Queen of the Pack Mules

Sam took a 'sickie' on Monday and we headed out for a long weekend camping trip at Pebbly Beach in Murramarang National Park.  Friday had been a blur of preparations, and between meal planning, grocery shopping, Kenyon's swim lessons, and picking up the boys, it wasn't until we were well on the road that it dawned on me that I hadn't seen the two bags of grapes I bought...or the avocado...or the 3 peaches...or the loaf of bread...or the 8 bananas.

Let me preface this gripping tale of the Case of the Missing Groceries by saying that in Australia (or at least in the town where we live), you cannot take your grocery cart outside of Woolworths ('Woolies').  People leave their bags on racks just inside the store and pull their car up to a designated lane for easy access to loading.  It seems a bit cumbersome to do all that, so I have simply gotten accustomed to pack-muling it and carrying all 174,572 bags out to the car in one trip--and really, with my apartment building's elevator having been broken now for 47 days (not that anyone's counting), I am Queen of the Pack Mules, a title I never set out to earn but I think it's the only shot I've got at being a queen so I should relish it.

Anyway, after buying my groceries I had to go next door to the liquor store for ice, so the cashier told me to leave my groceries on the rack by the door.  I asked if they ever had any problem with theft, and she said, "No, absolutely not!  The cashiers all keep an eye on them, and we've never had a problem."  Righty-o...I took care of my errand next door and pulled my car up, Aussie-style, to load my groceries.  Then came the remaining blur of afternoon tasks, and there we were, back in the car heading south as I wondered where my myriad fruits and bread ran off to.

Folks, I know you're in suspense so I'll just solve this mystery for you--on my very first attempt to grocery shop Aussie-style, one of my grocery bags was stolen.  Not cool at all, especially since we were now 2.5 hours south, setting up tents in the dark as I wondered what kind of punishment would befall me when I broke the news to Kenyon that his morning oatmeal would not have chopped peaches.  You don't want to mess with this kid and his breakfast expectations; he's like a rabid, fire-breathing dragon in the early morning light.  There was also the fact that our peanut butter and jelly would have to be eaten by the globful instead of spread on bread since our bread was now sitting in someone else's kitchen (hopefully emanating massive amounts of bad karma if the universe is at all well-balanced).  And I'm fairly certain ensuring an adequate supply of bananas was a major topic in my wedding vows, and now Sam was going to have to go without for three whole days.  Grounds for divorce for sure; did the thief know that he was derailing almost 10 years of marriage with that one stolen bag of groceries?

Our friends Kylie and Josh, who joined us the next morning, were merciful enough to let us hog their bread among many other important foods, like beer, so I'm happy to report that our family is still in tact.

I'm happy to report that when I mentioned the missing grocery bag to the Woolies cashier today, she was more than willing to replace the lost goods even though I had no receipt.  I love businesses with good customer service.  But I'm not leaving my bags on that cart to be grocery-napped again; anyhow, the Queen of the Pack Mules needs to stay on her game lest someone else steal the crown.  There is no end in sight for the broken elevator, so I shall have a long reign.

Oh, and the actual camping portion of the weekend?  Epic.  Pictures to follow in the next post...

They Can't All Be Gems

The loudest clap of thunder I've ever heard boomed last night, without lightning offering its typical courtesy flash as warning.  Sam, who had been snoring peacefully a minute before, said it sounded like the building next door collapsed.

Needless to say, we didn't wake up to a bright and sunny Saturday.

With all this talk of the weather, I should change the name of this blog to The Adventures of Annie and Her Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I had been dreaming of a nice weekend coffee...when they look like this at the wonderful little cafe Lee and Me, how could you not?  That's a spa day in a cup right there, folks.  It's less about the caffeine and more about the fact that I'm treating myself to something that's just for me.  Okay, although I'd like to think it's not, it's also about the caffeine, but still.  Who's paying attention to the fact that it's raining on another Saturday and that it has now been thirty-seven days since the elevator in our building has been broken (not that I'm counting or anything) when there's a swirly design in my frothed milk and a sprinkling of cocoa powder?  Not this lady.

Unfortunately, the dearth of parking spots in town and my groceries that needed to get in the fridge thwarted me from my side mission for coffee, the image of which was left drifting aimlessly in my brain and souring my mood.  As I opened the door to our condo (after lugging bags of groceries through wet puddles around the building, through three doors that need unlocking, and up flights of stairs), the first thing Sam said to me was "You didn't get yourself coffee".  That's what nearing 10 years of marriage gets you--coffee intake status upon first glance.  He mercifully got some going on the stove, and I made a poor substitute of my dreamy vision at home.  Not worth taking a picture of, that's for damn sure.

We did get outside, despite the rain, and searched for beach glass around the rock pool, known as Old Man's Pool.  We had the pool to ourselves; I'm guessing grey skies and rainy weather don't necessarily make the average person think 'beach!'.

the old man in the pool.  I KID!

 A few years ago, a baby shark was found in the rock pool.  Today, we only saw a sea urchin here and there. 

Not that I'm not complaining about the lack of sharks.

In my eyes, the day was basically a wash, but they can't all be gems.  Tomorrow, there will be beach.  And sun.

And you better believe there will be coffee.

New Year's Eve

What better way to begin a year abroad than to land in your new country on New Year's Eve?  I was so excited as we began our descent into Sydney; especially when the Sydney Harbor came into view...

This blog should really be called the Adventures of Annie and Her Tears, because again, I teared up a bit when I saw the Opera House.  We had done all this planning, and now it was really happening!

After settling in to our condo for a couple of hours, we went to a neighbor's house to watch the fireworks display.  We are two blocks from the beach, but they are just directly across from the fireworks, and it feels so good to be in a completely different place but have people as friends right away.  Everyone was so welcoming, and the all the kids hit it off right away.

Leave it to a shared iTouch to bring new friends together... 

We watched the Sydney fireworks on TV, and then a half hour later the Wollongong fireworks began.

I saw this...Jackson is clearly not wasting any time making new friends. :)

Kenyon tried his best, but this is what he was doing on the living room floor while the fireworks boomed...

We look forward to a quiet few days here getting to know our new home, and then we're planning on taking off for a bit of a road trip before the new school year begins at the end of January.

I hope all of you in the States are enjoying ringing in the new year--we miss everyone so much already!