Joan Margaret

Very sadly my maternal Grandmother died this week.  Jonty and I are flying down to Melbourne for the funeral.  Nanna Smith, to use her full name, was a lovely, kind and sweet lady.  Nan and Pop's house was always a welcoming, homely place where all of us grandchildren were made to feel safe and warm.

Pop Smith was a funny old man, short and round with false teeth he used to remove for our amusement - and become an ape!

Nanna taught me lots of womanly skills - cooking, sewing and knitting, and she was always bustling around the kitchen baking and cooking. All done with good humour and much humming of Bing Crosby songs.  She was much loved by our big family and will be very much missed.

But as is the way of life after the old comes something new and so congratulations to Monica who has given birth to a baby girl!  Much joy and celebration and who would have thought we would have seven children between us six years ago!

Prodigal Son Returns

The Accountant returned one night early from his travels abroad for work. He was very much in my good books after bringing home some Christian Dior make-up, L'Oreal mascara and two Vogues - one India, one Hong Kong. Much fun.  Browsing through Vogues from other countries is always one of my favourite things. I'm sure Julie Andrews didn't sing about that one though....

The Accountant also bought the boys some crazy Japanese toys, which they love, and they spent all day yesterday zinging these little spinning tops all over the house, whilst wearing an attractive pair of Batman sunglasses. On a cloudy day.

So the favourite son arrives home and lies on the sofa barking out orders for food and drink to The Grandparents, who either happily run about for him or have a "Get it yourself" attitude.

He has just asked me to "help" him unpack his bag. This means me unpacking for him and sorting out his washing and every other bloody thing as well. The problem is he has both a Wife and Mother as captive audience in the same house, so he knows one of us will cave in the end.

1985

OK so it might be paradise out here in sunny Yarralumla, where there are mountains, lakes, trees and flowers, but I took the brave step of driving out to the shopping centre and it was like another world. And not a pretty world.  Walking through Woden Shopping Centre was a bit like the scene in Harry Potter where the Dementors are sucking the very life and soul from him.

Bustling: yes. Pleasant: yes. Boring: my God yes. I am sure I saw a hay bale blow through a deserted courtyard/plaza whilst I walked back to the car.  Shopping centres or malls are not quite my cup of tea in any country, I prefer High Street shopping, but it was all a bit Stepford Wives in there. With a few mullets thrown in for good measure.

I also had to pick myself off the floor when I bought my quite modest L'Oreal mascara. About eight quid in Boots.  "That will be $27 thanks." Fuck me!

The children in general have been coping quite well with the change of countries.  However little Henry (now six) has just started getting severe homesickness. He wants his bed, his house, his friends, his school, his swimming/gymnastics/karate lessons and the Union Jack blowing in an Autumnal breeze.  He is not a happy chap at the moment. I should have known this was coming because on Day Two he remarked to me "You said we were going to be living in Australia. We are not even living.  It's like we're on holiday - only worse." Find a happy place, find a happy place.........

Paradise Refound

Once the two Davids and I were seeing Bob Downe (hilarious Australian camp comedian) at High Wycombe.   He was picking Australians out of the audience to ask where they were from. David L very enthusiastically raised his hand: "Where are you from?" (Me thinking: "Don't say Canberra, whatever you do don't say Canberra".) David L (loudly) "Canberra!"

Without missing a beat Bob Downe came back with "Canberra? Canberra? I don't even have any jokes about Canberra. Canberra is so boring you spike your own drink when you go out in the evening".

So here we are in Canberra, and it might be boring and home to politics, but to us city-weary folks it is bliss.  We are staying at The Grandparents house. More like a 5-star spa retreat really. The sun never stops shining and it is totally gorgeous.  David and I have got time off for good behaviour tonight and going to the lovely Hyatt Hotel for a drink.  The house is right next to the lake, and we can see Black Mountain from the garden.  The birds are chirping (not swooping!) and blossom of all colours adorns the gardens.

Very peaceful and pretty and lots of nature nearby.  This afternoon I am off to Body Balance. Like a workout class with yoga. Girls - me! Off to a funny old workout class!  Will report back on how it went. I even packed LEGGINGS just in case such an opportunity came up. Luckily I haven't posted any photos on this blog yet, and the very thought of me in LEGGINGS sends a shiver down my spine.  Down my nice warm, 23 degree, well-exercised and flat white coffee spine.

Coffee

Whatever else that can be said about Melbourne - they serve the best coffee in the world.  In fact they are quite snobbish about it and they HATE coffee in other places like Queensland.  Melbournians (I just made that up!) have quite a bee in their bonnet about Queensland. But more of that another time.

The coffee is exquisite.  I like to order a flat white, which is not merely black coffee with hot milk added. A true flat white is an art in itself.  My favourite place is Cafe Gaia, just off Toorak road.  A tiny place open from about 7am, with a gorgeous little street terrace and delicious sounding menu.  I've never had time to stay a while but this morning I ordered a flat white, and just to be cheeky some gluten-free toast with gorgeous Peach and Vanilla Bean Jam.

It was a little slice of heaven right there.  Worth getting out of bed for, and of course feeling virtuous after a walk round the Botanic Gardens.  Still keeping an eye on those magpies. A bit scared.

Old Friends

It is nice to begin conversations again with old friends. By old I obviously mean friends I have known for years, not ageing fogies.  So I finally got around to emailing a bunch of Australian friends to announce my arrival in the country.  Why leave it so long? Three weeks I have been here, and you would think I would be dying for some friendly adult contact.

Mainly it has to do with the fact that I have three children to drag around with me, and also that unlike being on holiday, we have to get on with the business of setting up practicalities - job, car, house, school, dance/yoga, phones etc. 

A friend came to live in England years ago and stayed with us in Oxford whilst he went about the practical business of setting up home. However his priorities were in a completely different order: 1. Phone 2. Internet 3. Car 4.House 5. Job.

Anyway back to the friends of yore.  Usually I am very well organised when it comes to socialising and catching up with Australian friends. But then usually it is a holiday and every day is accounted for. I would be back on the plane again by now and already have seen everyone.  But I do need to see my friends, just so I know that everything is well with the world again and that this country is not as conservative/right-wing/bogan (chav) as it appears.  Worst case scenario "Nickely who?"  Over and out.

Hoop Jumping

Moving countries is all very well - packing up all your belongings, saying goodbye and finally making peace with the fact that things will be very different on the other side of the world.  But the amount of paperwork and annoying administration is another matter entirely.  In England it was relatively easy: make a few phone calls, send a letter, write an email - and in the age of the internet it is still going on (sorry Orange. And BT, Southern Electric, National Insurance etc. I will get around to paying those last bills.....ha ha ha you've seen the last of me suckers!).

So the simple task of enrolling Henry into Primary School went like this:
Me: "Hi. Could I please have the forms to enrol my son please?"
Incredibly Large But Happy Woman in School Office: "Certainly Darl. Oh and you need to include passport, birth certificate, proof of address, utility bill and immunisations certificate".
Me: "Ah. Yes about the utility bill. We don't move in until the 5th. School starts on the 10th. I very much doubt we will have a bill by then".
Woman: (very stoic) "We need to see a bill".
Me: "I have Henry's immunisations all signed in his Child Health Care book from UK."
Woman: "No you need to get an Australian Immunisation Certificate. Blah, blah, blah...."
And on it went about how to go about that annoying little task.

Sweet Baby Jesus. Take my heart, draw blood from my veins and sign my name on these bloody forms, and while we are at it get some live chickens and do a little sacrificial enrolling dance with their blood as well.  Should have been a hippy living in a teepee up at Byron Bay. Smelly but no forms up there I'm sure.

Winter/Back to Black

It has suddenly gone from pretend winter to real winter. Of course silly me only packed to stay at The Cousin's for one night and have absolutely no winter clothes. Not even socks! Bloody freezing now. 

The Accountant was picked up from Ferntree Gully train station last night and so we all had a nice night in.  Tucked into a few of The Cousin's cosmopolitans - made specially diluted for breastfeeding women.

Brian! I need a whole chapter just about that one character. Will think about it.

Mountains

Whilst staying at The Cousin's house I am appreciating waking up each morning to a view of the Dandenong Mountains.  Even though it is suburbia out here, it is still a beautiful country setting, and I am woken by the sounds of sqauwking birds and sun filtering through the gum trees.

Out of the city I feel I am really in Australia as I remember it. Lots of trees and bush and views of mountains.

The difference between England and Australia can be explained by the wildlife.  Whilst the birds in the mother country twitter, Australian birds squawk loudly. They are also very brightly coloured. And occasionally dangerous. As Spring approaches I am remembering that it will soon be Magpie Season, which means that unsuspecting walkers will be swooped and possibly pecked by angry males (birds that is, not your man on the street) and will be screaming and running for cover.

The children do not know about this yet, but next week I will have to prepare them as we head up to Canberra to visit The Grandparents.  Canberra is the King of Magpie Season.  People can be seen on the streets of Canberra going for innocent walks equipped with tennis rackets, ice cream containers for hats, bicycle helmets and big sticks.  An afternoon jaunt will never be the same.

Air Freight. Check!

Lovely. All our air freight stuff arrived at 8:30am this morning and is currently in my cousin, Jacqui's, garage. Been so busy with the children I haven't even opened it yet. But my computer is in there and I'm hoping that when I turn it on....it will actually turn on.  And then I will be free woman once more. Connected to the world by technology! With email! And skype!

Unsuspecting Australian relatives and friends greet me and I say "Whatever. Have you got your laptop with you? I need to check my emails and do my blog." Nice.

Is it possible to be this tired? Clang, clang. Clang, clang. That is the sound of me being chained to the kitchen sink. Feminism never happened and I am back to a 1950s role of mother and wife. Not dancer. Not choreographer. Not even Grand Dame of the Oxford Social Scene. But mama. Ball and chain.  At least the Accountant succeeds in having adult conversation and probably a WHOLE cup of HOT coffee or tea per day. I have that mother thing going on where you have three cups of tea on the go. All of them stone cold. (Monica?)

Anyway, staying at The Cousin's house again. Last night we were giving the children their baths at 4:30pm in an attempt to have an early night. The 3/4 year olds finally slept at 9:40pm. The six year olds at 11pm. They got up at 6:10am. We will be drinking heavily tonight. Later.

Thank God for the Grandparents

We have just had David's parents come and stay to help out whilst we looked for houses and schools in Melbourne and it was a huge help. I really don't know how I will carry on and stay sober and sane without them. Gin o'clock starts earlier every day....

Today we are out near the lovely mountains with my cousin and she is a never-ending source of support. Always good to have someone to laugh at the children's tantrums.

Melbourne is totally gluten-free. Everywhere you go there are signs for gluten-free food, and everytime I mention it, the shop-keeper/person on the street/man in the bar is a Coeliac as well. What is up with Australians and this disease? Don't feel like such a freak now. Or maybe even more so.

Thanks to all the followers of the blog - Emma and Geraldine! x