A different sort of blues

The kids’ week with their grandparents was a huge success. They were well-behaved, nothing got broken.


I drove up to Newcastle on Saturday and took them out for fish and chips and a beach walk to celebrate.

I love the walk from Merewether to Bar Beach. It’s gorgeous.

It was filled with beautiful moments again on Saturday, but marred slightly by a dauntingly massive plague of bluebottles. Now, I am prone to exaggeration, but this time I am being beyond honest. There were thousands upon thousands of the little bastards.

The youngest is TERRIFIED of bluebottles after getting one wrapped around her thigh as a four year old – you’ve never heard screams like it – so you can imagine the amateur dramatics that accompanied our trek.

We ended up having to walk in the soft sand all the way there and back. We were KNACKERED by the end of it.

It didn’t stop the walk being its usual special self. At one point I lay back in the sand to watch a hang-glider swooped low over our heads and its flyer wave to us – the kids were stoked.

Saturday night was my mate John’s 50th. John and I go back a loooooong way. He was friends with my first boyfriend. I also take credit for introducing him to my sister’s best friend and his now wife.

Go me.

John had a party in his backyard for around 50 adults and 25 kids and prayed like hell it wouldn’t rain. The gods smiled on him and a fab night was had by all.

I warned the kids they could only come to the party if they didn’t hang around me all night. They had to MINGLE with their fellow small people. I mean, I didn’t mind them doing a bit of bad smelling, but not the whole party.

Yeah right. They were my shadows … until I finally found the eldest a copy of Divergent to read by candlelight until home time. The youngest kept herself busy inhaling sugar.

Sunday started off nice and lazy, then we convoyed to the Belmont Sailing Club for lunch before the kids and I headed home for dinner with their dad who has been missing them BAD.

It’s always kinda weird doing the family dinner routine in restaurant. I often think how much like a non-separated family we must look – no one would ever guess the real story.

It’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong. Very good. The kids love it … when they can get a word in. There were lots of parenty things to discuss last night like the eldest starting high school, the youngest’s upcoming allergy testing and my ex taking the kids on a potential overseas holiday later in the year.

So, that was my weekend (check out my happy snaps below) how was yours?

4 thoughts on “A different sort of blues

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  1. I got stung by bluebottles when I was about the same age as your youngest and I still remember how much it hurt. I don’t blame her for taking the soft sand option. But I bet your muscles were feeling it today the day after.

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