Jenolan Caves and a Rare Sighting

We all woke up on our second Blue Mountain with caves on the brain.  Jenolan Caves are known as Australia's finest, and we loved our visit to Yarrangobilly Caves during our first road trip in January.  Simply driving up to the entrance of the carpark is dramatic in itself, and looks like something you'd see at Disney World.

While our friends Kylie and Josh braved 1300 steps on the River cave tour, the four older kids joined a Junior Explorers class and Sam and I hung out with Kenyon on a self-guided tour.

Sam and I are both pretty sweet on Kenyon, and with three kids it's always a treat to spend some good, quality time with just one--especially since when he's not throwing a royal fit about some perceived injustice (which happens quite a bit), he's a ton of fun to be around.

Sam and I didn't listen to all that much of the audio tour, but Kenyon relished punching the correct number into the device and reciting bits and pieces back to us.  This resulted in our tour consisting of Kenyon's cartoon voice saying, "Limestone formations...water absorbs carbons dioxide...stalagmites".  I don't know if his voice will ever stop being that of a 2-year old, but at least he'll have a profitable future in voice-over work.

We went on a bushwalk afterwards, and walked beside a pond that gets its brilliant shade of blue from light being refracted through dissolved limestone particles.

Just then, I saw something in the water and told Sam that I had just seen a turtle...

...but then realized that it was an elusive creature that we had really been wanting to see in the wild--a platypus!

After platypus-watching, Kylie and Josh were crazy gracious enough to take all the kids back to the house so Sam and I could do one of Jenolan Cave's adventure tours--the Plughole.  We abseiled down a short 8 meters into the hole to start the tour, and then squeezed our way down and through the cave.   While the cave formations weren't spectacular, it was a ton of fun.

in our attractive caving jumpsuits after the abseil

Some spots were small enough that we had to lay on our side with our arm above our head and inch our way through--definitely not for anyone that borders on claustrophobic!

Thanks to Kylie and Josh for good company and planning the trip--we're hoping to get back to the Blue Mountains once springtime hits for some more camping and bushwalking.

Katoomba, Three Sisters, and a Wombat Hole

We're in the middle of a two-week winter school holiday, and I have recently accepted the fact that I'll simply never be accustomed to the winter season happening in what has concretely been the summer months for the first thirty-three years of my life.

To celebrate winter, we took off for a two-night trip to the Blue Mountains with our friends, Kylie and Josh Brightman and their kids.  I told my kids that there may even be frost on the ground, and Alex said he couldn't wait to do snow angels.  Ha!  Sand angels are more common 'round these parts.  I was especially excited that the house we rented for our stay had a woodburning stove, not really to keep warm but because it exponentially increases the cozy factor.

Now, I grew up in flatter-than-flat Miami, but having lived in Colorado for more than a decade, I'm a bit snobbish about how people from flatter regions throw the term 'mountain' around.  At 3,986 ft., the highest point of the Blue Mountains is quite bigger than 'Mount' Keira in our town (which rises to a measly 1,522 ft)--but it's still a far stretch to Denver's mile high altitude (not to mention the 53 peaks exceeding 14,000 feet).

Still, this area of Australia is so beautiful, and right from the cute town of Katoomba we saw the most famous rock formation in the Blue Mountains--the Three Sisters.

It was like herding cats on the hike we went on there--all five kids scampered ahead, weaving around groups of tourists and tromping in and around the muddy path.

Jackson and Xavier stop to drink water droplets falling from the cliff overhang

the crew of 5--Isabella, Alex, Xavier, Jackson and Kenyon

In typical kid 'the cardboard box is much cooler than the actual gift' fashion, the highlight of our pit stop in Katoomba for that whole lot was not viewing the majestic beauty of the Three Sisters or our hike winding down the cliff face--it was exploring a bushy area in the park adjacent to the public restrooms.  

From Katoomba, we headed to Oberon and stayed at Casey's Bush Retreat.  It's always a treat to stay at a rental home that does not have outdated country decor and shabby furnishings, and this place was great.

picture credit

I am, like any rational person, a wee bit obsessed with wombats.  While I was heating up dinner, Sam, Josh and the kids explored and found a massive wombat hole a short walk from the house.

 

And because there were no mothers present to provide a semblance of sanity, the natural next step was to send kids INTO the wombat hole for further exploration.  These photos were taken by Jackson, who lucky for him (and luckier for his father) did not find himself face-to-face with a wombat protecting its turf.

He went in far enough to tell me that 'it went up, down, around, and then broke off into different chambers'.  If this kid grows up and takes an office job instead of doing something outdoors, I'll eat my shirt.

A short time later, sunset was on full display from our porch.

With the woodburning stove roaring and (ahem) the champagne cork popped, it was the perfect way to end this first day.

(tap tap) Is This Thing On?

Well, hello there blog, you long-lost friend.  I've been busy, and in being busy I've missed writing about a big event around these parts.  My parents braved the flight halfway around the planet to come for a visit!

Mom arrived a day before Dad, and my mom's trip was made more comfortable by business class reclining seats and a United-issued down comforter that she may or may not have "accidentally" taken with her as she waved to the flight attendant and left the plane.  Does my witnessing her snipping off the United tags to destroy evidence make me an accomplice after the fact?  I'll have to dust off my criminal law textbook.

Alleged theft aside, it was fun meeting Mom at the airport.  On the way back, the bus driver insisted upon stopping at the Bulli lookout.  You can't see the ocean in the picture, but take my word for it that the view was lovely.  I'm grateful to the bus driver, because this is now my favorite picture of us.

As soon as the school bell rang, the older boys ran out and leapt into her arms...

...and she received the same warm welcome upon arrival at Kenyon's school.

My parents' visit coincided with their 40th wedding anniversary.  When I married Sam, I thought it was a good sign that we both came from families with strong marriages; I'm so thankful for how they've modeled what it means to be a partner through life.

just like newlyweds!

My dad, as my brother once noted, is the Mick Jagger of journalism; he's pretty well-known in his field.  While he was here, he spent some time speaking at the University of Wollongong as well as some media organizations in Sydney and Melbourne.  During one interview, he discussed computer-assisted reporting on a television program called Planet America.  Of course I'm a bit partial because he's my dad, but friends from Miami and others might be interested to hear him talk about Hurricane Andrew; he begins a bit after the 24-minute mark found here.

Between Dad's speaking engagements here in town and their weeklong trip to Melbourne, the month flew by and we all soaked up the inevitable spoiling that is synonymous with Nana and Papa.  Since their visit also coincided with the school drama coming to a head, they were also a welcome distraction as Jackson struggled to deal with his frustration.

One day with the kids in school and husbands working, Mom and I drove to Bundeena and took the ferry to Cronulla.  Walking around, having a coffee at a cafe, and exploring the cute little town was a perfect way to spend the day together.

One of the best experiences my family has had in this country has been seeing the unique wildlife actually in the wild.  Seeing koalas up in the trees at Raymond Island and the wombat(!) nibbling on grass at Wilsons Prom are memories that I will never forget.  Neither of those places are close enough to show visitors, so we settled on Wildlife Sydney during a long weekend outing.  Koalas are pretty darn adorable wherever you see them, and I think Mom would have stuffed a koala into her purse if there were any eucalyptus trees growing back at home in Arizona.

I never tire of taking ferries around Sydney--it's a gorgeous city to explore.

Dad and I with the Harbour Bridge backdrop

My parents were good sports and agreed to go stay in a cabin at one of our favorite places, Murramarang National Park.  The 3-hour drive in the drizzly dark night in a minivan full of children surely isn't the way they usually travel, but it was undeniably well worth the trip to wake up in the morning and see this:

The Depot Beach cabins are just a 2-minute walk from the beach, where kangaroos graze on plants and grasses right on the sand.  Rainbow lorikeets, galahs, and king parrots are also everywhere.

I think hanging out with the kangaroos and gorgeous birds at the cabin as well as exploring the seaside outcroppings was the highlight of the whole visit for us all; well, except of course, the outing to Birdland Animal Park to see visit my soulmate, the illustrious Bubbles the Wombat!!  

I mean, HONESTLY.  She is just so darn adorable.  That right there, that wombat snuggle, is worth braving the flight across the planet in itself.

The folks at Birdland take in orphaned wombats and raise them until they can be released into the wild a few years later.  The baby wombats go home with their caregivers each night.  Yes, I'm telling you there's an actual career where one of the responsibilities is wombat snuggling.  Man, I missed my calling bigtime with this whole law business.

It sounds overly simplistic, but family is good; I like these people and I'm glad I don't normally live across the world from them.  Love you, Mom and Dad!

Sea Snapshots and Silhouettes

It's a short walk to the beach, but one family member in particular often looks like quite burdened as he lugs what he deems an unreasonable amount of weight.

Still, once we hit the corner and see this--

it's funny how his trudging becomes more of a delighted scamper.

Jackson and Alex never tire of time in the ocean, and Kenyon spends time in the water or busying himself in the sand.  We are all aware that wiling away a few hours at the beach is much more logistically difficult in our normal life back in Colorado, so we make this short trip as much as possible.

Last weekend, I gingerly brought the camera into the water, capturing moments that we can look back on in the coming years.  I need to choose a couple that are wall-worthy, so I'm all ears if there's one in particular that you like.

These first ones are of Al Pal...

...and Jackson...

...and Sam.

The Frustrated Buddha

There are many words that could be used to describe who I am as a human being in this world.  Ones that spring to mind would likely be different depending on the person doing the describing, and I'm humble enough to know that some may not necessarily be complimentary--but I'm certain that the word 'pious' or any of its even somewhat-related synonyms would make it into the Top 100 that anyone, friend or foe, would choose.

I recently heard a statement that nature is not cruel; it's indifferent.  I grasp hold to this statement as I make thin attempts to make sense of this world, a world where my friend Summer struggles to come to grips with having so many hospice patients under the age of 50 dying of cancer; a world where Maya Thompson channels her overwhelming grief at losing her perfectly gorgeous youngest son Ronan into action; a world where my friend Meghan isn't here to raise her three babies.  I should not personally know two completely unrelated people, one in his thirties and one who was only five, who have died from brain tumors.  And three more under the age of 40 (including my own brother) who have had cancer, but thankfully the roulette wheel turned up a non-fatal kind.

And cancer aside, of course there's a whole host of other devastations that could turn any eternal optimist into a Debbie Downer.  

I can only make sense of this life and its everpresent attendant, grief, with reserving my...piety, if you will...for life itself.  For our Earth, and how lucky we are to be here with the people we love for the time we're given.  

A friend gave me this in college, and it hangs in my bedroom by my closet back in Denver.  I can't think of a more true statement.

. . . . . . . . . .

I think the first tape I ever bought was Beastie Boys' Licensed to Ill (it was either that or Huey Lewis' album Fore!, but I'm going to go with Licensed to Ill to keep my street cred).  During a road trip that summer of 1986, my brother and I tortured regaled our parents with our rendition of Paul Revere (that to this day I still know every.single.word. to, even though I can't remember what I made for dinner last night).

Adam Yauch, Beastie Boys band member and practicing Buddhist, passed away last month after a three-year battle with throat cancer.  I read a Rolling Stone interview with Yauch's friend and fellow band member Adam Horovitz, and this statement caught my eye:

Did the comfort he took in Buddhism help you deal with his illness and passing?

I don't believe Adam was afraid.  Bummed out, yeah.  But I can't think when I ever saw him afraid.  We got jumped in Brooklyn one time, so we've been afraid in that sense.  But, man, he hadn't been afraid in a long time.  That gives me peace. Read more: http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/beastie-boys-adam-horovitz-opens-up-about-adam-yauch-he-was-in-charge-20120523#ixzz1x4oSkGn8

. . . . . . . . . .

Scripture is offered in Australian schools, so I signed the boys up for Buddhism.  I don't care for attaching myself to any organized religion, and I feel strongly that the boys should make an informed decision if they should ever decide there is (or isn't) a particular belief system they should follow.  That aside, Buddhism feels less like a religion and more like a philosophy, and there are principles that are useful for making one's way through life.  I know you could in theory say that about any religion, but Buddhism seems to lack the absolutes and judgment about how one should live their life that have soured my view towards the rest.

Alex has expressed frustration at attending Buddhism classes, but he unfailingly cracks me up in his earnest, wholehearted protests.  Imagine a true, verging on teary-eyed, complainy voice as you read these gems:

• "We watched a cartoon movie about the Buddha and it was so fake!  He was born and then just started walking right away; that would never happen in real life!"
• Him: "All we do is chant 'Lumbini Garden'!!"  Me: "What is Lumbini Garden?" Him: "It's where the Buddha was born.  I saw a picture and it's just grass; there's no flowers at ALL--what kind of a garden is that???"
• "I can't even tell my Buddhism teachers apart!  They dress the same and have the same hair!" (they are monks who wear robes and have shaved heads)

Still, I catch him incorporating little Buddhist things into his day now and then, more so than Jackson.  And if it can help him navigate his way through the world, deal with grief, and be a better, more conscious person, then I think it's time well-spent.

The Three Rs, With Some Misery Thrown In For Good Measure

We had a couple weeks of tough behavior coming from Jackson, which after a lot of prodding came out as frustrations and difficulties he'd been having with school.  The school...oh, this school.  My nephew has learned to politely say that certain foods are not his favorite when he's faced with something he intensely dislikes, so I've taken a lesson from him and I'll just say that this school is not my favorite.  I don't want to generalize about an entire country--it's hard to say which frustrations simply stem from differences in educational philosophy that I would find at any school here, or which ones are related to this school in particular...either way, it has been a challenging experience to find a well of patience deep enough to get through the school year.

Jackson's well had run dry--he began saying he hated school, that he wished school was never invented, which was so hard for me to hear.  Back home (and this is no exaggeration), he would excitedly say as I drove him to school in the morning, "I wonder what we're going to learn today!".  It was hard for him to feel as well, and it was coming out in agitated, unacceptable behavior around the house and towards us.  One night, he finally confided in me that a couple of weeks earlier, he had been repeatedly taunted by older students to throw a juice box at them--and he did--and the principal at school happened to be walking by and told him he was being an idiot with the juice box.

An idiot?


Throwing a juice box at someone is admittedly not the best choice, but I would expect more out of someone in a position of authority than to demean a child by using such an insult.  Again, I'd like to not chalk this up to being reflective of Australian culture as a whole, but when I told another Australian about this incident, he said that when he was a kid, his teacher wrote on the board "Idiot 1", "Idiot 2", and "Idiot 3", and would have children stand under those labels if they were misbehaving.

Simply opening up about his feelings has helped Jackson tremendously--he also took the initiative to speak to his teacher about his feelings towards the principal.  This all coincided with being able to choose his own project for this school term; I thought this was a great opportunity for him to get engaged with something he was interested in.  The boys spend many a pre-bedtime evening sitting in a dark room listening to Sam read the Lord of the Rings books by headlamp, so he decided to make Bilbo Baggins' hut.  Jackson's interest waxed and waned throughout the development and creation of the project, but he had an undeniably proud grin on his face as we carried the hut in all its paper mache glory into his classroom.  

Since then, his attitude has changed; he is striving to be Student of the Week and is making a concerted effort to be helpful in the classroom.  He and Alex both will still freely express frustration and dislike for their school, but it doesn't seem to be a dark cloud hanging over every moment like it was for a while there.

Just this morning as we walked to school, Jackson said, "I'm just taking it week by week, Mom.  That's the only way I'm going to get through this school year."  Wise words, kiddo.