The soulful tunes of Norah Jones’s “Feels Like Home” is playing softly in the background on the antiquated CD player, a freshly poured glass of gin and tonic is pleasant company along with sounds of the ocean conversing with the sands situated just beyond the caravan park and with my feet up, seated outside the van, I am alone but certainly not lonely.
The gin is a Christmas
gift from Daryl, purchased and then imported from England, it is a subtle
reminder of good times in my recent memory. The beach, certainly the sounds emanating
from its shore, fills me with a sense of belonging, peace and permission to
indulge in the world of words whether it be through reading a novel or three or
tapping away at my laptop as I am doing now. A perfect way to begin a brief
sojourn from the real world. I am most fortunate and a little selfish, to be
here. Daryl has just driven back towards the farm, with work commitments making
his stay brief but I hope he would say enjoyable. Just the two of us, kids and
friends were banned and we took 24 hours out of ordinary life. Later my longtime
friend and her two young teens will arrive, tomorrow, my twin sons and daughter,
with little people in tow, will join me and the van will be full of stuff and
noise once again. I am looking forward to it all, but for now, I will relish in
the serenity.
Hot on the tail of a busy Christmas day, last night we strolled on the beach, watched the
sunset and spoke with family from England, whose day was just about to begin. It
is so easy now to keep in touch and we were thrilled they were home, albeit rugged
up to fend away the winter chill, while we were in shorts and thongs. Our own
day was filled with family festivities beginning on Christmas eve as we
prepared our contributions to the day in the form of pavlova’s (Daryl's specialty)
and roast turkey (my specialty), all the while entertaining two granddaughters
so their parents could prepare and assemble gifts too big to fit under the Christmas
tree. Celebrations began in the early afternoon, with a visit across the road
where the cats will be holidaying for a week, their placement was the perfect opportunity
to share a drink and gifts with our neighbour and some of her family, visiting
from interstate. The little girls were very happy to play with two other girls
and made fast friends. The cats settled, although I doubt they will thank me
for their temporary relocation. The catch ups continued to Churchill and ended
at the traditional Christmas eve dinner with most of Daryl’s family. Loads of
food, kids running amuck is usual and a visit from Santa on his firetruck was a
treat for all the little ones. The biggest treat however, by far, was the
surprise appearance of my son Damien, who showed up from sunny Queensland, rendering
me speechless for a few moments. With my eyes stinging with tears, I thought my
legs would give way as I went to him, hugging him so tightly, we could barely
breathe. I miss him so much and his unexpected visit seems to have been a
carefully guarded secret within my own clan. As I prepared for Christmas
morning, knowing all my babies would all be present was a priceless gift, and I
couldn’t help smiling as we stuffed stockings well past midnight in readiness
for an early start. Despite the fact my youngest baby is 19, they still get a
childish buzz out of their Santa stockings, which is now carried onto their own
children (without relinquishing their own!). Continuing with family traditions Christmas
breakfast was a feast shared with special friends, who 
It was then time
to pack and make our way to the van. Our place of rest and relaxation
(interspersed with a few housekeeping jobs here and there). It had taken some
convincing to get Daryl here for only one night, but he did and it was a good
idea.
Sitting here now,
I am part way through my drink, the air is slightly cooler and the families
around me are filling the air with the fragrance of camp food, namely sausages
on the barbeque. The magpies are attentive in the hope of an easy feed, while I
can hear the hammering of pegs into the ground where the newest arrivals set up
their campsites. Despite the third year of drought, the parks ground is relatively
easy to hammer into, and we also spent a short time getting our outdoor
flooring and gazebo in place earlier today, providing us shelter but also privacy
and protection from the westerly winds, known to rise up and batter sites at its
will.
I will see the New
Year in from here and will be joined by Daryl, some friends and anyone else who
chooses to come up. It will be a causal event, with a roast on the Weber,
drinks and a game or two of cards. I expect we will see the New Year fireworks from
the shores of Red Bluff and will ignore the crowds who will gather at Lakes
Entrance. This is my kind of party, with as little fuss and fanfare as possible
in the company of good friends and family. If you’re wondering who looks after
the farm while we do all this relaxing, despair not, the animals are well
tendered to with our trusty farm-sitter employed to watch over the ever-browning
grass, the flock of hens, their protector alpacas and our small herd of cows
with their young calves, in our absence. At last count we had 15 young babies
running around, kicking up a lot of dust, so before we left the morass was
opened and they all hoofed it down the paddock to feed on the green grass
amongst the gum trees that will provide them with ample shelter in the upcoming
days of heat. Temperatures forecast in the low 40’s are becoming more common
and with bushfires already burning across thousands of hectares of Australia we
are always mindful of the risks during the summer season. This year our fire
season started early, interstate, with a ferocity we have not experienced for
some years. For now, we are fine but vigilant.
The opportunity to
take a break also gives a chance to put the paint brushes down and leave the
chaos of house renovations for a time. They are coming along with the new
kitchen now functional and I must say, looking fabulous, with our red gum
bench tops and new oven. The laundry has also had a makeover and is not only
more pleasing to the eye, it is far more functional. Never a fan of painting, I
am enduring the process and grateful for every moment of assistance from family
and friends. The process, like many major life events, has been the catalyst of
a few flared tempers and fiery exchanges between Daryl and I in recent weeks fuelled
by the end of the year fatigue and my resignation from my job, I am pleased to say
we have made it through relatively unscathed. Leaving my former employer of
three years was another major decision but I have no doubt it was a good choice
given the instant relief of tension from my body and mind once I said a final
farewell. Blessed to have secured another job I am excited about a different
future.
With a new decade
knocking on our figurative door, I am hopeful 2020 will bring opportunities for
change, challenge and contemplation. I turn 50 next year and while this is not a
significant event for some – it is for me.
Whatever 2020
means for you I hope it is just perfect.
Until next time,
N
