Last Minute Weekend Away

I know it drives James a little crazy (and probably others too, you can send me an anonymous text if you like), but I am a generally optimistic person.  Not one of those high-pitched, rabid, frenzied optimists, or even one of those navel-gazing, slow-talking, chilled out optimists.  Nope, just a regular ole optimist am I.  So when things were looking tight for James to drive up and see Neil Young and Crazy Horse at a winery on the coast (the result of a free ticket), did I let him hand that ticket back in?  When I knew The Drones were supporting?

Safe to say I begged him to bide his hand and an answer would present itself.  And that's when I realised that we had a buoy.  Sure, it was a lifesaver in the form of an enormous bowl of change that had to be counted and sorted through.  But it was fun to sit with Ted and count it all out, arrange the teetering stacks of silver into appropriate bag lots and slide them across the table with a satisfying clatter.  Maybe not so fun was having to drive to our own bank branch to have the money counted (who knew that banks didn't do that now except for if you already have an account with them? Bah, humbug!).  But the children received stickers and the tellers are actually lovely people at our bank so it wasn't quite as capitalist-inducing as one might have expected.

Cashed up and giddy with the newfound wealth that had been lying dormant on our fridgetop for years, we drove with Zoe up to her mother's house.  Turns out it's not that far a drive to the winery.  Funny how these things come together, huh?  

And of course the chance to watch the children from both families form a little band of enthusiastic chicken herders, dog groomers and general wild fliers was fun too.  They ran wild across the open expanse of lawn radiating out from the house.  Harriet and Priya created a school/orphanage out by the pizza oven.  Ted and Arki managed to investigate every corner they could squeeze themselves into and general merriment was had by all.

Of course the opportunity to pick the last of the season's mulberries straight from the tree?  Apparently it was such a life-affirming experience it vanquished Harriet's usual inability to smile at glass.  Here Priya is seen sporting the extra-oral evidence of a tree plucked clean.

But no free-ranging child can subsist on mulberries alone.  And in this global era, who were we, mere mothers, to deny them the multicultural expectations they thrust upon us - sushi and tacos.  The perfect sustenance. 

 

And with the luxury of two baths presenting itself, two pairs of children broke off to bathe.  At some point a decision was reached and the girls chose downstairs, while the boys moved upstairs.

Ted found it a little tricky to get down to sleep, but once he was down, he slept soundly.  Harriet awoke at around 10pm and stayed up for a while until the adults also hit the hay.

And then the next morning we all went off on a beach adventure.  I left the camera at home, so I failed to capture what was apparently "the worst experience EVER" and "the saddest I have ever been" when we discussed with Harriet that we were leaving to drive back home again.

And so it was that we headed back to Sydney sand-crusted and salt-powdered, sun-warm and happy.

It's the last minute adventures that always make me smile.