Five O’clock tomorrow can’t come soon enough. No prizes for guessing that’s when I finish work for the year. It’s been a good year, but it’s been busy and I’m kind of tired and in need of a break. On Friday, after a relaxing morning at home Eddie and I will travel down to Sydney then fly to Western Australia to spend Christmas with his parents and his sister and her husband. Eddie’s mum is a fabulous cook and from past experience I know she’s going to spoil her little boy rotten with all her best dishes, which means I get spoilt rotten by association. *Smug smile*
OK, I’ve decided that this will be my last post for the year and my last post for a quite a while. I don’t know how long. Maybe forever. Maybe not. There have been a few changes this year, the main two being that I started studying again and that we moved from Sydney to the Central Coast. Both changes mean I have less time, less time to sit on the couch with my computer, less time to think about posts, and less time to write them. Of course that’s not the whole story. I also seem to have lost my voice. Which sounds so wanky, but really, it’s gone somewhere and I can’t write without it. And, I’ll admit I had quite selfish reasons for writing this blog, which probably isn’t that surprising considering it’s a personal blog and therefore all about me, which included wanting to write about my life so it made sense to me. For whatever reason, I haven’t really worked it out yet, I don’t feel like I need to do that anymore.
OK, that’s enough of that. I’ve got a recent update and following that, I felt like compiling a list of the posts I wrote that I really liked. so I did. I was going to list the posts you liked as well, but I really only have my stats to go on and I’m not sure the number of times a post is clicked on means that much.
Update
- We dismantled our loft, which is too fancy a name in my opinion for something that only had crawl space, despite the protests of everyone we told except my dear cousin Dom and her husband Damian – bless their hearts. We’ve got heaps more light now and Eddie is going to make an outside table and bench seats with all the salvageable wood.
- There were Christmas Carols at Copa Beach last night. Casey Chambers was there. And every single person who lives here. This place has more community spirit than I’ve seen in a long time.
- There was almost a pine cone incident at the BBQ shop recently when the girl assisting us said you should never ever use pine cones to start a BBQ because the flavour is too strong. We didn’t say a thing at the time, but later we had an extensive conversation about the merits of using pine cones to start any fire, and about how we hadn’t noticed anything wrong with previous BBQs cooked over burning pine cones. Then we wondered if that was just a New Zealand thing.
- It doesn’t matter where we live, I have an inherent ability to attract the attention of unusual people in the street much to Eddie’s bewilderment. Nothing to really worry about so far though.
- Today at our end of year lunch I looked across the harbour and saw one of those enormous boats people like to sail in races. Everyone’s getting ready for the Sydney to Hobart. The boat’s name was LOYAL and I said to my lunch companions “Oh, it’s called Loyal. That’s probably a New Zealand boat.” A closer look saw that everyone aboard was wearing black. And I said “They’re all wearing black, that’s definitely a New Zealand boat.” I got home and googled it and it felt kind of good to know that after thirteen years living away from home I still have enough cultural references to recognise my people.
The posts I liked, starting with the earliest and ending with the latest (and I think it probably means something that the last post I liked was written in April this year)
Shopping goes with… pinky bars
Loving tomatoes and being able to cry aren’t enough
Drifting ungraciously toward my gardening days
How to make and eat afghan biscuits
Jack Black would have crucified me
It was going to be about broke asses but it turned out to be a work whinge
I’d heard that women were too subtle when it came to giving hints about what they wanted in the way of gifts. So last year I decided to solve that problem by writing a post listing five things I wanted to receive for my thirty-eighth birthday. My dear husband Eddie read that list then asked me, in all seriousness, what I would like for my birthday!
With that incident in mind I feel quite confident that I will not receive any of my following suggestions for Christmas presents, which is fine by me because the first suggestion I expect to get in the New Year, the second suggestion is outrageously expensive, and the third suggestion is quite impossible. So here, three things, in no particular order, which I’d like but don’t expect to get for Christmas this year.
- A ginger cat. One like this gorgeous beast I found on flickr the other day (by andycoan)
- A dress. In particular I’d like this Oscar de la Renta dress I found on the ELLE News Blog. And the pink belt. And the cute little pink cardy she has tied around her shoulders.
- A trip to the Faraway Tree for a toffee-shock and a chat with Moon-face and afterwards a climb to the top of the tree where I would hopefully end up in the land of do-as-you-please.
1. A gorgeous ginger cat
2. A gorgeous Oscar de la Renta dress
3. A trip to the Faraway Tree
- I don’t think I’ve mentioned exactly how long our commute to work is, so I’ll get it over with, it’s about two hours. In the morning we drive twenty five minutes from Copa to Woy Woy, making sure to check the surf on the way so we can see what we’re missing out on. Then we catch the train to the city, which takes about one hour and ten to twenty minutes. And at the end of the day we do it all again, except the other way around. Lately, in order to get some exercise I’ve been getting off the train a few stops early in the morning and walking over the Sydney Harbour Bridge to work. And I have to say, pollution aside, it’s a lovely way to start the morning.
- Today we picked up our new (to us) car, a shiny, bright blue, Suzuki Swift, and went for a Sunday drive to Pretty Beach. If I hadn’t eaten such a large breakfast, the leftovers from yesterday’s BBQ, we would have stopped off at Yum Yum Eatery in Hardy’s Bay for lunch. Instead we checked the menu and decided we’d leave our large breakfasts for Saturday mornings and save Sundays for exploring the Central Coast and testing out all the restaurants.
- Finally, this one’s for mum. For those of you who aren’t my mum, I love finding alternative ideas for what she can do with her collection of sheep skulls in the garden. The last one I found in 2007, while Eddie and I were traveling around New Zealand in a van looking for surf. It’s in Papatowai and you can’t tell from the photo, but I’m turning a handle and that freaky looking sheep is riding the bike! The latest I found on one of my favourite design blogs and I like it much better. It would go really nice just above the china cabinet. Instead of the cat plates.
Sheep skeleton riding a bike in Papatowai
Skull wall collection
The other day an elderly couple got off the train in front of us and I felt all nostalgic for the days when I had grandparents when their grandchildren, a boy of about ten years old and a girl of about thirteen years old, came racing down the ramp to meet them shouting “Hey nanna! Hey granddad! You’re here! You’re here!”
When nanna and granddad didn’t say anything I thought they must be tired after their long journey on the train. Their grandchildren were so excited they didn’t seem to notice how quiet their grandparents were and as they walked up the ramp with them they talked excitedly about what they’d been up to that day. Nanna and granddad remained silent. Then they got to the top of the ramp and nanna turned to her granddaughter and said “I heard something about you today.”
Then we raced ahead of them to the carpark because I didn’t want to know what she’d done, well maybe just a little bit, and we were in a hurry to get home and have steak sandwiches for dinner.
Two months ago I sat next to Eddie in our van filled with everything that didn’t go into the removalist’s truck and as we turned onto the Pacific highway and left Sydney behind us for our new place in Copacabana I was only joking a little bit when I turned melodramatically in my seat and reached for the back window and said “But, where are we going?! Where are you taking me?! The City is back that way you know?!” Even though we’d agreed it would be good to get out of Sydney for a while, and I was really looking forward to getting a cat, I’ll admit I had some reservations about my ability to live in a small coastal town after so many years of living in the City.
I grew up in the country a long time ago and when I left I thought I’d never go back. But Eddie grew up in the city and I thought he’d never live in a town with less than one million people. So, after two months of living in Copacabana it’s a relief to me to say we’re both coping with small-town life just fine and I don’t think we’re going to have to go to plan B after all, which was to rent out our new place and move back to somewhere nice on the northern beaches of Sydney.
So, ten reasons why we’re not going with plan B
- We’re finally going to get a cat after christmas and I don’t have to ask anybody’s permission!
- The surf here is really uncrowded in comparison to the city beaches, even when it’s good.
- I’ve sat out on our deck with a book and a cup of tea every weekend since we’ve moved here and not once have I had to worry about intruding on the neighbour’s arguments.
- I haven’t bumped into Dennis or anyone like him for two whole months!
- We can’t feel or hear the hum of the city at night anymore and that’s kind of restful
- On Saturday mornings, after I’ve swept up as many leaves as I can, we go to a cafe at the beach for eggs benedict. I have a coffee and Eddie has a hot chocolate and we read the weekend paper.
- Walking in our garden is like an extreme sport. We never know what critter we’re going to disturb next. Ah, no, I’m not sure why I’ve added this to a list about what I like about the place
- After I’ve been digging in the garden a blue-winged kookaburra will appear in one of the trees around our house and periodically fly down to snatch a juicy tidbit crawling around in the dirt then take it back to the tree and give it a good thwack against a branch before swallowing it whole.
- The commute to work by train is better than I thought it would be. The view between Woy Woy and Hawkesberry is beautiful, and the rest of the journey is perfect for sleeping, reading, and studying.
- On Wednesday nights when we get home from work and I’ve forgotten to get something out of the freezer we go to the cafe/bar at the beach for open mic night. I have mamma’s meatballs or the mushroom risotto. Eddie hasn’t settled on a regular meal yet, so he’s working his way through the menu. The service is really friendly, there’s always a nice crowd, and there’s always someone ready to sing a few songs. And something about these evenings encapsulates everything I love about living in Copacabana.
- When I got up this morning I thought I’d go for a walk along the beach, but I had breakfast instead and now it’s far too hot to do anything other than walk out on our deck and say “Phew, it’s really hot isn’t it” then go back inside to sit on the couch and read some more of my Sookie Stackhouse novel, which is doing a beautiful job of relaxing my mind after the last few weeks of semester.
- The temperature has just gone up a few more degrees because Eddie thought it would be a good idea to PUT OUR LAMB ROAST IN THE OVEN. I know it was what we planned while we were walking around the supermarket yesterday, but we were in air-conditioning then, and we’re not now.
- With the warmer weather come shorts and sleeveless tops and the annual struggle to not give into the pressure to get a tan. Some years I win and some I don’t. Living in a beach-side suburb makes it especially hard because everyone around me wears a tan. And if I stay white the looks I get are the looks you’d get if you wore shorts and a t-shirt in winter.
- Oh good. There’s a cool change coming at 10pm. I’m going to get some sleep tonight.
- It’s Saturday morning. Check.
- I’m not at work. Check.
- The sun is shining. Check.
- There are a few small waves rolling in at the beach. Check.
- I have a take-home-exam to write this weekend… Check.
Eddie: *In lounge* Come and check out this, it’s a baby weta.
Me: *Sitting on bed in bedroom looking out window at wall* Really? I think you should come in here and check out my new pet.
Eddie: *Walks into bedroom, then hesitates* Is it on the inside or outside of the window?
Me: *Would I be sitting here this calm if it was inside* Definitely outside.
Eddie: *Sees my new pet* That’s a male funnel-web!
Me: Is it?! Oh. I thought it was a huntsman.
Eddie: A huntsman?! It looks nothing like a huntsman.
Me: Doesn’t it? I thought, spider, big, a little bit furry, huntsman.
Eddie: … I’m gonna go and spray it. *Walks out to get our trusty fly spray*
Me: Well, just make sure you don’t get too close. Do funnel webs do that jump on your face thing?
Eddie: … *Sprays spider. Sprays spider some more*
Me: Gosh, that’s a lot of spray.
Spider: *Ha! I am a male funnel-web. Watch me and tremble as I count to 180 without breathing or moving even one of my eight fabulous legs*
Eddie: *Walks back into bedroom to observe the effect of his defensive attack from a safe position*
Me: … It didn’t even flinch. Look at it not flinching.
Spider: *Now see me as I walk, in a straight line down the wall into your garden and on into one of the many small holes in your crappy lawn*
Eddie: …
Me: Bloody hell.
After Naomi James sailed single-handed around the world in 1978 she wrote a book about it called Woman alone, which my Dad’s sister bought and gave to my family for Christmas in 1979. Even though it was clearly addressed to our entire family, I considered it my book, because with a bit of tweaking and leaving out all that embarrassing boy girl stuff (I was nine at the time), I felt as though Naomi’s story could be mine. There were quite a few differences of course, but it’s possible to gloss over all sorts of inconvenient facts when you’re nine and desperately trying to claim what’s yours from your little brother and sister.
Three years before she sailed around the world by herself, Naomi, who was from New Zealand by the way, met a man in France called Rob. He was a sailor and I guess Naomi must have liked him because she went with him to England two days later and began sailing with him five times a week even though she felt seasick whenever she stepped on a boat! And it wasn’t long before she was reading Rob’s good friend Chay Blyth’s book Impossible voyage, about sailing single-handed around the world, then Chichester’s, then Knox-Johnston’s, then Alec Rose’s, after which she decided she’d like to sail single-handed around the world too. So, she did.
Naomi was about the same age as my Mum - she even looked a little bit like her in some of her photos – when she completed her voyage and she had been sailing one year less than I had when she started her voyage, albeit more often and in boats much larger than the Optimist I sailed. And most important of all, she was a woman from New Zealand, who had sailed all by herself, around the entire world. There weren’t many girls who sailed at our local yacht club at Lake Mahinapua in the 1970s, so it was something of a revelation to discover that a woman who seemed so ordinary could do something so extraordinary.
I can’t remember if Naomi James’s experience inspired me to want to sail around the world back then, but if it did, even for a short while, it eventually slipped away along with all the other feelings of inspiration we experience when we see people do great things.
Thirty one years later, 16 year old Jessica Watson, inspired by Jesse Martin’s successful attempt to be the youngest person to sail solo, non-stop and unassisted around the world, is nearly three weeks into her attempt to be the youngest person to sail solo, non-stop, and unassisted around the world. She caused a bit of a furor a couple of months ago when she was hit by a 60,000-tonne coal tanker on her way from the Sunshine Coast to Sydney to start her voyage. I guess a lot of people have sailed around the world since Naomi James in 1978, breaking all sorts of records, but apart from a fleeting interest in Jesse Martin’s voyage a couple of years ago I haven’t really paid any attention, until now.
You see, when I was 14 I sailed a nine foot Starling called Nautical Nut every Saturday during the summer at the Queen Charlotte Yacht Club in Picton; I had been sailing for eight years, and had spent about two or three of those years successfully dodging the Picton Ferry as it sailed in and out of Picton Harbour. So, one sunny afternoon in 1984 as I sailed down the middle of the harbour and looked back over my shoulder I wasn’t surprised or that worried to see the 13,621 tonne Arahura Ferry round the point and head into Picton as she had many times before. I checked the wind; I checked the Ferry’s apparent speed; I made a calculated guess about whether she was going to veer right and turn around tight in the far corner of the harbour then back into her bay or keep going straight ahead and turn around in the middle of the harbour. I decided she was going to veer right, so rather than head off to the left-hand side of the harbour I continued sailing straight ahead. A couple of minutes later the Arahura changed direction and we were both sailing straight down the middle of the harbour. Damn, it was going to be close. Then the wind died away and I stalled right where the Ferry was going to turn around. I began desperately working the tiller to move out of the way, but if the Arahura hadn’t finally seen me and slammed on its brakes, churning the water a rather lovely shade of pale green, we definitely would have collided.
So, when I heard about Jessica’s run in with the tanker I was sympathetic. Those big ships, in my personal opinion, can be a bit like four wheel drives. They’re so used to smaller craft scattering before their heft that they can become a little careless about the importance of indicating to others what they’re going to do next. But, I certainly learnt the importance of scattering in future, because you can’t argue with a 13,621 tonne Ferry, or a 63,000 tonne cargo ship for that matter.
Two years after my incident with the Ferry, when I was 16, the same age Jessica is now, it never would have occurred to me that I could sail around the world by myself in a 33 foot yacht. Though I did consider sailing my Starling from Endeavor Inlet to Picton one summer. But, this time, no amount of glossing over facts could make Jessica’s story feel like something I would do. And that’s OK with me. The fact that today a 16 year old girl can take inspiration from the experiences of others, and not be put off by the furor of the public or an accident with a cargo ship, and go ahead with her dream to be the youngest person to sail solo, non-stop, and unassisted around the world is extraordinary. I wish her all the best and I’ll definitely be following her trip.
