Wednesday, 12 January 2011

Springbrook national park up in the hinterlands

Not much has been happening but I fancy a blog.

Poor ol’ Vivian has what we think is a broken rib. So she’s off work and outta action. The rain has been unremitting (except for a rare blast of sun this morning - cue me to jump out of bed and leg it to the pool before the rain returned!). It’s probably making world news - the weather. The floods are not that far north of here, so there’s that lingering sense of natural-disaster-fatigue among everyone really. I was supposed to be going to a water-park with a chap from CS today, but alas! He is flooded in, in Brisbane. An irony that Simon delighted in pointing out to me. I must be losing my English wit, because it hadn’t occurred to me until that message, how mocking an excuse the poor weather was for cancelling our Wet’n’Wild date! The ultimate paradox: 'I can't come to the water park, I’m afraid, it's raining'.

I jest. Tis’ the automatic state that all brits revert to in a state of crisis. I may quip about the ridiculous Queensland summer I seem to have arrived in, but, in all seriousness, it’s pretty bad. So if you are feeling generous, do donate to the appeal.

The Kings Speech
So anyway, the weekend was pretty quiet - although - quite does not equate to peaceful! Friday night I made Viv and Paul watch Hedwig. (I think they liked it!). Woke Saturday and just pottered, then went to Auntie Val and Uncle Reg’s for his infamous lemonade scones (delicious! Totally made up for the shit scones we had at Mt Tambourine!). Then we went to the pictures, just the 3 of us - v romantic! To see The Kings Speech. Loved it! We all did! Stopped on the way home to get gourmet pizza. Had to wait 20 mins…. I suggested we play a game to pass the time, but realized (out loud), that the only games I know are drinking ones. At which point Paul immediately vacated the vehicle only to reappear seconds later with a 6 pack (and after being shoved out the car a second time) A midori and lemonade for Viv! (Si, I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, you’re gunna love Paul).

That evening, dunno if I was hormonal, or just tired, or what, but I got upset about a whole heap a stuff that I don’t think needs airing in a blog. What’s important is it is sorted now. I guess it was always bound to happen. Between planning this trip and actually coming out here, I fell hopelessly in love (*puke*), and that was always going to put a different spin on things. Vivien was fantastic. She let me cry, she hugged me, she listened to me repeat myself a billion times, she made me tea first of all, then upon my realising it was gunna take a while, I requested the wine she’d offered first time round; the wine was too peppery, so she opened other wine. She gave me good advice which I followed, and subsequently after a long talk with the lover in question - I felt much better. Only slept for about 4 hours however as had to get up early for my Bushwalk with a Couchsurfer named Ben!

Ben, me and Sarah up in the Hinterlands
It poured down all day in the Hinterlands, and it was bloody fantastic. Ben collected me at 10am, along with his friend Sarah (who I suspect, although is taken, has, or maybe had, some kind of thing with Ben). Anyway, despite this chemistry, I felt completely included and could be myself right from the off. The walk was phenomenal. The falls were like nothing I have ever seen before. We swam in the less aggressive pools. We got leeches. We ate a packed lunch. We found a giant snail, and all the while a constant, effortless conversation streamed, from sex education, to personal philosophies, parenting, to travel plans, Job prospects to thrill seeking adventures. All in all, an action packed day, with awesome company.

Purlingbrook falls

It was surprisingly cold up in the mountains, so we stopped for fudge and hot chocolate. Delish.

Ben dropped me home, and I ate the fattest roast ever. Paul, like Pete, likes to double-meat. Chicken AND lamb. A great combo. Viv did cauliflower cheese, pumpkin, roast tatties, veggies, stuffing, the works. First roast in months, and it did not disappoint!

V big snail.

I guess I must have been emotionally and physically exhausted; cus I slept in on Monday til about midday, with mojo snuggled next to me (first time she’s done this - isn’t it funny how dogs just seem to know when you’re down?). Viv was back to work and so was Paul, so not much to get up for and no plans. However, at about the time me and mojo got up, Viv got a lift home from work with a colleague because she’d had an accident involving a door and had seemingly fractured a rib! For most people, sitting and watching movies all day is heaven, but not poor Viv, who suffers the same all encompassing house-proudness that Mum does. So, understanding this condition, if not fully empathising with it, I tried my best to be helpful and keep things clean and tidy!

Um Bongo skirt. Caught the Sun a bit!
In the afternoon, Elliot took me to the Op Shop. This is essentially a warehouse of second hand vintage clothes and furniture. I was in heaven. I could have spent HOURS in there, but after the first one, I realized Ell was probably ready to leave. I was ok with this, as I had already found an amazing green knee length skirt, and my star item, a beautiful, weird, simple cotton mini skirt, made from the most cool material. It looks like a carton of Um Bongo. Complete with lion, monkey, giraffe, hippo. AND the lining is made from same material, different print, with weird kiddy-style dog’s n stuff. The kinda skirt dreams are made of. I also found matching green tops! Think Ell was slightly perturbed by my response to this outing: somewhere between a crack-whore getting a long awaited hit, and a child being told its ice-cream for dinner. He can’t have been too fussed though, cus today, whilst we were out to get Viv’s X-ray results, he took me to another one. And this time I got the most amazing blue, red and white striped braces (that were in the fancydress section for Christ’s sake! Are they mad?!), a beautiful cashmere red and white jumper and a nautical neck scarf. RESULT! 
Reminder of Um Bongo

Elliot bought along his “not my girlfriend” girlfriend. Jarney, or Jahnny, I dunno how it’s spelt, but it’s pronounced exactly how when Baby calls for Johnny right at the end of Dirty Dancing when he’s about to leave in the car.  Anyway, she is 14. Think of all the things you think of when someone says '14 year old gir', and then erase every single one of those assumptions. It’s made me realise what people were always banging on about when I was that age and younger. Everyone was always so astonished about how I didn’t seem my age - and I never thought that could really be possible. Looking back I was sure I seemed 14. But Christ, if I was anything like this girl, then I LITERALLY (and you know I don’t like to use that word lightly) was not 14. She’s a singer/songwriter, she doesn’t go to school, she’s funny and smart and totally confident (I was none of those things, but that’s not the point). I cannot believe she’s ten years younger than me. So I say, to hell with the Law. Good on Ell, he’s pulled a cracker.

On an unrelated note, I just watched The Hangover. Why did no one make me watch this film earlier? I did a little wee!

Until next time faithful followers. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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