It's been a while
Luckily my New Years resolution wasn't to write more frequently. Many months, it's been friends, since I last wrote. How to account for the time? Some of that was spent scribing Christmas letters to many of you that we have yet to send; I wouldn't recommend holding your breath but trust me they are on their way. Some of the time was spent embroiled in daily living, our wash-rinse-repeat cycle of school days and extra-curricular activities. A good chunk of time was stressing about having to move house when our previous landlords decided to sell our house (though they did offer us the first offer to buy it, for a cool $1.4 million. We politely declined). We then spent a few weeks in the tumult of moving house - fortunately we have found a house just around the corner from our previous one, still in our sleepy, seaside Stockton community which we grow to love more the longer we spend here. Fortunately, we again had family step in to help pack, haul, clean and unpack. It reminded me of packing our Yukon home and how we relied so heavily on our family stepping in to pick up our copious amounts of slack.
Remind me to never move somewhere that I don't have family nearby.
The kids joined Nippers during the summer. It's the kids program that Surf Life Saving Australia runs.
The view from the kitchen window in our new house (left) and how you move your LEGO builds when you're just moving round the corner (right).
Since last writing we had our Christmas/summer holidays. Six weeks off school of which one week was grudgingly spent moving. We unpacked the bare essentials before kicking up our heels in celebrating Chrissie with the extended fam jam. A quick repack and we dashed away for a week lounging on Feisty over New Years, then home for a day (unpack-wash-grocery shop-repack) before heading south for an extended canoe trip with friends.
Christmas 2021 - old traditions; lawn bowls and boating with my Dad's fleet of craft.
New Years trip on Feisty.
Canoeing on the Murray River. It was sooo hot.
The first school term of 2022 found us the most settled we've been since arriving in Australia. We all have regular school occupations, the kids continue at the local school a mere two blocks away. Shea and I at different, but equally fabulous, private Grammar schools. For the first time in his life, Shea is a Geography teacher and loving that he knows what he is talking about. His main gripe in life right now is bafflement that some of his students don't love Geography. If you were to ask our Little Laide what her main gripe in life is she'd probably answer that she's yet to find a forever friend here. She continues to grow her handball skills at school and to find her voice in standing up to schoolmates who push her buttons (one day she came home to retell a story of a peer who said something that made her "just see fire!" A surprising spiciness for our easy going eldest). If you were to ask Lox what his current main life-gripe was, he'd probably point his finger straight at his sister. He, of all of us, bears the brunt of her spontaneous spice. On the whole they're great mates, especially when working on a creative, imaginative project together. Sometimes, though, they clash like titans; I don't know how many times I've cried out to one of them, "if the first word out of your mouth is your siblings name, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!"
It has no impact.
If you were to ask me what my main gripe in life is right now, I'd have to turn to the grey clouds of cancer that always sit on my horizon. Sometimes they're far off in the distance and I can believe that the forecast is clear and sunny. At other times, they move closer and loom large to remind me that they will always be part of my story. And like the weather, it is hard to predict how it will pan out. These last few months found those clouds building in banks of storm that had me cowering. Another breast cancer was detected and had to be removed. Along with a lymph node from my previously attacked underarm. The uncertainty of the outcomes and being thrust up against my own mortality again, really threw me into a tumult. A reminder that those storm clouds won't leave my horizon. The outcome has been the best we could hope for. The cancer was very early stages, so early in fact that they don't consider it a cancer-proper, and there was no sign of it in my lymphs. My healing has gone well and I've been cleared to swim again. To continue the weather metaphor, it feels like I roll through conditions; sometimes the sailing is balmy and joyful and I accept the unexpected. At other times I feel like I inhabit a faulty, sinking ship and despair of how this will all end. Like the weather, those moments pass and I remind myself that just being here and sharing space and adventures with my three incredible crewmates means that life is really pretty swell.
We are now a few weeks away from the end of Term 2 at school and planning our mid-year holidays. During our last school holidays we immersed ourselves in adventures with family. The first week was spent sojourning on Lake Macquarie, just an hour south of us, with my parents on their Larinda. Captain Dad and I were only mildly disappointed when our crewmates jumped ship and demonstrated a preference for the more comfortable (and faster) boat of their grandparents. Following our sailing trip, we collected Auntie Skye from the airport then came home for a quick turnabout (unpack-wash-grocery shop-repack) before heading north for a week of coastal hiking and camping. We met up with my cousin and her partner and took turns shuttling cars and hiking. The kids again demonstrated a preference for the more comfortable (and faster) option of traveling between camps via car as opposed to hiking. It was no surprise to canny Auntie Skye, who had questioned our original plan of marching the kids through 15km days of hiking along beaches. As we often quote her, Skye always recommends hitting the "easy button." For those who know him well, Mountain Dad doesn't seem to be able to locate that easy button, thus he regularly leads us into adventures and challenges we wouldn't otherwise have experienced. I hear him now, just arriving home from collecting two baby guinea pigs. Does he have a plan to re-home these critters if we upticks and move? Of course not. But the short adventure of owning pet guinea pigs will, I'm sure, be fabulous fun. I shall away to meet them.
Until next time, friends. I'm hopeful it won't be so long.
Feisty on the left, Larinda (the boat my Dad built) on the right.
Comments