two year old run around pant less for the good part of two weeks, was, "Mommy even the penises are different here. They are pointy." His mother just quietly agreed and left the whole circumcision discussion for another day. Ah yes, things are different Down Under.

A day at the footy...

2009-07-26T21:03:00.009+10:00

What better way to immerse ourselves back into Australian culture than spending a wintry afternoon at the MCG watching a game of Australian Rules Football? The Handsome Australian's beloved Geelong Cats were playing against the Hawks from Hawthorn and he was determined to be there to watch it all happen.

We've been to the footy many times, the Handsome Australian and I, but we've never been to the footy as a family. Last season, the Handsome Australian took our daughter to her very first footy match and she's been a huge fan ever since. She loved it. It was the coldest, rainiest day of the year and she sat through the entire match. Never complained and hasn't stopped asking to return. For one reason or another, the Handsome Australian hasn't managed to take her back to a game. Geelong plays a lot of night games which we thought would be too late and too cold for her and they play a lot of games in Geelong which means we'd have to travel quite a distance to get there. This weekend though, all the stars were in alignment and it was meant to be.

As for our little fellow, he'd never been to a footy match before. Nearly 3 years old now, we decided he'd probably be able to handle a game of footy--or would at least welcome all the food bribes we'd be offering throughout the match. When we told him the news, he was excited. He kept saying, "Take me to the footy match. I want to go to the footy match." So take him we did.

Knowing that I'd require a small bit of convincing to take our two young children out into the chilly winter air and endure four hours of their antics whilst he was engrossed in the football, the Handsome Australian offered a sweetener--if we got organised, we could leave early and have lunch on Victoria Street in Richmond before the match. As much as I hate to admit it, I was easily swayed by this suggestion. I love Vietnamese food and I love eating it in Victoria Street at my favourite Vietnamese restaurant, Thanh Phong. Just the thought of their tasty spring rolls and a bowl of rice vermicelli with beef and lemongrass and I was in the car wearing Geelong colours before the Handsome Australian even put his shoes on.

Our lunch at Thanh Phong was delicious. The children love the spring rolls, the Handsome Australian digs the prawn rice paper rolls and we all love one of the vermicelli dishes. The staff are friendly and they are great with the kids and most importantly, the food comes out quickly.

Full and happy, the Handsome Australian indicated we needed to get moving and get ourselves to the MCG. Not interested in fighting the traffic that would surely be swarming the MCG at this stage, the Handsome Australian suggested we leave the car behind in Victoria Street and make our way to the stadium on the public transport. So we walked up the top of Victoria Street and caught a train at East Richmond station. Two stops later and we jumped off at Jollimont--right at the doorstep to the MCG.

The Handsome Austrlian forged ahead and queued for tickets. We got General Admission tickets which meant we didn't have assigned seats. The tickets were $20AUD each for adults and the kids were free. Even better!

Tickets in hand, we navigated our way inside the iconic stadium and decided our best bet for seating would be on the upper deck. Instead of climbing the endless flights of stairs with two little people, we found a lift and took it straight to the top. When we walked out into the seating area, it struck me just how high up we were and how immense the MCG really is. Previously, I've always sat on the lower level quite close to the field and the atmosphere has felt intimate. From the top deck though, things looked a lot different. We still had an excellent view of the field, but I spent a great deal of time worrying that the little fellow was going to somehow topple down the super steep seats. Definitely not a place for anyone who suffers from acrophobia.

The children were rife with anticipation as we watched both teams warm up on the field. The Handsome Australian was answering their questions and pointing out different players to them. Before we knew it, it was game time. Shortly after the first bounce, the little fellow curled up in my lap and fell asleep. Yes, he fell asleep. Crowd roaring, whistles blowing, buzzers ringing--none of it stopped this kid from sleeping. It was amazing.

Our girl watched the match intently and peppered her father with questions. Unfortunately, her father had brought along his pocket radio and had the earphones in one ear so he could listen to the commentary of the game. You'd think being there would be enough, but apparently you also need to listen to someone else explaining the play. Watching the game and listening to it on the radio simultaneously is pretty much the extent of the Handsome Australian's multi-tasking capabilities, so I was left to answer many a footy question from the inquisitive five year old.

"Who's that player Mommy? The one with the number 3 on his shirt?" she asks.

"Oh number 3, that's Jimmy Bartel (luckily one of the 5 players I can name). He won the Brownlow Medal once (a bit of trivia emerges from the depth of my brain surprising even me)."

"Does that mean he's a good player Mommy?"

"Yes, he's a good player. He's also really hot!"

"Hot? Is that because he's running around a lot and it makes him hot?"

"Yes, that's it. That's exactly what Mommy meant."

Ah yes, conversations like these were had throughout the match. I'm sure she learned heaps and heaps of very accurate details about the football. What can I say? I'm a true fan.

The match itself was always very close. Geelong was behind for most of the game, but found that little bit of something special in the waning minutes of the fourth quarter. With minutes left, they managed to pull even with the Hawks. For all intents and purposes, it appeared as if the game would end in a draw. Then in the dying seconds of the game, Jimmy "the Hottie" Bartel took a mark. Then the buzzer went. When you "take a mark" in Aussie rules, you are entitled to an uncontested kick of the ball which meant that Bartel had one last kick to make. He only needed to score a single point to ensure a Geelong victory. The crowd inhaled deeply and waited...Bartel kicked the ball and scored the needed point. The crowd erupted. It was so exciting. The Handsome Australian and our little girl were jumping up and down. I was jumping up and down.

Meanwhile, sleeping beauty who'd been awake all of 5 minutes was looking at us like, "What's the fuss all about? How come everyone is screaming and most importantly, where's my apple juice?" Yes, I think the thrill of the game was lost on the little fellow. Maybe next year he'll get more out of it. I'm certainly keen to go again...as long as there are spring rolls involved that is!

Settling In...still

2009-07-24T16:08:00.004+10:00

Wow. Where has the time gone? It's been nearly 8 weeks since the little people and I returned from 2 months in the good old USA. After an initial week of jet lag and self imposed quarantine (seems everyone was convinced we'd brought the swine flu back with us from the USA) we returned to our usual activities...for a week or so. Then school holidays came along and some of our American relatives turned up for a visit. Two weeks went by and another set of American relatives turned up. We've been busy, busy, busy!

Why so many American relatives and why all at once? Well, it turns out that both the Handsome Australian and I have siblings that reside in the USA. In the same Texas city in fact. Yes, it's true. Wait, how did that happen? My sister lives in Texas because well, she's always lived in Texas. The Handsome Australian's handsome brother lives in Texas because, he's married to an American girl too! What can I say? Good taste runs in the family.

So it was the Handsome Australian's handsome brother and his gorgeous little family that arrived first in Australia (two weeks after we returned from the USA). Much like our annual pilgrimage to the USA, they generally make an annual trip here to Australia to visit with the Handsome Australian's family. This makes my inlaws tremendously happy and it makes their extended family even happier. A festival atmosphere begins and there is night after night, day after day of large family gatherings. There is lots of food, plenty of drinks and heaps of laughs. It's a good time. We always enjoy their visits. This year was no different. We had the little ones up late night after night as they spent time playing with their cousins. Bedtimes seem irrelevant when you consider how precious these moments are for these two families living so far away from one another.

As the two weeks with the Handsome Australian's brother came to a close, my sister arrived from the USA with her husband and family in tow. They overlapped the Handsome Australian's brother by one day. So we said goodbye to one set of cousins and geared up to entertain another set. This was my sister's (and her husband's) third visit to Australia and the second one she's made with her children. The children were very young the last time they came, so we had plenty of ground to cover. There was much to see and do in the short time they were here. Here are a few highlights of what we got up to:

*A visit to the Melbourne Aquarium where we saw a very lame performance by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

*A visit to Scienceworks where we saw the special Star Wars exhibition. Star Wars loving brother-in-law was pleased with this.

*A trip to the Tivoli Theatre in Malvern to see a production of Jack and the Beanstalk.

*A trip to Chadstone...the Fashion Capital.

*Swimming at the local indoor pool

*A self guided tour of the Queen Victoria Market in the City.

*Greville Street and Chapel Street walking tour in search of music stores.

*Visits to the many local parks

And because I wanted them to have a complete tour of Melbourne, I also took my nephew to the Emergency Department at Cabrini hospital one weekend at 2am. He was released three hours later without too much drama and was almost as good as new the following day. For his parents, it was an interesting peek at the Australian health care system. What can I say? We like to offer the full package.

This second set of American cousins departed for the USA last Tuesday. So now it's just us here in Australia again. Back to normal....whatever that is. It's been so long, we can't really remember. Time to find our feet in Melbourne again...

More Easter fun...

2009-06-08T07:31:00.008+10:00

Where has the time gone? A month ago, I posted about what we did for Easter which was a month before that. So this post is officially two months late! Shame on me. I hope I can be forgiven considering my recent rigorous international travel schedule. Now that we are safely back at home and tucked inside for yet another Melbourne winter, I've had a chance to catch up.

As I was explaining in my last post about the subject, we have a very special Easter tradition in my family. Each year we get together at my Mom's house in Texas and make cascarones. There is a lot of work that goes into making these which you can read about in my previous post. Once they are made and Easter Sunday rolls around, a group of us head out to my Mom's back garden and hide the eggs for the children to hunt later in the day.

When it's time to hunt the eggs, the children line up at the back door, kind of like horses lining up at the beginning of a horse race. They wait, baskets in hand, for the door to be opened and then they run like the wind through the expansive back garden in search of eggs! The next fifteen or twenty minutes is consumed by little people running around, looking high and low in search of the rainbow coloured treasures.

Once all the eggs have been collected, the children pose for photos with one another. We usually have at least 10 kids, so getting a good group photo is nearly impossible, that's why you don't see one here! After the photos have been taken, the fun really begins. As the Handsome Australian says, "It's on for young and old!" The children and the adults (who have generally tucked a few eggs away in pockets or secret hiding places as a means of stockpiling their own personal arsenals) begin chasing one another and cracking these gorgeous confetti eggs on each other's heads. Madness ensues. Rivalries are borne out. Sitting still makes you a sitting duck. Mostly though, everyone has a great deal of fun and shares plenty of laughter. It really is a lovely tradition and one I'm glad we've been able to be a part of for the last three years. Easter just wouldn't seem the same otherwise.

Welcome to Melbourne!

2009-06-06T13:47:00.004+10:00

We arrived in Melbourne last week amongst much fan fare--I mean I assume those folks at the airport wearing masks were there to greet us. Sure they were taking every one's body temperature, but they spent extra time with us. You know, because we are so important. Okay perhaps it was merely because there were three of us and it takes a bit longer to thermally scan three people, but we felt like rock stars nonetheless. I am certain, however, that we did get some preferential treatment in the Customs line. I declared a stack of stuff and was simply asked to explain myself briefly and was then waved through to the exit. Do you think my screaming 2 year old son had anything to do with the speed of my dismissal from the Customs area? Hmm...it's worth considering. Next time I might just have to pinch one of the little people right before we get to the front of the line so as to expedite the process. You know, after a 15 hour flight that was diverted to Sydney for several hours before finally landing in Melbourne, I'm going to do whatever it takes to shorten the time spent waiting to get out of Customs.

Coming home from the USA is always a trip. Firstly, returning "home" to the USA is always a trip. After living here in Australia for 8 years now, going back to the USA always takes a bit of getting used to. Then after we're there for two months we are used to it. So when we return to Melbourne, it's like a whole new place. It's crazy how no matter how many times we make exactly the same journey, we always experience this little bit of culture shock on both ends. No matter how much mental preparation goes into convincing myself I won't be affected, I always am.

My first shock when I arrived in Australia last week was when the Handsome Australian was not at the airport waiting to collect us. I would have thought that after five weeks away and a flight that had been delayed in arriving by three hours, he'd have had plenty of time to get himself to the airport. Apparently not. See, this whole swine flu mania is sweeping Australia. You think it was bad in the USA back in May, the Americans--as paranoid as they are--have got nothing on the hysteria that is running rampant in Australia. I think at some point the Handsome Australian was convinced we might not even be allowed entry to Australia because of the fear we could bring the flu in with us. He told me over the phone several days before our departure that I should prepare myself for several hours in clearing customs, that there would be heaps of paperwork and that we'd be checked thoroughly before being allowed in. Great. That's something to look forward to after a long flight I thought. He was so convinced that we'd be waiting in queues for ages that he instructed me to dump any food I'd carry with me so I would have nothing to declare. I'm sure this sounded like a good idea to him at the time, but have you ever been in a long ass Custom's line with two hungry kids? How would I explain that the only food I had I'd left in that rubbish bin just back there? Yes, sometimes the Handsome Australian's advice is best listened to and then ignored.

Our actual experience in Customs this time was quite a positive one. We were greeted by people wearing surgical masks not too long after we disembarked from the aircraft. They merely directed us into various lines where the thermal scanning was taking place. This meant two guys aimed a little camera at us for about 3 seconds and then waved us through. No hassles at all.

Passport control was a breeze, the bags came out in a timely fashion and even the pram was waiting for me in the oversize luggage area--something that has never happened before in my entire history of making this journey. Piled all the suitcases sky high on the little trolley they provide, picked up screaming two year old, handed in required paperwork, answered the standard beef jerky question--no I don't have any beef jerky--and then I was waved to the exit. We were free!!

Meanwhile the Handsome Australian was waiting patiently at our home--about a 40 minute drive from the Melbourne Airport for our flight to land before he departed home to come and collect us. This explains why he wasn't waiting in the crowd for us when we arrived.

To assuage the disappointed children I quickly herded them into the airport cafe and bought them some apple juice. I also needed a coffee. You know, when you need a coffee for sanity purposes? Yeah, it was kind of a coffee emergency. Two apple juices and one coffee--$15.90AUD. Wow. That's a lot for three drinks, I don't care where you are. Welcome to Melbourne folks! Welcome to Australia! Prepare your wallets to take a beating.

Yes, it seems two months erases all sorts of memories.

I heart SWA

2009-06-02T09:02:00.006+10:00

My love affair with Southwest Airlines has been long and for the most part--very rewarding. Growing up in Texas with our family spread all over the State, Southwest was our carrier of choice to get to and from the major cities. When I moved across the state to attend Uni, Southwest was my ticket home for Thanksgiving, Easter, Spring Break, etc. I've always appreciated their casual attitude and no-frills approach. Their fares are always reasonable and they've got heaps of specials all the time.

In all my years of flying SWA, I don't think I've ever come across a grumpy SWA employee--and I'm talking everyone from the ticket counter to the baggage handlers to the flight attendants. That's right, these people are nothing but smiles. I can't say that for other airlines I've traveled...Tiger? United? American? Are you listening?

Yes, there has always been something different about SWA. The friendly smile, the willingness to help you out and above all the fun atmosphere they exude. I fondly recall one rainy evening in Austin, Texas when it seemed like every flight was delayed. With a lounge full of impatient passengers, the SWA employees were playing TV trivia games over the loud speaker--and there were prizes too.

I've had so many funny flight attendants, I can't even recall all the stories. SWA flight attendants have a way of making the in flight safety instructions highly amusing. Considering most people fly with some regularity, this small bit of entertainment can make an unusually dull and repetitive speech much more enjoyable,

"While we never anticipate a change in cabin pressure, should one occur, oxygen masks will drop from overhead. Please place the mask over your nose and mouth and breathe normally. If you are traveling with a child, please secure your own mask first then help your child. If you are traveling with two or more small children...well, you've got some choices to make. If it was me, I'd start with the one that has the most potential. You know the one that's going to be the Doctor or NBA player that will support you in your old age. Put their mask on first and then make your way down the line."

That was the funniest line on our recent flight from Dallas to El Paso. The whole cabin was giggling and this guy had more. He had a whole arsenal of jokes. I like their approach and appreciate the way they use humour to put folks at ease and entertain them.

Something happened during our recent time in the USA that further secured my love for SWA. During the initial days of the swine flu mania in the USA, I cancelled a set of flights we were due to take and opted to drive the route instead. I forgot to cancel the flights until the day we were meant to take them and when I went online to cancel them, it was too late as the flight had already departed. This meant I had to ring a number and cancel them over the phone instead. I was annoyed with myself because it meant something that I could easily have done for myself online would now have to be completed over the phone with someone in a call centre. I wondered how long it would take before I got to speak to someone. I reluctantly got the phone and dialled the number. I was greeted immediately with a recording that indicated what the expected wait time would be. Then I was offered an option--leave us your number and we'll call you back. This won't affect your place in line. It just means you don't have to sit on the phone and wait for us. What???? They'll call me back?? Were they serious? This was too good to be true.

So I took them up on their offer and left my phone number. An automated message confirmed my number and told me I'd be called back in approximately 12-17 minutes. I certainly hoped so. I hung up and went about preparing lunches for the children, etc. It was no more than 10 minutes later when the phone rang. The Caller ID showed Southwest Airlines on it. Wow! This rocked. I answered the phone and confirmed I was the person they were looking for and then I was transferred directly to an operator who cancelled my flights and credited my account in about 2 minutes flat. Now, that's service. I LOVE IT!!! Did you hear me folks, THEY CALLED ME BACK!!! Fanbloodytastic!!!

If you've never flown SWA, then you are really missing out on one of the best value for money airlines on the planet. I'm constantly amazed at their innovative ideas--it's as if they actually listen to their customers and give a damn about service. If only such a quality low fare airline existed here in Australia...a girl can dream can't she?

SWA, I love you!

Deep in the Heart of Texas 2-Collin Street Bakery

2009-05-29T07:01:00.003+10:00

Our side trip to Corsicana, Texas continues...

In addition to a real love for their home, my Grandparents also began to take great pride in their newly adopted hometown. They supported the local Theatre and the historic preservation of the town. Each time we'd visit they'd drive us to the see the local sights. Sometimes it would be a new factory being built in town or perhaps an old building downtown that was being revitalised. For ages we had to drive out to witness the construction of the new overpass. I admit, as a kid, some of these outings weren't particularly interesting, but I can now appreciate the great love they had developed for their little town. Over the years, they slowly introduced us to the town's hidden treasures.

One of those "hidden treasures" and perhaps the reason Corsicana, Texas rates on any one's radar is the Collin Street Bakery at 401 W. 7th Street. This family owned bakery founded in 1896 is probably most famous for its DeLuxe Fruitcake which it sells directly from its Corsicana headquarters to about 196 countries worldwide via mail order and more recently, online. Chances are if you've eaten a fruitcake at Christmas, it might just have been one from this little bakery in Texas. Who knew? According to Wikipedia, they make approximately 3 million pounds of fruitcake each year which translates into about 1.5 million individual cakes. Apparently the fruitcakes account for 98% of their sales. That's a lot of fruitcake folks!

On this particular afternoon in May, it wasn't fruitcake that I had in mind though. First and foremost, we were in need of a ladies room. Our Sonic cherry limeades were making themselves known to us. Emergencies of the bladder aside, I thought it would be delightful to stop in at the bakery that my Grandmother used to rave about and share the tradition with my children.

I have very few memories of actually going to Collin Street Bakery. I can recall maybe two occasions when I physically entered their shop, but I do remember my Grandmother having baked goods from there at her house with some regularity. If it was summertime, she'd have an Angel Food Cake for my brother's birthday. If it was Christmas, she'd have a fruitcake. During other times of the year we might have cookies from the bakery. She was very proud of the fact that the little bakery from her newly adopted hometown was world famous.

Not exactly a fruitcake fan, I thought the kids and I might grab some cookies for the road. We pulled into the Bakery parking lot and made our way inside. My attention was peaked by the sign out the front that promised gourmet sandwiches as well as coffee. I don't remember those items being on offer when I was a kid. It seemed as if some things had changed at Collin Street Bakery since I was last there.

As we walked through the glass doors into the bakery, I noticed a nicely arranged cafe style seating area on the right with a self serve coffee bar and to the left were baked goods of all shapes and sizes. The children were excited at the sight of all the different cookie varieties on display. I saw a basket with pre-made gourmet sandwiches which looked delicious. Hmm...this place looked like it had some taste bud pleasing potential.

We waited patiently while a mix of locals and tourists were served by the friendly bakery staff. Things seemed to move quite slowly inside the bakery, but we didn't mind, these cookies looked like they were worth the wait. Finally, it was our turn and we each selected a cookie--the little fellow chose one with M&Ms in it, my daughter chose a chocolate cookie with white chocolate chips and I chose a traditional chocolate chip cookie. As we made our way to the cash register I told the man at the counter I'd like to pay for our cookies. He said, "How many do you have there?" "Three," I replied. "Oh, don't worry about it. Consider them free samples," he said cheerfully. "Really?" I questioned. "Really," he said. So we promptly thanked him and made our way to their cafe seating area and sat down to enjoy our "free samples".

One bite into this cookie and I was in heaven. I'm a baker. I make lots of cookies and cakes at home all the time. I don't usually like to get cookies or cakes from a commercial bakery because they are never quite as good as what we make at home. These cookies were an exception. They were delicious. There was a distinct nuttiness to them. I think they had some ground pecan nuts mixed through them. It just so happens I love pecans. I loved these cookies. Wow. They were so much better than anything I remember eating as a kid. My little people loved them too.

As we sat enjoying our cookies, I took a moment to read the various news articles that lined the walls. Stories that had been written over the years telling the world about this little bakery in the heart of Texas; this little bakery in my Grandmother's adopted hometown. It was as if we were enjoying not just a cookie, but a piece of history; a tradition handed down over generations. It was lovely.

The loveliness didn't end there. We finally made our way into their ladies room and it was the nicest ladies room! There were granite vanities with lovely taps. A nice floral couch welcomed you as you entered. The little people took a moment to relax on it. My five year old said, "Gee Mom, this is like the nicest bathroom I've ever been in." Not too bad for a little pit stop three hours into our last road trip I thought quietly patting myself on the back all the while still thinking about the cookie I just consumed.

Once we'd finished in the ladies room, it was time to bid goodbye to the famous little bakery. We had one foot out the door when I said, "You know, we should really get some more of those cookies." Amazingly, there were no arguments from the little people. So we turned around and got back in line.

Ten minutes later we left the bakery with four dozen assorted cookies carefully packed away in a box to be enjoyed at a family wedding on the weekend. Taking the cookies to the wedding was my daughter's idea and I loved it. I felt like I was taking a little piece of history with us. It would be unexpected, but welcome and it made me feel as though my Grandparents would be amongst us in spirit. I felt them both smile at me as I carefully packed these cookies into our car and we drove slowly out of town, out of their town, and back onto the interstate.

Not sure when I'll be back in Corsicana again, but when I do return you better believe I'll be stopping at Collin Street Bakery.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

2009-05-28T07:00:00.002+10:00

Last week we had occasion to drive from Houston to Dallas. The last of our Texas road trips for the 2009 Tour de Texas. The children were beside themselves at the thought of more time in the car, but I had big plans for them.

Somewhere along I-45 between Houston and Dallas lies the sleepy town of Corsicana, Texas. It was there, deep in the heart of Texas, that I spent many a Christmas holiday and summer vacation in my youth. My Grandparents owned a very regal, historic home on a stately street right there in the middle of Texas.

My Grandmother, an Interior Decorator by trade, happened upon the house one day in her 70s when she and my Grandfather were looking to buy a small rental property in this little town southeast of their Dallas home. As she told it, she saw the house first from the street, told the agent she was interested and waited quite awhile on the porch in the heat while the agent went to pick up the keys so they could have a look inside. She declared she wouldn't return to Dallas until she'd seen the house.

The house had been empty for a long time and was in a bit of disrepair, but my Grandmother saw the possibilities there. She knew instantly that this was the house she'd always dreamed of owning. She told the agent they'd take it--pretty much on the spot. Before we knew it, they packed up their place in Dallas and moved out to Corsicana--a town that was completely unfamiliar to the rest of the family.

The renovations of the house began soon after the move. It was a labour of love and a process that was very interesting to watch. In hindsight, my Grandparents had incredible amounts of energy for their age. They were climbing ridiculously high ladders and painting the ornate ceilings. They did a lot of the work themselves. Slowly, the house was transformed as we watched a lifetime of skill, my Grandmother's impeccable taste and the intelligence of my Grandfather to simply nod and say, "Yes dear" come together to produce a warm, inviting and very dignified home--both inside and out.

I loved that house and its history. I loved its character. I loved its ghosts (my Grandmother was convinced there were several). I loved all the amazing things she'd done with it. Most of all I loved going there and wandering from room to room noticing something new and truly unique with each visit.

Over the years we had many large family gatherings inside the magical walls of their home. We played ball on the massive lawns. We helped hang Christmas lights. We laughed and shared many a meal. It was the perfect family gathering place and my Grandmother, ever the Matriarch, knew that. It's as if she planned it that way.

Eventually at the age of 88, my Grandmother lost her battle with ovarian cancer. My Grandfather lived in their house for another year before he passed away and then the family was left with the task of sorting out their estate. It was decided at the time that the house would be put on the market as no one in the family lived in Corsicana nor did any one have any plans to live there. Once the decision had been made to sell the house, it wasn't long before a potential buyer came along. The story was very similar, the buyer had little ties with the small town of Corsicana, but had fallen in love with the house. It seemed the perfect fit--the house would be sold to someone who was just as passionate about it as my Grandmother had been the day she first saw it.

Now here I was 8 years down the track driving through Corsicana with my two young children in tow. I was excited to show them the house that had meant so much to my Grandmother and my family. I hoped that it would look the same and I'd hoped that the new owners had looked after it.

On the way to their street, I began telling my children stories about the things we used to do at my Grandparent's house. When we exited the freeway my daughter was clearly uninterested in this little side trip, but as we got closer to the house she became more and more intrigued. I swear to you, the house has that power over people. When we turned on to the street, I told my daughter stories about each of the neighbour's houses that I remembered visiting with my Grandmother. She said, "Wow Mom. This is a really special street isn't it?"

Finally, we reached the corner where my Grandparent's house sits on a slight hill. It was stunning. Just as I remembered, but even better. The new owner had done lots of work to the house (which admittedly had fallen into a bit of disrepair as my Grandparents had aged) and he'd even made a few additions. There was a gorgeous glassed in sun room that had been added to the side of the house and a lovely covered parking area that extended from the house to the guest house that sits beside it. Several fountains had been installed in the ample gardens and there was even a gazebo of sorts set off to one side. Flowers were blooming and the grass was a very shiny green. My heart swelled as I thought of my Grandparents, particularly my Grandmother, and what she'd think of these changes to her home. I think she'd have liked them, but I know she'd be thrilled to know that someone who has such obvious passion for the house was now living in it.

We sat parked across the road for several minutes as I surveyed all the changes and relived some of the memories of my youth. I so wanted to take a photo, but my camera was in the boot of the car and I didn't want to look like some kind of stalker. I'm kicking myself to this moment for not getting out and snapping a few photos. What was I thinking?

As we drove away slowly, my daughter asked me, "Mom, if your Grandma was still alive, would she like us to come into her house and visit her?" Tears welled in my eyes as I did a u-turn to take one last look and replied, "Oh darling you have no idea. She would have LOVED for us to visit her and she would have thought the world of both you and your brother."

"Mom, thanks for showing us your Grandma's house. I really liked it and this special little town." were the words I heard as we turned off my Grandmother's street and back onto the main road. "I'm glad," I replied, "It truly is special, and I've got one more thing to show you before we go..."

To be continued

A Taste of Texas

2009-05-27T07:30:00.001+10:00

Texas tastes really good y'all! When our family first hit Texas nearly two months ago now, we were on a mission: Consume as much Tex-Mex as possible. Mission Accomplished! Just ask my thighs, stomach and backside. The proof is certainly there. We've had tacos, flautas, enchiladas, chile rellenos, tamales, and my personal favourite...the humble gordita. There have been beans and rice, and of course a margarita...or three or perhaps more than that. Margaritas aren't conducive to counting. Oh did I forget to mention all the glorious salsa we've consumed and the yummy tostada chips?? OMG how much do we love this food?

So here are a few photos from our Tex-Mex adventures. How will we be able to say goodbye to all this?

Shredded pork tamale with red chile. These were delicious.

That's love on a plate.

Flautas...now can you understand the state of my thighs?

Let's not forget the Tex-Mex standard...the Taco!

I love the hole in the wall taco stands. We got this delicious bag of tacos for $7
The taco stands alone

Our oldest gives these tasty Tex-Mex treats the thumbs up!

This is only a small representation of what we've consumed. I didn't want to torture anyone. (To be honest, I was too busy eating to photograph each meal.)Now I must return to Australia where I can return to a normal body weight and live without temptation. I'll never find anything this good there. =(

Tour de Texas

2009-05-26T23:55:00.005+10:00

During 2009's Tour de Texas, we've done a lot of driving. As Texas is an enormous state, we generally opt to fly. This time I had plenty of internal flights booked with only a few short driving segments. When swine flu first hit the USA, there was a media frenzy and heaps of hype. As a result, I opted to cancel a few of our internal flights and make the same trips in a car instead. This seemed a sensible precautionary measure at the time. As more became known about the flu and the hype died down (and you could finally purchase antibacterial hand gel in the stores again) my choice to drive rather than fly seemed extreme. Some might say, stupid (especially given the long distances and the two small children factor) but in the end I'm glad it worked out the way it did.

By taking to the roads, my kids saw more of Texas than they ever would have from a plane. If you ask them, they probably saw more of Texas than they ever cared to or would ever care to see again. I, however, take comfort in the fact that one day when they are sitting around and complaining about what a lame job I've done as a parent, they'll recall with particular disdain the time, "Mom dragged us across Texas in Pop's car and we saw nothing but tumbleweeds for five hundred miles." It was really only 300 miles, but they'll exaggerate for effect. Teenagers do that. "Yeah" the younger one will reply, "That was so BORING!! What was she thinking?"

Maybe I'm giving their little 2 and 5 year old memories too much credit. Perhaps they'll never remember it at all. I guess that just means we'll have to repeat the exercise annually until they reach an age of awareness. Guess that sorts our holiday plans for the next five years.

Seriously, I think we all enjoyed our drive even though the scenery was at times, repetitive. You know, for like 300 miles. Personally, I grew up making the long drives across Texas to visit relatives, although it's probably been a good 10 years since I've done such a long road trip across Texas myself. I'd forgotten the vastness of this state I so fondly called home for most of my life B.A. (Before Australia). I'd forgotten how the landscapes are so varied and extreme from one side of the state to the other. I'd forgotten the names of the little towns that dot the long highways between the metroplexes. Gems like, "Van Horn", "Welfare", "Ozona". I'd forgotten how I could rely on these towns for their Dairy Queens. I'd forgotten all about the blizzard and the Hunger Buster.

In 10 years, not a whole lot had changed along a stretch of road I traveled with great frequency during my younger days. Same gas stations, same arid landscapes--although I was pleased to see a new massive wind farm perched on the mesas that give some texture to the barren far West of the state. Finally, I thought, something useful in this sandy, wind prone bit of desert. The giant windmills were a welcome distraction for the little people in the back seat as well. It's truly a pity the Handsome Australian wasn't with us to witness them too--he LOVES a good wind farm. Even took me on a tour of one in Australia once. Yes, I'll tell you all about it one day or perhaps you could just have a root canal--it might be just as interesting.

I don't know if it's my age or simply the time I've spent away from Texas, but I really soaked in so much during these drives. I took note of things I'd never noticed previously. I wondered things I would never have thought about in my youth. I appreciated the simple beauty of the landscape--I stopped to smell the flowers. Okay, so maybe I didn't stop for the flowers, but it's been my experience that cactus isn't particularly fragrant--that and can you imagine the first aid disaster that would be two little people covered in cactus prickles?

I did stop for a coffee at the McDonald's in Van Horn, Texas. I ordered a latte from their new coffee menu. As we drove away and I sipped on my latte from Macca's (as we call them in Oz) I thought to myself, "Wow. This is a good coffee." After which I immediately thought, "Wow. I've been away from Melbourne for far too long."

I guess time away from "home"--wherever that may be--makes you appreciate it all the more when you return and sometimes, you might even see things in a different light.

Easter in Texas

2009-05-06T13:58:00.009+10:00

I realise Easter was a month ago, but this is the first chance since we've been on the road that I've had a chance to sit down and put some thoughts together.

One of the holidays I miss the most living in Australia is most certainly Easter. It's not that the Aussies don't celebrate Easter, because they do. It's also a pretty big deal in Australia and in some ways bigger than Christmas with the shops closing and people having public holidays on Good Friday and Easter Monday. It's just the way that Australians celebrate Easter that strikes me as uninspired. Well, hang on a minute, I love the idea of a public holiday and will gladly take those, but after that, the Aussies have a lot of chocolate and that's pretty much it.

I've never seen Easter Egg colouring kits in Australia and I've never known any of my Anglo Aussie friends to actually colour Easter eggs since I've lived there. We've had friends and family who are part of the Orthodox church share their tradition of colouring eggs and then playing this game where you try and crack each other's eggs. Whoever has the last egg that isn't cracked wins the game. It's fun and light hearted, but in my experience their eggs are only one colour--red or maybe blue. They used regular food colouring to colour them and don't have any fancy swirls or glitter or anything remotely fun like that.

We've had the fortune of spending the last three Easters in Texas with my family. All of these occasions have been filled with heaps of fun and my children will have many lovely memories of sharing this special holiday with their American cousins.

What makes our Easter so special each year? A little something called, cascarones. Historically a Mexican tradition, our proximity to Mexico has seen this endearing ritual spill over the border and into our hearts and minds. Like anything worth doing, cascarones take a lot of time, love and care.

Here's how we do it...during the year, my Mom will start saving eggs for us to colour. Each time she uses eggs for cooking, she cracks them a special way (using a knife to break off one end) and drains the egg out keeping the shell mostly in tact, except for a hole on one end. She then rinses the egg shell out and puts it aside to dry. My sister -in-law does the same at her house.

When Easter weekend rolls around, we pull out all the egg shells that have been put aside. Then on Good Friday, we have an Easter Egg colouring session. We get out several long tables and set the kids up outside with aprons on and colours galore. They spend the next several hours colouring the egg shells beautiful colours. Because the shells are empty, they are a bit more delicate--there are always a few casualties, but with 18 dozen or so to work with we can afford a few mistakes. The kids are surprisingly gentle with the eggs and have a great time creating lots of different colours with them. We put the eggs back in the cartons to dry.

They dry overnight and then sometime on Saturday afternoon, we have another egg preparation session. This time we give each kid their own bowl of confetti and they begin to fill each egg with a small handful of confetti. The holes at the top of the eggs are pretty big so it's not too hard for little hands to accomplish this task. We usually direct them to hold the egg over their confetti bowl so that any confetti that doesn't make it in the hole just falls back in the bowl ready for the next egg.Once the eggs are filled with confetti, they are placed back in the carton to await the next step.

I don' t know about you, but I can already see the fun brewing in these eggs!

While the kids are busy with the confetti, the adults generally sit around and start the sealing process. This involves small squares of tissue paper, some glue, a toothpick and a bit of patience. First, we take the glue (your Elmer's variety is fine) and spread it around the opening of the egg with a toothpick.
Then we carefully place a piece of tissue paper over the hole and smooth it down over the glue. This acts as a seal to keep the confetti on the inside of the egg.

Here is a carton of eggs with their seals waiting for the glue to dry. We leave them overnight.

On Easter Sunday, the Easter Bunny comes along and hides all these gorgeous eggs in the garden. This is when the fun really begins...

One down, one to go

2009-05-04T07:58:00.000+10:00

We've now been in the USA for a month. Well, I say the USA, but I really mean Texas. Texas, as we say here in Texas, is like a whole other country. I can honestly say that this saying rings true for me now more than ever before, because when we come to visit Texas we do feel like we are in a whole other country.

It feels as if we've been all over the state, but we really haven't. We've crisscrossed it once now and will repeat this insane behaviour two more times. We've spent time in the wilds of West Texas in the dusty but charming town of El Paso. We've been to the concrete jungle that is Houston and we've spent a week in the absolutely stunning Texas Hill Country (a beautiful area just outside of San Antonio). We've seen family and friends and have gotten up to all sorts. The Handsome Australian was here with us for the first three weeks but has since returned to Australia and the daily grind. We miss him terribly, but there is more fun to be had here and our flight back to Australia doesn't leave for another month. What's a girl to do? Seek out more tacos perhaps? I'm down with that.

I'm attempting to put together a few stories/observations from the trip so far so stay tuned for those in coming days.

If you are reading this in Australia, run out and drink a latte for me will ya? Have some vegemite for my oldest and someone go and ride my son's fire engine at his Australian Grandma's house--he's been banging on about that thing since we arrived here. Who knew a kid could miss a fire engine so much?

The Journey

2009-04-07T11:57:00.002+10:00

Late last week on an unseasonably warm Melbourne morning, we left the comforts of home in a bright yellow taxi headed for Melbourne Airport. This was the beginning of our annual pilgrimage to the USA. The cab driver arrived at our house about 10 minutes before we had requested. Initially I was annoyed because I don't like feeling rushed out the door--particularly when I'm going to be away for 8 weeks. There could be any myriad of things I'm leaving behind if I leave too quickly. When I looked around the house, I noticed that 10 minutes early we were actually ready to depart. I took a moment to pat myself on the back for being so organised and prepared especially given that in the days leading up to our departure my youngest had been very ill and required much of my attention, taking me away from other important tasks--like packing. Somehow though, things had worked out and here we were leaving 10 minutes early.

As soon as we had the cab packed, the cab driver began asking us for directions to the airport. He indicated that there was a large accident on the freeway that had brought it to a standstill and recommended that we consider an alternate, if less direct, route. We put our heads together and came up with something and off we went crisscrossing the outlying Melbourne suburbs slowly but surely making our way to the airport. We had plenty of time to arrive at the airport still, but the fact that the ride there was taking so long didn't help me feel less nervous about arriving on time.

Once at the airport we waited for a short time in the queue and were told by the lovely lady at the Qantas counter that we weren't seated together. She directed us to a service desk where this problem could be hopefully rectified. Another lovely Qantas employee did manage to scrounge together four seats--in the very, very back of the plane. Not my favourite place to sit, but I suppose together was better than being split up.

Customs and security were hassle free and we were amongst the first people to board the plane. The children were excited and so were the Handsome Australian and I. We waited patiently as all the other passengers made their way on to the plane and all the seats around us filled up. We were probably 5 to 10 minutes away from departing when a huge thunderstorm filled the sky over Melbourne airport. The pilot indicated that all the grounds crew would have to go indoors as there was lightning in the area and it was no longer safe for them to be on the tarmac. He told us we could expect a 20-30 minute delay. 20 minutes of driving rain, lightning and thunder that shook the plane and we were still on the ground. The pilot updated us and told us we were looking at another 30 minutes or so before the ground crew would be allowed to return to the tarmac. So we sat there for well over an hour before the whole storm finally blew over and services at the airport could return to normal. In the meantime, our 2 year old had a severe case of ants in his pants. I was wishing they'd turn on the inflight entertainment so we could appease him with some Wiggles, but that simply didn't happen. Personally I was thinking about how in all the years I've lived in Melbourne I think I've only seen lightning there two or three times and I've certainly never heard thunder like that thunder. Of all the days to have such a storm it had to be this one. I was also thinking long and hard about the tight connection we had scheduled for ourselves in LA that was seeming to get tighter with each passing minute. Would we get stuck there? Not the best way to start a flight.

Once we were ready to go, the pilot indicated the flight would be a bit bumpy on the way out of Melbourne as we'd be passing through some of the residual weather from the storm. He'd asked the flight attendants to remain seated for an extended period. It wasn't particularly bumpy or as bumpy as I'd expected given the ferocity of the storm we'd just witnessed on the ground. Of course my oldest needed to pee. She had to hold on for quite awhile. Also, they didn't start the inflight entertainment because presumably that means getting up and turning it on which they couldn't do--so the two year old was a wormy, squirmy mess as well. Only 13.5 more hours to go! Great.

Finally the fasten seat belt sign was turned off and we were free to move about the cabin. The children settled in with their videos and activities I'd packed to keep them busy. Before long the meals were served and it looked like the flight was going to be uneventful after all...or so I thought.

At some point during the flight I stood up to go to the bathroom. While I was waiting in the queue, the woman sitting directly behind me held up a bottle of wine in my general direction. She was just waving it at me. Her mouth was moving but I couldn't hear her. I moved in closer and she slurred, "Open. Open." So I worked out she couldn't open her bottle. I opened it for her and handed it back. Then I looked at her in the darkness and could see she wasn't 100%. Must have had some wine already I thought.

As the flight progressed, the woman sitting behind me exhibited more and more concerning behaviour. She continually ordered more drinks from the unwitting flight attendants until they finally twigged she was off her face and decided not to serve her. It was shortly after that (with about three hours left in the flight) that she vomited all over herself and her seat. The person next to her rang for the flight attendants who came back and endeavoured to clean her up. She stumbled to the bathroom and locked herself in there. The woman next to her indicated to the flight attendant that she'd seen the woman consume at least four mini bottles of wine plus some spirit as well as several pills. The flight attendant grabbed her bags and searched through them to find out what pills she'd taken. What did she find? Sleeping pills. So this woman was on a cocktail of sleeping pills and alcohol and we were three hours from civilization. Very unsettling.

It was at this point that the flight became extremely turbulent. The kind of turbulence that shakes the plane around and knocks unsuspecting people over. It wasn't pretty. So if having the crazy drugged out woman behind us wasn't enough, we now had to watch as the whole episode unfolded with the plane jumping up and down. (I'd also like it noted that the entire flight was turbulent from beginning to end. There wasn't a single moment when the plane wasn't bumping around. It was most annoying.)

Our children had only recently fallen asleep and I was sure all this commotion would wake them. Luckily, it did not. I tried turning up the volume on my headset and pretending I was somewhere else, but that didn't seem to reduce the stress levels too much.

So about an hour after we were due to arrive in LA, we touched down. We had to wait on the tarmac to be towed to the gate and of course as we were seated in the back of the plane, we were amongst the last people to get off. We hurried down to Customs knowing we had a very tight connection to make. We cleared passport control with relative ease and then went to wait for our bag at the carousel. The carousel wasn't moving. The whispers among the staff were that it was broken and in the process of being fixed. Then there was an announcement apologising for the delay. A nice sentiment, but an apology wasn't going to get me to my next flight on time. Finally after what seemed like FOREVER, the carousel began to move. Bags passed by, but none looked familiar. Finally two of our bags came down together. The third bag couldn't be too far behind right? No. We waited an additional 10 or 15 minutes while the carousel started and stopped and then our third bag showed up. At this point, we had about 50 minutes to make our next flight--which required us to travel to a different terminal (three terminals away), recheck our bags and pass through security. I didn't think it was going to happen.

We finally cleared Customs, who thankfully didn't send us to have extra x-rays on our bags even though I was sure that would be on the cards for us given our luck for the day. We maneuvered our way out of the International Terminal and told the kids that we'd be running full speed to the next flight. So there we were, the Handsome Australian pushing a Smart Carte loaded down with all of our bags and me pushing a pram loaded down with our two year old and our four year old clinging to one of it's handles for dear life. WE RAN.

It was at this point I was thankful for my renewed dedication to my personal fitness and could really see the many hours of aerobics classes paying off. I was also astounded that the four year old managed to keep up and I didn't end up dragging her on the ground at any point. She's a trouper.

We entered the domestic terminal and waited patiently in the queue until it was our turn to check in. The lovely agent asked me to sign a disclaimer because we were late checking in and he couldn't guarantee our bags would be on the flight. I told him the sad tale about our delayed flight and our recent arrival from Australia and our lightning fast terminal change (which hopefully explained why we were all dripping with sweat wearing what must have appeared to be our pajamas). I told him bottom line was I didn't care about the bags as long as we made the flight. I wasn't prepared to sit at LAX for the rest of the day waiting for the next flight. So he directed us to the security check point and off we went.

We made it to our domestic connection gate about 15 minutes before we were due to depart. Just as we arrived at the gate, they made an announcement that the flight would be delayed by 15 minutes which I thought was great because that meant our bags had a higher chance of getting on the plane as well.

So just under two hours after we touched down in LA, we were making our ascent over the Pacific and turning back inland on our way to Texas. The Handsome Australian and I were delirious from lack of sleep--we'd each managed under an hour on the first flight and the children were holding up remarkably well for little people who'd both had under five hours of sleep. I think they were just really excited.

We relaxed into the domestic flight and a lovely couple with a 1 year old baby traveling on their lap asked us how old our children were. "Two and nearly five." the Handsome Australian responded. The woman indicated she was asking because she was wondering at what age she could expect her daughter to sit quietly in her seat on a plane like ours were doing. When we told them we'd just arrived from Australia no more than 2 hours ago and the children had very little sleep, they simply couldn't believe it. Looking back, neither can I. I think if it had been any other way, given all the other hurdles along the way, the Handsome Australian and I might have genuinely lost the plot.

So the moral to the story is it doesn't matter how prepared you think you are, you never know what's going to happen along they way and just when you think all the chips are down, things have a funny way of working out. Or they did in this case anyway.

The Pilgrimage

2009-03-26T20:29:00.004+11:00

In a week's time, our family will embark on what has become an annual pilgrimage. Since the birth of my first child, I've returned to the USA once a year to visit family and friends. There was even one year when I went twice (a family wedding--couldn't miss that!). My first born is now just shy of turning 5 years old and this trip will count as her 6th visit to the USA. I sat down recently and did the math. She's spent a total of 27 weeks in the USA which is approximately 6 months and about 10% of her life thus far. These annual trips are adding up. We generally spend six weeks stateside when we go, but this year we'll spend 8 weeks. My children have many lovely memories of these trips. They get to spend time with their American grandparents, Aunties, Uncles and cousins. They get to eat food that we don't have in Australia or in some cases, food we don't let them have in Australia. They learn plenty of American words while we are there and even come back with slight American accents. The maturity and personal growth I've witnessed in both my children as a result of these trips is mind boggling, given their relative ages. It's such a truly rich experience for them. We are blessed to have the opportunity.

Of course these journeys have their down sides as well. The first being the distance. It takes so bloody long to get to the States. 14 hours on a plane is a really, really long time when you are a small child. It's a really, really, really, really long time when you are the parent of said small children. Of course the 14 hours just gets us to Los Angeles and then we have to connect to Texas. I'm not a real fan of Los Angeles, but sometimes I wish my whole family lived there. It would make the trip a little bit shorter each time.

As the children get older, making the trip is easier because they understand where we are going, what we are doing and who we will be seeing, but on the other hand they know what they will be missing from here while they are gone. Like any young preschoolers, they've got plenty of things they do each week--preschool, swimming lessons, dance lessons and play dates galore. All of these things must be organised before we depart. The list of people we need to notify and arrangements that we need to make before we go seems to get longer each time.

It's not just the activities the children miss, it's the people too. The neighbourhood we live in here in Australia is filled with children of similar ages and our children are in constant contact with many of them. I knew I was in trouble when my then 2 year old daughter burst into tears during one of our USA trips and began saying, "But Mommy I miss my friends!!" Was she serious? She was only two!! In hindsight, I think she was serious and she certainly does miss Australia when we are away. At the same time, she has a real fondness for America and often gets emotional about missing family members that live there (emotional attachments that she wouldn't have if we didn't make these trips).

I think the transition between the two countries is another element of these pilgrimages that is sometimes difficult. It's almost as if you have to put your life completely on hold in one place and then try and slot yourself in when you arrive at the other place (where you haven't actually been for an entire year). The same is true on the return...you've got to remove yourself from your new found comfort zone and return to your "regular" routine (that you've been missing from for 2 months). It's enough to make your head spin.

Good and bad, we continue to make the journey. I can't imagine it any other way.

Moomba

2009-03-09T20:50:00.021+11:00

My first visit to Moomba (Australia's largest free community festival) was 10 years ago during my first few months here in Australia. I knew little of Australia or Melbourne then and I had no idea what Moomba was. The Handsome Australian and I met up with a couple of his friends in the city and set about navigating our way through the crowds. My memory of the evening is something like this: There were lots of carnival type rides and games. There were booths where you could buy your typical carnival or festival type foods and it was all set out along the Yarra River in the city. I remember the Handsome Australian and his mates decided we'd all choose three rides and go on them together. I think the aim was to choose the most nauseating ones (you know the ones where they lock you in a cage and spin you vertically and horizontally at the same time?) and see who could ride them all without vomiting. Ah yes, the memories. (This was yet another occasion which proves my theory that youth is wasted on the ignorant.) I think we rode two rides and we were done. We felt sick for the rest of the night. And that has been my memory of Moomba until this past weekend...

On Sunday morning, the Handsome Australian mentioned we should take the kids into the City to Moomba.

Me: "Moomba? Oh yes, that's the festival we went to ten years ago and rode those rides that made me feel like vomiting for several days afterwards. Yes, brilliant. Let's take the kids. They'll love it and I'll enjoy the extra laundry this week."

HA: "It's not just rides you know. They are doing the Birdman Rally today."

Me: "Remind me quickly what that entails?"

HA: "That is when a group of contestants jump off a platform into the river in different contraptions they've built--kind of like costumes but, well, look it's complicated to explain. That's why we should go and see it. The aim is to see how far they can travel in the air before they land in the river."

Me: "Classy."

HA: "Come on, the kids will love it."

Me: "I'll be right with you."

At this point I hit the net and my favourite Melbourne website to find out more about Moomba. According to the City of Melbourne website, there were going to be heaps of family friendly events as part of Moomba. There was an entire area dedicated to free events for the kids including face painting, clowns, arts and crafts as well as a section with rides geared towards the littlies. It was sounding more promising. I liked the possibilities for the kids and I liked the idea of free activities. The Birdman Rally was also going to be running during the afternoon and I knew that would keep the Handsome Australian happy. So I went back to the meeting armed with more facts.

Me: "Okay, we'll go to this Moomba again. There are lots of great activities for the kids apparently."

HA: "See, I told you. Fun for the whole family."

That settled it. We packed up the little people and were off. The drive into the City from our house takes 30 to 40 minutes depending on traffic. While we were driving the Handsome Australian was lamenting about where we'd find a car park in the City. I told him we'd use my favourite City parking garage because it was perfectly located to the action and was relatively unknown. (I don't know why people don't use this particular parking garage because it's so convenient and the rates are reasonable, but it's good for me if it stays quiet! Maybe one day I'll tell you where it is.)

Parking space sorted, we made our way to the Yarra and it wasn't long before we were in the thick of it. The place was buzzing with people. There were families with young children everywhere as well as groups of international students and young teenagers running in packs too. There were lights flashing and music blaring from different gravity defying rides on both sides of the river. Stalls lined the footpath offering food, drinks, information. Creepy clowns leered while their caretakers urged you to have a go 3 balls for $2.

We didn't get sucked in though...

Okay so maybe that's a certain Handsome Australian who can't go past the Beer Can Smash without having a turn. The results were disappointing much to the chagrin of the little people who had visions of giant tacky stuffed toys dancing in their heads.

As Moomba is a Water Festival and uses the Yarra River as its centerpiece, Melbourne Water had a strong representation along one side of the river. We made our first stop in one of their tents where children could make an animal mask using pre-cut materials and simple templates. It was good fun--well my girl and I thought so. The Handsome Australian was busy wrangling the youngest and impatiently waiting. I think he was hoping the Birdman Rally would start soon. My oldest chose to make a fish mask. I think it came out quite well.

Hungry for more craft, the oldest and I slipped next door to ArtPlay where there was meant to be another free craft activity on. (ArtPlay is an initiative by the City of Melbourne to provide opportunities for young people to have access to professional actors and artists who run workshops covering a whole bevy of topics. They've always got something interesting going on and our kids have always enjoyed their workshops.) We put our names down on the list and waited a few minutes for the next session to start. Once it was time, we were shown upstairs where the materials were set out to make a tree frog hat. (Notice the aquatic theme running through the activities?)We spent the next 25 minutes busily constructing the hat. My oldest was pretty pleased with the results.

A finer looking tree frog I've never seen.

At this point, the Handsome Australian was beside himself with angst. He really wanted to get to the edge of the river to score a possie to watch the Birdman Rally. So we left ArtPlay and made our way down to the water. Well, we got as close as we could. Unfortunately, the Rally had already begun and the crowd was very thick. We couldn't see much. The Handsome Australian suggested we put the children on our shoulders so they could see. I reluctantly agreed (I'd like it noted here that the Handsome Australian is a large fellow and chucking a small child on his shoulder's is not a big deal...as for me, well, I was having flashes of physio appointments filling my days and maybe a few visits to the chiro for good measure). As the children precariously balanced on our shoulders and we stood on our tip toes, they could see the bizarre people jumping into the river. I could see nothing except a really nice pair of Skechers that kept kicking me in the face. After two contestants had a go, I was buckling under the weight. I expressed my inability to stand there any longer with 5 year old child on my shoulders and the Handsome Australian relented and suggested that perhaps we grab some lunch.

Food snob that he is, he turned his nose up at the "festival food" and insisted that we eat in one of the restaurants in Federation Square. So we made our way up the river to Fed Square and had a look for a kid friendly place. Historically, I haven't had much luck with the restaurants in Fed Square. I think on the whole many are overpriced and there really isn't a place you can get something simple with the kids. Or so I thought...

The Handsome Australian chose Transport Public Bar as our lunch spot.

It was packed with people, presumably all in the city for Moomba as well. He ordered our food at the bar and then waited for our number to be called while the kids and I sussed out a table outside. We finally ended up sharing a table with another family because there was no where else to sit. They were English tourists. A Canadian sat on the table behind us and there were a handful of German backpackers a few tables away. So we found Melbourne's tourist hot spot!!

Lunch was a few plates of fish and chips which the Handsome Australian deemed delicious. The kids enjoyed them too. And we also had a plate of dips to share--the dips received mixed reviews.Personally, I wasn't hugely impressed with our meal. The Handsome Australian indicated this was typical pub fare and was a pretty reasonable standard for such food. I indicated that 1. the key ingredient to a good pub meal was missing--a drink and 2. perhaps I'm not a pub girl. In hindsight, it was probably an easy place to take the kids and the most kid friendly food we were going to find in Fed Square so it wasn't all bad.

After we refueled, we decided to cross the bridge and work our way down the other side of the Yarra where there were still more sections of Moomba to explore. We walked past beach volleyball demonstrations, a blow up soccer pitch, more food, and rides as far as the eye could see. The little people were pulling on our pant legs asking for a turn on some of the rides so we decided they could choose two. The most obvious choice was the Magic Circus which was a three story fun house of sorts. It had all sorts of tricky mirrors, moving sidewalks, funny steps and a twisty slide that spat you out the bottom with an impressive amount of inertia. They loved it.
They followed this up with a ride on a very tame roller coaster that was shaped like a little caterpillar. It was very, very tame. (Read: lame for Mum and Dad, but on the upside not nausea inspiring).

Wow! All that action it was surely time for another food break. The oldest had her eyes on some fairy floss (that's Cotton Candy for the Yanks among you) and the little fella was keen on an icy pole (that's a popsicle). The Handsome Australian and I found a lovely little stall that was selling Byron Bay Organic Donuts. I don't know how they were organic, but somehow sticking the word organic in front of them made them sound hearty and less likely to lead to heart disease. Did I mention they were filled with chocolate? Yes, that was another selling point. So we got a couple to share. We found a spot under a shady tree and took a moment to enjoy our treats. They were delicious. We did a bit of people watching and then decided it was time to pack it in and head home. So we took one last look down the mighty Yarra and headed for the car.

Happy to report a good time was had by all and there was no vomiting. What more can you ask for?

And then the rains came...

2009-03-04T21:09:00.003+11:00

Monday was a reasonably nice day here in Melbourne. The weather was warm but not excessively hot and the air was still. I spent the day at my daughter's Kindergarten playing in their sandpit, singing songs, eating lunch at miniature tables and taking in the view from a four year old's perspective. We had a full day and when we returned home, the routine of dinner, bath, bed time took over and I had little time to think about the weather or the news. Then at some point my mobile phone beeped indicating I had a new text message. I picked it up and read the following:

From: VIC POLICE
Extreme weather in Vic expected Mon night & Tues. High wind & fire risk. Listen to Local ABC Radio for emergency updates.

Amazing. A text message sent directly to my phone to warn me of an impending storm and increased fire danger. I have always been impressed with Australian bureaucracy's ability to adapt and change quickly. There was great debate following the Black Saturday fires as to whether or not an official warning system could have saved some of the lives lost. That was a mere three weeks ago and now when faced with similar weather conditions Victorians were receiving these alert messages on their mobile phones. Whether these messages reached the appropriate targets or were the appropriate medium will be debated in the aftermath, but for now, I'm just bloody impressed they organised themselves so quickly.

When the Handsome Australian arrived home, he also brought news of impending storms and gale force winds bound for Melbourne. He spent a bit of time gathering up loose items in the back garden and storing them in garage so they wouldn't become dangerous projectiles. I collected the laundry from the clothesline noting the deep orange sunset and the absolute stillness of the air that surrounded me. It was really still. I had a sinking feeling. Was this the calm before the storm? That text message I'd received earlier had given me a real foreboding feeling. I'd seen the damage that a fierce wind and fire cocktail can produce--our whole community is still reeling from Black Saturday. I shuddered when I thought of the news I might wake up to the following morning.

Back inside, the evening rolled along and each time I looked out the window the trees sat there silently. No rustling, no swaying, just still. I started to wonder if the warnings were all a bit of hype. I headed off to bed and drifted off to sleep. I was woken a short time later by the sound of the wind whistling through the trees outside, the branches scraping against the window panes. It was really, really windy. I had a difficult time falling back asleep as I thought of the winds and the fire and the people whose homes and lives might be in danger.

On Tuesday morning, the winds were still whipping around outside. It was a blustery day. In many ways it reminded me of the desert southwest in the USA where I spent my youth. Sand slapping you in the face as you walk down the road, bits of rubbish blowing along. The only thing missing was the tumbleweeds. I suppose it should have been comforting, this weather. It should have reminded me of my roots and where I'm from. It's not pleasant weather, but it is so typical of my hometown. On this day though, every gust made me cringe. I found myself hoping against hope that we wouldn't see a repeat of Black Saturday.

On the whole, the news on Tuesday from the fire fronts seemed to be stable. There weren't any fires jumping containment lines and the fire fighters seemed prepared. It was just a bit of a waiting game. Then Tuesday evening, the winds picked up again and really whipped about. The Handsome Australian and I were sitting in our lounge room listening to the wind howl, when something unexpected happened. It began to rain. It wasn't just a light rain either. It was a good hard rain. The Handsome Australian and I looked at each other and simultaneously let out sighs of relief. Finally the rain has come. I can't remember the last time it rained here in Melbourne.

The rain fell off and on all night and we woke to gray skies this morning. The kids and I had to wear jackets most of the day as the temperatures have cooled right down. The rain continued to fall throughout the afternoon and early this evening. On my drive home tonight I was tuned into ABC Local Radio when the news broke that one of the major fires that had been threatening the towns of Warburton and Healesville had officially been contained. The text messages from relieved residents of that part of Victoria were coming in thick and fast and the ABC host was reading them out. Some people had evacuated 3 or 4 times during the last 10 days as the weather and the fire menaced their communities. Psychological exhaustion has reigned and this was the first good news these communities have had in what seems like a long, long time.

Let's hope this is the beginning of the end of this bush fire season.

Amen.

A Celebration of Community

2009-03-01T21:26:00.019+11:00

During the recent bushfires that have devastated parts of Victoria, chaos ruled. Fire raged through communities burning everything in its path leaving trails of devastation that have since been described as "war zones". In the midst of the fires and the ensuing aftermath, there has been one voice that has remained constant. One voice that has comforted the survivors, one voice that has mobilised the community and one voice that continues to keep its eye on the ever present fire threat, and this is the voice of ABC Radio.

ABC Radio, which serves as the Emergency Services Broadcaster here in Australia, has worked tirelessly to keep the public informed during this bushfire season. The ABC works in conjunction with the CFA and the DSE to provide accurate and up to date fire threat information to communities all over the state. This fire season has been different to others though, with the Black Saturday tragedy in the forefront of every one's hearts and minds.

During the Black Saturday crisis and in the crucial days that followed the ABC served as a conduit for the community--matching up those in need with those who had something to give. The ABC hosts broadcast live from bushfire stricken areas and brought us the stories of the people who had survived. They shone a light on their needs and encouraged us to give whatever we could. As a community, we responded and the response has been overwhelming. In many cases, offers of help have been so overwhelming that some donations of food, clothing or other items have been turned away as relief agencies struggle to process this unprecedented outpouring of goods.

So it seemed fitting today that the ABC decided to celebrate the communities it serves and thank them for their recent support of the bushfire victims and survivors. As the ABC described on their website, "In the aftermath of the bushfires, the ABC Community Concert is a thank you to all Victorians for the tremendous support they have shown towards those affected by the fires. " What better way to celebrate the idea of community than with a free public concert?

And it was this free public concert that had the Handsome Australian and I rolling out of bed in the wee small hours of the morning to organise our brood and head to the Sidney Myer Music Bowl in the heart of King's Domain Gardens. Until today, our family has never attended an event at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl and I was looking forward to it.

The ABC Community concert was to run all day at the SMMB, with the first half of the day dedicated to children's entertainment and the second half of the day geared towards the adults. Our little people had been buzzing all week in anticipation of the concert. They were particularly keen on the promised appearance of Dorothy the Dinosaur and The Fairies.

The gates opened at 9:45am and I'd say we pulled into a sweet parking space overlooking the Yarra river on Alexandra Parade right around that time. The first sign it was going to be a nice day was the fact that the parking time was unlimited as the parking signs indicated there were only restrictions on those particular spaces Mon-Fri. Hooray! Free parking! That's such a bonus in Melbourne.

We unloaded the little people and all their gear (Does this stuff multiply in the boot? There is so much of it!) and we crossed the road heading for concert. The crowd was mixed as we made our way along the Tan and then uphill to the SMMB. There were plenty of morning joggers and other fitness fanatics making their way around the fabled path in addition to the plaid blanket carrying, pram pushing, overloaded family types like ourselves.

As we arrived at the gates of the SMMB, there was a patchy green (we are in drought after all) hill sloping gently downwards toward a stage with limited undercover seating directly in front of it. I loved the venue immediately. It was architecturally interesting, open air and spacious. We decided to fore go the covered seating (which meant actual seats) and instead chose to spread out in the grass with all our goodies.
It's here that I'll admit we don't actually have a plaid picnic blanket like EVERYONE else in Melbourne seems to. You know the lovely ones with the synthetic backing that keeps the damp out. The ones that fold up into nice little squares and tuck neatly inside your picnic basket. Yeah, we don't have one. So instead I pull out our DORA THE EXPLORER fleece blanket (a thoughtful gift from a well meaning Aunt) and feign sophistication while sitting squarely on top of Dora's bilingual little head.

The crowd was teeming with under 5s and their weary parents who made a beeline for the coffee vendor up the back. There was never less than 20 people waiting for a hit...I mean a latte. Once the show started though, adults and children alike were mesmerised by the parade of characters before them.

Jay Laga'aia and Georgie Parker of Playschool fame led the charge. They treated the kids to several songs before bringing on Dorothy the Dinosaur (of Wiggles fame). Our son was transfixed (Wiggles aficionado is an understatement) and loved dancing along with Dorothy. (Dancing is always easier in your sister's bejeweled plastic pumps: see below)

The Fairies came next with their friends delighting all the fairy wannabes in the crowd.

They were followed by the truly Aussie Koala Brothers who had children jumping like Kangaroos.

Concert Headliners B1 and B2aka The Bananas in Pajamas rounded up the entertainment for the morning and left the crowd wanting more. More lattes that is...

Because judging by the empties lying around it was time for another round.
This time for the kids. Can you say babychino? Because any self respecting 18 month old Melburnian certainly can.

Yes, a good *coffee laden* time was had by all!

Good on you ABC! We are pleased to be a part of your community!

Impressed by The Press Club

2009-02-26T16:02:00.006+11:00

The first thing I noticed about The Press Club as we were being shown to our table was the understated simplicity of the decor. Tables were dressed in white linens that stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the room where warm browns and oranges ruled. The dining room itself has a very angular look with all the tables being a square or rectangle shape.

We had a lovely table for two near a window overlooking Exhibition Street. Bench seats ran along the wall with sleek wooden chairs holding the opposing positions. Squeezing between the tables to reach the bench seating was a delicate exercise. The tables are very close together and getting in was just the first dilemma. Trying not to eavesdrop on your neighbours was the next. I listened word for word as a fellow expatriate in Melbourne for business, talked endlessly about her life in Sydney. She was a very interesting woman, but I did take note that this was not the place for delicate discussions with your partner or the unveiling of secret business plans unless of course you wanted to share that information with the closest 10 or 12 diners.

Once we'd settled in at our table, I noticed an unmarked envelope with the restaurant's logo on the back. The Handsome Australian noticed it too. He picked it up and opened it to peek inside. There was a card inside that he opened and read and then said, "Oh, this is actually for you." He handed it across the table and I had a look. It read, "Welcome to The Press Club. We hope you enjoy your evening and have a wonderful birthday. Best Wishes from our staff." Wow. That's a nice touch, I thought.

Before we could blink, the sommelier approached and asked us if we'd received the card. We said yes and thanked him and he wished me a Happy Birthday too. He got us sorted with some sparkling San Pellegrino and then our waitress appeared dressed in the starched long sleeve orange collared shirt and brown apron that identified the staff. She gave us the menus and explained their layout. On one side are your typical entrees and main courses and on the other side there is a selection of set menus or Kerasma where you determine how many courses you'd like to have and the boys in the kitchen do the rest. They'll pick and choose your dishes for you. Then on a separate sheet, she presented us with the "Symposium" menu which is Chef George Calombaris' 6 course degustation menu. As the waitress explained, "George" as she familiarly referred to him, has taken all of his favourite flavours and tastes from his travels around the world and put them together in this menu. "It's George's baby," she remarked.

So we were left to ponder our options and the tight table arrangements came in handy as we had a bird's eye view of what other people were eating. All the food looked amazing. There wasn't a single thing I saw that didn't appeal to me. I could have eaten any of it. The Handsome Australian and I decided we'd go the whole hog and see what "George's baby" was all about. When the waitress returned, we told her we'd be having the Symposium menu with the wine match. "Easy," she said as she collected the menus and went to inform the kitchen.

She wasn't gone for long and returned with the most cutlery I've ever seen set in one place setting in a restaurant. There were three forks, two knives, a spoon..."We are going to be busy this evening aren't we?" I asked. "You certainly are," she replied with a smile. Our odyssey was underway.

The rest of the evening went like clock work. The sommelier would appear with the wine selection for the course and would give us a brief explanation of the origins of the wine, flavours we could expect to find and why he'd chosen it to match the particular dish we were about to have. He was knowledgeable, friendly and very informative. We enjoyed his visits. We also enjoyed his wines.

As soon as our wine loving friend would step away from the table, our reliable waitress would return and present us with our food. Each dish came with an explanation of ingredients and some required finishing touches at the table which she performed with grace and confidence. We wanted for nothing the entire evening.

Choosing a favourite course from the six is a difficult task (I'll spare you the entire list of courses here but if you are interested go to the The Press Club website and follow the "Menu" link to the "Symposium" menu for complete details), but I adored the chicken and apricot 'horiatiki' while the Handsome Australian was a fan of the slow cooked duck in olive oil, mushrooms, garlic, parsley, Greek kafe and sokolata soil. Both dishes are difficult to describe and walked the fine line between food and art. In a word, delicious.

We ended our meals with coffees, more out of habit than necessity. We were well and truly full to the brim with good wine and good food. It was well after 11pm when we finally settled the bill and strolled out of The Press Club to the sound of a final birthday greeting from our waitress who said, "Oh and Happy Birthday again, Ma'am". I was with her until she hit me with the "Ma'am" at which point I was looking over my shoulder for my mother.

I'm not in a hurry to celebrate another birthday, but if it involves another evening at The Press Club, I might be persuaded to age more rapidly. I'm only kidding...I think.

Ah-ha! The Press Club

2009-02-25T22:22:00.005+11:00

When the Handsome Australian rang to make a dinner booking at The Press Club, it was obvious Friday or Saturday nights were not available for several weeks. Keen for a night out and not wanting to postpone our plans, we settled for a Sunday evening. At the time of making the booking, the Handsome Australian was asked if we were celebrating a special occasion. He responded in the affirmative as I'd recently reached a chronological milestone (of which we will never speak again...got it?) and this dinner was partially a tribute to my reaching said milestone. Done. Sunday evening at 7:30pm we had a date with The Press Club.

So when Sunday evening rolled around, we caught a train into the City and walked the short distance from Flinder's Street Station (the heart of Melbourne's rail network) down to the corner of Flinder's and Exhibition Streets. I knew very little about The Press Club before we made our dinner booking. I'd heard it described as "modern Greek" and I recognised Owner and Chef George Calombaris from his appearances on channel ten's "Ready Steady Cook" (a somewhat average cooking show that my four year old adores). Beyond these little bits and pieces of information, I had very little to go on.

As we approached the corner of Flinder's and Exhibition Street, the Handsome Australian began to explain to me that the building which now houses The Press Club was previously the home of the Herald and Weekly Times, publishers of Melbourne's Herald Sun Newspaper. The building is architecturally significant and is heritage listed. This is when the little cogs in my head began to turn and the light bulb switched on--the name! That is where the name for the restaurant came from. I never knew the history of the building until this moment and had been wondering why a "modern Greek" restaurant would be called The Press Club. There you have it, the eureka moment. As I explained my excitement in making this connection to the Handsome Australian, he looked at me sideways with a broad smile as if to say, "Aw you silly Texan. You've still got a lot to learn about this city."

History lessons aside, I knew we were heading into somewhere special when I saw the gold plated signs out the front of the building with the words The Press Club printed on them. The signs were simple and elegant but bold at the same time. The doors to the building were heavy and large and seemed the appropriate entrance to the grand adventure on which we were about to embark.

We arrived just after 7pm and since our booking wasn't until 7:30pm the hostess asked if we'd like to have a drink at the bar while we waited for our table. We had all ready made cocktail plans on our train ride in to the city so we were more than happy to oblige. A well dressed host in a business suit, collared shirt, but no tie directed us back out the doors, across the entry way and into The Press Club Bar.

The bar was long and narrow and very quiet on a Sunday night. We sat down on some couches near a window and surveyed the Bar menu. When I say menu I should say novella--it was a book. The wine list was expansive if not exhaustive--there were wines from all over the world: red, white, sparkling--the choice was ours to make. There were liqueurs, aperitifs, digestives, ouzos and a couple of pages of cocktails. We chose a couple of cocktails and settled in for a little while.

The service in the bar was a bit slow and the cocktails left us unimpressed. Having said that, ordering cocktails from their Bar menu was probably the equivalent to ordering a vegetarian meal at a steakhouse--it's not their speciality and it's going to be average at best. Note to us: next time order one of the amazing wines, you'll be better off.

7:30pm rolled around and we were itching to ditch the bar and get to the main event. The Handsome Australian gave the bartender a nod and asked him to check on the availability of our table. He came back and told us jokingly, "I had to twist some arms, but I got you in." We provided the requisite laughter he was after and he personally escorted us out of the bar and back across the entry way into the main restaurant.

This is when the evening really began...

Hard pressed to decide

2009-02-24T09:32:00.005+11:00

Recently, the always hard working, Handsome Australian was commended by his employer. To show their appreciation for his dedication and capable performance they told him to take his wife to dinner--their shout! These are the kind of rewards I like...ones that include me having a nice dinner somewhere with my handsome food loving husband.

In Melbourne, the proposition of a nice dinner out on the town can be the beginning of a dizzying search for the perfect place. It's so difficult to narrow the choices down to a single venue. Melbourne has so many SPECTACULAR restaurants that choosing only one is well, next to impossible. A lot of careful planning goes into such an important decision.

When faced with this dilemma, the Handsome Australian will always defer to his food bible, The Age Good Food Guide. He'll carefully peruse the pages and thoughtfully consider the advice of John Lethlean and his co-conspirators. Once he's zeroed in on a few possibilities he'll suggest a few to me whilst reading highlights from the review the restaurant received. There will be a debate and most likely a stalemate.

It's at this point, we bring in reinforcements. I'll begin to ring like minded food loving friends and ask them about their recent experiences. Have they been anywhere new and interesting? What's the word on the street? Any hidden gems we should consider?

It was the advice of a friend confirmed by the Handsome Australian's youngest brother that led us to choose The Press Club for our special night out. Of course The Press Club's inclusion in The Age Good Food Guide and its receipt of various awards in said guide was what really cemented the deal with the Handsome Australian. What can I say? He loves the critics. I love the people. In this particular instance--the critics agreed with the people.

The stars were in alignment and we managed to get a booking. Would The Press Club be all that we'd been promised? Only time would tell...

Australia's National Day of Mourning

2009-02-23T16:13:00.004+11:00

Yesterday, Australians observed a National Day of Mourning to honour and remember those who lost their lives in the Black Saturday bushfires only two short weeks ago. The memorial ceremony was held at Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne. Families that have been affected by the bushfires were invited to attend as the political, religious and community leaders of Victoria and Australia paid their respects to the victims of the fires. The ceremony was broadcast live on television stations across Australia.

The Handsome Australian and I watched with great interest and sadness from our lounge room. It has been a long two weeks here in Victoria and the National Day of Mourning was a time to reflect on all that has happened. The ceremony itself was somber at the start. Various dignitaries took turns placing flowers in a giant wreath at the base of the stage. We heard many speeches amongst them were sentiments from our Prime Minister, from the Premier of Victoria, from Princess Anne who spoke as a personal representative sent by the Queen, a selection of religious leaders and many others shared their thoughts.

As often happens in life, the images and music more than spoken words themselves evoke the most emotion. This was very true in our lounge room yesterday afternoon. Tears began to roll when I saw the SES and CFA members glowing in the dimly lit audience in their reflective uniforms. These brave men and women stood out from the rest of the crowd, their faces said so many things. In some you saw weariness, no doubt from weeks spent battling these blazes. In others you saw the pain of loss--perhaps they were mourning a friend, a neighbour, a family member? In others still, you saw glimpses of hope and smiles of strength. In all of them, I saw the faces of heroes.

The other truly poignant moment for me personally was when Bruce Woodley and his daughter began to sing the very popular, "I am Australian" which Woodley wrote 22 years ago, but had rewritten to suit the occasion. I love this song at the best of times because I think it truly celebrates the Australian spirit and does an excellent job of capturing what it is to be Australian. Its use in the memorial service was extremely touching, particularly when Bruce welcomed survivors of the Kinglake fires David and Merelyn Carter to join him on the stage and sing the new lyrics he'd penned only a few days before. And it's this song, that I want to share with you.

I looked all over the web for some video of the song being sung at the memorial service and this is the best I could come up with. It was filmed by an audience member and the footage is blurry and somewhat shaky, but it's not about the image it's about the music and the lyrics. So take a few moments to listen with your hearts.

For those of you who aren't as familiar with the song as most Australians are, here are the lyrics as it was sung yesterday:

We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come
We share a dream and sing with one voice:
I am, you are, we are Australian

There are no words of comfort
that can hope to ease the pain
Of losing homes and loved ones
the memories will remain
Within the silent tears you'll find
the strength to carry on
You're not alone
We are with you
We are Australian

There are so many heroes
Who's stories must be told
They fought the raging fires of hell
and saved so many souls
From the ashes of despair
our towns will rise again.
We mourn your loss.
We will rebuild.
We are Australian.

We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come
We share a dream and sing with one voice:
I am, you are, we are Australian.

I'm the hot wind from the desert
I'm the black soil of the plains
I'm the mountains and the valleys
I'm the drought and flooding rains
I am the rock, I am the sky
The rivers when they run
The spirit of this great land
I am Australian.

We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on earth we come.
We share a dream and sing with one voice:
I am, you are, we are Australian

Heartache

2009-02-16T21:41:00.001+11:00

The sky is hazy and the rising sun radiates a deep orange colour all over the landscape. As you step outside, you can smell it--the thick smoke of a fire. In other circumstances, this familiar smell would take me back to the campfires of my youth. Time spent camping with family or celebrating with friends when everyone would gather happily around the fire, warming their hands, telling stories, laughing. Yes, those were happy times. Today though, the smell of this smoke means something else. Today it means destruction. Today it means loss of life. Today it means people are homeless. Today it means towns have disappeared completely off the map. Today it means heartache.

The bushfires at the centre of this heartache began on Saturday, 7th of February 2009 (now known as Black Saturday), and have continued to rage with varying levels of intensity since. As I write this today, there are still six large fires burning out of control according to the CFA (Country Fire Authority) website. Rural areas on the fringe of Melbourne have spent the past week on tenterhooks as bushfires menaced their communities and threatened their lives and property. While most of the fire activity seems to have lessened in recent days, the fire season is by no means over and the threat of more fires is still very real.

I've never lived this close to natural disaster before. While our home and those of most Melbournians have never been under threat during these awful fires, our community has certainly felt the impact of the fires on our rural neighbours. I've watched endless hours of news footage, heard stories of survival and stories of peril, but I will never fully understand the terror that befell these good people of Victoria only a short week ago. To me, such a thing is incomprehensible.

Though we can't fully appreciate the feeling of barely escaping with your life or watching your family home burn to the ground, we can empathise with the tragedy. I've been so impressed with how actively Melbournians, Victorians and Australians more broadly have come together to support these small communities who have been ravaged by fire. It's impossible to set foot in any shop, school or community centre here in Melbourne and not see something relating to the Red Cross Victorian Bushfire Appeal. EVERYONE is trying to do SOMETHING. Individuals are offering accommodation to displaced families--many times in their own homes. Businesses are donating goods and services to the survivors. Local communities are collecting donations of any imaginable item. Farmers are rounding up hay and feed for the livestock and native animals that have been affected. The community is coming together.

The often argumentative tone of talk back radio has taken on a renewed cooperative spirit with people calling in with offers of help and responses to need. The media have become more than storytellers or reporters--they've become a conduit for the disaster response. Alerting the wider community to the specific needs of the survivors, the conditions of the affected areas and helping us all come to terms with the reality that now engulfs us.

While I know the days ahead will be full of obstacles and stumbling blocks for these shell shocked communities as they begin to pick up the pieces, I do have faith that the greater Melbourne community, the greater Victorian community, the greater Australian community and the greater world community stands prepared to help in any and every way we know how. This, after all, is the essence of the human spirit.

From the Shadows

A world of ashes leached of life.

The colours swept away.

A paradise lies lost beneath a shroud

Of ashen grey.

And yet in time the veil will fall.

The streams once more will flow.

And from the shadows 'tween the trees

New life will surely grow.

Poem by Graeme Base (The Sunday Age 15 Feb 2009)

Mother Nature's Fury

2009-02-08T22:58:00.003+11:00

Yesterday in Melbourne, the temperature hit 46 degrees Celsius which is about 115 degrees Fahrenheit. Hot winds howled through the trees and the oppressive heat slapped you in the face each time you went outdoors. Our children had been invited to two birthday parties. While we attended both parties and conversed with our neighbours and friends about the awful heat and the influx of ants we've all had in our houses, people in the rural communities of our state were quite literally running for their lives and fighting to save their property.

It wasn't until the early hours of this morning that Melbournians and the rest of Australia began to understand what had unfolded in rural Victoria yesterday and last night. Entire towns have been decimated. At the current count 84 lives have been lost with more bodies expected to be found in the rubble that remains. More than 700 homes have been destroyed. Even now as I type this there are dozens of fires still raging across the state threatening more homes and more lives. This is a disaster whose immensity we still do not fully know.

Our family has been glued to television screens and radio broadcasts today listening as more and more tales of horror are told. The pictures of the devastation are unbelievable. The stories of survival phenomenal and the stories of those who perished are absolutely heart wrenching.

So tonight, please say a prayer for those who have lost so much, for those who remain under threat and for the heroes of the Country Fire Authority (CFA) that they may have the strength to carry on fighting the blazes and saving people's homes and lives.

To read more about the fires visit any of the following links:
http://www.theage.com.au/national/death-toll-rises-from-bushfires-20090208-80jv.html?page=-1

http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,25024630-601,00.html

http://www.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&ll=-37.09024,145.360107&spn=5.467626,6.778564&z=7&msid=102713443485350180116.0004625c0e5a723331061

Melbourne Heat Wave

2009-02-07T11:01:00.002+11:00

Summer in Melbourne officially starts the beginning of December. Throughout this past December, we enjoyed mild days with a bit of rain here and there and an occasional peak in the mercury. Melbournians were commenting on how mild the summer was, but gut instinct told many of us the worst was yet to come. January came and went in the same kind of mild mannered way that December slipped by. Temperatures were warm, but the very hot days were few and far between. Enter February and the honeymoon period was finally over.

The first few days of February were marked with 40+ degree Celsius temperatures (that's over 100 degrees Fahrenheit) and Melbourne nearly came to a stand still. Historically, temperatures in Melbourne haven't been this extreme in the summer. During the 8 years that I've called Melbourne home, I can remember several instances of 38 degree temperatures or maybe even one or two 40 degree days, but never temperatures exceeding 40 degrees and never several of these days in a row.

Last week Melbourne experienced what local meteorologists are calling, "a once in a century heatwave". The extreme heat crippled this city for several days and there wasn't a single soul that wasn't adversely affected. There are plenty of locations around the globe that sustain these extreme temperatures for days, weeks and months on end and the people living in these regions seem to cope with the heat. Why is Melbourne so different from everywhere else?

I think the answer lies in the fact that historically, Melbourne hasn't been this hot. Which means that infrastructure hasn't been built with these extreme temperatures in mind, air conditioning of buildings and cars isn't standard, and native plants and animals aren't predisposed to coping with such intense heat.

Whilst it may have gone unnoticed by the international community, Australians are keenly aware that many parts of the continent are suffering from one of the longest droughts in the nation's history. Minuscule rainfall has created some of the driest conditions we've seen in Victoria and if you combine this with extreme temperatures and some gusty winds you get the perfect bush fire cocktail. Last week there were fires burning on the periphery of Melbourne that threatened power supplies and in some cases led to power outages.

On the final day of the extreme temperatures, daily life in Melbourne became chaotic as the stressed public transport system was forced to cancel hundreds of scheduled services due to the buckling of rail tracks and mechanical issues with the trains. Many small businesses closed up shop early as the streets were more or less empty as the city's population struggled to find ways to keep cool. Public swimming pools reached capacity and power outages created traffic snarls as a large percentage of the city's residents endured rolling stoppages. The multiple days of extreme heat were taking their toll on the city.

When the heat finally subsided and relatively cooler temperatures breathed life back into the streets and homes of Melbourne, it was clear the heat had left it's mark on our landscape. During the past week as I've driven around our local area, I've noticed the streets are littered with leaves from trees. At some point my mind was actually tricked into thinking we'd entered autumn because the landscape looked so brown and barren. Even the more drought tolerant plants we have planted in our back garden sustained damage from the laser like rays of the sun. Everywhere you look, the foliage is wilted, sadly sagging, and slowly drying up.

A "total fire ban" has been in place since the warm temperatures first hit our city. Looking around now, you can understand why. A stray cigarette butt could probably take out an entire suburb in the current conditions. It's a scary thought.

For those doubters of climate change and those who deny ozone depletion, I invite you to come to Melbourne and see the effects first hand. What is happening here simply isn't normal.

Southern Star Observation Wheel

2009-01-26T09:40:00.017+11:00

Looming over the horizon on the CBD's northwestern fringe is Melbourne's newest attraction, the Southern Star Observation Wheel. Our family kept track of the Wheel's construction as we drove along the Tullamarine Freeway on our way to and from the airport during the last year. There is quite a good view of the Wheel from the freeway and our children oohed and ahhed as they saw all the bits and pieces coming together. There hasn't been very much press surrounding the Wheel's construction or announcing it's completion. We just happened to be in the Docklands precinct one Friday night in November when they were holding the official launch for the Wheel.

Even after the launch was held in late November, the Wheel didn't open to the public until the 2oth of December 2008. When we found out it was open, I decided to check to see if I could find more information about it's operating hours and ticket prices online. A brief search led me to their very informative website http://www.thesouthernstar.com.au/ . All the information you might ever want to know about this glorified Ferris wheel can be found on their page. My personal favourite section of the web page is the "Amazing Facts" section where I found out that the Wheel stands 120m high into the sky or about 40 stories up and it rotates at a speed of 11m per minute. That's just the tip of the iceberg, there is heaps more trivia there and it's probably a good site to visit with the kids before or after you take them on the Wheel. My kids love knowing the details.

After visiting the website and viewing the ticket prices, I was initially put off from visiting. Adult tickets are $29AUD while children are $17AUD. This means a typical family of four (with two adults and two children) would be up for a whopping $92AUD for the 30 minute ride on the Wheel. Both the Handsome Australian and I agreed that the costs were a bit prohibitive and it wasn't something we'd rush to try out. We decided that the next time we had an overseas visitor, we'd take them along to the Wheel and spring for the ride but in the meantime, we'd just admire it from the ground level.

A week or so went by and a family in our neighbourhood went for a ride on the Wheel. When I commented to my neighbour about the extravagant ticket prices, she said the tickets were expensive, but children under 5 years of age are free. This was not something that was clearly noted on their website. Since our children are both under 5, this meant if we chose to go, it would only cost us $58AUD instead of $92AUD. In comparison, it sounded like a bargain.

So we loaded our children up in the car one weekend in January and headed down to the Docklands to check out the Wheel from the inside. True to my neighbour's story, children under 5 were free and our tickets were $58AUD. The ticket lines are at the bottom level of the wheel and once purchased, you travel by escalator to the 1st level where you join the queue for the Wheel.

The Wheel itself doesn't actually stop. It keeps moving, but moves at such a slow rate, that passengers simply walk off when their ride is finished and the new passengers walk on. We were there about midday on a Saturday and there were maybe 10-15 people in front of us in the queue so we didn't have to wait long. Each cabin on the wheel holds about 20 people. We asked one of the employees if the Wheel had busier times and she remarked that it tends to get busier around 6pm heading towards dusk and sunset. Which makes sense as I suppose the views would be more colourful then.

When our turn arrived to board the cabin, we were joined by three others giving our cabin 7 passengers total. The man who guided us into the cabin wished us a "Happy Flight!" and then sealed the doors shut.

The cabins themselves are air conditioned and quite spacious. There is a single bench that sits in the middle of the cabin and floor to ceiling glass on all sides making for excellent viewing. It was also quite easy to take photos from the inside of the cabin and we could walk about freely taking in the view from different perspectives.

The views, however, are not really spectacular. There is quite a bit of construction going on in the immediate area around the Wheel and there you simply see a lot of unfinished projects. You can see the City skyline, but it wasn't very impressive in the middle of the day. Perhaps it is better at night with the lights giving it more ambiance, but both the Handsome Australian and I agreed, the Wheel was probably built on the wrong side of the city. We think it would have been better placed on the Eastern/Southeastern side where you might get glimpses of the Yarra River, the MCG, Melbourne Park and a better view of the Dandenong Ranges, etc.

As far as views of Melbourne go, I'd prefer to travel to the top of the Rialto or the Eureka Tower and take advantage of their observation decks. I think the views they offer are more interesting and in addition to the view, they give you some explanation of what you are seeing. In the Southern Star Observation Wheel, you don't learn anything about what is outside the windows. If you were a visitor to Melbourne, I don't think you'd come away with any new knowledge about the city or how things are laid out.

The Southern Star Observation Wheel is an engineering marvel and it's actual physical structure is in my opinion more interesting than any sights you might see while aboard, and you can admire that with your feet firmly planted on the ground.

In the end, I'm glad we went for the ride so we could tick it off the list, but it's not something I'll be returning to do. Our children enjoyed the ride, but thought it was a bit lengthy. 30 minutes is a long time for a 4 year old and a 2 year old. I think they'd have been just as happy with a ride on a normal Ferris wheel.

If you are visiting Melbourne for a few days, I don't think you'll get value for money at the Southern Star Observation Wheel. For my money, I'd visit the more reasonably priced Rialto Observation Deck where your ticket also includes a 20 minute film about Melbourne and I think you'll come away with a much better understanding of the physical geography and layout of this magnificent city.

*At the date of this post, operation of the Southern Star Observation Wheel has been temporarily suspended as several consecutive days of 40 degree Celcius temperatures has buckled some bracing. The Wheel will remain closed until the stucture can be fully inspected and the problems rectified. So please check the website before you go to avoid disappointment. That is, if you're still game!!

A day at the Docklands

2009-01-24T16:56:00.010+11:00

Unique, culturally rich suburbs each with its own identity and history blend together seamlessly to form the patchwork quilt that is Melbourne. Some suburbs are steeped in history whilst others have only been on our maps more recently. One such newcomer is the Docklands Precinct just on the periphery of the city along Melbourne's almost forgotten waterfront.

The revitalisation of the Dockland's Precinct began in the early 1990s when the Victorian State Government appointed a task force to propose plans for renewing the derelict remains of a once booming port. The progress since then has been slow and steady with the construction and eventual completion of the Docklands Stadium (known currently as Telstra Dome but soon to be re branded as Etihad Stadium as sponsorship changes hands) followed by the extension of public transport links and the gradual construction of numerous residential towers with retail precincts on the ground levels. As the project has moved forward in stages, the area itself still has an "incomplete" feel to it.

There was a bit of excitement in 2002 when the first residents moved into the high rise apartments lining the waterfront in the NewQuay precinct and a handful of new restaurants and retail shops opened up, but I'd say the thrill was short lived and the neighbourhood lacked charisma and character. The buildings were new, the restaurants were unheard of and the location, although minutes from the city centre, still seemed out of the way. It wasn't a place people passed through on their way to anywhere. As a result, a great many of the restaurants struggled to make ends meet as the area was not yet a destination on the Melbourne radar.

The developers pressed forward with the plans for the area and have recently opened new sections of the Waterfront City precinct. This precinct is made up of entertainment venues, restaurants, retail outlets and the newest of Melbourne's tourist attractions--Southern Star Observation Wheel.

The Waterfront City precinct is where we spent most of our day today. Our first stop upon arrival was the Piazza where we attended a mid-morning concert by local children's entertainers, The Ticklish Allsorts.

While the audience numbers were low, the small crowd was enthusiastic and I think it's fair to say the little people amongst us enjoyed themselves thoroughly.

The Piazza has the capacity to hold 10,000 people and touts two enormous LED screens accompanied by a cutting-edge audio system which makes it an attractive spot for special events. The Piazza is lined with lots of interesting urban art. There are statues of many of Australia's most famous entertainers from Kylie Minogue to Dame Edna Everidge. Not to mention an amazing mosaic mural of hundreds of Australia's most famous faces.

You can spend a bit of time admiring the mural and trying to spot different celebrities whose likenesses have been carefully crafted out of tiny pieces of broken tile.

It is also a nice open area for the kids to run around in. Our little ones certainly had great fun romping around while the Handsome Australian and I enjoyed a few moments of an Australian Open tennis match being broadcast live on the enormous screens.

Hot and bothered from running around, the little people indicated it was time for lunch and a cool drink. We walked through the new Harbour Town shopping centre towards the Southern Star Observation Wheel. In the shadows of the immense 21st Century ferris wheel, we found a bevy of food choices. Most restaurants in this section offer casual dining options, but there are a few restaurants that offer a more formal dining experience--most notably a Chinese Yum Cha style restaurant. We chose the casual cafe chain Coffee Club as our place to refuel the little people. The food was average, the prices moderate to high and the service mixed. After our meal we decided we'd have been better off dining in the NewQuay section of the Docklands. The views are better and the menus are probably similarly priced.

The Harbour Town shopping centre is still under construction, but dozens of shops have been open for trading for several months now. The centre itself is open air by design and each shop has it's own entrance from one of the many walkways that crisscross the complex. It's lovely in the summer, but I will be interested to see how pleasant the experience is in the winter time. This part of Melbourne can be quite breezy and cold. The centre does have some shelter overhead that sticks out above the shop entrances a few metres on each side of the walkways and their appear to be heaters installed in these. So hopefully this provision will keep shoppers nice and toasty during the winter months.

The Harbour Town shopping centre seems to suffer from the same fate that the rest of the Docklands suffers from--it's not yet fully complete and as such still has little personality or identity of its own. After speaking to several shopkeepers, it appears that crowd numbers have been very hit or miss since the first shops opened several months ago. I was told that weekends seem to be the busiest period at the moment which goes to support my theory that the Docklands is a destination location and not yet a true neighbourhood with it's own organic traffic patterns.

The construction of a 14,000 square metre warehouse format store in the Waterfront Precinct by US retailer Costco seems to be the drawcard other retailers have pinned their hopes on. The popularity of this particular anchor store will, in my opinion, make or break the area. Until then, the Docklands seem to be stuck in perpetual dress rehearsal--a neighbourhood waiting for its moment in the spotlight, but still trying to work out the kinks.

Tianjin Dancing Kite Festival

2009-01-18T22:16:00.013+11:00

I've lived in Melbourne for the past 8 years. In that time, I've learned a lot about this wonderful city. One interesting fact that I didn't know until last January, was that Melbourne has a Sister City in China. Melbourne's Chinese Sister City is Tianjin. Each year to celebrate this special relationship, the good folks at the Chinese Museum in conjunction with the City of Melbourne put on the Tianjin Dancing Kite Festival. We stumbled upon this event last year and had so much fun that we made a point of attending the festival again today.

The festival is held in the Native Garden of Royal Park in the Melbourne suburb of Parkville just on the city's northern edge. It's a gorgeous setting for a festival. There are expansive grass areas and a small pond in the centre with large shady trees throughout. Today's weather was perfect festival weather too--warm, sunny with a gentle breeze (perfect for kite flying).

The first thing we noticed when we arrived are the white tents dotting the landscape. Each tent houses one of the many activities on offer: kite making, Chinese lantern making, face painting, fortune telling, and Chinese calligraphy. There was also several performance spaces where the entertainment ranged from Tai Chi and Karate demonstrations to choirs and Dragon dancers. There was something for everyone and the best news is--it's FREE!!!

Dragon Dancers

Speaking of something for everyone, the Handsome Australian loves food and there was some of that too. There was a small selection of Chinese stirfrys and dim sims and because this is Melbourne--a coffee stand.

Our favourite part of the festival are the hands on activities. Our children love the kite making and the Chinese lantern making workshops. Each of these tents is staffed with a dozen or so volunteers who guide you through the process one on one. Most of the supplies needed to make both of these items are prepared in advance and it's just a matter of piecing everything together on the day. This means wait times aren't too bad and it doesn't take too long to complete--perfect for the short attention span most little people seem to have.

Kite Making Workshop

Our little people learn from the Kite Master

The Kite Master demonstrates the technique

The Chinese Lantern Workshop

My little one's little hands decorating her lantern

When you finish making your kite or lantern, you can take it to the Chinese Calligraphy tent where a lovely lady will write your name or a special message in beautiful Chinese Calligraphy on your kite or lantern. How special is that?

The kites that you make in the workshops aren't just for looks. They are fully functioning, if somewhat delicate, kites. There is a large open grassy field at the top of the Native Gardens where people adjourn to fly their newly constructed kites.

KITES! KITES EVERYWHERE!

We had a ball flying our kites today. The kids had a great time helping us get them up and going. Then they had a go at holding the string themselves--the looks of determination on their little faces was priceless. It was also really beautiful to look up in the sky and see so many kites "dancing".

If you find yourself in Melbourne in mid-January, the Tianjin Dancing Kite Festival is definitely worth a visit. Especially if you have small children. They'll love the activities. Pack a picnic and enjoy a day of cultural celebration!

(As an aside, we waited for ages in the face painting line and finally aborted our mission after an hour long wait left us behind 8 others still waiting for a turn. The faces coming out of the tent were amazing, but they took too long and the line just didn't move. So you might skip that part next year or perhaps they'll have wised up by then and gotten faster face painters or more of them!).

The terrible queue for a face painting =(

Fairy Dust in Fitzroy Gardens

2009-01-09T21:29:00.013+11:00

A gloriously sunny day with a nice gentle breeze, today seemed like the perfect day to go hunting for fairy dust with the little people. I packed both little ones in the car and squeezed in one of their friends and took advantage of the quiet summer streets and drove into the city. Our destination? The leafy, lush and large Fitzroy Gardens on the edge of Melbourne's CBD.

Each summer, the Fitzroy Gardens play host to a number of free events organised by the City of Melbourne. The events range from Sunset Concerts to Stargazing to Fairy Fanfare...and it's the fairies that took us there today. For the first two weeks in January, three comical fairies perform silly antics twice daily (At 10am and 12pm) near the Fairy Tree, alongside the Pavilion restaurant and it's FREE!! The children are encouraged to dress in costume and many do (predominantly as fairies).

Fairy in Pink

After we circled Fitzroy Gardens several times in search of a car park, we finally found one and slowly made our way across it's expansive grounds on foot towards the Fairy Tree. It was pretty obvious to tell which direction to head--there were dozens upon dozens of little people donning fairy wings, sparkly wands, and glistening dresses as well as a few muscly superheros mixed in. The trail of miniature fairies ended in a large grassy opening shaded by massive trees (if I was more of an arborist I'd tell you the variety...alas I spend my time here instead of studying tree varieties). Picnic blankets were the order of the day with each family sharing their own little patch of plaid. We found a spot mid-way back and sat down in the soft grass.

The Fairy Faithful

It wasn't long before the first fairy appeared. He introduced himself as Fairy Snooze and yawned continuously. He asked us if we'd seen his friends Fairy Nuff and Fairy Smart. We hadn't spotted his friends yet so we told him so. He also asked us if we'd seen any cheeky garden gnomes. Apparently these gnomes run around in the gardens taking things from the fairies and hiding them. They were naughty little creatures he told us. We hadn't spotted any of those either.

Since Fairy Snooze couldn't find his friends, he decided he'd start without them. He began by teaching us a special fairy song that would be required of us later. He explained that he and his fairy friends were going to use some magic fairy dust to grant some wishes for us later, but we'd need to be able to sing the song first. As you might imagine, this song had accompanying physical actions. The children were all very keen to follow along and practice the song with Fairy Snooze.

Once the children had the song down pat, Fairy Snooze actually, yes you guessed it, fell asleep. Hence the name. This was a perfect time for Fairy Nuff and Fairy Smart to come and wake him up. The children delighted in meeting the new fairies.

Fairy Nuff and Fairy Smart debate how to wake up Fairy Snooze

Once Fairy Snooze was awake again, the fairies began their search for the magical fairy dust which was apparently stolen by those naughty garden gnomes--of course!

The fairies taking a break from the search for the fairy dust

The rest of the show was packed full of jokes, songs and plenty of acrobatics. They did plenty of interesting things with a ladder they referred to as a "platter". Apparently fairies don't do much home improvement. Finally they successfully found the fairy dust and each child was allowed to go on a short fairy walk with Fairy Smart as the leader. At the end of the walk, Fairy Nuff and Fairy Snooze sprinkled each little person with a tiny bit of fairy dust so their wishes would come true.

The show runs for about an hour and most people seem to bring a picnic lunch or snacks along with them. Luckily for the unorganised amongst us, the Pavilion Cafe is set up to provide a proper cafe lunch, a take away coffee or even a simple sausage straight off their outdoor barbie. If you have little people, and are spending the summer in Melbourne, only the rain should keep you away from this little bit of fun in the heart of the city.

The Pavilion Cafe--a saviour with cold drinks and sausages!

Wiggles Wonderment con't

2009-01-06T15:10:00.008+11:00

WARNING: The following post contains really average photographs. My pre-existing poor photography skills combined with a malfunctioning camera on the day made for particularly bad results. I apologise in advance.

I secured our tickets to the Wiggles December concert in Melbourne back in June. I didn't mention it to my children for quite awhile after that. My children, like most their age, struggle with the concept of time. The last thing I wanted was to be asked, "When are we going to see the Wiggles?" for months before the concert. So to avoid the nagging question, I waited until early September to break the news. When I did, I made it clear that we'd see the Wiggles at Christmas time. This way the children understood it was still a few months away. About a month prior to the concert, we started a countdown to the day. Here in Australia, children count down to big events by counting the number of "sleeps" between now and then. I don't remember counting "sleeps" when I was a kid in the USA. I remember counting down "days", but never "sleeps". My children count "sleeps" and now so do I. Some things you just have to run with.

Needless to say, the anticipation for the concert was building for several weeks prior to the event. My children were giddy at the opportunity to see the Wiggles live (although I think it's important to note they have been to previous Wiggles concerts and this wasn't their first) and secretly, so was I. I was really excited about this particular concert because I'd been so on the ball back in June, I'd managed to get us seats on the floor about six rows back from the stage. Not only that, I'd convinced the Handsome Australian to come along and his Mum and Auntie as well. This meant we had a 4:2 ratio happening--four adults to two children. Easy street!

Our day began quite early as we had to be bathed, fed, dressed and out of the house by about 9am to get to the city and find parking before the 10am concert. In the car on the way to the city there was excitement in the air. As soon as we got to the parking garage where we'd be leaving our car for the day, my youngest announced gleefully, "We are in the City! We are going to see the Wiggles."

We walked to the nearest tram stop and began to see the signs of fellow Wiggles faithful. There were Wiggles backpacks, Wiggles t-shirts, Wiggles dress up costumes (our son was decked in his Captain Feathersword outfit) and lots of little people with hopeful smiles on their faces waiting for a tram to take them to the venue. When the tram arrived, it was packed with even more Wiggles faithful--there were prams (strollers) and children, Mums and Dads, Aunts and Uncles, Grandparents--everyone it seems was on their way to see the Wiggles. We literally squeezed ourselves on to the tram in the various nooks and crannies that were remaining.

A few stops later we stepped off the tram in sheets of rain and cold wind and walked the short distance to the arena. We found our way into the arena and walked down the stairs, and down the stairs again and down, down, down until we reached the floor. It dawned on me then that these were the best seats I've ever had for any concert I've ever attended. I'm not sure if that is a sad statement about my previous concert going efforts or something to be celebrated. At any rate, the Handsome Australian gave me a big pat on the back and said, "Well done. Floor seats! I'm impressed. We're only six rows from the stage. Amazing." (This is why I love men. You can tell them something several times like, "I got us floor seats for the Wiggles and we'll be sitting six rows from the stage." and they'll never remember it. Then when they get to the event and notice the seating arrangement it's like they just discovered it themselves. "Wow! Aren't we lucky?" Yes everything is always new to them.) My Mother-in-law was also impressed with the good seats and the kids were thrilled with how close we were to the stage.

Immediately, the two little ones began pointing at the stage and the various backdrops waiting in the darkness for the Wiggles to appear.

We saw their instruments sitting to one side waiting to be played.Behind these billowing strips of fabric that were glowing yellow was a backdrop that looked like a circus meets a fairytale castle. It was bright, colourful and really, really festive. Our entire group couldn't wait to see what kind of magic the Wiggles would perform on this stage.

Unfortunately, these were the last two photos for which my camera was actually functioning. Once the concert began, my camera went fuzzy and took nothing but blurry psychedelic photographs. It was a sad, sad day for my camera.

Camera troubles aside, the lights went up and on the stage ballerinas and gymnasts came prancing and tumbling out on the stage. The children's eyes lit up in amazement. The costumes, the dancing, the flips--they were taking it all in. Then the crowd let out a big cheer of excitement when the Big Red Car came cruising on the stage carrying the four most important people there--Murray, Jeff, Sam and Anthony aka The Wiggles!! My youngest had a smile from ear to ear. I'm not sure I've ever seen him more excited. At one point he was actually physically shaking with excitement.

The concert continued with plenty of music, silly antics and a cast of colourful supporting characters who are loved just as dearly as the Wiggles themselves. Since we were so close the the stage, our children were able to leave their seats and dance in the aisles and up near the front of the stage--it was their own little Wiggles mosh pit! Our oldest danced her little heart out and did a wonderful job of protecting her brother from the various obstacles one encounters in a Wiggles mosh pit. She's a good sister.

In the meantime, I looked over at the Handsome Australian who had a big smile on his face. He wasn't singing any of the songs, but he seemed to be pretty pleased to be there. My mother-in-law was the same--she was very excited to see the children enjoying themselves so much. The Great Auntie and I on the other hand, were probably almost as excited as the children themselves. I caught myself singing along to most of the songs and dancing in my seat. I couldn't help myself (when you've listened to as much Wiggles as I have, it's almost impossible not to sing all the words). I had a huge smile on my face for several reasons--my kids were having a ball and it was great to see, my husband who rarely finds himself with the time to come to these events was there and able to witness their joy as well, my mother-in-law and the Great Auntie were enjoying themselves, and I can't help it, but I LOVE the Wiggles!

Yes, I just said I LOVE the Wiggles. Honestly, never before have I been to a concert where you could see such enthusiasm and enjoyment on the faces of the performers themselves. It is so obvious that the Wiggles and their entire cast and crew really do love what they do. Not only that, but they are humble and very grateful. I've been to three Wiggles concerts now with my children and each time at the very end, the Wiggles thank the parents and carers for making their way to the concert, buying the tickets and bringing the children along. It's a heartfelt thank you and it makes you feel appreciated. As a parent, I like their style.

All good things must come to an end though. The concert finally finished and we made our way out of the arena. Smiles plastered on every one's faces. In the back of my mind I was thinking, "I hope my kids still love the Wiggles next year--it would be a bit embarrassing coming without them!"

January in Melbourne

2009-01-05T13:15:00.002+11:00

Each year our lives get more and more hectic in the lead up to Christmas. I've written here before about the busy social calendar most Aussies keep in the months preceding the big day in December. Not only is everyone busy trying to catch up with one another and attending end of year/holiday parties, but they are also running around preparing for their family Christmas celebrations. The shopping centres are packed to the rafters. People are arguing over car parking. The local fruit and veg shops have long queues and people are frantically placing Christmas orders with their local butchers. The city itself is abuzz with activity as citizens rush to and fro meeting, greeting, shopping and collecting all that is necessary to celebrate Christmas and ring in the New Year. It's a busy, busy time.

Then as if by magic on the stroke of midnight New Year's Eve, the city goes silent--well, maybe not right at midnight there would be a lot of revelers still out then, but sometime in the wee small hours of the morning of New Year's Day, everything quietens down. If you are out on the roads during any time of day--peak hour included--there is very little traffic. You'd expect such solitude on a public holiday like New Year's Day, but this tranquility lasts for several weeks as the vast majority of the population heads for the coastal towns of regional Victoria.

People leave the city in droves in the post Christmas/New Year period and spend several weeks away playing in the seaside towns that line the Victorian coast. This is my favourite time in Melbourne. The weather is beautiful, the roads are empty, the shops are quiet and I've got the place mostly to myself! It's fantastic. It's a great time for barbecues in your back garden or long afternoons sipping lattes at your favourite cafe. Ahh, the serenity. It's like the whole city is experiencing one long exhale after the insanity that was the Christmas period. I love sitting back, relaxing and enjoying it all.

This is a great time to take advantage of all that is on offer in this beautiful city. Botanical gardens, parks, picnic spots--take your pick there is no one else around so you can go anywhere you like. The Melbourne City council runs lots of free events through January and February including many wonderful things for children to attend in and around the city. We normally fill our days with many of these events--no fighting for parking, no crowds, no battling the traffic on the roads. It really couldn't be more pleasant.

In a few weeks time the Australian Tennis Open will begin and our nights will be filled with captivating tennis matches and plenty of ice cream. Melbournians will slowly return from their coastal holidays looking tanned, and relaxed. People will return to work and the kids will start another year of school...but between now and then, I've got the run of the place and while the cats are away, the mice will play!!

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T00:17:00.002+11:00

G'day from the future! It's officially 2009 and things look very promising here in Australia. Best wishes to you and yours as you ring in the New Year around the globe!

Christmas in Australia continued

2008-12-30T21:50:00.003+11:00

Here are a few more observations from the many Christmases I've spent here in Australia (click here to see the beginning of the list):

6. Being summer, Christmas seems like quite a casual affair here in Australia. I can only speak from my personal experience, but I remember Christmas in the USA to be a time for dressing up and putting on something more formal than jeans and a t-shirt. As a girl, my Mom always made sure we had a Christmas dress to wear when we celebrated with my family. As I got older, I wore dresses some years or nice pants with a festive jumper (read: sweater) for others. While some Aussies do get dolled up for Christmas, I do see plenty of people in shorts, singlets (read: tank tops) and thongs (read: flip flops). The Christmas parties we go to here seem to have a mix of fashion--some people are rather dressed up while others are very casual. There doesn't seem to be any hard and fast rule about Christmas fashion here. I do find that frustrating I must admit. I know the weather says one thing--it's hot, dress comfortably, but the occasion says something else, this is a special event and you should dress up. I really never know just what to wear on Christmas Day here in Australia. I've tried asking the Handsome Australian for a bit of guidance, but let's just say he ALWAYS errs on the side of comfort and so his advice can't always be trusted. Smart casual seems to be the way to go...that's something I'll have to explain another day.

7. Christmas baking isn't that popular. When I lived in the USA, I really got into baking around Christmas time. I always had a batch of sugar cookies on the go. There were special breads I'd make as well. All of these lovely homemade items made great gifts for friends and work colleagues and they didn't go unappreciated; people loved receiving them. When I moved to Australia, I tried to maintain this same tradition. I did it for many years until I realised something--it's too bloody hot here to have your oven going for long periods in December. We don't really receive plates and plates of homemade goodies like I remember from the USA, so I'd venture to say that most of the population has already figured out the whole baking in hot weather is a bad idea thing. There are probably some stubborn Expats like myself who still try to give it a burl despite the unforgiving temperatures, but we'd be in the minority.

8. Cherries seem to be a big deal for Christmas. I know I mentioned food in yesterday's post, but I forgot to single out the humble cherry. In the state of Victoria where we live, the cherry season is a very short one. The cherries seem to ripen just in time for Christmas each year. You'll start to see them in the shops in early December and the prices will fluctuate greatly in the lead up to the big day. When I think about Christmas in Australia, I do associate it with cherries. Regardless of what is being served at my in laws for Christmas lunch, there are always cherries. Most of the food advertising that happens around Christmas on television always features cherries. The cherries are never cheap either. I think the cheapest I've ever seen them has been about $7 AUD per kilo. So it is certainly a treat to have them on Christmas.

9. Carols by Candlelight abound. This is a tradition I really like about Christmas in Australia. I've always been a fan of a good Christmas carol and I am really delighted by the various events sponsored by local councils, shopping centres and the like which feature plenty of Christmas carols. Most local councils will sponsor a "Carols by Candlelight" event in their areas. These concerts will be free to the public, will take place in an outdoor setting and will have a mix of local entertainers. Some of these events even feature fireworks at the end. It's a really lovely atmosphere for families. There are two larger concerts--one in Sydney and one in Melbourne that are televised nationally. You actually have to purchase tickets to these larger shows, but the entertainment is top notch with many of the nation's most talented singers and musicians performing. The only drawback to these events is they do go until quite late--it has to be dark to really have candlelight doesn't it? So they can be a bit tricky with little ones, but hey it's Christmas!

10. Australian radio stations don't play Christmas music (well not with any regularity anyway). I have to say, this is an observation I made for the first time this year. We don't normally listen to a great deal of radio at our home. Most of my radio listening happens in the car going to and from places. This year we happened to be in our car quite a bit on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. On both days, I couldn't find a single Christmas song on any of the stations. My daughter was requesting Christmas carols and I couldn't find anything. I couldn't believe it. When I thought about it, I remembered some American stations playing Christmas music almost exclusively through the Christmas period. There would surely be at least one station in your regular set of stations in the USA that I would have found a Christmas song on. So my thinking on this is, the Australians like to limit their Christmas carols to the Carols by Candlelight evenings mentioned above. I really have no other explanation as to why there weren't any Christmas songs on the radio on Christmas Day. Odd.

There you have it, my Christmas in Australia observations. Have you ever wondered what Christmas was like in another place? Has this list sparked more questions about Christmas in Australia? Ask. Please. Just ask away. I'd love to dedicate the next post to answering any questions y'all might have about Christmas in the Land Down Under! So go, post them in the comments section...that is if there is anyone actually reading this.

Christmas in Australia

2008-12-29T21:18:00.004+11:00

Christmas 2008 marks my 7th Christmas spent here in the Land Down Under. I've never really stopped to think too much about the Australian Christmas traditions, that is until now. Since I started writing this blog, I've begun to take a closer look at all the intricacies of Aussie society that I had previously taken for granted. I know, lucky you right? Here are a few of my observations from this Christmas.

1. Santa dresses the same despite the seasonal difference. Yes, that's right if you go to any Australian shopping centre (that's mall for those Americans amongst you) in the lead up to Christmas, you'll find Santa Claus as you know him--white beard, red suit with the white fur accents. He'll be wearing the hat and the glasses, boots, etc. My first thought when I saw these Santas dressed for winter in the middle of the Australian summer was, "Those poor fellows. They must be absolutely burning up in there." It just seemed a bit odd to me. Now though, I like seeing these men dressed in traditional Santa costumes because it reminds me very much of the Santa I knew and loved as a kid.

2. The stores and shopping centres begin to decorate for Christmas in October. It seems to get earlier and earlier every year, and I do remember feeling this a bit when I lived in the USA, but I feel like in the USA we have several big holidays before Christmas that puts a bit of the brakes on the early Christmas decorations. It seems like retailers take aim at Halloween, then Thanksgiving and finally Christmas. I don't know, I haven't spent much time in the USA during the lead up to Christmas in many years. What do y'all think?

3. Christmas lights and outdoor decorations are growing in popularity here in Australia, but haven't really caught on. I do remember when I first came here noticing that there really aren't many lights around at Christmas. There aren't a lot of houses decked out in decorations. You might find one or two scattered about, but there really aren't huge light displays on private homes. Each year though, I've noticed that more and more people are getting into the spirit and putting up Christmas lights and those larger outdoor decorations. I'm not sure what has changed in people's minds--perhaps more of these type of decorations have become available in recent years. Who knows?

Although, it's very easy to understand why Australians don't put up the Christmas lights with such fervor--because it's summer here, it doesn't get dark until about 9:30pm so you really can't appreciate the lights unless you are up quite late. Having young kids ourselves, it is quite tricky to find a time when you can take them to see the light displays--it has to be a late night for them, unfortunately.

4. The lead up to Christmas is a killer! December marks the beginning of the Australian summer, the weather fines up, the year is drawing to a close and almost everyone you come across is in a celebratory mood. This means there are heaps of parties, barbecues, and other social occasions to attend. December seems like one late night after another with plenty of indulgent food and beverage. I think it must have been Australians that invented the New Year's detox! Honestly, you really need such a thing after surviving the "silly season" as it's so aptly called here.

5. Aussies eat lots of different things on Christmas Day. Your normal Christmas Day lunch in Australia really depends heavily on which immigrant group the family in question belongs to. Those with British heritage stick to a menu that is very much like the North American tradition--there will be turkey and ham with all the trimmings and for dessert a plum pudding.

Those people who have acclimated a bit more, won't choose such a heavy meal on a hot summery day. Instead, seafood becomes the center piece. Prawns, crayfish and oysters will find their way to many an Aussie Christmas feast. Generally these seafood platters are all served cold.

Still others may opt for the good old Aussie barbecue. Perhaps there will be seafood or just meat on the barbie and plenty of cold drinks all around.

In my husband's family, there is not a traditional Christmas menu. One year we had cold seafood platters with salads. Another year we had a selection of curries. This year was a feast featuring mostly signature Lebanese dishes. You just never know what it will be until you turn up. Normally, I'm a fan of consistency and tradition, but I like the randomness of the Christmas menu in my husband's family--it keeps me guessing. Also, there are so many talented cooks in the family, it really doesn't matter what they serve--it's always really, really good.

More observations to come...

Wiggles Wonderment...still coming

2008-12-22T22:22:00.003+11:00

I haven't forgotten to finish the post about the Wiggles Concert...because I know you are all waiting on the edge of your seats to hear all about it. I'm waiting to get some photos to post with it. My camera just gave up on me that day and so I'm waiting to get some from one of the other members of our party. It's coming. Hang in there! In the meantime I'll be posting as often as the Silly Season allows. It's getting sillier and sillier all the time. (Is sillier even a word?)

A Christmas Miracle

2008-12-22T21:55:00.004+11:00

A few days ago, I was traveling down the main road near our home when I approached a stop light. On the corner of this particular intersection is a large grocery store whose parking lot has an entrance/exit on to the road I was traveling on. Before I approached the lights, a car exited from this grocery store and proceeded to block several lanes of traffic. This road has about four lanes--one for cars turning left, one for cars turning right and two for cars going straight. The car in question was blocking the left turn lane and one of the straight lanes and had it's headlights pointing in the direction of the second straight lane. It was a bit difficult to tell where this driver was trying to head. Upon closer inspection, I noticed it was an elderly woman behind the wheel. I decided that she probably wanted to get over to the right hand turning lane, and had just crept her way out into the traffic waiting for the lights to change and her opportunity to move across. Why else would she be blocking several lanes of traffic. Her position on the road didn't bother me as I was heading straight and she wasn't blocking my path. I merely found the whole thing a bit curious.

The light remained red for a little while and the traffic began to build behind this woman. The car immediately behind her held a young P-Plater who appeared to be in a hurry. He was drumming his steering wheel impatiently. From my angle, I could see the elderly woman was the driver of the car in front of him, I'm not sure he could though. I immediately thought to myself, "I hope this guy doesn't start abusing this old woman for blocking his way." That thought popped into my head so quickly because in Melbourne, the drivers are actually very free wheeling with their abuse of other drivers. Any slight annoyance on the road, and people are honking their horns at you, swearing, making hand gestures. That's one of the first things I noticed when I started driving here. 8 years later, I find I get a bit excitable in traffic as well. Yikes. All these abusive drivers are rubbing off on me.

I'll call Melbourne drivers abusive, but I won't call them rude. If you don't mind being honked and sworn at, they are actually really good about giving way to one another and letting you in on a congested road. That aspect of driving here always impressed me. There are some roads that are so busy you think you'll never get a look in, but then someone waves you in and off you go. It happens all the time.

So what happened to the old woman blocking the traffic with a P-plater hot on her bumper? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I could not believe how restrained this young driver was. He was obviously wishing he could get past this woman, but never once did he honk, swear or scream at her. When the lights turned green, she straightened her car a bit and proceeded straight through the intersection in the "straight" lane she had been blocking. Turns out she didn't want to get over to the right turn lane, she just wanted to go straight. Where did the P-Plater go? Once the way was cleared, he got into the the left turn lane and turned left. Something he could have done several minutes before if she hadn't been in his way. Even so, he'd kept his cool and this little old woman was given the courtesy someone her age deserves. I couldn't believe it really. I thought to myself, "This must be a Christmas miracle." That's how odd it was.

Wiggles Wonderment

2008-12-14T20:29:00.004+11:00

Firstly, I must apologise for being away from the blog for so long. The silly season is well and truly taking over our lives at the moment and I don't see any relief in sight until after New Year's. That said, I'll do my best to keep posting when possible.

Today began as a wet and wild one. The wind was blowing and their were sheets of rain falling from the sky. It looked to be the kind of day that made you want to curl up in your bed and stay there all day with a good book. Unfortunately, back in June I made plans for today that required rising early and getting the Handsome Australian and our children dressed, ready and out the door by 8:30am--which is fine for a weekday, but this is Sunday people--it should be a day of rest.

What was so important that I was up making pancakes at 6:30am? The Wiggles that's what. Yes, that's right, Australia's second biggest export after Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter, were playing live at Rod Laver arena in Melbourne today. If you've had children in the last 15 or so years, then chances are you are familiar with the Wiggles and their music. Perhaps you are more familiar than you'd like to admit or even better, perhaps you are more familiar than you'd like to be!! Well, here is how it is at our house...

We LOVE the Wiggles. It wasn't always so. When I had my first child, I was determined her mind wouldn't be wasted on such mindless nonsense. I wasn't really familiar with the Wiggles then, but didn't like the idea of this new life in my charge spending endless hours in front of the TV watching four guys in turtlenecks jumping around and singing. Oh yes, we know so much as new parents don't we? Slowly but surely though, my daughter was exposed to the Wiggles at other people's houses. She liked them, but I never encouraged her by buying any of their DVDs or music. She didn't seem fussed. She had other favourites and still seemed free of the Wiggles disease.

Then my son was born and someone gave us a Wiggles DVD. My girl still didn't watch it much. We were still a pretty Wiggle neutral household. Time went on and favourites came and went. One day my girl got the Wiggles DVD from the shelf and we wiped the dust off of it and put it on. She was mildly amused, but the effect the music had on my son was amazing. He would have been just over 1 year old at the time. That was it. He was HOOKED. We watched the DVD maybe two more times before forgetting it again, but any time we were anywhere there was Wiggles merchandise, he was pointing and shouting, "Wiggles! Wiggles!. Talk about brand recognition--those DVDs had worked their black magic on his little mind.

A few months later, a family member gave my boy a Wiggles backpack in preparation for an upcoming trip to the USA. He was beside himself with glee. This is the kid who had seen the DVD three times. That's it. He wouldn't take the bloody thing off. He walked around with it for hours. He probably would have slept with it if I'd let him. Not usually one to give in to this brazen commercialisation, I found myself secretly pleased he had a focused interest because that would make distracting him during the 14 hour transpacific flight a little bit easier. So in addition to the backpack he'd been given, I went out and bought a few Wiggles figurines to surprise him with on the flight and a couple of Wiggles story and colouring books. (I think this is the point at which I became an enabler).

The tale of that 14 hour flight was something like this: We boarded the flight and he played with his Wiggles figurines quietly while we took off. The Qantas flight attendants came by with WIGGLES themed activity packs for the kids. A lucky coincidence really, but the little fellow was pleased nonetheless. Once the newness of the figurines and activity pack wore off (about 45 minutes later) I had a wiggly 18 month old on my hands. I looked across at my daughter who was engrossed in the video screen in front of her playing on demand children's shows. Ah hah--what a great idea. So I turned on the video screen in front of me and the wiggly one and searched through the Qantas Entertainment network until I came across--you guessed it--a Wiggles movie. I tried putting those cheap airplane headphones on his little head so he could watch the movie, but he kept pulling them off. I was a bit disappointed because I thought there is no way he'd watch the movie without the sound. What fun would that be?

I couldn't have been more wrong. 13 hours later, our plane touched down in Los Angeles. My daughter had slept for about nine of those hours. My son on the other hand, was awake for all but one of them. I know, you can hear him crying from where you are sitting right now can't you? You're thinking he was so overtired and upset that he was throwing all sorts of tantrums--because that's what any normal kid would do right? Well, this kid isn't normal. He watched that Wiggles movie over and over and over again. I think we must have seen 10 rotations of it. 10 rotations WITHOUT the sound. He just sat in my lap and watched it (I think it was then that my love affair with the Wiggles was born). Yes, I didn't get any sleep on that flight, but my kid sat still and didn't cry at any point so I call that a victory folks. Thank you Wiggles. Thank you. Thank you.

As my son's love for the Wiggles grew, so did mine. They were constantly getting me out of difficult situations--he was so easily distracted by anything Wiggles related that any difficult situation could be diffused by simply pointing to the Wiggles logo on the back of a book cover or singing a Wiggles song. I'm telling you the power they hold over my son is amazing.

So obviously, when the opportunity arose to take him to see the Wiggles live in concert, I simply had to take advantage. So back in June, I bought six tickets to see the Wiggles: one for me, one for the Handsome Australian, one for our girl, one for our boy and one for their Grandmother and Great Auntie who wanted to come along to see what all the fuss was about.

And what a day it was...

To be continued...

A Trip to the Darkside

2008-12-06T17:15:00.004+11:00

My husband, the Handsome Australian, actually has another alias: the Healthy Australian. Ever since I've met him, he has continually shunned the fast food lifestyle and has always opted to take the high road when it comes to food choices. There is very little that passes his lips that isn't fresh, healthy and in most cases carefully prepared. He is after all, a self declared food snob who enjoys a healthy meal, but wants it to be really tasty as well.

On the other hand, I'm a reformed fast food junkie. Growing up in the USA meant it was very hard to escape the multitude of fast food options available. As a high school student I can recall crossing the road and eating at McDonald's 4 days out of 5 each week during our lunch hour. I cringe at the thought of the calories and fat I was shoving into my adolescent body. I really didn't know any better at the time. When I got a bit older and had a car, I could drive all the way down to the local Whataburger for lunch. Oh my, Whataburger. Yum, Yum, and Yum. So much better (tasting) than McDonald's, but still not very high on the health-o-meter. Don't even get me started on all the Tex-Mex fast food choices. It will only end in tears...oh how I miss it.

When I first arrived in Australia, it became obvious that the fast food options here were limited. Also, Australian fast food isn't exactly the same as American fast food. Aussies seem to flock to the Fish and Chips shops when they need a quick meal. They also like to pick up a quick meat pie or sausage roll (YUCK and YUCK) or another Aussie favourite the pastie which is a pastry shell filled with assorted ingredients (meat, potato, veggies, etc). The country isn't overrun with Burger joints although it does have it's fair share of McDonald's and Burger King (or Hungry Jack's as it's affectionately known in some parts of Oz). This new fast food scene took a bit of getting used to.

As the Handsome Australian was really one of the few people I knew in Australia when I first turned up here, my food choices were largely dictated by his tastes. In keeping with his healthy attitude towards food, this meant little or no fast food. Slowly but surely, he worked the fast food almost entirely out of my diet.

Once our children were born, the Handsome Australian expressed his desire to keep them largely away from the McDonald's and Burger Kings of the world. He's not a fast food Nazi or anything, he's happy for the Grandparents or Aunties and Uncles to take the kids to McDonald's as a special treat, but he believes as their parents we should avoid taking them there. It's his theory that we should lead by example.

How can he be so perfect, this healthy living Handsome Australian? No junk food, nothing but goodness for the kids, it's all a bit frighteningly utopian. That is unless you know his secret, because let's face it we all have a dirty little secret don't we? The Handsome Australian's secret is when push comes to shove, he loves a little bit of the Colonel! That's right folks, he's a KFC man. Where did this chink in his armour come from? Turns out the Handsome Australian's Dad was partial to a bucket of finger lickin' goodness now and again when the Handsome Australian was just a boy. He has many fond memories of demolishing these buckets with his Dad and brothers. It reminds him of being a kid.

So when the Handsome Australian is feeling a bit on the cheeky side, he'll have a bit of KFC. He doesn't visit KFC very often, so it is particularly noteworthy when he does. Even more noteworthy is when he takes his own children there, for a meal. That's exactly what happened this weekend. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the Handsome Austrlian standing at the counter ordering lunch for all of us on Saturday. I had to take a photo.

Will wonders never cease? What are your secret fast food splurges?

The Silly Season

2008-12-05T21:23:00.005+11:00

I can't be sure if it's Australia or if it's just the way that life itself has become, but every year for the last four or five years, it feels like we are running a marathon that starts in November and finishes on New Year's Day. Australians have coined a phrase to refer to this time of the year, they call it, the "silly season". Silly is just the tip of the iceberg really...

In Melbourne, the month of November begins with the Melbourne Cup. This is a famous horse race known in Australia as, "The race that stops a nation". It happens each year on the first Tuesday in November and it's a public holiday in Victoria (the state of which Melbourne is the capital city). Melburnians and Victorians more broadly are not the only Australians who observe Melbourne Cup Day--people in other states might have to go to work, but there is no doubt that when the actual Melbourne Cup Race is run during the day, these people will take a break and watch to see who wins. Australians love to have a bet on the Melbourne Cup and you'd be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't have something riding on the race whether it be in an office pool or with a bookie--almost everyone seems to have a stake in the final outcome.

The Melbourne Cup is not just a horse race though--it's part of a month long horse racing carnival known as "The Spring Racing Carnival". So I guess really, the silly season starts back in October. The horses are only one aspect, the fashions on the field are also of great concern. Men and women alike spend weeks and months preparing their racing outfits for the racing carnival. The fashion, the food, the drinks, the horses, the money changing hands--it all makes for a very festive atmosphere and so begins the silly season.

Once we get the horses out of our system, it's all down hill until New Year's Day. It becomes very important in Australia, as the year winds to a close, to get together with each group you are associated with. What this means is every group that you are involved with will have some sort of a break up party. There will be work Christmas parties to attend, school concerts and parties to be had, as well as gatherings with friends and family. It's as if all the people in your life need to see you before the year finishes. It's like you've all got to bid a final farewell to the year together before the new year can be ushered in.

The refrain,"Let's catch up before Christmas" has become all to common here. I can't figure out why it is that Aussies are so keen to get together this time of year. I have a few theories. Firstly, it's summer time here and the weather is conducive to getting together and having barbecues, etc and so people are keen to take advantage of that fact. I also think that another reason people are so keen to get together with one another before Christmas or New Year's is that the vast majority of people tend to take multiple weeks off in January and travel to coastal towns to spend their holidays on the beach. So it's almost as if people know they won't see much of each other in the coming month so they want to get quality time in now before that happens.

I don't know, I can't explain the phenomenon. What I can say is that our social calendar is pretty much non-stop from the beginning of November through till New Year's day and it gets busier every year. Is Australia the only place where this happens? Are they the only ones that socialise their way through the end of the year in a "the world's coming to an end on Jan 1st we must see each other before then" kind of way? Please...enlighten me!

What Australians are laughing at...

2008-12-02T22:45:00.002+11:00

Radio and television personalities Hamish and Andy are some of the hottest comedic talents in Australia at the moment. Thought it might be interesting to share a bit of their recent road trip from Melbourne to Darwin with you. They have a very Australian sense of humour. Hope you enjoy it!

So what's the verdict? Are they funny or not? What do you think? I personally think they are hilarious, but that's just me.

Highlights

2008-11-30T22:19:00.004+11:00

In a few weeks, 2008 will come to an end and just like everyone else, I'll be looking back at the year gone by and taking stock--high points, low points, where to from here? It's all part of the yearly ritual that leads to the often ill fated New Year's resolution. I know I still have a month left to mull this all over, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say now that Halloween and Thanksgiving were two of my proudest moments of this year. The reason being, in both cases, I was able to successfully recreate an authentic American holiday experience for my children by sharing my traditions with my friends and neighbours.

Halloween and my neighbourhood trick-or-treating project taught me the overwhelming power of ONE. It's true what they say (whoever they is), one person really can make a difference. I was just a girl with a dream and a plan. Last year I put it on paper and handed it out to my neighbours with a small amount of success. This year I persevered, built on my idea and the payoff was huge. I truly felt that my children got to experience the same type of Halloween celebration that I did as a kid. It was probably as authentic as I'm going to get here in Australia. Not only have I been able to give that experience to my children, but that little pebble I chucked in the pond has sent ripples through the whole neighbourhood. Judging by the enthusiasm on the day, Halloween trick-or-treating is going to become an October tradition around here.

As for Thanksgiving, I think I finally nailed it. This year I was able to gather all the necessary ingredients, and single handed, prepare a truly traditional Thanksgiving feast for my family and friends. I must admit, I got a lot of inspiration from Pioneer Woman and the wonderful recipes she shares on her blog. (If you haven't visited her site, you must. She's truly a Wonder Woman) Recipes aside, I've cooked Thanksgiving dinner many times since I've lived here in Australia, but for some reason, this year's meal was probably the best. You might put this down to practice--I've done it enough times now that I should have a handle on it. Yes, that is true, but it's more than that. I think, like Halloween, it's the idea of introducing a tradition and watching as it's slowly embraced by the group you are introducing it to. The smiles on the faces of our guests (mostly Aussies) at yesterday's Thanksgiving celebration was all the thanks I needed.

I'm already looking forward to 2009 so I can watch these seeds I've planted continue to grow and flourish.

Thanksgiving Down Under

2008-11-27T22:49:00.003+11:00

During my time here in Australia, Thanksgiving is one holiday that I've managed to celebrate in one way or another each year. The tradition has taken on even greater importance to me after the birth of my children. This year is no exception, the preparations have begun and I've started putting together the bits and pieces that will make up our Thanksgiving meal. As my daughter gets older, she's becoming more aware of my preparations and of the tradition itself. As we were out shopping today picking up a few things for Thanksgiving, we had the following conversation:

Her: "Mum, does everyone in Australia celebrate Thanksgiving?"

Me: "No darling. In fact, Australians don't celebrate Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is a holiday that people in America celebrate and because you are half American and your Mommy is American then we celebrate it."

Her: "Mum, I'm not half American."

Me: "You're not? What are you then?"

Her: "I'm ALL American."

Me: "Really?"

Her: "Yeah, listen..CUCUMBERRRRRR!"

Me: "You're right. You are ALL American CUCUMBERRRR!!"

Then we both laughed.

Why is that funny? Well, my daughter speaks almost exclusively in an Australian accent. It makes sense because she was born here and has lived all of her four years here in Australia. My accent has become very Australian as well, so she doesn't get too much exposure to the American accent. There are still certain words that I say, however, that carry the American emphasis and accent and "cucumber" is one of them. So whenever my daughter wants to be funny, she'll say "cucumber" and really stress the "r" at the end because Australians don't pronounce the "r". They would say, "cucumba". Then she falls on the floor and kills herself laughing. Essentially she's poking fun at my American accent. She's four, folks. I didn't realise the mocking would start so early...

Aussie Jingle Bells, oh wait...there's more!

2008-11-24T21:48:00.005+11:00

I'm not sure how I've lived in Australia for 8 years and missed this little gem until now. As I mentioned yesterday, my preschooler is learning the first verse of Aussie Jingle Bells for her Christmas concert. I just assumed that was all there was to the song. Oh no, my friends, there is more!!!

Inspired by loyal reader, Scintilla, who mentioned seeing a video of the song, I went searching on YouTube and found plenty of Aussies belting it out. To my astonishment, there were two more verses! I'm not sure if the newly discovered verses increase the classy factor or not, in fact, I'm sure they don't, but they are amusing nonetheless.

Have a listen as this bloke sings all the verses in a very colourful Aussie accent (and because I know most of my American readers will have no idea what he is saying even though he is speaking English, I've included the lyrics below with a few words explained--you can thank me later)

Dashing through the bush
In a rusty Holden Ute
Kicking up the dust
Esky in the boot
Kelpie by my side
Singing Christmas songs
It's summer time and I am in
My singlet, shorts & thongs

CHORUS:
OH, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS
JINGLE ALL THE WAY
CHRISTMAS IN AUSTRALIA
ON A SCORCHING SUMMER'S DAY

JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS
CHRISTMAS TIME IS BEAUT
OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE
IN A RUSTY HOLDEN UTE

Engine's getting hot
Dodge the kangaroos
Swaggy climbs aboard
He is welcome too
All the family is there
Sitting by the pool
Christmas day, the Aussie way
By the barbecue!

CHORUS

Come the afternoon
Grandpa has a doze
The kids and uncle Bruce
Are swimming in their clothes
The time comes round to go
We take a family snap
Then pack the car and all shoot through
Before the washing up

CHORUS

So what do we think now? I told you, it doesn't get prettier, but it is amusing. For an explanation of the 1st verse, see yesterday's post. Here are the words I think worthy of explaining in the 2nd and 3rd verses:

Swaggy = short for Swagman. What's a Swagman you ask? I asked the Handsome Australian the same thing. He's familiar with the term "Swagman", but was unable to define it. Hmm...lucky my friend Wikipedia took my call. Here's what he said, "A Swagman is an old Australian term describing an underclass of transient temporary workers, who travelled by foot from farm to farm carrying the traditional swag." I think in America we'd say, "Hobo".

family snap = family photo (you probably already knew that one but just in case)

shoot through = depart quickly, or escape

So just in case you weren't paying attention, this is a Christmas song about a sweaty man and his dog in a rusty car who pick up hitch hikers while dodging kangaroos only to arrive at his family's Christmas gathering where the Esky from the boot is obviously unloaded and its contents consumed (how else can you explain Uncle Bruce in the pool with his clothes on?). Then when it's all said and done, he takes off and leaves the mess for everyone else to clean up.

Like I said, it's a gem!

Aussie Jingle Bells

2008-11-23T22:56:00.006+11:00

My preschool aged daughter came home on Friday with a list of songs they are practicing for their Christmas concert in December. She's been telling me about the songs for awhile and kept mentioning one called, "Aussie Jingle Bells." I kept singing Jingle Bells as I know it, and she kept protesting, "No Mum, that's not the one. It's the Aussie Jingle Bells." Then I would ask, "So how does it go then?" and she'd reply in typical 4 year old fashion, "I can't remember, but that's not it."

This afternoon, I finally got a chance to look through the song list and there was indeed a song called, "Aussie Jingle Bells". The lyrics are as follows:

Dashing through the bush

In a rusty Holden Ute

Kicking up the dust

Esky in the boot

Kelpie by my side

Singing Christmas songs

It's summer time and I am in

My singlet, shorts and thongs

Chorus:

Oh, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells

Jingle all the way

Christmas in Australia

On a scorching summer's day

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells

Christmas time is beaut

Oh what fun it is to ride

In a rusty Holden Ute

Somehow it doesn't have the same ring to it. Personally, I wouldn't be trading a one horse open sleigh for a rusty Holden Ute, but that's just me.

For those of you who struggle with the Aussie turn of phrase, here is a helpful list of translated words:

bush = forest or country (rural area)
Holden ute = type of car (Remember the El Camino? This is a similar car.) In my opinion, highly unattractive

See?

Esky = ice chest or cooler (I'm guessing in this case, it'd be filled with beer. This is Australia after all)

Kelpie = breed of dog (see photo below)

singlet = tank top

beaut = short for beautiful

So there you have it my friends, this is apparently what Aussie children sing at their Christmas concerts. I admit, I'm proud of the Aussies for coming up with their own season appropriate song as it does seem weird singing all the Northern Hemisphere Christmas songs here (which reference snow and such), but they could have made it a bit more classy. Just sayin'.

A Whale of a Tale

2008-11-18T22:18:00.004+11:00

About a week ago, I got up in the morning and fired up the old lap top. This is a morning ritual for me as the new day in America has dawned while I was sleeping and the American news cycle is in full swing. My computer is set to open the Yahoo homepage initially when I connect to the Internet. As soon as the page opens, I scroll down to the news section and read the day's headlines. Lately the headlines have been dominated by Iraq, Pakistan and Obama. There are often a few sports stories or other "light" news items thrown in for good measure. (I think it's important to note here that I'm looking at the USA version of the Yahoo website so the news stories are mostly USA related)

On the particular morning in question, I was greeted with the following headline, "Australian Kite Surfer Struck by Whale". Of course I immediately clicked on the story and saw the following video.

Not long after, the Handsome Australian walked in the room and put the television on. The same story was running on the local morning news program.

HA: "Hey, have a look at this."

Me: "I know, I already saw it on the net. The headline is Australian Kite Surfer Struck by Whale. It made the US Yahoo site."

HA: "Of course it did."

Me: "Yeah I guess getting struck by a whale is a pretty big deal."

HA: "It's not that, it's that Americans love this kind of a story. It fulfills all of their stereotypes of Australia."

Me: "Oh yeah, and those would be?"

HA: "Well, firstly the guy was surfing. We're all surfers didn't you know?"

Me: "Kite surfing. He was kite surfing."

HA: "Kite surfing, surfing, whatever--the guy was surfing in some form."

Me: "Okay, what else ya got?"

HA: "He got struck by a whale. Americans love a good Australian wildlife story. People think that only in Australia would you ever come into contact with such bizarre wild life, or have a close encounter with it. Americans think we are all wrangling crocs or riding kangaroos all the time. We are all the Crocodile Hunter."

Me: "Aren't you?"

HA: "No."

Got that folks? Australians are not surfing wildlife wranglers. They are that and so much more. Unfortunately, that's the only type of news that ever seems to make international headlines. Lucky these wacky Australians are out there kite surfing over whales--that way Chris Cuomo can make his goofy, "New South WALES" jokes while Diane Sawyer and Robin Roberts chuckle like school girls in the background.

Christmas Fun in the City

2008-11-16T21:15:00.020+11:00

On Friday, I packed the little people in car and headed to the city for dinner and a concert. As we are nearly half way through November and there is no Thanksgiving to think about here in Australia (they don't celebrate that), Christmas preparations are in full swing. The Melbourne City Council has already hung the Christmas decorations in the city and slated Friday evening for the offical Tree Lighting Ceremony and Concert. The event was held in City Square in the City and it was free!

After seeing an ad on a tram advertising Melbourne as the "City of Christmas" with reference to the City's helpful website, I decided to have a look and see what was on. Lucky I had a squiz when I did because this free concert was on the following night! I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the list of performers that would be on hand to entertain the kiddies: Bob the Builder, Angelina Ballerina, the Christmas Divas, Christmas Rappers, Greg Page (the former Yellow Wiggle), the Australian Children's Choir, and wait for it...HIGH FIVE!! Oh yeah, and the big man himself--Santa Claus. An unbeatable combination of all my kid's favourites. It was obvious where we'd be on Friday night.

We started with dinner on Swanston street at Meekong Vietnamese restaurant. This used to be one of my old haunts when I first came to Melbourne as a poor student. The food was always really good and reasonably priced. Since then we've discovered another favourite Vietnamese place on Victoria Street in Richmond. So dinner at Meekong was a bit disappointing in comparison to what we've become accustomed to on Victoria Street. The kids loved their spring rolls though and we were in and out quickly. Those were all positives.

We made our way down Swanston St to City Square where a crowd had already assembled in anticipation of the concert and tree lighting. There were lots of families with small children and heaps of International students who attend the City's various Unis. I think they were as keen on the concert as the three and four year olds in the crowd. It was an interesting mix.

The large Christmas tree towered behind the stage and waited patiently for dusk when it would be lit. In the meantime, a whole flock of Santa's helpers ran out from behind the stage and began to work the crowd. They were all jolly little characters with plenty of enthusiasm. The kids loved them.

Then an elf on steroids emerged from behind the stage.

He was literally larger than life. I think the kids were a bit spooked by him. But folks, I'm here to tell you, the ladies LOVED him! I saw no less than 10 or 12 different attractive 20 or 30 somethings stop and ask him to pose for a photo with them. Amazing. Who would have thought the Michelin man of the elf world would be such a chick magnet?Look at the ladies lining up to have their photo op with the big guy in the elf suit. Or little guy in the big elf suit? I'm not sure.The large elf man certainly wasn't a Brad Pitt lookalike or anything...so it must have been the suit. Yes, the ladies love a man in a suit.

After the giant elf drama, we were treated to a bit of moving and groovin with Mr. Fix It himself--Bob the Builder.The kids went nuts for Bob and his sidekick Wendy. As they all sang along, "Can we fix it? YES WE CAN!" I started to wonder if Barak Obama had stolen a bit of inspiration from the king of the hard hat. Hmmm...something to ponder.

Next it was Angelina Ballerina's turn to wow the crowd. If there is something four year old girls love, it's a mouse in a tutu. Ours is no exception. Angelina was warmly welcomed.It couldn't be all about the kids though, they needed a bit of entertainment for the adults as well. Enter the Christmas Divas looking very much like bright sparkly Christmas baubles themselves.
Apparently four year old girls also love pretty young women in sparkly dresses. So do two year old boys. Ours was flirting shamelessly with the Christmas Divas when they later left the stage to mingle with the crowd.

Following the Christmas Divas we were treated to a bit of Christmas "rapping". I was a bit put off by their puffy vests, but these guys could hold a tune.There was an intermission. It was nearly 9pm. The Handsome Australian began to wonder if they were ever going to light the tree. The kids were hanging out to see High Five. They weren't going to leave until they'd seen them in all their glittering wonder. So we waited. Then finally, they took the stage and the crowd (who should have probably all been in bed an hour before) erupted! They were so excited.Unfortunately I got caught up in the excitement as well. So this is the best photo I got. Sorry to all the loyal High Five fans out there. I'll try to do better next time. After High Five performed, they brought on a recent finalist from this season's series of Australian Idol. She had a beautiful voice, but we were spent. The kids used their last bit of gas to dance and sing with High Five. We had to pack up and go. It was a quarter past nine and the tree still sat in the dark.

Not sure when they were actually going to light it. As we walked to our car, our four year old declared, "That was the best night in the City of my entire life."

It was a pretty good night. That's Melbourne for ya--fun, free and festive!

Free Friday

2008-11-14T22:56:00.006+11:00

This afternoon I packed the little people in the car and drove them to the big smoke (that's Texan for the City). We had a date with Daddy (that's the little people's code name for the Handsome Australian), some spring rolls, a very large Christmas Tree and plenty of free entertainment...another magical night in a magnificent city. Stay tuned tomorrow for the full details, but here are a few photos as a sneak peek:

Very large tree, as promised

Laugh all you want, wait till you hear his story...

See y'all tomorrow!

Magnificient Melbourne: the dessert edition

2008-11-13T21:33:00.004+11:00

After a lovely dinner at Trunk, the Handsome Australian and I were looking for something special to finish off our night of indulgence in the city. The dessert menu at Trunk just wasn't doing it for us, so we got our bill and headed elsewhere. At this point, the Handsome Australian was really missing the Good Food Guide and was kicking himself for leaving it in the hotel room. We were faced with two options: we could roll the dice and try a place we found along the way, or we could head to somewhere we'd been before and were familiar with.

Not wanting a lovely evening to end on a sour note, we went for option 2. Better the devil you know we thought. So we headed to a really fun and exciting restaurant, Gingerboy. We first ate at Gingerboy almost a year ago with our good friends Azza and Kylie. We were so impressed with our dinner that night that we vowed we would return. As I said before, Melbourne simply has too many restaurants to choose from so it's hard to get back to your favourites because you are too busy trying something new. So, the fact that we vowed to return means it must have been really, really good. We remembered lots of tasty dishes from that night last year, but what was of particular interest to us now was the dessert platter. If memory served they had a tremendous dessert platter with a beautiful selection of desserts. There was something there for everyone.

So Gingerboy it was. When we first arrived, the hostess told us there were no tables in the dining room, but we were welcome to sit at the bar. We weren't completely satisfied with our posie at the bar, but when a place is as busy as Gingerboy is, you really can't be that picky. Luckily, the same hostess approached us only five minutes later and told us she'd had a table come available in the dining room that could be ours in 5 minutes. Yes, please!

We didn't need to spend time pouring over the menu because we knew what we were having. The Gingerboy dessert share plate and 2 lattes, please. The dessert share plate is a fantastic way to try all the delicious desserts on the Gingerboy menu. There were five or six different desserts on the platter--all in miniature. I'd love to name them all off for you, but I was too busy drooling over the plate to take particular note of the descriptions being offered by our server (Lucky for you they have their dessert menu online so you can read them for yourself) The standout of the platter was the sticky black rice with mango and jasmine tea ice cream. You have no idea. Once I tasted that one, I hinted to the Handsome Australian that one of the other desserts on the platter was the tastiest so I could devour the sticky black rice all on my own! Shh...don't tell him. He didnt' suffer--there were five other desserts on the platter. It wasn't like he was without a choice in the matter.

I didn't think we'd be able to polish off the platter. In reality, I think it's best shared between four people, but we were happy to put forth the sacrifice required to finish. Then we were done. Well and truly done. Luckily we didn't have to drive home, we had a short walk around the corner to our lovely serviced apartment.

Once there, we only had one thing on our mind...where would we go for breakfast?