Tour de Texas

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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.