All great things come to an end…they say. I dont like this saying, its so pessimistic and grumpy, like a sour puss on top of a warm newborn kitten. Get off!

But our trip did have to come to an end, but not before we took a drive the long way home. We felt like sight seeing.

The forests in the beginning of the drive were so beautiful and a nice change from the dryness of the city.

And there was a lot of it. Green and luscious.

Until we came half way and stopped for a break. We were looking for a nice waterfront place or park to rest and let the kids run wild, instead we stumbled on a fancy waterfront new development. But it had coffee, ice drinks and water. We enjoyed..

Coffee…

The Caramel loved the decorations and the ceiling. I think he was still a bit woozy from the long trip and being strapped down like a madman. I think he was smelling freedom and air..

We waited for our refreshments..

And went outside and sat on the grass.

Where we drank.

We looked at the scenery.

And Caramel.

Caramel?

He lost it. He was running circles.

The poor boy had a bunch of energy to waste and he sure did.

Unfortunately for him, the car seat was not far away and after we had stretched some limbs and rubbed skin on the grass we were back in the vehicle, now rubbing tires on the road.

The views were now not that inspiring and I was getting bored.

Freeway.

A truck. A car. A truck. A car. A car. A car…

Yawn.

So did some playing with underexposing the sunny day for dramatic effect.

Hey, those clouds are not half bad.

Nah.

The low point was reached when I started intentionally taking out of focus pictures.

Yep.

But home felt good.

Its very important to clean and tidy your house before going on a trip. It makes coming back home so much better. Otherwise one feels like coming back to the everyday chores, instead of back to comfort and warmth.

And this is the end of this trip.

Now I want another.

And another.

Still alive, just managed to exceed our download limit for the month and we are now stuck with a sloooow connection. Which is kind of good, because my computer is gathering dust for real now, but so is my blog unfortunately. I still love you though, k!

____________

So, if you remember, we left this story of ours with me comfortably in bed, covered in soft sheets, hoping that the morning will bring a nice sunny day for us to enjoy the wonderful beach around the corner. The best beach, really.

In the morning we were cautious. The sky was looking clear, there was sun, the hope was alive. Usually we go to the beach in the afternoon and spend our time there until sunset. But today we scrambled our things and flew out trying to catch the nice weather.

Back on the road, with kids in the back…

All was looking fine.

We might just make it…

Fast down the stairs.

Gasp..

Cough…

AWE…

Its magnificent.

We made it. Its sunny, warm and we are here.

Feel it?

How about the soft fine sand between your toes?

Or between your bum cheeks?

Or both?

We have traveled, Mr.Blab and I. We have.

But there are very few other places like this one. And since we choose to come outside of the official holidays, we also have the place pretty much to our lovely selves.

It does not get any better.

Well, maybe if you have one of those nakid man with you and you rub his soft sandy bum from time to time…

The girls were happy too.

Off doing their thing, exploring, cartwheeling, jumping, splashing and so on.

They went off with dad to walk along the big rocks. Then I took Miss Fab and did the same.

We looked through some rock pools and people who were fishing amongst the waves.

And around lunch time it was time to get some food in our bellies, so we drove to town. There we saw the future, or what Caramel Popcorn will look like…or what Caramel Popcorn will look like according to Mr.Blab.

I dont know, I am not so sure.

We ordered some fresh Vietnamese rolls from this place, the one with the big round lamps.

Then we headed across the road to the park that was calling our names.

“Come to meeee…looook…me green…me good…me fresh…me have a bench…”

We had no option, so we went.

At first the man was mellow, but then he saw the birds.

Then we sent the big girl after to chase him chasing birds.

He liked it.

But if you thought this was cute (and you better, cause otherwise you will be thrown out of my blog!)
wait till you see the latest trick this little fella has come up with.

Ready?

“Are you cute, Dodman?”

Answer:

I have no idea where this came from, but we are lapping it up like thirsty camels in a dry spell desert.

Then some more driving around through the scenery and back roads.

And for dinner we used the bounty from our middle of the road unmanned farm shop from the day before.

Here is what happened to our kipfler potatoes, corn and cucumbers.

Lovely day really.

But just in case you forgot what it was all for, here is a picture for farewell.
(Sorry if you are in the northern hemisphere)

Love it, love it, love it.

Accomplished and snuggled up in the bed with the soft sheets
with  slightly tingling burned shoulders
- yours truly.

I slept really good, although our bed was just a queen and we didnt have much room to play with. On the other hand the sheets were soft, really soft, and the pillows were very comfortable. Or maybe it was the fact that the temperature was cool and after all those warm nights back home, just felt right.

We were awoken by the excited girls, one of them which was a birthday girl. The gifts were all brought out and ready for dismembering opening. Lots of jumping around, torn up paper and it was done in seconds. Then the new scooter was taken for a ride and the rest of the gifts up to the kids room and all around really.

Quick breakfast and some outside fun concluded the early morning.

This is where the lala land world ended up too.

The weather pretty much sucked.

There was not a single blue sky to be seen and it was raining.

But we had orders to go to the petting zoo and nothing was going to stop us. Nothing.
So we jumped in the car and took off.

Being in a rainy area has its advantages, like green surroundings and beautiful lush trees.

We had to come to a sudden stop at the sight of some fresh produce on the side of the road.

We turned and had a better look.

Right in the middle of the small side road, with not a soul in sight, was this little set up:

Produce – carrots, cucumbers, potatoes, corn et cetera, et cetera.

Prices – yep.

People to serve – none.

We grabbed some things and paid.

Yep.

Right where it said so.

Ok, dont you just love it?

But I couldnt stay and enjoy this example of human goodness. We had places to go.

Animals to pat.

The friendship bracelets Miss Fab made were in use and Little B was loving her new bag too.

I love taking “warm” shots when its cloudy and rainy.

And more road snaps (I warned you).

And then we were there.

The goats were sooo happy.

See, because the weather was crappy, people were not coming and the animals were hungry. Their usual parade of humans with bags of feed were somewhere else, keeping dry.

But not us.

They loved us – or wanted to eat us, I am not sure which.

That middle one is Lips. We named her last time because she does this funny thing with her mouth. It looks like a goat thing, but she does it more so than the other ones.

The Dod was into it straight away. He had no qualms putting his hands in just about any mouth.

This one was not hungry. Just wanted to sleep.

These ones were from the mob, I think. They were giving me the evil eye.

The ducks couldnt care any less who we were. They just walked around like they owned the place.

And kept on jumping in this little pan. Muahaha, and they think they are All That?! Snicker.

See, another animal has my sons’ hand in their mouth.

This one sucked on it too. You can see it in his eyes.

“I have sucked on the Caramel Popcorn! Have you?”

As a matter of fact…

Then the ducks walked by in their snobby way.  Or was it wobbly…
Dont judge, my English is not that good.

Miss Fab spent most of her time with the bunnies and guinea pigs.
She was stealing grass from the camel,
which was too busy parading around proud of its caramelized mouth.

And then Mr.Blab had the camera.

Which is not always good.

He documented me from beehind. In all my glory.

Lets dissect, shall we.
The boy is bare footed, cause we were not prepared for cold weather. So I had the pink scarf dug from the car to wrap him in it. That top and those pants were the only warmer clothes in my arsenal too. Too bad they didnt match, work together in any way. But at least he didnt capture the best part. My flip flops. My Birkis.  The look was wonderful, I tell you.

Even she was staring at me.

The best part for me was yet to come though.

A birth.

One of the goats gave birth while we were there.

It was beautiful.

She licked them so carefully and loving.

One of them was calling loudly and strong. But she was giving the other one more attention. I wondered if its because she feels it needed her help more.. Also the whole time she would what seemed to me, reassure them. They would call and she would make this deep noise, like a grunt. Every time.

We got to hold a joey too.
(joey is a baby kangaroo )

There were a few orphans in the place and they were rearing them.

And then on to other things.

You may say, where is this rain? I no see it!

Here

And here:

See, I told you.

But on pictures it looks nice, I think.

Too bad its not good for beach.

And this place has one of our favorite beaches ever.

We HAVE to go to it.

The weather reports are not good. We are getting worried.

And start thinking of plan B – extending the holiday to wait for the sunny day…

After pizza dinner, as ordered by the birthday girl, we go to bed and hope.

Hope against all hope that the weather is better tomorrow…

..

It better be.

It has been awhile since we have had a good road trip. Maybe two years or so. It was long overdue.

Our plans were quite simple,  nothing like that time when we drove across the  whole country. Still we were definitely excited and really looking forward to it. There was no snickering at our impending 5 hour trip, lets put it that way. And since it was also going to be a celebration of Miss B’s birthday…well, things were in a different dimension.

We piled an impressive amount of stuff for a quick 4 day trip. The boot was full. Not only that, but there were things under the back seats and under the front one too. The important part was that the girls had their own bags “on wheels” and they packed them themselves with great enthusiasm. I miss those times when things like that used to bring fizz in my day.

And we were off. Its a road trip, so be prepared for a few…road snaps.

The day was wonderful, not a cloud in the sky. Quite promising for us to enjoy one of our favorite beaches in the whole world.

The boy in the back was finding his own entertainment, while I was trying to find a spot for my head, so I can get a doze.
I always get sleepy in the car.

Since the school holidays were over and people had gone back to their jobs and daily lives, the roads were empty.

Except this guy:

4.5 hours and a stop for a snack and to stretch out the old limbs we were off the road and into the bush, on our way to the blueberry farm.

We love berries. But they are so incredibly, unreasonably expensive that we can mostly have them in small quantities.

Unless, that is,

we pick them ourselves.

And this is what we do down here. We pick a huge pile of blueberries and eat them by the handful.

While some were productive

Others just kept on digging in the dirt and not only that, but throwing it in my bucket!

I managed to clean it up a bit and fill it nicely with the blue fellas.

We were so fast! It was our fastest pick up ever.

On the way out of the area for picking, it happened.

It did.

I had started to hope it will never happen.

But it did.

I saw my first…

..wild snake.

Just like that, it scurried past, in front of us.

Miss Fab was with me, or I would have caused a scene. Ran around like a maniac or something.
But no, I had to be the responsible parent and be calm.

I dont know if that was the reason, or just there is nothing so freaky about the creatures, but I didnt really find it that scary. The snake just passed by, quite quickly. Maybe I didnt have time to react the way I always thought I would. Maybe I was just shocked. Who knows.

Anyway, I survived.  But I am definitely, absolutely positively not interested in repeating the experience.

After we loaded with berries we made our way to the place we rented.

The kids went wild.

Up and down the stairs, carefully placed all the contents of their bags around their room and in the wardrobe and drawers.

The place was nice and spacious.

We relaxed and I whipped up a quick pasta meal.

Which we enjoyed on the outside table.

Later on a shower and some impressively soft sheets ensured a lovely sleep, which prepared us for the next day.

(to be continued)

I will fit in here everything else I couldnt put in its own category.
(Мr.Blab said it was not very inspired work “just mailed it in”, he said)

_____

Тhis is the outdoor mall in Glendale – the “Americana at Brand”

Looked brand spanking new and grand.

The shops were all around the park in the middle and there were little cafes and benches to sit on.

The strange thing is that there were no people on the grass. Here, in Aussie land,  the grass is free to enjoy area, not sure that applies to fancy outdoor malls in LA.

These are bins in Beverly Hills
Huge bins for lots of waste, I guess.

Some random shots from our drives around the city.

The place is huge. Without a car, I have no idea how one would exist here.

So there are a lot of cars.

And big badly patched up roads

I went to the headless ducks place, up in the hills:

Not really, but there is this reservoir bang smack around the way to the Hollywood sign and all the other madness around the place. Its a green oasis, green splat on the GPS that seemed like another world.

Beautiful, peaceful and green.

The kids would have loved it here.

LA is not all crazy though. There were quite a few places that seemed like a lovely area to live in. Usually when I inquired about them it turned out they were for those special people that make lots of money.

Oh, speaking of the Hollywood sign, we saw this stunning goddess of a pregnant woman there and we took a picture.

The road to the sign itself was closed for some reason, but my Host found some sneaky way and I got to see it at least. The trip was worth it and the hills are quite lovely. Still not sure how this sign has become such a symbol, as its quite boring, small and absolutely not interesting at all. If you are coming here, do it for the views and the hills themselves, as the sign will disappoint, in my opinion.

While down there life is like this:

Around Hollywood Blvd looks like this:

..up there its all kind of beautiful.

Even the Valley looks appealing with its smog and all.

I went to “The Comedy Store” where my Host had scared me that the people on stage will most likely make fun of me at some point. I gladly announce that I am not that interesting and I was left alone.

We went to “LaVelee” and listened to Lynne Fiddmont, a Jazz chick, while munching on some lovely dinner snacks and sipping a glass of wine. There I heard a song that lasted with me for a long time – All I do.  Seriously it was in my head for days on end. Her version was slow and jazzie. It not her song, but Stevie Wonder’s. I had never heard it before, even though I am a fan of Stevie. Here is another woman having a crack at it (now I will have it in my head again. Groovy!):

And this is LA for you.

Or at least how and what I saw of it.

Thanks to Casa de Alberta for the wonderful hospitality.  Will never forget it.

And then I took my bags and 7 month belly on a plane and back to my continent:

Baseball. I had never seen one of those games before. Really, how many people outside of the US have? Not me. I had tried to go watch the Yankees while I was in New York, but they didnt play home the days I was there, so I got desperate and I ended up visiting the Anaheim Angels in LA.

Here is what a baseball game looked to me, the complete ignoramus on this popular activity of the North American and… Japanese cultures.

Parking space was huge. The lot was so big I was sure we will get lost on the way out. People were congregating from everywhere, it seemed.

Entry was reasonably painless. Nobody removed my shoes or checked under my tongue for hidden weapons. Phew!

The stadium is huge. To me our seats were perfect, but obviously that is not so, as they were not the expensive kind.

The evening was pleasant and the wind was caressing my skin just right. I was excited and looking forward to the game.

There was a bit of walking around like in a daze. Almost dreamlike..

A lot of bending.

and bending

Even officials bend.
Here the pitcher is trying to prevent the gray dude from stealing a base and Number 35 has constipation.

Tra-la-la-la-la…stolen glances and skipping in the night light.

The atmosphere is rather pleasant.

There were no idiots shouting or throwing around their arms and spit upset at something.

People were just having a good time.

Kids? It seemed the perfect spot to bring them for some fun – watching prancing, bending happy men having fun.

There was some action.

A lot of that:

..that:

..that arm thing. The way that nobody throws a ball:

There were a lot of statistics, numbers, scoring averages and whatnots posted on a board, but my Host had little knowledge of them all. I doubt anyone does. Its insane. There were a few bats that met the ball and that is quite exciting.

I even got to see this:

YAY!

Ok, where is the food now?

I loved the food guys.
They walk around and throw food to the people in their seats.
“I want some”, “Sure!” CHUCK!
FUN!

I consumed some beer, a hotdog and some cracker jacks. All a perfect companion to a very enjoyable night.

I liked baseball. I will do it again.

I am not an amusement, theme park kind of gal. They dont do more for me than a fancy mall does – ooh, lovely..thats cute…that costs what?…I think we saw that already…lets go home, aka. commercial sheep in a pan surrounded by greedy wolves. Or like the scene in Finding Nemo where the deep water fish is swinging its adorned with light tail to bring the heroes close enough to eat them. But most of all in a world full of  countless variety of authentic experiences, spending my time in a fake promotional world and giving my money to giant corporations is not on my list of things I prefer doing.

And yet, when my “shoe criticizing” Host was adamant I had to go to Universal Studios, I just had to, I so had to he was prepared to pay for it himself, I buckled and agreed to give it a go.

We entered through the Citywalk. A pretend city within a city.

This is where donkey ended up:

Its better than the swamp, I guess…or not.

First we went to the Studio Tour.

You jump on a little cart wagon with open sides and then starts the tour through the studio.

This was shortly after the fires there and here is a shot of the damage down bellow:

We passed some well known vehicles.
I somehow doubt that this is an original, but just call me a skeptic and move on.

Some special effects with incoming cars.

Dr Seuss anybody?

Desperate Housewives were not accessible.

Sets. This was something from some movie, but I cannot remember what.
Anybody?

This was a tiny set we passed though.
I found this interesting as it really showed some of the ways you can do quite impressive special effects.
The ship was about the length

of my arm.

My favorite were the wild west sets.

Here is one of the special things you can see while on tour:

Looks all fun and dandy…

And then its not anymore.

Again, one year later I cannot remember the commentary,
but they did say that this set has been used for a few famous flooding scenes

There was a plastic shark flung at us, in honor of Jaws.
There was an exploding truck in an “underground” subway.
And a few other things.

Then after some walking around we waited a bit to see the Waterworld attraction.

It was a quick performance with impressive jumps, explosions and special effects.

Like the crashing in airplane:

But I had a feeling something else was capturing the attention of proportion of the public.

Something much less technical.

The organizers knew it too, hence the almost non existent skirt and hugging top.

We went into the Backdraft pyrotechnics bonanza.
Following the doors and rails we went through a few presentations,
culminating in the last hall where we witnessed the big fire and wobbly floor.

We didnt go on any rides, as they were not suitable for pregnant specimens like me, or so it said.

The Jurassic Park didnt exclude me officially, so we lined up.

Just before we got on the ride, a woman comes to me and informs me
that its not a good idea to go on as there is a 25m (84foot) drop at the end of the line.
I look at the cart, look at the padded metal security straps (which can go above my belly)
and thank her for her concern, but I will be fine. She moves away.

Then another person comes to warn me, maybe because they are not sure I am comprehending or something.
I assure them that I understand what they are saying, but I will be fine.

The ride is not that exciting at all…until the end.
I was prepared, belly underneath, arms and feet braced…

SWOOOSH, a big ole drop, where your gut hits the inside of your throat! Hahaha.
And you end up in the water.

That WAS fun. And getting wet in the sunny hot day was even better.

And no, dont do that at home fellow pregnant women

And that was that.
Back up the escalator and into the world.

Did I hate it?

No.

Would I do it again?

No.

I am still not an amusement, theme park kind of gal.

More than a year later, its time to come back and try and finish up the last few posts from my trip.

It all paused in LA. Not sure if the fact that the city didnt impress me that much or just because it happened to be the last big stop and hence I was tired of writing, but the fact of the matter is that this post has been waiting for a long time to be written.

The reason I came to LA was because I thought it would be interesting and because Mr.Blab’s best friend lives here, so I could stay for free, which is not something to be disregarded in any around the world trip. And thank goodness he was there to keep me company and to drive me around, as the place is huge and public transport is non existent.

I of course put foot on Venice Beach boardwalk.

.

Had lunch at a cafe there. I believe it was a salad of some kind. Some hippy kind.

The place was interesting. Mr.Blab used to tell me how they would sit around here and do “people watching” and I can see how that would be a perfect place for that. The individuals and deviations one can find make for a good conversation starter. There is a lovely relaxed atmosphere, which is counterbalanced by the self involved cool people who also roam around.

Speaking of beaches, my guide took me to Zuma beach in Malibu.

Then made me climb up a cliff while making fun of my sandals. Apparently they were not suitable for such activities.

He even took a picture of my offending footwear!

Yours truly, after climbing sandy cliffs.

The beach is huge. It was a work day so I am guessing that is why it was so quiet and peaceful.

When we came back down we chatted with the security guard who was watching over the parked trailers.
We didnt get to see the shooting of a movie, but we saw the change rooms…from outside.

More beach.

We were coming back from Zuma beach when we passed this area and I had to stop to take a picture of these houses.
You dont get much more beach front than that.

Staying with a local who makes fun of your shoes has its benefits.
He knew all the cool local places for food.

The first night we went to his favorite authentic Mexican restaurant Las Hadas which I enjoyed a lot all the way to the hot peppers and cool beer. It aint no Taco Bell dear readers. It was big plates of soft meat and condiments that were absolute bliss for this glutton.

Then he knows which diner to take you so you can experience the real deal and a lot of old people sipping coffee silently.

So you can eat a big ole plate of breakfast.

Followed by a big ole plate of waffles with cream and maple syrup.

Yum.

Or a little sneaky Chinese place.

That also make a killer wonton soup.

Yummmey.

And you can be driven to the markets for a cup of coffee.

Walk around.

Admiring  the creative display.

And of course eating. This time some southern food. Spicy Jambalaya and potatoes.

Since I did other things than eat as well…next we go to a baseball game.

To be continued…

The day after the rally we jumped the bus again and went to the city center to meet with a friend of mine.

Canberra is not an exciting place by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I cried the day I arrived all those years ago. I did. I sat on the floor of my hotel room and cried, wondering what the hell am I doing in this god forsaken place at the end of the world. Still, the center has had this nice feel to it since then, as it is basically enclosed by buildings and free of cars and full of little shops, cafes and whatnots. Small, but friendly and mellow like.

So we got off the bus at the interchange and that part looked a bit more put together. It didnt have the old feel of being the night toilet area for various drunk individuals. Then we entered Garema Place (the pedestrian area) and I thought something must have happened. Something wrong. The place was dead. Yes, it was Tuesday, but it was almost lunch time and people still had to eat. Where were all the people! Then I walked and I saw all the FOR LEASE signs on old favorites.

Something was not right. I walked further and a bit further, but the area was ghost town. Then at the end I entered the shopping mall kind of a place to try and figure out where the book store was that I was meeting my friend. And there was my answer. The Canberra Centre had grown, grown, grown into this huge monolithic, never ending town of its own.  It had expanded from its original size to about 5-7 times the size, sprawled down the length of the street into what used to be parking areas, both indoor and outdoor. Once you enter it, you dont have to show your nose outside at all. Just walk up and down through one of its fancy floors and buy to your heart’s desire.

This is just one street over from Garema Place. From the FOR LEASE signs that sit lonesomely on dusty windows reminiscing for the times that were, the times that have passed and will never come back.

The old Sammies Kitchen we used to order from, when I would pick Mr.Blab from work and do a run in pick up from, was now a fancy restaurant with hurried waitresses that didnt want to accommodate me and Caramel Popcorn.

It was not a place I knew or wanted to know.

That day my little man showed for sure that he is getting under the weather and started looking more tired and coughing a more violent cough. He refused to sleep at all in the bed, so he was strapped on me for the whole night, while I tried to do laundry and eat. It was a rough night.

The next morning I decided to drive to our old neighborhood and just visit. Waste a day and get out of the sick house. As the car that I was so generously given was running on gas, something I have never used before, I asked the station assistant to fill it up for me, which she did graciously. Then we were on our way. Half way on the highway I notice that the fuel gauge has gone down one third. And it kept on going…and going…half way…Panic raises in me, I admit. I imagine myself stuck on the highway with a sick little one and empty car with who knows what issue, trying to figure it all out. Still going down..what the hell is going on…and the car is not mine…shit…STOP IT!..still going down…there are whimpers form the back seat, followed by a cry. I look back to reassure him and there is my baby, with tears in his eyes, boogers flowing down his mouth, sad puppy dog eyes and a bloody nose. Pull to the side and run around pick him up and look for anything to wipe him down. Thankfully I had taken a bib for some reason in my bag. He relaxes a bit and the blood subsides. I am looking for a scratch or anything to give me a convenient explanation for the incident. No, such luck. Just one of those things. I think about my predicament. My friend had told me something about after 200km to switch the tanks to petrol. So I did that and the fuel gauge stayed the same. Looked around and decided that the stupid thing doesnt work, so they probably calculate how many km they can do on a certain amount of gas and then switch if needed. I knew I put gas in, so I pushed on, hoping my thinking was right.

It was another cold day. Life here had changed as well. It has been just over 3 years and life has moved on so much. We walked around and grabbed a lunch and sat down. This was my area. It was a place I had spent a lot of time. It was where Mr.Blab and I met and smooched around the corner many a times. And yet, its like it never was. Stories are lost in this progressive world of development and change. The human aspect of the history of the place is non existent. There are no roots to speak of. Its because stories are carried by people. My story is carried by the people I know, those that have shared theirs with me and vice versa. The area is overrun by multinational outlets that are not concerned with me, or you, or that lovely person over there. The people that work in them change more often than any other business. Maria serves coffee today, Tom is on duty tomorrow and so on. No long term connection can be made. No story to be kept, to be saved and retold later.

I was watching this world around me and it all looked so cold, so empty, so…sad. So fake and wrong.

I was going to stop at the market to visit a shop that was run by a lovely family back than and see if I can reclaim some of my past, but my poor little bug fell asleep as we got in the car, so I just drove by. The shop was there, so maybe next time. If there is one.

The evening and night were hard. Popcorn was lumpy and clingy and my heart was breaking for him. There truly is nothing like having a sick child. The quiet whimpering, the content look of the little moist eyes, even though he has every right to be panicking and asking me for answers as to whats going on. So again, I ate my dinner on the floor of the kitchen, so he can be next to me while I scoffed the food and the carpet in the living room was a lovely light color that would not have appreciated my tomato sauce, I am sure. Sleep at night was not happening and we spent it up and down and down and up.

The day we were leaving was sunny. Not just sunny, but without a cloud, not even one, in the sky. Was that celebratory acknowledgment for our departure? It sure felt like it in my sleep deprived, exhausted brain. The rest is history – flight one with sick child and numerous boogers wiped on my black top, scarf used for the rest as my tissues were too out of reach, bought a coffee at Melbourne and a beautiful looking croissant, which turned out to be over microwaved and I choked on the powdered sugar, while Popcorn spilled my coffee on the airport floor. Then a flight to here, which took forever and I had to spend most of it on my feet, as the little one was not happy on the seat and the amount of boogers on my top had started to make some interesting patterns glistening under the dim lighting, coughing was horrendous and he was not eating much, not even breastfeeds, which just raised my worry level even higher. As a cherry on the top, the weather back home was yuck, so we had some good measure of turbulence and this really doesnt make me happy, as I am not the best of plane travelers. But dropping through hole after hole in the sky, sharp turns that whiz through dark gray clouds while holding an exhausted sad looking almost one year old is as fun as I can take before asking for a freakin break. I could have cried crocodile tears at this point, I was feeling so sorry for myself.

And then we landed and I saw the top of Mr.Blab’s head through the crowd and then the girls with huge grins on their faces and the happy moist eyes of Miss Fab and life was good again in an instant, no longer than that. And the rain didnt matter and the angry clouds could not cast a shadow on me. I was home, where I belonged. And it felt so good.

Mr.Blab forwarded to me a message:

“Dear Prime Minister Rudd,
Last year my first grandson was born in Australia with the help of a midwife.  It was a sweet and poignant moment and all the more precious because it was a  private, safe affair at home. All families deserve the right to make the  choice for home birth. Why are you not all out in support for this freedom?  Make sure midwives are included in the insurance risk pool. No excuses  whatever!
Sincerely,
Mr.Blab’s Mom
Grandmother of an Australian baby boy happily born at home.”

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