Sunday as it should be.

We left the car at RnD’s on Saturday night so Wee J & I donned our trainers and walked off to get it at 8am before it got too hot and so that we could get to the Noosa Farmers Market pronto.

We stopped for take-away coffee from Zabé Espresso Bar then took the shortcut through the park that was so scary the night before.  Arriving at RnDs we could hear the kids squealing, we peeked through the gate and there were Daddy D, Mummy R and the two sproglets frolicking in the pool.  Not wishing to disturb their play but not wanting to be unsociable either we shouted over the fence our ‘Good Mornings’ and politely declined the invitation to join the pool party.

Back to the ‘Lazy Days’ we collected the other two and headed off to the market W had been reading up about.  It did’t disappoint.  There were organic food vendors, flowers, plants, crafts and plenty of creative foodstuff for sale.  The Sunflower Hotel Vegan Smoothie Bar had been recommended by the Bride so we had to try it.  The list of concoctions was incredible we were spoiled for choice!

GG had to try the bacon pancakes which were freshly made to order with bacon inside them – they looked amazing.

                     

W had pancakes, strawberries & cream.  We bought duck buns to try at home later.  I found Kombucha!  Everything was ‘organic’, ‘gluten-free’ and ’free range’; words that haven’t made it into our current host country’s lexicon yet.

We took a walk along the river near the house and booked ourselves a paddle boarding lesson for the morning.  Some pool time ensued followed by a stroll to Red on Thomas for some unbelievably delicious dinner and a food-coma-induced early night.

Twice cooked pork belly with celeriac remoulade, watercress & chill relish.

It was 3 sleeps till the wedding

Twelve nights away from my husband had gone past in a flash. GG arrived at 9.30am into Brisbane airport.  We were there to collect him.  We had coffees and breakfast muffins at the airport then loaded GG’s stuff in the back of our spacious Mitsubishi Outlander and set off heading North.  The drive up was quite uneventful.  We did pass the giant strawberry that had caused so much hilarity three years ago.  N’s animated

“GIANT STRAWBERRY!!”

outburst will be long remembered.  He had tried to tell us about it some nights before in an after-hours conversation round the dinner table, but his wife, V, had dismissed the idea implying his mind was playing tricks.  It wasn’t; he was vindicated by the sight of a five-foot high strawberry sitting by the side of the road denoting the ‘self-picking’ strawberry fields in the area, and nearly crashed the car enthusiastically pointing at it.  The girls giggled as we recounted the story.  Not sure if it was a funny second-hand story, or if they were laughing at us laughing so hard trying to tell it. 

On the road we discussed the plans everyone had for our time up on the suitably named Sunshine Coast.  W mentioned a Sunday farmer’s market she had read about in Noosa.  I asked if they’d heard about the Eumundi markets and she assured me it was positively Sunday, not (e)Monday.  Took a bit of back and forth, but eventually we understood each other.  Somebody mentioned stand up paddle boarding (SUP) and someone else mentioned the National Park walks to places like ‘Hell’s Gates’ and ‘Devil’s Kitchen’ which all sounded interesting.  Everyone agreed on lots of relaxation and pool lounging so we were all on the same page.  The girls work hard, and I know some tropical greenery is good for the soul when you’ve been living in the desert.
We arrived at the Eumundi Markets around 12 midday.  We stopped in to the cafe for brunch and had some tasty, gluten-free, organic, freshly made scran.  The markets closes at 2pm so we had to brave the midday sun or risk missing the stalls.

We made it to Noosaville about 2.30pm.  Our GPS took us right to the Noosa River Palms Resort. Quaint spot overlooking a shady park and the river.

Our villa was perfect.  It was aptly named ‘Lazy Days’.  Bedrooms downstairs, kitchen, living room and balcony upstairs (“It’s not a veranda!”)

The floor to ceiling windows opened right up to allow the breeze through the house and an unobstructed view across the park and river.

We hit the supermarket and bottle shop for the necessities and found our way back.  The Big Guy called in and invited us all over for a pool party at theirs.  We packed our ’togs’ (swimming gear) and beers and went off to find their place.

A great night was had by all meeting some family and friends of the Bride and Groom and having a giggle at Wee J’s child-wrangling abilities.  She had all four ankle biters hanging round her, fascinated and entertained.  The wee lad took a real shine to her.  He was sitting up on a high stool beside her and laid his head down on her boob – “It’s like a pillow.” he said matter-of-factly.  We laughed discretely as Wee J’s cheeks turned red and she tried to stifle her amusement.  Too cute!  The kid’s dad was hilariously mortified that his son had taken such a shining to Wee J’s ample bosom.

We ate good Aussie fish & chips, with vinegar & pickled onions – the Bride’s first pickle with her supper.  She claimed to like it but I’m not sure she wasn’t just being polite (she’s a well mannered lady).

After dinner the Blushing Bride brought out some ink pads, wooden stamp alphabet, paper labels, fine ribbon and small hessian bags.  Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to stamp ‘Thank You’ on the labels, thread the ribbon through the labels and attach them to the hessian bags.  Simples.  Except that we had all had a few celebratory libations.  By this point there were 7 of us.  T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U =8, so we took one letter each (the last guy was ‘Oh You!’), in theory it was a good idea.  The results were original, unique, individual, exclusive… boozy bonboniere.  

The Google-Maps-estimated-40-minute walk home was full of pishcology and high spirits.

The 40 minute power walk back to get the car at 8am the next day wasn’t quite as amusing.

I ❤️ BOYS IN KILTS

Friday 20th November

My eyelids popped open before I knew I was awake.  05:50.  No discernible noise had woken me, it was the caffeine still coursing through my veins.  What had happened?  What had gone wrong? What did I do?  How could I fix it? Was I too late?  My mind was racing.  I needed the password to get into the system.  If I could get in there I could restore the device; I could cover my tracks; I could fix everything.

I met a man in the kitchen who supplied me with the private codes to access the mainframe.  Now all I had to do was sneak in and steal the device.

At first glance there was nobody there.  No sounds.  No movement.  Would it be this easy to snatch it?  Advancing towards the door I noticed the ponytail on the pillow.  She was still asleep.  This was my one chance, I had to take it.  I gingerly tiptoed around the edges of the room, careful not to disturb anything.  They thick carpet masked the sound of my footsteps encroaching on her sleeping space.  It doesn’t bear thinking about the consequence of waking Sleeping Beauty.  My fingers cautiously stretched out, wrapped around the device and I sharply retreated back downstairs.

Turns out I couldn’t remember her passwords from the night before so I had to wait for her to get up to ask her.

iPhone restored from backup and all is well with the world.

While I was up there I chapped on the big yin’s door to be sure he was awake.  He came downstairs about ten minutes later, looking sleepy.  I got a big hug before he left for college.  Not sure where I’ll see him next either.

The wee one came down and came in for a hug.  He is just adorable.  I will miss his surprise hugs.  He, I’m sure, will forget he ever saw me naked.  J had forgotten and laughed a lot when we told him that he too had walked in on me in the shower in the flat in Glasgow when he was about 5.

J was my first venture into ‘aunthood’.  I was 23 when he was born and, being that T has been my main girl for longer than I can remember, she was my first pregnant friend and I learned a lot from watching her become a mum.  I was very conscious of not making a fuss or freaking out in case I scarred the wee man for life thinking nudity was something shocking or embarrassing or in any way wrong.  As I stood there, hands on head lathering up, he opened the bathroom door to find my full-frontal form, I calmly said “Yes honey, in you come, just don’t flush.” whilst turning my face to the wall.  He didn’t bat an eyelid, had a quick whizz & went back off to bed.

B on the other hand, did bat an eyelid.  I had just opened the shower door when I heard the knock on the bedroom door and the door opening “I’m just getting in the shower.” I called out thinking T had come in for something.  The wee face appeared round the wall into the ensuite waving his pet dolphin toy, saying something which he stopped mid-sentence, looked me up and down, hesitated for a split-second not quite sure what to do next, and then came in for a hug goodnight.  The next time he came into my room when I was doing my hair in the bathroom he called out “Are you getting in the shower?”.  Too cute.

My flight was at midday so had to leave for the airport at 10am.  The drive was quiet.  It’s always sad leaving.  I don’t know why I do it so often.  I think that’s why we always end up hammered the night before I leave.  Gives the emotional pain a physical manifestation. At least this time I made my plane.

Brisbane bound I was wearing my Slanj “I ❤️ boys in kilts” t-shirt.  In the departure lounge people were smirking at it.  A lady actually came up and asked for a photo of it.  I sat on the plane and the guy next to me said “Oh you’re the one who likes kilts.  Saw your shirt in the airport, it’s cool.”

We landed on time and I made my way to the international terminal to meet the girls flying in from Qatar for the Big Guy’s big day.  I called the Big Guy to let him know I was now in his territory and so he could keep me company while I waited for the girls to clear customs.  There were tears, I’m not going to lie.  They are sisters, I love them, it’s just the way it is.

We picked up the hire car and W drove.  Even though she was the one just off the 14 hour flight and driving on the ‘wrong’ side of the road.  It was only slightly concerning that she kept taking both hands off the steering wheel to check which hand made an L for left. ✋

We made it to the hotel and quickly baby-wipe bathed, changed and headed out for cocktails.  Alfred & Constance was the elected destination and we were seated in the thick of the action, outside, under the fairy lights and the stars.  The waitress came over with menus and W caught on right away she was from Glasgow.  A brief discussion and a “SHUT.UP.!!!” later we uncovered that she went to my high school.   What are the chances of that?  A couple of pitchers of cocktails and some Aussie fare later we decided to head back to the balcony of our suite and chill out.  W was fairly taken with the hot boy in the bottle shop who was giving her the patter.  J & I were in the fridge choosing wine and W was perched on the counter giggling away.  He gave her two ‘frangelico’ glasses but surprisingly not his phone number.  We went to bed when the wine was finished and the world had been set to rights.