Nurturing The Mother

August 25, 2014 by Vicki

I’ve been a little AWOL in the past couple of weeks. Man flu will do that to you. Especially if it sweeps through the entire family. Twice.

If I sound moany that is part of the symptoms. It’s not me, it’s the man flu.

Read the rest of this entry »

Oh, The Irony.

August 19, 2014 by Vicki
*This is a sponsored post for Nurofen

I have reported mostly on the glamorous going ons from our Port Douglas vacay recently but the inside story was far from it.

Whilst away, I was prepared for the Vicklets routine to be out of whack, for there to be some night time wakings. That’s the way kids roll when away from their homely comforts. It’s all a part of their ‘don’t let the parentals have a holiday’ conquest. With that said, Little Vick is a traveling gem. We broke him in to be an adaptable traveler young and he has stayed solid. Sleeps like a bear with a cold once he’s gone down no matter where he is. His brother is not so obliging. Not even at home.

Two nights in and Baby Vick’s piercing cries rung out in the darkness and although I had expected it, I could hear the sense of urgency in his call this time. I leaped to my feet before Mr Vick even had a chance to stir (he had been assigned night duty). I could sense the fear in my baby’s call. photo 2(1) I swept him up and instantly felt the heat radiating from his little body. His brow was sweaty and he looked flushed. He was distressed and unsettled by a fever ravaging his body. This quickest comfort I could offer was my breast – the very thing I had been stubbornly refusing for the passed two weeks at nights. However that night I did not question it because I knew my baby needed my milk’s healing and comforting properties and bingo! It eased his tears and gradually lulled him back to sleep.

Time and time again that night his cries rung out. The fever did not relent. I sung to him and I dabbed him down with a cold face washer and I was sure glad I had put that bottle of Nurofen in my hand bag for “just in case”. Those unexpected, in case moments are almost always night time affairs when chemists have long gone home.

Kiddy illness is always crapola and terrible but when you’re away somewhere foreign it makes you feel just that bit more vulnerable. My mind raced with a possible diagnosis: could this be something viral? Teething symptoms? An earache? Was he bitten by some tropical, disease infected insect? The questions didn’t let up after four further nights of fever dancing through Baby Vick.

I was getting up a lot each night. I was miffed at the irony of it all given this was supposed to be my ‘holiday’ but I had little choice and at these times nothing other than restoring your kids health matters does it? I was curious to know how much of a mummy warrior I was so I counted just how many times I was getting up and attending to my sickly Vicklet. In that one evening I got up seven times. SEVEN. I think my weariness was justified.

The daytime seemed to bring reprieve from the fevers. Again, the irony. Although Baby Vick was becoming dehydrated and consequently constipated. Little comforts helped: cuddles, breastfeeds and playing in the sandy waters of the beach.

I plodded on through the days mostly in robot function laced up with fatigue and no chance of a Nanna nap to repair or recoup. We kept up with our itinerary of Daintree road trips, snorkeling, and attending wedding celebrations. We were there for less than a week, there was always a sense of keeping on going to utilise the limited time.

I loved our trip but it was grueling for me. A marathon of endurance. My biggest challenge was acting like a normal happy human during the daylight hours. My auto response was to grump, snap, and snarl because the ordinary seemed overwhelming on a sniff of sleep. I went to thaw out in the sun and have my soul fill up with life’s goodies but instead I became the mother whose work did not stop once the Vicklets lay down to sleep, in fact the hard yakka would just kick off.  Our restoring family vacay wasn’t quite going as it played out in my head and it was certainly different on the inside to how it might have appeared on the outer. This motherhood game, hey?

The first night home, the fevers stopped. Baby Vick pooped. He was himself, happy again.

The irony, I tell ya. THE IRONY.

How do your kids cope when away from home?

A Winter of Mothering

August 12, 2014 by Vicki

Croupe. Strider. Coughs. Man Flu. Random spews. Night terrors. Conjunctivitis. A reaction to an immunisation. This has been our winter.

Baby Vicki now one, has still demanded the breast as frequently as he ever did. Relations with Mr Vick have been tested. Friends, away with their busy lives. This winter has been hard yakka. It’s grabbed hold of me and thrown me about testing my every inch.

Yet two boys, who can’t be held down on account of colder mornings or spits of rain, who are learning to live and co-existence with one another and who squabble, and laugh and love and enlighten me all the way. They deliver the challenges and the beauty.

This has been our winter.

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Tanya & Josh's Wedding 785

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So how goes your winter story?

I’m linking up with Milk Please Mum who has some way spunky snaps for her winter, a year of mothering link up.

I’m also hanging out at Twinkle in the Eye and My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday :)

Port D Dishes Up The Natural Stunners

August 11, 2014 by Vicki

The best thing about Port Douglas is all the nature. Oh boy-o is there so much nature!

I mean, there’s stacks of la-di-da resorts about the place and to-die-for eateries but to be sure you go for the nature (and climate but I won’t let my wintery bitterness bang on about that today).

It’s the type of place you can perch yourself somewhere and just watch nature at it’s best. Kinda like here:

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OR if you’re like me, you will be totally wrapped that Port D is the launching pad for TWO World Heritage Areas. Yeah, it’s pretty greedy like that but it’s the jackpot for those who like world class, natural stunners.

When you think of iconic Aussie landmarks The Great Barrier Reef and The Daintree Rainforest are the big stars, that’s why I felt totally honored to be able to experience them during our recent vacay.

Traveling to the Daintree was my favorite day of all on our break. There was just something about the dense forest and rich, green foliage that captured my attention and lodged itself into my heart. It was a natural pick me up.

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{The Walu Wugirrigia look out}

We drove to Cape Tribulation which marks the most northern spot that we’ve traveled to in Queensland. It’s a spectacular spot where the forest meets the sandy shores of the ocean. The best thing about the Cape is that it isn’t over populated with rainforest stomping tourists. When we landed on the beach it was actually deserted.

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It is a piece of paradise, lets be honest.

1-DSC_0127 It was an open, free space for us all to explore and there was no better play ground for two keen Vicklets. Mr Vick swam, despite the Crocodile signs (not their hungry season), I paddled and toyed with the idea of actually jumping in but remained happy with just wet calves. The kids were extremely busy doing ya know, kiddy business.

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Once I would have taken the opportunity to lay on a beach towel and read but instead I found myself spending time with my boys. I playfully drew in the sand using my finger as my pen. Little Vick joined in and we ended up having a number writing lesson. We giggled and enjoyed the warm sun on our backs.

We ate a simple picnic lunch which I’d made at our villa. I was glad for it as there was no takeaway stores bordering the sand. The simplicity of the Cape is undoubtedly it’s beauty.

That’s the way it rolls up north really. The reefs beauty is just simply natures ahhh-mazing creation. I could constantly be found with my mouth hanging wide open as a real life episode of the Octonauts unfolded in front of my eyes. A glass bottom boat was the perfect way to educate the Vicklets about what fascinating creatures and beautiful coral existed below the water.

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We saw several turtles. They BLEW ME AWAY! A highlight, no doubt.

We traveled out to Low Island which is apart of the Low Isles area, on one of the many day long boat trips available from Port D. They’re pricey but what would a trip be to Port D be without capturing a glimpse of the world famous reef?

You can go to the Low Isles or head further east to the outer reef which I hear the coral there is even more stunning but we didn’t fancy having an entire day on a boat (no island to land on) with two little people wanting to launch themselves in the drink all day long. Low Island was just perfect for littlies. They happily played in the sand whilst Mr Vick and I took turns snorkeling up all the greatness of the reef. I’m not a confident snorkeler but amazingly you only had to walk 5 meters into the water before you were on the reef!

1-DSC_0557If you weren’t snorkeling you could enjoy some exploring on the island where a lighthouse is still in operation but really there was white sand, clear blue waters and sunshine showering down, who wouldn’t be happy with just being?

Port D really did please me with it’s ‘stuff to do’ list. In fact, I wouldn’t mind experiencing the Port D magic all over again some day. It’s been two weeks already since we were there and I’m in mourning for my summery dresses and mood already. So, the longing begins….

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 Where do you or would you like to take a summery vacay in winter?

Have you visited the daintree or reef?

Where For Art Thou Cassowary?

August 8, 2014 by Vicki

During our Port Douglas vacay Little Vick educated me on “Cassowaries”. To be frank, I thought the kid was drunk on imagination and spinning one of his biggest porkies ever. The yarn had full details about their capabilities including an instinct for attacking and dishing out a seriously dangerous, karate chopping kick. I’d never heard of birds thinking they were Bruce Lee so I just nodded and allowed him to think he knew all about this mysterious made up bird, but the facts kept coming. Turns out this kid is a walking Wikipedia and sounding like the Steve Irwin of Cassowaries!

Kinder has really taught him to free up his imagination or as I see it, embellish things. I assumed this was the case here. I tried to let him know that I knew this was all a bit of a pumped up sketch only for Mr Vick to deliver some sobering news.

Turns out I’m the dill because I was being educated correctly by my 3 year old. Mummies don’t know everything.

Well, it’s news to me.

The exciting news for my little Cassowary expert was that we were not too far from the local hang out of these glorified Emu’s. On occasion they can be spotted in The Daintree Rainforest which neighbors Port Douglas which we just happened to be visiting the very next day.

I was warned in the event that we did come face to face with a Cassowary I should keep my distance to avoid a bird kick to the face. This kid can put his parent on way too well.

We set off the next day and the word on some little lips was Cassowaries. Cassowaries. Cassowaries.

I was thinking “just let there be a parade of flippin’ high kicking Cassowaries pleeease”.

The feverish excitement only doubled every time we saw one of these:

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{Excuse the iPhone dodgy smodgy quality}

No matter how many times I explained that a Cassowary sign didn’t automatically mean we’d see one, Little Vick would scream “Cassowarrrrry Siiiiign!!” every. single. time.  Of course there was one every km and a half from Port Douglas all the way to Cape Tribulation which is a good 70km’s or so.

If I didn’t know what the word Cassowary was before, I sure ruddy did now.

When we arrived at Cape Tribulation I wanted to get my lazy on and lounge about. Little Vick was on high alert for any fierce Cassowaries who might come running across the beach right for us. I tried to convince him that indeed we had discovered a Cassowary when this trotted up to us and tried to nick our lunch. The kid wasn’t falling for nuthin’. This was apparently just some kind of local foul. Not the real dealo, just a fake.

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After some freckling up we wanted to get deeper in to the hinterland of the Cassowary. The kid wasn’t going to let us off the hook so we went to The Daintree Discovery Centre which has a pretty wicked bridge across the top of the forest and views of the canopy. Super great for the oldies and the kiddies AND they have a Cassowary webcam! Little Vick came alight when he heard, not just one, but TWO wild Cassowaries had been spotted right there that very morning. Cassowary searching radar eyes switched on and did not relent the entire visit! Much to his disappointment all we could see was a whole lot of trees. Who cares if we were in the oldest rainforest in the world?!?

1-DSC_01761-DSC_0166{The Cassowary catchers team}

I had no idea what he’d actually do if one materialised out of the bushes anyway. He’d probably lose his shite considering he normally has a adamant fear of birds.

Can you guess how this all ended considering these birds are extremely rare? Yep, a whole day of serenading Cassowaries ended in disappointment. Not even a trip down some dodgy, beaten up track into the forest came up with the feathery goods. Little Vick expressed his dismay: “What’s gotten into these birds? Where are they? Why would they want to hide?”

I wonder.

With one little broken heart we felt we had little option to book a visit to the Wildlife Habitat zoo for the very next day to meet with the highly anticipated Bruce Lee of birds, where one happy Little Vick was made.

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I missed it because I was gallivanting on a yacht with a champagne glass in hand but he came home with some tall tale about the bite on his arm that I was fairly certain was from a hungry mozzie, was actually a pecking wound from a Cassowary!

Now there was the MASSIVE porky!

Do you know what a Cassowary is?? Am I the only dummy?

Wordless Wednesday: Cruisin’

August 5, 2014 by Vicki

Our motivation to vacay in Port Douglas last week was to celebrate my cousins nuptials. With that came a nice little girls only celebration involving some prawns, a boat, a sunset and a hefty amount of champagne. It was fair to say I forgot I was a mother for a couple of hours. Oh how I loved it.

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Not a bad way to enjoy all that is Port Douglas I’d say.

Have you ever celebrated in nautical style?

Home! So Long Port Paradise!

August 5, 2014 by Vicki

I don’t know about your week, but I suspect that last one might have been the speediest week in the history of living. Time seems to play tricks when it gets a whiff that you’re on vacay. How bloody rude.

We have been forced to return home from paradise, AKA Port Douglas. It was always going to hurt.

I was reminded of the vast differences between home and paradise the moment I stepped off the plane with the Antarctic spews of icy wind attempting to turn us into icicles mid step. There was a full 20 degrees difference from one end of the flight to the other.

I will report fully on the paradise vacay over the next week or so and don’t worry, I only have 925 happy snaps to share with y’all but for now I just wanted to give you a wave to say I’m back on board with a happy freckle or two extra.

OK. I can’t help but share a little.

Port Douglas is really the loveliest of lovelies. It’s very pleasing.

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It has climate and nature on it’s side. Winter in Port Douglas knows not the nasties of the south. It’s near perfect-ness makes you completely (and happily) oblivious to the crapola elements which make everyone turn into unhappy sods for about 3 months of the year.

We marveled at the two great World Heritage Areas that surround the resort infested town. The Great Barrier Reef and The Daintree are all a little trip away. What true treasures to see and a blessing to experience with the Vickletz.

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Port Douglas is a place where palm trees naturally border the notorious 4 Mile Beach.

1-DSC_0388It’s a place where flip flops rule, forget moccasins. It’s where you contemplate putting the air conditioner on, not the heater. You pull a sheet over yourself at night not a sheet + Eskimo like doona + fluffy woolen blanket x 2. Prawns are so everyday and local seafood is aplenty, there’s not a cup of pumpkin soup in site.

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Mango Daiquiri’s are sipped not hot cups of tea and weddings are celebrated outside without threat of shitty weather.

1-DSC_0510{My cousins wedding which we celebrated under two huge Fig trees. THE. MOST. ROMANTIC. THING. EVER}

I was taken within a moment by all that Port Douglas has to offer. There’s oodles to do.

Of course being home brings comforts and means cravings for familiarity are met. The Vickletz, although happy travelers, are settled and content to have made it home and to be reunited with their much loved play things.

So for now, for me, some washing. And some more. And some more. Routine will settle in again and wanderlust for the next adventure will no doubt slowly rise, but for now, today, it’s nice to be just at home.

Have you visited Port Douglas? Fan?

Traveling With The Hillbillly Parentals

July 28, 2014 by Vicki

luggageWhilst you’re reading this I am probably on my way to the airport or battling through the crowds of the airport or somewhere in transit towards my slice of paradise with my gaggle of dependents.

I’ve had a few traveling companions in my time but my least favorites would have to be my parentals.

Guess who’s tagging along?

If looking after two small children traveling isn’t stressy enough feeling like I’m responsible for four is nothing short of meltdown city. My Vickletz and my parentals, who are probably about on par in terms of helpfulness in the travel scenario will be both under my wing. Don’t get me wrong my parents are lovely, cute I’ve even been told but they’re in their 70′s and they’re bordering on being seriously hillbilly. They are farming types who for the majority of their life have been tied to the land and it’s many responsibilities. They’ve had to say no so many times as they were in the trenches of hard work and permanent residents in struggle town. There was never the time or money for long distance trips and there certainly has been no big retirement, European trip or bussing about New Zealand or anything exciting like that. My parents have barely even left the state. Of course they’ve popped over the Murry River a couple of times to mosey about and say they’ve been to NSW but does that really count? I think not. Needless to say, this will be Dad’s virgin voyage on a plane. He has lived 72 years in this existence and he has seen and lived many things but not the exhilaration of flying. That blows my aeroplane loving mind.

Whilst we always had family holidays growing up they generally were local only being an hour or two down the road. Sure, they can pull a caravan but otherwise they’re not terribly travel savvy. If it wasn’t for me booking and navigating this whole expedition they’d still be going to and fro on their rocking chairs back on the farm.  They’re cluey as anything when it comes to animals, growing crops of vegetables, harvesting hay and pickling anything but out in a fast passed scenario polluted with a crowd of people they are like a flock of dummy sheep. Easily spooked and easily scattered. Of course in these situations of rising (unnecessary) panic their automatic response is to bicker. Public bickering can be a hobby for them actually. There’s no shame in a few snappy words at your spouse for all surrounding to feel totally awks. That’s what 49 years of marriage does to you.

I tend to tolerate this public shower of cranky cranks for a limited time before I start narkin’ up myself to try and shut them right up. Unfortunately my good intentions usually resolve to just a whole lot of hushed curses with a tense crescendo before a veil of silence transcends us all. I usually also get a scolding from Mr Vick in there somewhere for getting involved and for letting my upbeat attitude spoil.  Of course he’s just putting himself in the firing line then. So it’s happy happy all round!

My Dad is the ultimate people watcher. Seriously we can leave him on a bench and shop up a storm for a good hour and he’d be happy just there taking notes on individuals. If we’re with him he will observe and commentate back at a volume just a few decibels off a shout which makes me wish my super power was the ability to become invisible quick fast. I will never forget the day I took him to the city and he witnessed his first raging drag queen who he gawked, chucked and pointed at like as if drag types are vision impaired and impartial to such rudeness. I had to look around and make sure no one was going to deck him.

Then’s there’s his ability to strike up a one sided conversation with some unknowing stranger which predictably will be about the marvels of flying or, and this is a well worn in favorite, “I wouldn’t mind a dollar for every person that went by here every day”.  It just wouldn’t be an outing without an awkward conversation with a stranger. I pity the poor person who will be seated next to him during our flight. Three and half hours next to someone who has little instinct for knowing when to shut the heck up would be quite grating I imagine.

Whilst I realise this this post has made my olds out to be nothing more than pain in the arse, weirdo types, they’re actually not. I’m just an argumentative daughter that somehow reverts back into a teenager in their presence. They have a sweet, innocent view of the world and believe in the goodness of all people. They are wonderful with our boys. My Dad is a magnet which draw in little Vickletz like salt to the sea.

In fact I can’t help but feel I need to treasure this trip with the hillbillies. I don’t know if it’s all the recent disasters that has tainted my disposition with sentimentality or not, but I know when you have parents in their 70′s you have to presume that this could very well be the first and last plane trip we all share together, bickering and stranger conversations and all.

As much eye rolling as they induce, I quite like their strange little quirks. One day I will miss them.

Have you traveled with your parents or is it a no go danger zone?

Today I’m linking up with Essentially Jess at #IBOT

(Luggage image source)

An Interview With The Husband: Mr Vick On The Blog!

July 25, 2014 by Vicki

I’d like to get in with the cool crowd so I’m tagging along (ie. copying) with this little writing idea which the great Kylie Purtell started. Then other cool cats like Renee at Mummy, Wife, Me and Em over at Have A Laugh On Me also went there and a whole gaggle of bloggy stars, so now it’s my go.

Drum roll please: Introducing Mr Vick is on the blog. Huzzah!

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Yep it’s the guy who will hate having his picture up right there. He’s talking to me on the blog. This post even.

I got my journo on and conducted an interview with Mr Vick last night. I was taking it very seriously with my Dictaphone (OK, it was my iPhone) and laptop at hand but admittedly it was after a very long day and Mr Vick was virtually zombie-fied with zany sense of humor intact. I guess what I’m trying to confess is it didn’t go as swimmingly as I’d hoped. In fact I’d say a DIVORCE is sounding fairly imminent!!!

Prepare to behold the most irritating interview ever.

What’s the best thing about being married to Vicki?

Mr Vick: Ahhhhhhhh….. can we pass and come back to that one?

Vicki: (giggles) really? OK

What’s the worst thing about being married to Vicki?

(Groans)  What a question…. (long pause) you said this wouldn’t take long and it wouldn’t be hard, (whining like a toddler) this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do all day (note: he had an assessment at uni today playing geek and examining cells). Can you give me a clue?

Vicki: What? A clue?

Mr Vick (eventually): When I ask you to sew a button on  and it sits on the pile for months and months until I do it myself

Vicki (laughs proudly before shifting gears): You better not just talk about me like I’m nothing more than a housewife. People will loath you.

Mr Vick (laughs): It’s all I could think of

What is Vicki’s most annoying habit?

Mr Vick (confidently): When you stick your finger in your ears and you scratch like you have a nervous twitch.

Vicki: Um… (giggles) OK. My ear gets itchy.

Mr Vick: I have told you about this. I’ve tried to get you to deal with it for a long time. (Checking) did you write that down?

Vicki: I’m recording you, yes.

What is Vicki’s most endearing habit?

(Mr Vick groans loudly)

Vicki (disapproving): This is like getting blood out of a stone

Mr Vick (sounding delirious): How can anyone married deal with these questions?

Vicki (perplexed): What?

Mr Vick: They’re too hard.

Vicki (irritated): Oh….. this is not good. COME ON! Just think of something you like.

Mr Vick: I like that you make me cookies.

Vicki (inner feminist gasps): What? (I made cookies for the first time yesterday in months)

Mr Vick: I guess that’s not really a habit is it? I don’t really like habits.

Vicki: Is there something that I do that you like? Something I do regularly?

Mr Vick: Not really

(Vicki has mouth gaping unaware if this guy is plain stupid or trying to stir the pot)

Mr Vick (relenting): OK. You’re kindhearted.

What do you admire about me?

Mr Vick: Um… (long pause)… um… (long pause)… um… I don’t know. Actually I admire your  extraordinary mothering skills.

What was the first thing that attracted me to you?

Your smile

What do you enjoy the most about being a Dad?

Mr Vick: The reaction from the boys when I get home at the end of the day

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What do you least enjoy about being a dad?

Mr Vick(with a weary demeanor): Getting up at night. Sleepless nights. Sleepless days. Never getting enough sleep.

Vicki: That answer came easily.

What was your favorite thing to do with Vicki pre-kids?

Mr Vick: Having sex.

Vicki: Is that it?

Mr Vick: Yep. It only had to be one thing right?

Vicki: I guess.

What is your most hated household chore?

Mr Vick: That I do myself?

Vicki: Yes

Mr Vicki: All of them. Cleaning the shower. Picking up the dog poo. Um.

Vicki: So that would be all of them then.

Mr Vicki: I don’t mind those two actually

Vicki: You’re contradicting yourself!

Mr Vick (changing his mind): I don’t like hanging the washing out. Lucky you do that. I’m grateful to you for doing that. (It dawns on him) Ahhh… (shit stirring glint in his eye) that’s my favorite thing about you!

Vicki (irritability rising): That’s your favorite thing about me entirely?

Mr Vick: Yes

Vicki (murderous thoughts growing): WHAT?

Mr Vicki: This is a good thing. (Celebrating) I had an epiphany!

Vicki (has epiphany): I have no idea why you’re married to me! You could get lots of people to do your washing for you.

Mr Vick: (Smirking) then I’d have to pay them!

Vicki (taking the bate): You could get a 94 year old to do it and you wouldn’t have to pay her!!  She’d probably pay you!!

Mr Vick: I like watching you do it. I would not enjoy watching a 94 year old do it.

Vicki: (unimpressed) This is weird.

What’s your favorite thing to cook?

Mr Vick: Um….(pause)….just putting ingredients together that are in the house.

(Vicki has bemused look on face and decides to move on)

What do you think annoys Vicki most about you?

Mr Vick (groans): Where to start…. um… the way I look.

Vicki: What?

Mr Vick: The way I look, the way I think…

Vicki: Can you be less generalised?

Mr Vick: OK. I think you think I’m fat.

Vicki: (Shocked – gasps). I don’t think you’re fat.

(Mr Vick smirks. Vicki is left confused if there is any truth in this)

What do you think I love about you?

Mr Vick: I don’t think you love anything about me.

Vicki: (Combusts) oh stop feeling sorry for yourself!

Mr Vick: I’m being honest

Vicki: STOP IT. DON’T BE RIDICULOUS.

Mr Vick: You’ve never told me anything you love about me

Vicki: DON’T BE RIDICULOUS!

Mr Vick: Give me a clue.

Vicki: (scoffs) This is ridiculous (she is unsure if this is all a send up but sure feels irritated)

Why do you think Vicki is lucky to be married to you?

Vicki (warning): Don’t have a poor me answer buster!

Mr Vick: I don’t think you’re lucky (laughs)

Vicki: This is WOEFUL. Just think about it.

Mr Vick (dramatic sulking) I think I’m a burden to you.

Vicki: Oh turn it up! Why do you think that?

Mr Vick: Because of the way you’re looking at me right now!

(Vicki looking ready to kill)

What do you think the secret to a happy marriage is?

Mr Vick: Sex. Lots of sex.

Vicki (rolls eyes): Anything else?

Mr Vick: Um. Talking about sex?

(Both laugh)

Mr Vick: Space. Lots of space.

Vicki: Sex AND space? How does that work? …. Ya know, don’t worry. This is over. End of interview. You can go into the other room now. Please. Like seriously, go.

And he wonders why sex is virtually a past time?

That right there peeps is a fine example of a husband winding up one wifey who has no idea, despite being a victim of it for nearly 13 years, that it’s even happening. I promise he’s not a clueless or sexist individual. He’s actually very charming and charismatic but they were on holidays at the time of the interview clearly.

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Have you ever asked your husband these questions? Does your husband tell you what you want to hear or does his toy with you?

What do you think makes a marriage work?

The Food Coma in Timboon!

July 21, 2014 by Vicki

Nostalgia, that was the theme of my Sunday just gone. Lucky I like being nostalgic.

Ya see, my Mumma turns 70 shortly and the extended fam bam gathered to eat a whole lotta food in honor of the food loving 70 year old herself. Eating is quite a hobby for my family. We all have the pot bellies to prove it.

Somewhere my mum had been wanting to get her eat on at is the Timboon Railway Shed Distillery.  A quaint restaurant nestled in the tree filled, rural township of Timboon, approximately 3 hours from Melbourne to the south west.

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I know Timboon well. I spent my childhood years there. It was the very place where I was educated and grew into an adult. I did lots of dreaming in Timboon. I sure got up to lots of no good there. I had a lot of firsts in Timboon. I developed life long friendships and at the risk of sounding elderly I had some of the best years of of my life, to date, in Timboon.

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Timboon still feels homely. It’s a fair indication that a place is apart of you when you swerve your car in anticipation for the craters pot holes in the road that were there a decade ago (….and still are). I went into reminiscing overload being in this little town on Sunday.

Timboon is a place generally occupied by people who know the land and work the dairy farm industry. It’s a casual kinda place. The Timboon Railway Shed Distillery however bought a whirl of excitement to this town who had nothing more than a tiny takeaway store that boasted a good bucket of chips with chicken salt. The buzz of the distillery has been felt far and wide drawing visitors headed to the close by 12 Apostles and those just out for a leisurely Sunday drive. What’s exciting about it is that it showcases a wide range of local produce. From pork, to cheese, to the infamous Timboon Fine Ice Cream – it’s virtually produced on the farms surrounding the township and I kinda like supporting that.

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Of course we weren’t there just to look at it all. Eating was on the agenda so eating we did. We were in food coma territory no doubt. Allow me to share some food porn:

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Looks alright yeah? THAT’S what the buzz is all about at the Timboon Railway Shed Distillery. Then there was this, compulsory ice cream:

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No joking about the compulsory thing. It comes with many meals on the menu and certainly no members from my family were knocking it back. The kids were happy dancing all day about it. I have one piece of advice for you – salted caramel, all the way.

Of course it isn’t all about the ice cream. There’s a bit of plonk on site too. That’s the way I remember it. As an underage teenager I guzzled sneaky, cheapo shots of plonk in the old deserted railway shed before it became the classy joint it is today and here I am 13 years on all grown up, with two kidlets dragging of me and sipping some way classy drops, legally and all. Quite the juxtaposition I’d say.

The whiskey is brewed right in front of you. It’s all there for your tasting delights. I personally loved their strawberry schnapps.

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My Mum, not even on the whiskey, smiled all day long. I don’t remember seeing her smile so much. I suppose I’d be in the same delighted state too if my husband and daughter (that would be moi) had organised a sneaky interstate trip to the tropics as a gift!

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So I departed Timboon with a full belly, delicious liquor on my tongue and full of happy images running through my head. On the long drive home I was full of “when I was younger” stories which Mr Vick dutifully listened to and nodded his head. I felt high on that slice of nostalgia.

I think I’ll always remember that smile on my Mums dial and another day of memories which were created for the bank in Timboon.

Do you ever visit your home town? Do you like a good session of reminiscing?

Today I’m linking up with Essentially Jess at #IBOT