April 14. Day 105. Bowled over

To say I am not very sporting would be like saying Usain Bolt is quite a good runner. Frankly, if there was a gold medal for slow and uncoordinated I would be on that medal podium. This made choosing a sport at school a challenge but rather generously the school included offerings such as ten pin bowling and ice skating for those who find concepts such as catch and throw just a bit tricky.So I signed up for bowling most terms and despite this I never actually progressed past the level of completely useless. But it was fun. It is still fun and best of all when you have children you are able to request the bumpers thus eliminating the gutter ball. Now that I think if it, bumpers at 10 pin bowling might actually be the very best thing about being a mother (ok, I lie - but only a bit).Anyway, it's family games night and we are at 10 pin bowling. I'm still useless and shoes are still ugly. But really a sport that allows you to eat hot chips and drink beer while you play, what can be better than that?

April 13. Day 104. Best foot forward

The self help manuals would have us believe that pampering yourself is good for you (at least I believe that's what they say because I have never actually helped myself to a self help manual).
Perhaps if I'd read the books and not relied on the Who Weekly condensed version gleaned in the hairdressers or doctors surgery I might be a bit better at remembering to attend to all the bits and pieces we females are meant to attend to.
Anyway, from time to time I do indulge in a pedicure. I find the whole thing quite surreal. It is really a very intimate procedure to have someone fiddle with your feet, scrubbing, massaging and taking what appears to be a cheese grater to your heels.
It tickles and I giggle. Conversation with the technician/beautician/therapist (take your choice, I have no idea) is almost always out of the question as very few speak English. We all get by with a series of smiles and hand gestures. This works just fine.
I love the feeling of having my feet massaged. I love coming out with brightly coloured toes. I promise myself I will do it more often and then I don't. There's probably a book written about why women like myself deny ourselves this little luxury. I will probably never read it.

April 12. Day 103. The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

It was December 2004. I was in a jet in a holding pattern over London waiting to land. It was bleak, horrible London day raining and obviously cold.
As we circled high above the city I could clearly see the city's famous landmarks through the hideous London drizzle but I was in no mood for sight seeing. On my lap was my then six-year-old son passed out after having suffered a seizure half an hour earlier. Later he was diagnosed as having epilepsy but the first terrifying evidence was on that flight.
It seemed like forever before the flight arrived at the front of the queue at Heathrow and we were allowed to land and were greeted by an ambulance waiting on the ground. Through tears, I was screaming "just land this f***ing thing" to myself.
Bizarrely, one of my clearest memories of that wait was that the whole time a song from the musical Annie was playing in my head:

"The Sun will come out tomorrow so you gotta hang on till tomorrow, come what may. 

Tomorrow, tomorrow I love ya tomorrow. You're always a day away."

I'm pretty sure I'd never even seen Annie on stage at that point but now that song always takes me back to that very, very frightening moment. It was a song of hope that things would get better.
Like Annie, that story does have an happy ending. Eight years later and it appears Mr O may have outgrown his epilepsy and is currently being weaned off medication, touch wood, fingers crossed and all that.
And perhaps because of that I can now see Annie on stage without breaking out in a nervous sweat or feeling like vomiting.
So it is that Mr O and I were in the opening night audience of Annie in Brisbane tonight dressed, as the invitation demanded, in glamorous attire with a splash of red.
Those who don't think you can work with children and animals really should see Annie. It's a delight. And because we live in beautiful Brisbane there is every chance that the sun will, indeed, come out tomorrow. It's just that it's not always easy to believe that.

April 11. Day 102. There's always one

There's always one. One who is braver or stupider than the rest.
Today we have to head home after a lovely Coast break but there was time for just one last walk on the beach. The wind was howling and the whole scene rather reflected my mood at having to go back to the real world. The beach, which for much of the stay has resembled Grand Central Station in the mornings, was almost deserted this morning but was eerily beautiful.
But even before the sun had risen this man decided to go in for a dip. He lasted but a few seconds and this is him retreating.

April 10. Day 101. Building sand castles

There was empire building a plenty on the beach this morning.
Everywhere you looked families were constructing forts, castles and moats. Whole towns and villages were being created by many eager little hands.
And then the tide changed. Some let the approaching enemy of the sea do its business. Some built up a levy bank and tried to hold their position. Some took great glee in getting in first and jumping on their creations.
It was a great spectacle to watch and proof once again that you don't need a screen to have a good time (although it often helps)!
Of course I will be discovering sand in just about every body cavity for some time yet.

April 9. Day 100. She sells sea shells

I have totally failed as a parent. Again.
When I walk along the beach in the morning on holidays I like to collect shells.
On one of the ventures I returned with a mollusk shell which had opened but both sides were attached to each other.
My son, AGED 14, says "hey that looks like the sort of thing some small sea creature might have lived in".
What? On all his time on earth I have never told him what a shell is?  And he's never asked?
Good grief. Anyway, I have no idea what I will do with my shell collection once the holiday ends but for now they make a great addition to the coffee table.

April 8. Day 99. You're dumped

You're dumped, possibly one of the least attractive phrases in the English language.

Whether it's a relationship or at the beach, you do not want to be the one being dumped. It's worse when you don't see it coming.

From the balcony of our unit, the sea looked very mild today. Up close it was still packing quite a punch.

But on such a beautiful beach day it was hard to resist. Mr O enjoyed a riding quite a few waves into the shore. Without the protection of a board, Grandpa Simon found the going a bit tougher. The photo below was taken just before he was knocked from his feet at almost the precise moment he realised he was still wearing his hearing aids and probably shouldn't have been. Fortunately both Grandpa and the hearing aids survived the experience no worse for wear.