Returning to a new normal

This time nine years ago Mr Awesome and I were patiently waiting for the May 8th to roll on by. For on that day we would be able to pick up the keys to our new home.

I was some seven months pregnant with Zany and we had just spent the last six months living with my parents in the hope to save enough money so we could put a deposit on a place to call our own. The thought of never having to move again excited me greatly. 

Fast forward to now mind you and I have just spent the last two hundred and seventy days essentially moving every three to four days. Oh how times change!

There is no doubt that #ouradventureofalifetime was beyond awesome. In fact my only complaint is that it didn’t go for longer. But I guess all good things must come to an end. And as the song rightly points out every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s ending. 

So while I am temporarily saying farewell to #ouradventureofalifetime I am also saying hello to #oursouthwestadventure as we settle into life in the south west of Western Australia. Which I must admit I am pretty excited about, saying that we now live in the South West has a certain ring to it that my inner cowgirl really enjoys.

Yesterday saw us pick up our keys to our new home. A small 4x2 that after living in Edna for so long actually feels like a mansion. The girls excitedly ran from room to room trying to decide who would get which room. They have never had a room to themselves before.

We will slowly move our things over in the next few days. It is crazy to think how quick we were able to accumulate stuff once we decided to stay in one spot.

Next week the girls will start school and hopefully jobs for Mr A and I will magically appear sooner rather than later. Life will slip into a new type of normal, though I hope to maintain some adventure feel to it all. Life should always be an adventure.

One of the great things about returning to normal and four walls is the return of large quantities of high speed internet. With that comes the opportunity to blog more and sharing stories on a much more regular basis.

Not only will I be able to actively rejoin #teamIBOT but I will also be back to hosting Thankful Thursday. A super big thanks to Sarah for taking care of it while I was adventuring. Please come over and share some thanks with me on Thursday.

Joining in with Jess for IBOT 

On pushing and knowing when you need not to.

The other day, or perhaps even last week, (my days feel to often seamlessly merge from one to another so keeping track of time is easier said than done, though I must admit it has never really been one of my strong points) I wrote about making it to the top of Stove Hill. It was a post that has been floating around in my noggin since the moment I conquered that pile of rocks and dirt. 

In my minds eye it was supposed to be about how good it feels to push oneself. How the feeling of achievement was worth the effort, no matter how hard that effort was. And I guess to some extent I did manage to convey that. Only as it too often the case with what I write, it somehow didn’t capture the true essence of what I wanted to say. Which is an absolutely ridiculous thing to say because if I have written something how can it not be what I want to say? Deep huh?

As I was coming down the hill the words I wanted to share were forming sentences in my head. My brain was buzzing with ideas. Of course by the time I actually made it home there were children to feed and a husband that needed picking up. A husband that I was so eager to pick up that when I left I forgot to unplug the car fridge and consequently drove around with an extension cord hanging out the back of the car. All of which I have earmarked as a story for another day mind you. My point for now was that once I got home life, as it so often does, distracted me and I never got to write those wondrous words.

Going out for that particular run that day reminded me of how much I loved running. With all our adventuring running had taken a bit of a back seat to. Though after conquering Stove Hill I was determined to push running back to the forefront. In fact I was determined to just push myself in as many ways as possible. 

One of the revelations I had on that day was that I am an easy street rider. Rarely do I push myself out of my comfort zone. A fact I was planning on changing after this run. Having just pushed myself beyond all comfort zones known to man (or at least this wo-man) and conquering what had once seemed unachievable I was essentially ready to take on the world and push myself at every possible opportunity.

And for maybe a week I did. 

And I felt awesome. 

My pushing mainly revolved around running but it was a start and that was all that mattered.

my running track of recent times

And then I stopped. 

And looking back now I can’t even recall the what or the why behind my non pushing. I guess life just got in the way (again).

A few weeks ago I decided to do the local Australia Day Fun Run. There was a 10km or 5km option. Suddenly remembering my desire to push myself I signed up for the 10km. Since there was only a little over two weeks till the big day I diligently started running as much as I could.

To say it was hard running again was an understatement. But it felt so awesome to be pushing myself I loved every minute of it. While where we are staying at the moment is incredibly beautiful and I love every minute of it, there is not exactly a good firm running path. 

There are lots of paddocks and sandy sides of the road but not a designated running path like I have become accustomed to in the past. Though I didn't really mind as it was just another way in which I was able to push past my comfort zones.

Only just under a week out from the run tragedy struck and when I went for my run my shins felt like they were on fire! 

As I tried to soldier on and push my way through the pain my mind went into overdrive trying to come to terms with what was happening. Was this a sign I should forget the fun run or was this the ultimate test in pushing past my comfort zones? 

You see until this point my entire running journey had been focused on not pushing myself too hard. I have always been fearful of injuries and in my mind the sure fire way to an injury was to push your body too hard. Something I had until this point successfully avoided. 

After much internal battling and feeling like one of the world's biggest failures I made the decision to not push myself any further. There was no point in sustaining an injury when I have (until now) successfully avoided doing so. 

Being an eternal optimist I secretly hoped that by resting I would have some kind of miraculous recovery and be able to run my race.

Whether that was the case or not you will have to wait and find out. For today is Tuesday and for the first time in what feels like forever I plan to join in with Essentially Jess for IBOT only Tuesday is nearly over so I must get a wriggle on. Do pop back in a few days for the rest of my tale though

Things I Know About Mobile Phones and Not Having One.

It has been some ten days since I was last able to hold a working phone in my hot little hands. 

How I have survived this long I know not. How I am supposed to survive any longer seems almost unimaginable.

For some fifteen years I have been the proud owner of a mobile phone. 

Fifteen years I tell you is a blooming long time to become attached to something. I have seen first hand how the mobile phone transformed from a heavy brick needing it’s own bag to the slip in your top pocket, hold the world in the palm of your hand that it is today.

I had a mobile well before I even had anyone else I could call with a mobile phone. Having a job selling them meant that it was pretty much expected I buy one for myself. Back then I remember going to telecommunication conferences where companies promised that before long our trusty mobiles would become part and parcel of everyday life. They would have the capacity to take photos, store countless contact details and even quite possibly connect to the world wide web. (Which back then was what the internet was more commonly referred to.) I was equally parts dubious about such possibilities as I was in awe. As if video calls will ever be anything more than part of a science fiction movie?

Yet here I am, all those years later. Mourning the death of my very own little piece of science fiction. If only the whole waterproof qualities had been adequately developed by now.

I know that the first few days without my beloved device were much easier than the last few.

I know that public phone boxes are not as easy to locate as what they once where. I wonder if Superman struggles with this as well?

I know that some would say I should embrace this opportunity to live in the moment a little more. 

I know that sometimes having a phone actually helps you survive the moment a little easier. Take today for example. Bather shopping with a teenager. I was forced to sit outside the change room for what felt like hours staring at the blank walls while she tried on endless pairs of bikinis. Having a phone would have eased my burden no end.

I know that in the absence of my phone my beloved followers have missed some of the most mundane moments of my life and I wonder how the will survive. 

I know (or at least like to think) that sharing my relentless battles with motherhood via social media is bound to make at least one person’s day.

I know that sharing my relentless motherhood battles on social media somehow makes it all seem a little less of a battle.

I know I have checked the status repair some seven hundred times in the last few days.

I know the waiting for the return of a new device is driving me insane.


I know that the thought of carrying on into the distant future without a mobile device is unfathomable and impossible to comprehend. It really is a case of life as we know it ceasing to exist.

I know that I love being able to share my woes with the likes of Ann and Grace and their awesome link ups, makes up for some of the attention I have missed out on via social media.

A bit bumpy, but all's well that ends well

By the time we reached Katherine Mr Awesome and I had decided that our best option was to bunk down in a motel for the night. Not exactly the start we were hoping for but the thought of unpacking everything just for one night was a little daunting. Especially since we were both on the verge of exhaustion and running on empty. By not having to pack everything up the next day we would be able to get the elusive early morning departure.

As it turned out staying in accommodation for the night was the best idea we could ever had had.

Shortly before we arrived at our destination Zany started to mention that she felt a little unwell. Being the parents of the year that we are we paid her no heed at put it down to motion sickness and staring at her iPod screen for too long. By the time we were checked into our room and showering for dinner Zany was curled up in a ball and fast asleep. 

Hearing the chatter about our options for tag teaming for dinner though she woke up and declared she was feeling well enough to come with us. Sadly her recovery was only short lived and before we had even ordered she was asking to return to the room. 

Mr Awesome left me to order and escorted her back. By the time he returned my stomach had decided to go out in sympathy with Zany’s and I was forced to make a quick departure. Before long I was curled up fast asleep as well hoping that the little food I had managed to consume would stay put. Sadly it was not to be though.

What ensued felt like one of those nights that just never seems to end. If I was jumping out of bed to race to the bathroom for my own needs then a child was calling out across the room asking for a drink or something or other.

So much for our early morning getaway.

Shortly after 7.30 I gave up with trying to rest and decided to face the day. Zany was feeling marginally better than the night before which was pleasing. I felt almost human which was even more pleasing. Sadly though Mr A was not feeling so crash hot.

Eventually we managed to sort ourselves out enough to hit the road. Knowing that we only had about a two hour drive made things easier. We had decided to head to Flora National Park. It is situated about 135 km southwest of Katherine. 

We arrived just before lunchtime. Though because we had skipped breakfast everyone was ravenous. Unpacking as quickly as we could, it wasn’t long before Lovely was in charge of cooking some sausages. For some reason though by the time they were cooked everyone’s hunger had somehow disappeared. Apparently a stash of mandarins had been located and devoured while they waited for the snags to cook.

Mr Awesome then took the two little girls to get firewood and I used it as an opportunity to catch up on some of the sleep I had missed during the night. It never ceases to amaze me how that the girls always prefer to ask me the questions over their dad. Even if it means waking me while he is sitting there bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Once I came to terms with the fact that I was still not go to get any sleep we headed down to the river for a bit of a gander. Unfortunately it is populated by crocodiles so swimming is out of the question. As is the inflatable canoe and dingy.

By the time we returned from our little walk it was time to start dinner. A nice and easy pasta, that halfway through cooking Zany informed me she would not eat on account of not liking it. Which apparently she has told me on numerous occasions so why do I not remember these things? 

Ah well, I don’t remember these things because last time I cooked it (not two weeks ago as well) she hoed into it like there was no tomorrow. Which normally I would not be bothered about in the slightest but I had not accounted for eating any this day as I thought she didn’t like it!

Kids huh?

I momentarily contemplated reminding her of all this but then couldn’t be bothered. It was just as easy to open a tin of spaghetti and give that to her. Which with her upset tummy still threatening to explode seemed like a much more feasibly option than a rich and creamy pasta.

After dinner Mr A lit the fire and the girls found sticks for toasting marshmallows on. Suddenly it felt like we really were on holidays.

Getting Away

In a bid to have a relaxing weekend surrounded by the tranquility of our most favourite camping grounds Friday was a flurry of activity. As I mentioned in my late night ramble as I tried to unwind from it all there was much to be done before we could hit the road. 

There were last minute additions to camping gear and food to be purchased. Not to mention all the washing that needed to be done so that not only did we had clothes to take away with us but also some clean ones to return home to and the tidying up that I just knew I wouldn’t want to do up our return. I had no idea that the preparations necessary for relaxation were so intense.

Actually that is a lie. I did have, I has just selectively blocked it from my memory else we would never get away.

By all accounts Edna the Eagle (our caravan) should be fine with a bit of a rough track. While not technically an off road model her previous owners had modified the suspension and raised her higher of the ground than her factory floor sisters.  Before we actually set off on #ouradventureofalifetime though we wanted to give here a bit of a test run on some dirt that we were at least a little a familiar with.

The idea was to head out to Umbrawarra Gorge. A place that we have been to many times before that involves a rather exciting dirt track. Sure at three and a bit hours it was a bit of a drive but the thought spending some time at a place we all love so much made it seem worth the while.

apparently we weren't the only ones that thought
getting was a great idea

Given the long weekend we expected there to be lots of other like minded souls hitting the road. Though we did expect most of them to be choosing the road that led to the Barunga Festival. We were also under the misguided impression that few people knew of our destination.

After a break of day start that involved almost as much rushed and action packed movement as the previous day we were packed and ready to go only thirty minutes later than Mr Awesome’s requested departure time. Which to me feels like we basically left on time.

Ignoring Lovely’s pleas for Maccas and my desire for coffee we powered off. It was a bit of a lesson learnt for both of us. She was told to have breakfast before we left and due to me being up too late the night before I didn’t get up with enough time or energy to make coffee. Live and learn right?

After an hour on the road, which was slower than normal on account of excess traffic and pulling Edna, the cries for food from the back seat were hitting the unbearable level. The two younger ones had joined in with Lovely. It was like a strength in numbers kind of unison or something. They momentarily lapsed once we passed the final McDonalds but quickly picked it up again five minutes later.

Due to my lack of caffeine and my own rumbling tummy it wasn’t long before I quietly said to Mr A that I thought he should stop at the next roadhouse in the hope they sold egg and bacon sandwiches. I also reasoned it would be a great chance to break my fifty dollar note so as to make it easier to leave the camping fees in the honesty box that gives no change.

Apparently everyone else on the road was having the same conversation because when we arrived at said roadhouse it felt like half of Darwin was also there.

Sadly there were no egg and bacon sangas. Instead we had to make do with a couple of ham and cheese toasties plus some rather dodgy pork and cheese and beef and cheese ones. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that and at least it filled the gapping holes in our stomachs.

Little did I know though about it being a sign of things to come.

Eventually we made it to the turn off that would lead to our final destination. The highly anticipated dirt road to see just how sturdy old Edna really was. Mr A pulled over and took the stabilising sway bar thingies off and we were ready to go.

Oh my goodness and holy dooly.

For some reason the corrugation drove me insane. It went completely through me and left my poor little brain feeling like it was rattling around the empty hollows of my skull. Cue intense headache. All of which may possibly been related to the lack of caffeine for I was still without my daily hit. As luck would have it the road house coffee machine was out of order when we passed through.

To make matters even worse as we approached our beloved campsite we were greeted with the most horrid of sights.

Other people. And lots of them.

So many in fact there was no room for us!!

Cue complete and utter devastation.

After slowly trawling through the entire area it was evident that there was just no possible way we were able to squeeze ourselves in anywhere. And with that before I even had a chance to process what was going on Mr A was back on the dirt road and heading back to the highway.

“We will just go to Edith Falls” he said.

“If it is packed out here then what chance will we have at Edith?” I said. Trying to not take my disappointment out on him as deep down I knew it wasn't really his fault though I desperately wanted to hold him accountable.

All the while fielding questions from the girls as to why we have just turned around as opposed to getting out and setting up camp.

Tensions were high to say the least.

By the time we reached the highway my headache had multiplied tenfold and my patience had completely disappeared. I shut my eyes in a bid to make it all go away and save myself from having to answer any more questions or make any decisions. All this really did though was put my neck at a funny angle giving me a creak in my neck and something else to complain about.

So much for a relaxing getaway.

As we pulled into the entrance to the camping grounds at Edith Falls we couldn’t help but notice one of the gates was closed. The sign attached stated that there were no caravan spaces available only cars with tents and small vans. Mr A suggested we go in and talk to them just in case they could squeeze us in somewhere. Edna may have room for all of us but she by no means a huge space taker. Of course I shot him down in flames and stated we were not a tent nor a small van. A small van being an all in one unit that had beds on the back seat.

Given it had been nearly four hours since we left home he decided to pull over and give everyone the chance to stretch their legs and utilise the toilets. Lovely began asking for ice cream the moment she saw the kiosk. Her request quickly shot down in flames because I was just in the mood for saying no.

After relieving myself I began to feel marginally more human and when she asked again I was in a slightly better frame of mind and said why not. After all none of this was their fault and I did have some money in my pocket. The change in fact from the sandwiches earlier that was meant to be our camping fees.

I am so incredibly glad that I had a change of heart.

You see as we were paying for the ice cream another customer asked for a coffee. The attendant told her she would need to wait a few minutes till the boss, who was out seeing what sites were actually available, returned. This of course prompted me to ask if by chance there was any room for us. And would you believe it?

There was.

Hallelujah and praise the Lord. I almost instantly began writing my next Thankful Thursday post in my head.

Mind you my thankfulness was quickly on the way out when they said they had no Eftpos and it was cash only. Having just spent all my cash on ice-creams and all.

Thankfully though we were able to scrounge together enough from the bottom of my bag and Mr A’s wallet to see us through. Talk about edge of your seat though!

Of course getting to spend time hanging around here did make it all worth the while.

Check out my Snapshots of Us post for more images from the weekend and check out Essentially Jess for more great #IBOT posts

Living in the moment, planning for the future

Before too long this will be
my constant view

Lately these words seem to be constantly floating around my pretty little head. Living for the moment, planning for the future. I can't help but wonder if it is possible to do both. To me they just don't seem to go together.

There is no denying that I am very much a live for the moment kind of girl. I always have been. And for the most part it has served me well. Sure there have been occasions when I wished I stopped and thought about the consequences of the moment a little more while I was living it but on the whole it has served me well.

But what happens when the moment you are living in is not really as great as what you like but you can't do anything about it because it is all part of the plan for the future?

As a regular reader you would have probably heard about my impending #adventureofalifetime. Due to said trip I have returned to regular paid employment for the first time in over eight years.

I have always known that I was blessed to not have to work, until I went back to work though I just never really understood how blessed I was.

While I really enjoy the actual working side of things, at least at the start of the week, there is so much of it that I don't enjoy. Like all the extra organisation that is needed. The intricate planning of childcare arrangements and them being picked up (we only have one car), making sure dinner is organised on the nights I am working, less time to squeeze in a load of washing that should have been done days ago. All the little things that quite honestly I struggled with before I added twenty hours a week out of the house into the mix.

I don't like the rushing here and there, the having to be at another place at a particular time. The dump and run policy I have had to adopt at school because there is just no possible way I feel I could squeeze anything else into my precious time. The fact that sometimes when I drop Zany off at school I know I won't actually see her again until we wake up the next morning.

On top of all of that working makes me tired and cuts into my running time. Neither of which please me greatly.

I keep telling myself that it is all only short term and all for such a very valid reason. The end result of a few hard months will be well and truly worth it.

Deep down I know it to be true.

It's just I don't like living in a moment that involves waiting for the future.

joining in with the IBOT gang over at Essentially Jess

Getting my run back on

Just over two years ago, on the 18th February 2012 to be exact, I began to change my life forever.

Inspired primarily by Trish and Kate I laced up my sneakers and decided to see if could suddenly become a runner.

I say suddenly because for my entire life before that point running was not something I thought I could do. Sure I played team sports as a teen that involved a lot of running but that was different. Short dashes from one end of a field to another chasing a ball hoping to get there before someone else did was not exactly real running. Especially when it left you completely and utterly out of breath and gasping for air.

Somehow though, with time, patience and perseverance I could slowly feel a change occurring within in my inner being. As I worked my way through my beloved interval training program I noticed that I was actually able to run for extended periods of time. In fact after about eight weeks I was actually able to maintain a steady much faster than walking pace for a solid thirty minutes.

Since then my running has fluctuated. There has been times when I would be out pounding the pavement every other day and other times where a month and sometimes more, would pass between runs. Though the longer I went without running the more I would long to do so and eventually I would find a way to get myself back out there.

Me getting myself back out there

Over this period I have managed to propel myself nearly 500 kilometres. In June last year I entered my first fun run. A twelve kilometre city to surf event. Being able to say I completed it feels me with all kinds of pride. As does being able to call myself a runner. Words I honestly never thought would leave my mouth.

On the television the other day I heard an advertisement advising that registrations for this year's City to Surf event were now open. Needless to say I am registered. Last year I had less than a month to prepare myself for the big day. This year I have about double that and I am making the most of it.

Sadly recent months have seen less running than I would have liked. Between working, studying, the weather, being a mum and all kinds of stupid excuses have made squeezing in time for a run easier said than done.

At least that was the case before I registered for the race.

Once I had registered, which involved me parting with forty dollars, I made a promise to myself not to make any excuses not to get out there. The running inspired birthday gifts I received the other day have helped no end in this as well.

The past few weeks have seen me go for a run more than what the last three months have. In so many ways it feels rather awesome to be back out there. However there is one slight problem.

Breathing.

I just can't seem to do it while I run anymore. I am back to gasping for air like a fish out of water. It feels awful and makes running rather difficult to say the least.

Thankfully though the internet is a wealth of information and I have been able to read a few articles on how runners should be breathing. This post was supposed to share some of my new found breathing while running tips but I think we can all agree it has gone of for long enough for now. Make sure you pop back tomorrow because I will share it all then.

For now go and check out some of the other bloggers who have joined in #IBOT

Everything happens for a reason

It is no secret that I am a bit of a fairy believer and comfortably put faith in higher powers taking care of everything. I am constantly looking for messages from the universe, signs from above and all kinds of crazy things to confirm that things are as they are meant to be. Sometimes the faith is easy to find and others I wonder how I could possibly believe such ridiculous notions.

As a regular reader you have probably heard me harp on a bit lately about having some health issues recently. Namely a rather large blood clot in the basilic vein of my left arm. I have been waiting nearly a month to see a specialist so that I can find a way forward and get my body to sort itself out.

Last week saw me melting down and demanding that my doctor give me another referral this time to see a private specialist in the hope that I would be seen sooner. It worked a treat because not only did the private specialist give me an appointment for a week's time but when I got home I found a letter from the hospital saying I finally had an appointment the day before my appointment with the private guy.

I did contemplate only taking the private appointment but then decided that the smart thing to do was to see them both. It was not like I had anything to lose and the thought of waiting an extra didn't set well with me at all.

Yesterday was appointment day at the hospital.

As it turned out the Doctor was the same guy that I had the private appointment with the following day. Which I found rather reassuring. It also turns out that he has a Registrar who doubles up as a GP at a clinic in the city.

Right from the onset of discovering the whole blood clot thing I knew that I would be needing to have regular doctor appointments. While my GP is ok, he is not actually someone I was keen on regularly seeing, despite the attractiveness of his bulk billing clinic. This new Registrar/GP dude though, well, I could quite happily see him daily, despite him not being in a bulk billing clinic.

Yes that's right I now have my very own McDreamy doctor
Image found here

I left the hospital feeling as if everything were as it were supposed to and I was right where I needed to be.

I needed to get that appointment with the private specialist so that when I saw him at the public hospital I had that little bit of extra confidence in him. And I needed to have the appointment at the public hospital so I could find this wonderful new GP who has a lot more knowledge on the whole blood clot thing than what my last GP did.

Crazy as it is I have even rationalised a reason behind the whole clot as well. As a result of the clot I am now in the process of looking after myself in a whole new way and ensuring I am taking the best care of my body possible. Without being too dramatic it has all been a bit of a wake up call to make sure I am making the most of my life.

And the reason behind this post? Well, that is easy, so I can join in the joys of IBOT

What about you? 

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? 

(Even if sometimes the reasons aren't so clear at first)

That was how long ago?

Some times when you least expect it, reality comes and long and well and and truly bites you on the behind. For me one of those times came along today.

As you may recall me mentioning before, come July we are off on the adventure of a life time. We are packing all we can into the back of our car and hitting the open road. Mind you such an experience is not exactly free of charge and money is in short supply.

All of which means it wouldn't hurt for me to see if I could get myself a job of some description. Having been gainfully removed from the official workforce for nearly nine years I am slightly nervous about it all.

The other day while down and the local shopping centre I noticed the video store had a position available poster in the front window. I couldn't help but feel that was for me. Sure it said it required some mornings but my dear mother doesn't have much on these days I am sure she wouldn't mind having Teapot tag along with her while I went off and earned some cold hard cash.

Today I finally managed to get the gumption up to actually sit down and have a look at creating some sort of a current resume. In amongst the last lot of decluttering that I undertook I happened to come across my last resume. It didn't have a date on it however the current address was of one I haven't lived at for nearly nine years.

Despite it's age though, that nearly decade old resume was in fact the one that I used to get my very last job with. The position was as a marketing manager with a real estate company, in case you were wondering. I quite liked it though settling into the whole nine to five routine was rather tricky for me.

Prior to the real estate gig I had run a small motel that had involved living on site for a while. The hours were long and varied and anything but nine to five. Being confined to an office for all those hours was also an adjustment I struggled with. Till then all my jobs so me constantly interact with lots of different people. But I've digressed.

Sitting here typing out a new and reviewed resume in the hope that I may be able to score a job somewhere doing something (I really am not too fussed on either just let me choose the hours that suit me best) I the horrible realisation of being incredibly old.

Ok perhaps incredibly old is rather drastic for the tender age of thirty five-nearly-six but wait till you hear this.

I had to write dates from last century.

My first job, which I wanted to include because it demonstrates I am a long term employee, was from 1992-1998. In a surf shop that no longer exists. The fact I have only had five other jobs was the other reason I thought I could get away with stepping that far back in time. Something which I am now reconsidering.

Done any thing to make you feel old lately?

Has reality slapped you one across the face?

How many jobs should I list on a resume?

In fact what should I put on my resume?

And why isn't there someone out there ready to just give me a job doing what I want?

So many questions for today's IBOT post

Welcome 2014

Yep, that's right 2014 is here as planned and scheduled. 

image from here

What is not here (not surprisingly mind you) is a plan or schedule for me to hold in my hand as I enter the new year slightly unprepared and unsure of how to reach my desired destination.

Come July this year we are supposed to be embarking on the adventure of a life time. We are packing up, hitting the road and exploring this great nation in which we live. All sounds very surreal and exciting really. I skipped through most of 2013 with the belief if I just acted as if we had it all under control then the trip would just manifest itself somehow.

With our departure date now a mere six months away I go into a little flurry of panic wondering if that really will be the case. There is so much we wanted to do before we left. So much we thought we needed to do before we could leave. So much that we just haven't even really tried to make happen because it is just too overwhelming and we don't know how to start.

In order to rent out The Shoebox it probably needs a new kitchen and bathroom. A few running repairs on cupboard doors in the bedrooms and new flooring probably wouldn't go astray either. Oh and then there is the minor detail of what we will live in while we are on the road. Is it really feasible to think  a standard cheap as chips tent from K Mart is adequate housing for twelve months?

It's all about the money though. 

Or rather the lack of.

At this point we have maybe just enough to do the absolute bare essentials to the house or get the absolute bare essentials to travel with.

I need to get a job. One that involves writing from home would be beyond perfect. I would happily take anything that involved a computer and working from home though. That's not too much to ask is it? And that's all I have to do isn't it?

Alas, if only it were all that simple.

Much like last year, and unlike almost every other blogger I have come across, I enter this year without a word or phrase to guide me through. My Happiness Jar managed to only accumulate forty two entries. Which when you divide between the five of us means it didn't last for very long. Since we still have all the post it notes we will try again this year. 

Every one was a fan of the idea, it's just was are so lackadaisical about most things they often tend so just slide on by the wayside. All of which is amplified by my ability to make excuses for absolutely every thing.

However, 

It never is as far as I am concerned because for all my faults and shortcomings that I may internally beat myself up with there is but one thing that I know and hold onto at all times with both my hands. 

And that my friends is,

So much so I didn't even need to create the above images because I did so way back in November 2012 for this post. I am now trying not to obsess over the fact how much in life has not changed since then, for of course there is so much that has. 

Right now as I type there is no washing on the couch. There are no overflowing baskets of washing waiting to be washed, folded or put away. There is one load sitting scrunched up in the dryer waiting for me to iron and put away and there is a folded basket that also needs to just be placed in the appropriate cupboards. 

There are also cupboards that are currently holding some ironed garments and just between you and me it is a kind of nice feeling. And yes I can't believe I really just said that. Since I am the proud wonder of a rather cool iron I feel obliged to take it for a spin every now and then.

It's all about perspective. Which if I was going to choose a word for 2014 I think that is the one that I would go with. But by now that is a whole other post.

Thankful for all the machines

Earlier in the week when I was busily trawling the net as opposed to tackling Mount Washmore or the leaning tower of dishes I happened upon a post by Zoey about her creative process. It got me wondering what is my creative process? 

In fact I wondered if I even have a creative process?

I am pretty sure I don't really. I just sit down in front of my beautiful big iMac screen and hope for the  words to flow faster than a river down a mountain. Some times they do, some times they don't. 

There are however certain things that need to be done before I can write. Surprisingly enough most of those things involve the completion of household tasks. At least some of them anyway. Sure there are days where I come here and there is washing all over the place and dirty dishes desperately waiting for a wash, not to mention the floors and their dire need for sweep, but rarely on those days do I manage to write something outstanding. Mainly because I spend half the time worrying about all the other things I am not doing rather than writing.

However on the days where I push myself to get the jobs done before I sit down to write, the writing seems to come so much easier. I am thankful that today is one of those days. Of course that is why this post is more than slightly delayed but you can't always win them all. 

image with thanks from here

As I was scurrying about the kitchen this morning, moving clean dishes from the dishwasher to the cupboard and then the dirty dishes from all over the place to the dishwasher I realised just how thankful I was for the blasted machine. 

I say blasted because this time last year when Mr A was pleading with me to allow one into the house, I was adamantly against it. Always had been. Such a good case was put forward by both the children and Mr A I was eventually worn down though and gave in. I may also have been stuck for a Christmas present for my beloved.

Since having it though I have slightly fallen in love with the lovely shiny machine that saves me from submersing my delicate hands in dishwater. I am not sure what it is but there is something much more appealing about stacking a dishwasher than you know actually doing the dishes.

Anyway so there I was this morning swooning about how much I loved this machine that washed my dishes for me when I realised there are actually quite a few machines I am thankful to be the proud owner of. Like the washing machine. Seriously not everyone has a working washing machine. I am so thankful that I do. 

And well, don't even get me started on how wonderful the dryer is. Especially on rainy days that last for a week. But then there is also the coffee machine, the vacuum cleaner, the air conditioner, the television, the fridge, deep freezer and, well you get my drift by now I am sure. There are so many machines that in someway enhance my life. All of which I really am incredibly thankful to be the owner of.

On the days when getting the jobs out the way with happy heart is easier said than done I think of all the machines that are there to help me. I think of all the women before me (and some even at this time) that don't have the machines that I do and suddenly it all seems just a little bit easier than before.

Other random thanks this weeks goes to 

• all seven, yes that is right, seven lovelies who joined in last week. That really just made me all sorts of special
  
• the school holidays arriving and giving us all lots of down time
  
• Lovely having a safe plane trip
  
• the other two coping much better than expected with Lovely's departure and absence
  
• getting to hang with my brother for an hour or two in between flights as he was passing through.
  
• the airport parking not costing an absolute fortune
  
• receiving our share of Grandma's estate

Now you. What are you thankful for this week? Share in the comments below or link up your own post.

Nothing like really living it up

Here I am again, still completely and utterly alone and unattended. 

image thanks to woodsy

And loving every single moment!

Sure there might have been a nano second or two where I thought perhaps I should have felt even just a tiny bit guilty for either a) not bring the apparently sick yet miraculously healed child home or b) keeping Mr A company at his work do, but rest assured it passed pretty quickly once I remembered just how darn amazing it felt to be on my lonesome.

Naturally the writer in me says quick full steam ahead to writers land, get out all those jumbled ideas that rattle around on a daily basis just waiting for the moment to be shared. Which of course is why I am here right now. Not surprisingly said jumbled ideas and thoughts seem to have disappeared, without a hint of a trace of reappearing. Isn't that always the way

Sigh.

In fact sometimes I wonder why I even bother trying to hold on to the hope that one day, just maybe I could be considered as a real writer. But then I tell myself a life without a dream to chase is no life at all. Aside I have a blog that makes me a writer doesn't it? (insert giggles as all the real writers in the world scream at me that blogging is not writing while all the other wanna be writers cheer me on)

The magic of the silence has just been broken. Mr A, decided to drag his sorry self down stairs and ruin my final moments of solace. Asking me to pack away all my craft supplies that are spread over the couch was perhaps not his best idea either. I have little to no sympathy for those with a hangover and fail to see how his self induced headache takes priority over my desire to create at some point today.

The return to the no me time has already begun. I am sure it is not too long till the children need to be collected and the craziness and noise completely return. 

Sigh, sigh and double sigh. Though really I guess that last one should be a triple sigh really shouldn't it?

But I should not complain because blessed is what I am. 

Instead I will enjoy the final mouthfuls of my now cold but still awesome coffee. As empty as it may now be, the inside of me is filled with a wonderful renewed energy, readying me not just for today but the entire week ahead.

Completely and utterly unattended

The silence is almost deafening. In fact it is so silent there is a ringing in my ears. I struggle to remember the last such a stillness descended upon the house. 

image from esheep

Of course now that I stop to think how quiet it all is I find my ears barraged with a range of sounds. From cars passing in the distance, to the buzzing of the electrical appliances, not to mention the fish tank aerator, squawking birds flying past and the constant tapping of my fingers upon the keyboard.

Some how the universe managed to swing it that I found myself at home. All alone. Completely and utterly unattended. Which believe you me is completely and utterly amazing. Perhaps even beyond that.

Mr Awesome has his work Christmas party tonight. Which meant that the girls were shipped off to my mum's as I was expected invited to attend said party. All very good and well until when dropping the children off at Nan's the littlest one says my ear hurts mum. And then promptly bursts into tears.

The fact that she willingly took the panadol offered to her was quite possibly a sign of just how much pain she was in. Mother of the year here though decided to ignore it because, well, a night out is a night out, even if it is with a bunch of people I have little to no ability to communicate with. Plus I may or may not have planned to pike early on the night anyway to enjoy some quiet time at home.

Being all organised and not rushing things, I was dropping the children off with an hour or two to spare before the party started. This meant of course by the time the party was about to start I felt obliged to check in and see how it was all going.

Stupid me.

Of course it was going terribly. 

Teapot was still moaning about her ear, while Lovely was still making attempts to escape. It was with great reluctance that I even got her there in the first place. She is currently without access to her iDevice, however felt it was only *fair* she got to take it to the sleepover. Naturally her version of fair and mine are vastly different. The device was left at home and she promised to cry blue murder about it until the situation was rectified.

Poor Lovely is in the process of learning the world does not actually spin on an axis that revolves purely around her. Unfortunately for her, and all involved, she appears instant on doing this the hard way and fighting me every inch of the way.

Sigh.

Anyways being the Mother of the Year that I am, I went on partying. Actually the party was at a bowling alley so I stuck around and had a game. I did not however enjoy an alcoholic bereave. Which was really the only real attraction of going. Instead, deciding to be just a little bit responsible and stay with soft drinks. Once I had remembered how incredibly crap I am at bowling though I decided that maybe it was best if I went and saw to the children. 

By now Teapot had been to sleep for a bit, woken up and was still going on about her sore ear. Lovely had also come to terms with the fact that sometimes I do actually get to pull rank on her and not give in. Aside from all of that the 35 week pregnant lady and the recently engaged chick were well and truly doing my head in with their constant chatter about their impending life changes. Ones that I have already been through and without being rude am not really interested in hearing about from other people I see but once a year. A three year old with a sore ear and her hormonal twelve year old sister suddenly appeared very appealing. (No I don't understand why I don't have many friends do you?)

So I get to my mother's house only to discover that Teapot's ear has had a miraculous recovery. Apparently a bath can fix anything. Oh to be three. Thanks to the panadol for finally kicking in perhaps?

After an hour of hanging with them Teapot informed that she did not want to come home with me. Lovely of course was using every inch of self restraint that she could muster not to scream out how much she would like to come home with me. Bless her. I love it when she shines out rays of hope like that.

I loved her even more when she was so accepting of me returning to the party. There is nothing more wonderful than seeing a child learn a lesson. Even if it will only be temporary before she decides to see how far she can push me once more. The never-ending dance of teenage power struggle.

Of course I had no intention of returning to the party. I am not a very good sober bob. Even there is a drink to be had then I would most certainly like to having it. How else can one tolerate the idiocy of a drunk if one is not drunk also? Plus, the temptation of a silent home is very hard to resist.

So here I sit. Alone and unattended. Basking in the glow of my screen and the silence of my ears. Cautiously waiting for the message to say it has once again all come undone. For now though as I inhale the beauty of solitude I will just enjoy me. Doing things that I like to do, that only benefit me. Like trawling round the internet and catching up on some blog reading and writing.

Keep Calm and Carry on Ironing

the irony of the crinkles in the poster
has me giggling like you wouldn't believe!

Or just chill with an awesome bunch of ladies and some great food and drink as the case may have been.

Thanks to Philips I gathered some of my buddies and held a bit of a British themed ironing party on the weekend.

Firstly let me just say that I feel incredibly privileged to be able to even say I had some buddies to gather. The fact that they actually turned up is even more of a blessing. Now I know generally speaking I don't tend to worry too much about things but when it comes to throwing a party and having peeps turn up I tend to worry like there is no tomorrow.

Thankfully though this was an occasion where I had just the right amount of guests. Given that it was all being held in the shoebox it was lucky the guest list was not too long. Mind you I may have got a tad carried away with the food preparation and prepared enough for a small army.

Apologies in advance for the lack of light in these photos, hint hint if there is a camera company out there, I need a new one...

Just some of the fan fare.
Under the white thing are some scones my mum made. Yes they were awesome

Choc Orange Swirl cupcakes with cute little toppers.
Complete with some chocolate frosting carefully piped on by Lovely

A close up of some of the British food I was sent.
I had a few British guests who assured me authenticity of it all.

These were beyond devine.
Cream cheese, sour cream, smoked salmon and a shallots,all whipped together.
I say whipped because I used my electric egg beater. 

In keeping with the British feel, despite there being watermelon on the table, which is clearly not British just incredibly refreshing, there was also Pimms. Oh and tea, but nobody drank that because, well there was Pimms. Which according to my brief research is the beverage of choice at Wimbledon. Followed closely by champagne (which I also had on hand if you were wondering).

Once everyone had arrived and settled we got straight into the game playing. Because what is a party without games?

The games all revolved around the rather magnificent PerfectCare Aqua Pressurised Steam Generator.

Honestly this iron is the iron of all irons. Even without being a dedicated ironer (and by that I mean someone who may have difficulty remembering where the iron can be found) I can recognise that this little baby is all kinds of awesome and then some.

In fact the look on Suzy's face is testament to just how awesome this little baby is.

Suzy is a regular ironer on account of her husband having an important job and needing clothes that are wrinkle free. Sadly though until the weekend she was oblivious to the fact that not all irons are created equal. A fact she quickly discovered after a few quick swipes of the ironing board with PerfectCare Aqua.

Turns out that all Suzy's years of ironing practise paid off because that lady can get a shirt wrinkle free quicker than you can say Bob's your uncle, not that I ever say that because Bob was my dad and therefore could never be my uncle regardless of how fast you said it but that is probably a story for another day. Anyway Philips had kindly given me an extra iron to pass on to one lucky guest and Suzy's ironing speed and ability made her that lucky guest.

Suz left with one of the biggest smiles and making jokes about the steamy night she was in for as she got to know her new love a little better. Suzy was not the only guest in love with all things iron related and nor was she the only one that left grinning from ear to ear.

Our IBOT hostess with the mostess, Essentially Jess who is a self proclaimed ironing nerd got the pleasure of running away with the rather impressive ironing board

You can check out more photos of the day via Instagram and the hashtag #rhiannasarvotea and if you haven't already check out the YouTube clip of my original review of the iron

For those that like fine print, I was gifted a PerfectCare Aqua for my original review. 
I was also given heaps of cool stuff (too much to mention) to host an iron party. 
All thoughts and words are totally my own