With Bijou-bi

If you were to overhear a conversation between my sister and me you might require an interpreter to decipher it. My sister has basically created her own weird language based on thirty odd years of mixing English, French, Japanese, Aussie colloquialisms, cockney rhyming slang, weird BBD sayings, short forms, inside jokes and combinations thereof. We also rarely if ever call each other by our first names. And to explain the origins of any of the names we do have for each other (Bijou-bi, Jimmy, O-face, Mon hubu, Natoyan, Poler, OASAMVBF, to name a few) would require more time and inclination than I'm sure anyone would want to invest.

We are sisters who have to pack years worth of bonding into short bursts of two weeks of mayhem. I'm sure anyone who lives away from loved ones can relate. And much like the way ordinary words like drink, dinner or party immediately become more fun when you insert the word birthday in front of them, so too do these occurrences when I add With Bijou.

Eating ramen.

Going for lunch.


Visiting a winery.


Having a coffee.

Going to zumba. [Photo removed by author due to embarrassment issues.]

Hanging Out

It's weird, but one of the things I look forward to doing when I visit my parents is the laundry. I know. When you signed on for reading a travel blog of Australia you were hoping for something a little more exciting than household chores. But it's true. It's because here we hang the laundry out on a line.

I can't quite capture it in words. Of course it depends on the day, but generally the sun is warm and pleasant. The air is a glorious mix of fresh, country air, clean laundry and a faint hint of eucalyptus from the beautiful gum trees. There is a fig tree right beside the house. The view is of the rolling Adelaide hills. A cow might walk by in the neighbouring paddock. The clincher though is the cacophony of Aussie birdsong. The tweeting, cawing, warbling, chirping, laughing, twittering calls all mingle together to create a serenade I've only ever heard in this country. It's like nowhere else. To say it soothes my suburban soul is an understatement.

And then, when it's all hung out, there is the satisfaction of standing back and looking at this testimony to the fact that my family is here, on my parents' farm. I know it's silly. But seeing my family's clothing, from Sarah's little socks all the way up to hubby's Tshirts hanging there, blowing in the eucalyptus tinged air with the hills as backdrop, it's just... good.



It's really good.

It's going to be hard to leave.

Fun with Acrophobia

I only realized the extent to which I'm afraid of heights a year and a half ago while atop Gaudi's Dr. Seuss like creation, La Sagrada Familia. We waited about two hours in line to go up that crazy ass building only to be tortured by a winding spiral staircase with no handrail on the way back down. One would have thought I'd learned my lesson and would henceforth steer clear of crazy structures requiring climbing. And I have. Until two days ago when I was faced with this:



So what, you're saying. Looks perfectly benign. Why is this crazy woman trying to vilify something as harmless as a smiling rocking horse? It's because this is Gumeracha, home of the Biggest Rocking Horse in the World!!!! Look again. See those little dots on the top of it's head? That's us!!! Why?? Why, I ask? Why would someone create this evil thing that children will want to climb thereby forcing their poor acrophobic parent to accompany them on the horrific journey? If I thought climbing down an insanely high structure was hellish, it was only because I hadn't thought to combine it with first watching my two precious babies climbing down an insanely high structure. Here we are going up:













I wish I could have stayed with my mum. This is more my speed.



If you ever find yourself in Gumeracha, South Australia, I would advise avoiding this insanity at all costs. And speaking of costs, I paid two dollars each for this nightmare. Oh, but it was worth it, they gave me this:




And then we went to their petting zoo which was an episode out of When Goats Attack. But that's another story...

Like many suburban moms, I stress about my kids not getting enough vitamin D, spending too much time in front of the TV or playing DS. I wish there were less Wii and more we. So it really does my heart good to see the homemade, low tech, old school fun they've been having here. So far this week they've spent time:

1. Feeding Horses. Papa invites them out twice a day to go with him as he drives around the farm giving the horses their feed.

2. Going on a Treasure Hunt. I told you how some of my best memories were of the treasure hunt my aunt and uncle did for us. So my sister, because she's the best sister ever and awesome in general, put one together for Max and Sarah. Just look at the fun they're having here.

3. Playing Boggle. I so loved playing this game at my grandparents' house with my family when I was a kid. So full circle moment playing now with my kids. We were in fits of laughter over my dad constantly coming up with words we never heard of (e.g. "bene," a prayer or boon. Uh, of course Dad) or trying to pass off words the letters of which weren't actually connected. The surprise was Sarah who I didn't think would be able to play but who held her own with words like "reset" and "tuba."

4. Petting Koalas and Kangaroos. What trip to Australia would be complete without seeing the local flora and fauna?>

























5. Building a Hay Fort. Do you remember how much fun it was to build a fort when you were a kid? My sister and I used to use blankets and TV trays. Snow in the winter. I never had anything as awesome as this:


They had been gone a long time and I was just starting to get worried, seeing as how they were out alone with my dad, aka Danger Man (cf. earlier post about how he nearly hit me with his car). But it was the most excited I've seen them so far when they raced in, breathlessly demanding I come out and see what they had made with Papa. They also carved walking sticks and my dad cheerily informed me I would have had a conniption if I had seen what they used to make them. I decided not to ruin it by asking further questions.

So next BBD (as Dad's also known; short for Big Bad Dad) says he's going to teach Max how to shoot tin cans. What do you think? Am I crazy for considering it?

F & F

So I'll explain F&F. F&F are my cherished Aunt Fiona and Uncle Frank. When my sister and I were little and it was our family who was doing the Canada-Australia jaunt, Uncle Frank and Aunt Fiona were the highlights of our stay. They’re the kind of cool aunt and uncle who would do things like take us away on overnight trips in their camper van (that’s Aussie for trailer), hitting the local fairs and attractions and letting us sleep on the beach. Uncle Frank would create elaborate scavenger hunts with rhyming clues at each location and a prize for each player at the end. He even used his camcorder and editing skills to make a movie with us in it (this is starting to sound creepy, but it’s totally not!) complete with location shoots and trick cinematography. They are responsible for some of my most favourite childhood memories.

The little surprise I mentioned is about Fiona. Fiona is a gifted storyteller. She could recount a trip to the bank and have you at the edge of your seat. She is also an amazing singer. Sometimes at family gatherings we are able to talk her into giving us a song and the results are always mesmerizing. So it's always the best when I can get her to tell the story about her aunt living in England and then sing the accompanying song. The story goes that seven year old Fiona was sent on a trip from Scotland where she lived to England to visit her aunt. Her aunt, who was married to an Englishman and incredibly homesick for Scotland, taught Fiona this song so she could go home and sing it to her mother, Fiona’s grandmother. It’s a lovely, wistful little song, the theme of which I can certainly relate to, and it brings me to tears every time.

So what I’ve done, you see, is I’ve taught Sarah the song. I’m going to attempt to get Sarah to sing it for Fiona and I’m also going to attempt to get it on video. As you can see, there are a lot of variables. Starting with child performances. Sarah will sing it fine for me now, but who knows if she’ll do it in front of a bunch of people most of whom she hasn’t seen in a very long time. It’s a crap shoot. But I figure it’ll be fun to try. I’ll let you know how it goes…

And after about 30 hours travelling...

...We're here!
I won't bore you with the gory details of the horror of sitting in the two middle seats of the middle aisle with a six year old for fourteen hours straight (packed plane meant we couldn't sit together), especially when the plane we were on didn't have the personal entertainment system on the back of each seat. I know Louis CK addressed our feeling of entitlement with regard to air travel (click here if you haven't seen it) and I tended to agree with him at the time,

but it didn't stop me from feeling completely incensed and ripped off when I boarded the plane and realized that I was going to have to survive that marathon flight without being able to sedate my child with the latest from the Disney channel. Luckily I spent a few hours loading up her iPod before we left.

We ended up having six hours to kill in Sydney so we visited the aquarium in Darling Harbour. It is such a fantastic aquarium with, among other things, glass tunnels that you can walk through while the fish swim all around you. But right now they also have a special Lego showcase on so there were these amazing statues and murals made entirely out of Lego! The kids loved it and I was pretty fascinated myself.





Of course as fun as that all was what we really wanted to do was just get to Adelaide. You know when you've been waiting for something for so long, anticipating and thinking about it for weeks and weeks and then when it happens it's a bit of a let down? Well this is completely not like that at all. I really wanted to get some shots of all the airport hugging and kissing and general mayhem but I was preoccupied to put it mildly. The gang was all there (minus Toddy. Somebody's gotta work!).

I don't know how to put into words how wonderful it is, when you've been away from your family for so long, to just do everyday things together.

This morning, after taking the kids out to pick mulberries from the garden, I chatted with Nat in her kitchen while I washed dishes and she cut vegetables. And it was awesome. So, so great. I continually remind myself to soak it all in.

But there are down sides too. Like how my dad almost hit me with the car this morning. I was out jogging and he was driving one way while looking another. As you do. But that's all in a day when you're hanging out with Big Al. And the key word is almost. All's well that ends well.

Heading Down Under...

Okay, so I’ve decided to temporarily commandeer my List of 5 blog (I know, not much to commandeer these days) in an attempt to keep a travel blog for our family Australia trip. If you are asking yourself, why in the world do I care about a suburban family’s trip Down Under, I completely understand. I advise you to click away right now and find something more pertinent / entertaining. Perhaps the latest post on Muammar Gaddafi or um, say Charlie Sheen, since they both seem equally ubiquitous and, you know, bat shit.
But if you are interested in something a little more light hearted with a bit less civil unrest / porn star activity then stick around.

People often say to me that it must be difficult living so far away from your family. And most of the time it does. Most of the time it sucks in a big way. (Cue violins) In my adult life I have never experienced a spontaneous shopping trip with my beloved sister or popping round to my parents’ for Sunday dinner. (Okay, violins can stop now.) But this is the upside. All of my fun family goodness (as well as a little bit of inevitable family drama, I’m sure) squeezed into two weeks. Starting on Sunday with one of the perks of having loved ones far away: The Airport Pickup.

Let’s see. My mum and dad both visited in 2010 but I haven’t seen my sister in over a year. Hubby and the kids haven’t been to Oz in four years. They’ve never met their little nephew/cousin. When they see him at the airport in Adelaide it will be for the first time. I think they’re all coming to the airport, including the adored F&F. (More on them later.) In today’s “reality” TV world, perhaps it doesn’t compare to the partially manufactured drama of The Bachelor or whatever that Snookie show is, but in my little life, The Airport Pickup is all the drama I need or want.

And needless to say,

I. Can’t. Wait.


(Oh, btw, I’ve got a fun little surprise for one of the Fs that I want to tell you about later. Nothing big, just something I know she would get a kick out of. But it may or may not work out…)