Moving...

I know that there aren't many of you but just to let you know, Spectacularly Ordinary is moving to Country Chic to blog. Find me at aussiecountrychic@blogspot.com.
See you there!

Content in the Chaos

When everything turns upside down...

From out of nowhere comes the call...your landlord has decided to sell. No more, no less. Just an emotional roller coaster for the next 4 months.Why?
Why does the next step of our adventure scare me so incredibly?
Why can't my emotions focus on the fact that God has never let us down before instead of fluctuating between the high hopes of my unaffordable dream house and the reality of our finances and loan options.
I know that I am to be content... why is that such a hard ask? To rest in the facts of God's goodness, grace and provision of what I need (note: not want). Contentedness - the art of using what I have for God's glory, not my own selfish pleasure. The feeling that just because someone else has it does not mean that I deserve it. The true joy in anothers gain and true sorrow for their loss, instead of the comparison game, the "it's not fair"  mentality and the search for joy in circumstance and stuff.
The guilt of if I had... or if I hadn't... if I was more... or less.
In fact the problem is that it's all about me...the self indulgent, self centered, self pleasing me who fails to grasp the blatantly obvious.
It's about Him, His plans, His loving provision of either gain or loss, His ultimate control in every circumstances and the fully grasping of this...
                                                                       
                                                                                     even when everything turns upside down.

Organised Housewife Challenge

Well, it's on! I've signed up for the challenge. Why? Because there is always room for improvement and accountability is what I need. Pre Challenge #1 is done and ready for the next...

Photo Day

I spent the second Tuesday of the school holidays on a photographic expedition. Yes an entire day spent taking photos. My co-conspirator and I drove to the Rose garden at Tanunda and spent a crisp autumn morning snapping to our hearts content. A picnic lunch in the park and a coffee and dessert from the bakery rounded off a memorable day of flowers, friends, conversation and clic!

Two things that struck me most ...

1. No one was hurrying us on or rushing off to the next spot...

2. Bees don't sit still...

                                        PS. Can you see the feet?

January

So here I am - January 31! The first, whole month of the Year of Our Lord 2012 has come and ever so quickly, gone.

I love January. It holds promise and plans, renewal and for me a revisiting. A getting ready for the year ahead after the beauty of Christmas; and the manic rush it sometimes accumulates.

I hate January. It holds many hurtful anniversaries, the passing of no less than 4 dear friends and family members. As I plan the future I am well aware that I have no control over the events of this life; or the next. As I think of how unpredictable this life is I am faced with the truth that in some cases each anniversary means another year alone for someone I love.

I love January. We celebrate our wedding Anniversary (OK so my poor typing originally spelled that "weeding") This year it was a bit that way. A weeding out of some marriage destroying habits that had crept into our garden. Interesting how my Bible readings for the month of January were in Song of Solomon and most of January my darling has been working away. A good time to focus on some gardening of the heart.

Our celebrations include my Parent's Anniversary, my Mother's birthday and Australia Day.
Summer holidays have been extra hot, strangely disjointed and over too soon. Beaches, friends, fireworks, an amazing iced chocolate!

The year ahead holds much in store but so much of it is hidden. My comfort is that it is hidden in His hands.

The regular events of my week have all too soon come in to play and each adventure is begining.
Our MOPS group is one week away so planning is all go. I can't wait to see who will be a part of this years group and how God willl work in this part of their lives.
Country Chic's foray into the world of craft markets has started and I look forward to seeing if this is a place that God has for me.

.The adventure of a "Whole Foods" online course is making me tingle with anticipation; food, cooking and a deepening friendship. Sharing with the other participants from around the globe at http://beautythatmoves.typepad.com/ sounds like too much fun.

The challenge of completing an endurance ride this year on my sweet Megs is something from my "bucket list".

The dream of visiting family in America is now more of a tentative plan, than a dream and that in itself is a miracle.

The unfolding of Number 1 son's future is slowly taking shape as I face the next stage of my mothering journey.

And in between the many tasks and adventures I have begun the challenge of being grateful. No small ask for a habitual "glass half empty" kinda girl. http://www.aholyexperience.com/ Ann Voskamp's 1000 Gifts is inspirational and I challenge you to check it out

2012...

Reflection... As I look back on 2011 with a sense of completion, I am once again amazed at the speed at which a year can pass.The blurr of experiences and emotions that are contained in a day, a month, a year! The mundane and routine of home chores and regular activities that string together like bunting, interrupted by joys and tradgedies of the unexpected, hoped for, even dreaded.
This year I have hoped, prayed, regretted, given up; I have smiled, belly laughed, been wracked with sobs that shake my foundations; I have been asked to toughen up, let go, swallow my pride; I have been uncertain, afraid, angry and bewildered and yet...in it all... a sense, a certainty, an intimate "knowing", that all, all, ALL! is held in God's mighty hands.
That which I don't understand, that I fear, even that which I think I have under control... it is His!
What comfort, what peace is found in Him, in trusting His purposes, in being loved by God.
2012... So I face this coming year in the maturity of knowing it will hold much of the same. Undoubtably these familiar lessons will come again, clothed in new experiences. I will be again asked to grow and change and love and forgive. I will suffer hurt and take deep breaths of joy. This year has the promise of learning to let go, the discipline of exchanging monotony for deeper roots, the aquiring of new skills and new relationships, the risks of new experiences.

a new camera in the same house

the boys and their volleyball

 Megs & Sock,

R's Formal

 J's great year at school

 Year 12 results

 Christmas... the only time of year my toes are red!

 Christmas lights,

Chai and my ball of string...

Quirky craft,

Olive picking,

a "normal" week,

1. One day in and loving 2012!

Hmmm.

Ok...it just hit me! ... if you want something to work or start.. just double click on the little thingy (I know it has some nerdy name, but you know what I'm talking about.) Today I noticed that mine is the shape of a little hand with the index finger pointing up!! Revolutionary...NO, remindingly SO!! If things aren't working out look UP! Change your perspective! I've got to remember to LOOK UP, to rest in the fact that God is the one in control...move my life-mouse to His plan, double click on that and wait for Him to take me to the next screen.
That is all.

A New Fairy Tale

Ella Sweet and Strong
Or the thinking women’s version of the Cinderella story

Once upon a time there lived a sweet girl. Her mother and father were still very much in love. Her father was an important man, a noble man a friend of the king. Her mother beautiful and wise and both of them loved Ella very much. They lived happily together as a family should.
As often happens in a fairy tale, tragedy struck. Ella’s mother became ill and no matter what the doctors tried, it failed. A tearful goodbye was held as Ella’s mother passed to heaven. Her father burdened by his tragedy was never again as happy as those first years but he still loved Ella as his pride and joy. He told her often “You are my precious child and I will always be there for you.”
By Ella’s 7th birthday her father had married again. His new wife seemed a reasonable woman and it was a perfectly adequate arrangement. To Ella’s family was added a step mother and two older stepsisters. While her father loved his new wife and daughters, it seemed obvious; to them anyway, that he loved Ella more than they. He provided for their needs and loved them as a father should but they couldn’t stand it when they heard him tell Ella that she was his precious child and that he would always be there for her.
On Ella’s 12th birthday the unthinkable happened. Her father never returned from one of his many journeys on the kings business. Poor Ella! Her life was forever changed. Her step mother, hurt from her own loss began to take out her hurt on Ella. Instead of enjoying the same privileges as her own daughters Ella was treated as a servant. She was made to fetch and carry for her sisters who by this time had reached that age where they demanded everything and cared for nothing. Ella scrubbed the floors of HER family home, she cooked to feed those that treated her badly, she set the fires to keep them warm while she was shut away in her cold damp room with only their leftovers to fill her stomach.
About here, we as women, wait for the tide to turn, for the handsome prince on his white horse to rescue us, I mean her, to punish the wrongdoers, to make her beautiful, and take her away from all this.
Well, this Ella was a strong and determined young woman. She knew very well who she was. She was Ella, daughter of her wise and beautiful mother and her father, a nobleman, a friend of the king. She reminded herself often of her father’s words to her, that she was precious and that he would always be there for her.
She reminded herself of it when she felt cold, or hungry and especially when those who were supposed to love her, treated her cruelly instead. Though she often did the work of a servant girl, she carried herself as a nobleman’s daughter. Her father’s words repeating in her mind.
In her room she spent her time making dainty handkerchiefs from the leftover materials of her stepsisters many new dresses. When she went to market to buy the food for her stepmother she offered to collect things for her neighbours and with the coins she earned, ever so slowly, she saved and saved until she had enough.
Enough to hire a man, a very wise man, who had known her father and was well versed in law and things that Ella had never had the opportunity to learn. This man spent weeks and months searching and enquiring into her father’s matters. Ella worked on, despite her hardships, to ensure that she had enough to pay this man until his job was done.
Finally the man came to her with news, good news, news that would change her life! Was her father alive? Did this man find Ella so beautiful that he had decided to marry her and take her away from all this? Was she really some princess in disguise? No, No and a hundred times No.
Ella was all that she had been all her life. She was sweet and strong and sure of her father’s words. She knew she was precious and she knew that somehow even in the worst of circumstances he would always be there for her. The news was just some legal paperwork, hidden away in her father’s old workroom. The papers gave Ella the ownership of her family home. The same home that she lived in now as a servant she owned as the mistress of the house. A smile crossed her face that perhaps had not been seen for a very long time. Her father was there for her, perhaps not in person but his words on this paper proved that he was and always had been, there for her.
And her stepmother and sisters, did she throw them out into the street. Now remember this is Ella, sweet and strong, who knows her father’s words and carries herself as a noblewomen’s daughter.
No, although one of the sisters moved out to marry, let us say an “interesting gentleman”, and mother remarried and lives in the next town, they still visit Ella at Christmas. Her other stepsister has changed completely and now helps Ella run the family home.
Now Ella sews beautiful dresses for all those fashionable ladies, using the skills she learned in her cold, damp room. She sets the fires in her home to warm herself and those she invites in, because they have no place to go. She cooks and even scrubs the floors in her home just because she knows she does a great job.
Did she marry and have sweet children and live happily ever after, I do not know. But of this I am sure, she has always been and will always be, Ella, sweet and strong, safe in her father’s words, “You are precious and I will always be with you.”


The End

Me

OK it's confession time. I have finally nailed down one of my biggest issues. Yes, I have issues and yes, this one is big. I have, after much contemplation, realized that I have great trouble being me. There is somewhere deep in this psyche of mine an intense desire to be someone else. No hero worship, no one person I aspire to be.
No, just a nagging sense of wanting what others have. Perhaps it is a form of covetousness, but it is not the things themselves that I wish for. I don't need a new pair of shoes and having a manicure is highly impractical for my everyday life. Yet when I see or hear of someone with some thing, I have this gnawing sense that I need it too.
You see it is the things that define who a person is, that sway me; she is the girl who always wears flowers in her hair, or the mum who always bakes for her family and so I covet the flowers, the recipes, the definition that comes from these things. In my quiet moments, my thoughts billow and threaten to engulf me; who am I?, what is it that I love?, how am I defined?
These are thoughts that I wrestle with each time I 'sit awhile', each time I meet with friends, shop,or read. So why are they there? Is it a deep seated sense of poverty rooted in a childhood of very little possessions but no lack of any necessities? Is it an insecurity in my spirit, not fully assured of my place before God? Is it double mindedness as the things that are attractive to me are often trivial, shiny, so very transient in their nature? Is it purely self indulgence or simply an inner wanting to be appreciated by everyone, or is that one and the same?
Sometimes I crave for it all to be stripped away. All that is familiar, all that is 'normal and routine' in this life He has given me. For it to be stripped back until all that is left is the me without pretence.
And what I wish to be...so far removed from what I see myself. A deep desire to be strong, resilient, focused, unique, Godly...and what I am, often weak,overwhelmed, apathetic, just like everyone else and worst of all 'nice', not Godly but nice.
Ah to throw of the shackles of 'nicety' and be brazenly Godly! To know with full assurance, not only that He loves me and accepts me though His Son, but to know what to say, to think, to choose, to do! For every minute, every decision, every choice! To not be shackled by 'shoulds' or 'ifs' but resting, rejoicing in certainties. To "know who is me?" or to know "who is I AM!"

Of France and Greece and Ducks and Geese...

You know those days that just seemed to happen, the ones that start out with a small amount of planning and end up so much more than what had been planned?
Today was one of those days...
Earlier in the year H and I had decided to take J back to Goolwa to enjoy some of the things we had loved there. Little shops, cafes and the beach, a place that she adores. As many of our plans are wont to end, time flew by and they were replaced with the 'must dos' of life. Last week tho' saw the perfect opportunity to revisit our idea and off we went.
J was given minimal information about our plans, mostly because we had minimal plans. An early start saw us head to the Willunga Farmer's Market via Nairne (dropping off a grand daughter.) With 'Karen' our Aussie GPS voice leading the way we were 'up the creek' in no time, literally. Paris Creek that is. A rather large mud rut stood in our way and the ever cautious H handed over the '4WDing' to me. The little white car did us proud and soon we hit the market.

Complete with the obligatory 'hippies and yuppies with puppies' we wandered the gourmet stalls. Chai tea, Chai honey, mmmm cheese, some tomatoes, mushrooms, bread and dukkah later, we began the third leg of our journey. Conversation flitted from scenery to life and all its complexities, as it does in a car of sistachicks.
Goolwa finally loomed on the horizon and we found ourselves perusing the art galleries and gift shops. Very cultured, very chic, then after much giggling and gasping over price tags we realized that the thunder in the distance was actually our rumbling tummies and headed off to find some lunch.
A short time later we could be found enjoying coffee and fish'n'chips at The Flying Fish Cafe at Pt Elliot. Complete with an awesome view of the crashing waves of Horshoe Bay. Perfect!
Now for the trip home... Step 1. Set the GPS to Francine the French direction giver, Step 2. Try to translate her French to our English. Step 3. Stop abruptly as we were blown away by the most gorgeous little house that came into view!
It turns out that 'Maison Blue' is a B&B and a High Tea and cupcake venue!
So our next trip is planned.


Oh and the title, Paris Creek, Feta Cheese, Tall, Duck & Handsome and us silly geese...of course.

PS. What is the correct French translation of, "sucking on white rice"?

Empty Boxes

Well, 33 days after moving into our 'next adventure' I have come to the end of the final box! Our family's entire possessions have been transferred from home A to home B.
The last of the boxes contained the photos that used to hang or sit around our previous house. To me they are a big part of making our house a home.
Now the dilemma is, where do they go...
... part of me is wanting to place them exactly where they were before. Not easy to accomplish in a rental home where I no longer have the privelege of whacking in picture hooks to my hearts' content (I was afraid to count how many hooks are left in the walls of home A:)
... the more creative part of me wants to sort through, change and move almost all of them. A cathartic clean through has been a big part of this move and it seems to have taken on a life of its own. I am reminded by this move that I have MUCH, yet as I throw or give things away, I am constantly accumulating more.
In this last month, my mixmaster, kettle and food processor have all breathed their last. My vaccuum cleaner and sewing machine have both been on life support (read 'cash investment required') These dramas, along with the inevitable bits and pieces that are needed in a new place, have seen me more than a little frustrated with the 'stuff' of this world.
How I yearn for a heaven, a place with no decay - nothing breaks or dies, needs replacing or only half works. A rest from work that frustrates and constantly needs doing over. A place where God will be eternally glorified as I return to Him the gifts He has given me...
Beside this, I am feeling thankful for this gift. "Montgomery Acres" (for now) is a blessing and I am enjoying it and seeking to share it. Come on over, anytime. Enjoy the trees and birds, the wood fire and eventually my horse and chickens will welcome you too...

Eye of the Storm

These last few weeks, and a few more to come I suspect, have been a whirlwind. I feel decidedly blown about. We are selling up and moving out. So my days have been spent cleaning this house, looking for a new one, trying to sort the mountain of materialness that has accumulated in the last 5 years and fitting in the day to day of ordinary life. Personal circumstances of those around me and general busyness has left me tired and soul sad at times but I have found a haven. I love how in the busyness I can find my God. He does not hide from me when I am weary or frustrated. I can speak to him whether I'm packing boxes, scrubbing walls or fighting the tears.
I love the imagery of the twister, it seems to fit how I feel. Yet in the midst of the movement, there is a quiet place of peace and rest. A center where I crawl up into the lap of the Creator and take time to see things from His perspective, to tune in to His heartbeat for myself and those around me.
Be still and know that I am God....

CWCI

Friday evening found us heading of to Victor Harbour for the Christian Women Communicating Internationally Conference. We had packed our things...most of them, made our plans...slightly sketchy tho' they were and yes there was going to be a lot of communicating going on between us Christian women!

To sum up my weekend...

...I am constantly amazed by God's generosity toward me in His provision of my friends! Those like me, those not so similar, all who challenge, encourage and build me up.

...I adore the vistas that God gifts us with. This time it was wide seas and wider skies, encircling clouds and skipping seals. Grey tones on grey then blue skies and piercing sunlight. Praise God for eyes to appreciate His handiwork.

...Speakers with passion and personal accounts that draw us back to His grace. Grace upon grace and even more grace. Amazing Grace, Glorious Grace.

...They say actions speak louder than words. I watched one of the key note speakers as she sat on the platform and waited to speak. We were all singing and one of the music leaders was obviously touched by the song. She began to weep and stepped back to a corner to compose herself. I watched as Joan crossed the stage to comfort her and thought how priveleged I was to witness a speaker whose heart was for others not on her own promotion.

...Long night conversations on life, past & present, on God's thoughts and heart. Laughter and tears.

...Markets, food, coffee, clothes, craft and jewellery. I guess that's why missing my all boy family is more difficult in these times 'cos I know they would be just itching to be somewhere else...except for the food times!

...Chance (divinely orchestrated) meetings with old friends.

...I thank God for my family who despite my need to be needed, are awesome enough to thrive while I am away and love me when I am not.

No, I didn't make it to every session but if the weekend is about communicating with Christian women, that was surely accomplished.

Green Tomato Pickle Progress

I now have 4 jars of very tasty Green Tomato Pickle. You can find the simple recipe at www.abc.net.au/tasmania/recipes , look for Chef Sally Wise Green Tomato Pickle. It's a very easy recipe and there is something special about using your own produce. If you don't grow your own, they are available at some of the grower's markets.
I am slowly saying farewell to my backyard garden. Last week saw the disappearance of my two hens, Peri & Satay. They are now staying with a friend's chickens, enjoying a much larger enclosure and undoubtedly the attentions of a few roosters who also reside there. We have begun moving the garden beds to allow the lawn to grow back in preparation for selling & moving. All that is left of the vege patch is a rather large, unidentified melon vine of some sort that is gradually taking over. It grew from seed in my compost heap and being curious, I have left it to see what might eventually produce.
It makes me think of those verses in Matthew 12:33 Make the tree good and its fruit good or else make the tree bad and its fruit bad; for a tree is known by its fruit. I am yet to see if this vine's fruit is good... watermelon? or bad... paddy melon? but it cannot produce anything other than what it has contained in it. v35 A good man out of the treasure of his heart brings forth good things,and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things. May giving glory to God be the treasure of my heart and from that may good things grow.

Green Tomato Pickle

So much for my goal of blogging on a weekly basis. Once again my monumental plans are wallowing in the dark recesses of the 'guilt' file in the back of my mind. I recently watched 'Julie and Julia' and was somewhat amazed that anyone could be that consistent about two things for so long. Not me. If there is anything consistent about me it is my inconsistency!
Praise God that He is always consistent and consistently perfect!
So I will not bore you with my failure to blog about our wedding anniversary, a romantic, surprise getaway... my eldest son's coming of age, 16 years old and now with a car and a boat license... baking the BEST cake ever for Ryan's birthday... attending a horse riding clinic where I was labelled a pacifist, (he has never seen me get upset in the privacy of my own home)... meeting up with an old school friend...
Life goes on whether you blog about it or not. What is most important is that you live it!

Speaking of Green Tomato Pickles, I am halfway through the process of making some with tomatoes from my neglected home garden (more monumental plans). I'll let you know how it turns out... maybe...

Adelaide to Sydney - Part II

Day 4 - As we travelled the silver glisten on the roadside had us intrigued until we realized that if each web was home to one spider....!! We quickly took our photos and then meandered out toward the NSW coast stopping at Bega (I love cheese!). We stopped in a small inland town called Mogo where I could happily have spent far more cash than we had on alpaca rugs and the like. After a text to our NSW expat friends we changed course to explore

Kangaroo Valley. A gorgeous spot where Phil and Jack swam under the oldest bridge in NSW. Then finally we drove into Sydney itself. As we arrived we saw small odd looking birds darting between the city buildings and trees. After closer inspection we realized they were bats. As we arrived at our destination we were warmly welcomed into Sam's apartment and slept soundly that night.

Day 5 - We woke with the intention of walking the Harbour Bridge. After a short walk to the train station and a train trip we arrived and walked across the famous icon. Folks were already taking up positions on the grassed areas, ready for the fireworks that evening. We walked through the Rocks and to Circular Quay which was such a hustle and bustle of preparations for that night. Our hungry tummies were searching for the fabled Guylian chocolate cafe. Once seated at this oasis of delights we chose a white chocolate cheesecake, a chocolate hazelnut gateau, iced chocolate and a latte. $43 later and yes it was worth it, in fact I was so bewildered by the gastronomic masterpieces before me, I forgot to photograph them. They were wonderful to behold and amazing to taste. We are looking forward to returning to Sydney for this and a visit to Lindt cafe.... but I digress. Then back to the apartment to organize supplies and meet up with the rest of the family...

Day 5 - Part II Armed with snacks of many varieties we once again boarded the train and headed for 'our spot' thanks to Sam's work contacts we were able to view the New Years Eve visual spectacular from the 17th floor of the Samsung building. Our vantage point overlooked Luna Park, the Bridge, Circular Quay and Darling Harbour, an amazing view. The refreshments kept us and the children amused as we waited for the first instalment of sky tinsel at 9.30. The 'kid's' fireworks were appreciated with much ooohing and aahing. A short walk to the deli for an icecream proved an interesting experience of people watching and a 'near death' experience for my brother as he exited the building doors...no they are not like elevator doors, they will crush you if you stand there too long. It was a long wait til 12.00. Two small children didn't make it and some of us oldies were fading but it was worth the wait. The bridge and at least 4 other displays were visible and the lights of the boats and harbour set a magical atmosphere. A once in a lifetime privilege...

Day 5 - Part III After a tidy up and rearrangement of the office we headed for the station. Two children still sleeping and two very tired plus two teenagers and five adults headed into the tunnel at the first station. Nose to nose, hand in hand with the multitude flowing in the general direction... until the noise and movement of the crowd felt a little unsafe. We turned tail and decided to walk to the next station... and the next where we waited for ages to get onto the platform. Three trains came and went, looking decidedly full as they arrived and much fuller as they left. Not wishing to play sardines, we were despairing of making it home at all when the inbound train was reversed to an outbound direction. It was empty as we boarded but rapidly filled. We spent time preparing to alight as navigating our way to the doors involved traipsing over prams and the like. We finally made it home at 2.30am and slept soundly.

Day 6 - We woke early...why?!... packed up, said our goodbyes and headed home. The short way! Sydney to Junee with barely a break. An overnight stay in a cabin...heavenly!

Day 7 - A straight through drive to Adelaide and home. This was the first time driving into familiar surrounds that I longed to still be on holiday rather than the familiar homesick feeling that I usually have...

Adelaide to Sydney - Part I

Shortly before Christmas my husband and sil hatched a plan to visit Sydney for the NYE fireworks. This being their last NYE in Australia before heading off to Texas for 4 years, combined with the fact that her sister lives in Sydney laid the foundation for this somewhat crazy venture.Christmas was over and Boxing day was spent packing and organizing ready to leave early Sunday am. Organizing included the usual but also the extra bonus of readying our new 'old' car, the Patrol (commonly referred to as 'the beast'). Sorting out the stereo 'cos we can't drive all that way in silence and tinting the windows..... ourselves. This job will never be attempted again! it was worse than covering school books with contact. Note - this job began the day before Christmas, in between preparing the vegetables and everything else that needed to be done:) An awesome oppurtunity for patience and service. Praise God His grace is available even the day before Christmas! We packed our tents and sleeping bags as this was to be an 'on the cheap' holiday and next morning the adventure began.

As we sat in the driveway my husband's comment went something like

"So, which way do you want to go, the long way or the short way?"

NYE was 5 days away so we decided on the 'long way'...

Day 1 - Adelaide to Port Campbell... we stopped in Mt Gambier where I managed to take about 14 photos of the sinkholes before realizing I had no film in the camera (yes it is an old one!). Showed the boys the Blue Lake and they wanted to swim in it:) Headed along the coast and then arrived in Port Campbell to find that this little seaside village is very popular and very full. We found ourselved above the local oval on a makeshift overflow camping ground with a few others and set up tent to the bizarre sounds of some unseen bird. After a shower at the Rec Centre we were off again...

Day 2 - Port Campbell to Leongatha... In and out of the car to see the sights of the Great Ocean Road. Wow, have they changed since we were there 20 years ago. London Bridge is no more and so many place that we just walked up to last time, were fenced and have great tourist centres surrounding them. More photos (with the film in!) The boys continued with their DVD watching, SG1 series...I don't know. Another snap decision and we were aboard the ferry from Queenscliff to Sorrento. We got a little lost on the Mornington Peninsular and more than a little waylaid in the coastal traffic down there but eventually wound our way through to a little spot called Leongatha. Here we managed to find another cheap overnight tent site...thankfully with showers of a higher quality...and set up camp again. That evening we went to see 'Avatar' which we thought was intruiging but a little too close to Pocohontas story line for me. But I was tired...

Day 3 - More driving but this time we detoured inland and somewhere around Lakes Entrance we headed up to the Snowy River National Park. Buchan, Mackillop Bridge to Delegate River. Sounds simple... you must be joking! It was awesome! We scaled mountains, crossed bridges, saw breathtaking views, hiked to nonexistent falls and swam in the Snowy River. We saw deer, nearly ran over roos, wallabies, foxes, rabbits and an incredibly fast moving wombat. My camera broke.. and then we fixed it. We almost set up camp along the river but our boys were too spooked to stay 'in the wild'. We eventually camped at a camping ground in Delegate River at about 10pm. We woke to a mist over the small creek beside where we had stayed and then it was...

Christmas is Over

Yes! All that planning and excitement is all over,

but what a day it was. Christmas Eve was spent with friends for tea and then with church family for a Christmas Eve service. This year my oldest son played the role of Joseph... no mean feat when you think that he is 15 (almost 16) and I'm sure it was not the 'coolest' thing to do - following a singing, Mary around the church, carrying a lantern. I was having a 'proud mummy' moment. He had said yes to a request from a friend, who was to give Glory to God with her voice, in spite of the possible embarrassment.

When we returned home my husband gathered us together and committed us and the new day to the Lord. I would have been satisfied with these two gifts.

Christmas day began with our traditional 'opening of the stockings'. These seem to grow each year. Then breakfast and the last minute preparations. This year I was determined to enjoy the day, not waste it in whining (under my breath) about the lack of help etc. Both boys had been happy to help peel and cut veges the day before so all that was left was to pop the veges in the oven and arrange some platters to share with my husband's side of the family. Time even to calmly shower and dress, then off to enjoy lunch with family, some of whom I also count as my closest friends. Plenty of food and gifts to share, then home again.

The turkey and more veges in the oven, time to relax, then around the corner to my brother's home to celebrate with my side of the family. Plenty more gifts and food and a puppet performance from my nieces and nephew which left us doubled over in laughter.

Home to bed, abundantly blessed, eternally thankful.

I wonder how we will celebrate next year?