Her mother’s daughter

“In Australia, the perfect escape to rest, relax and entertain is a beach house and among beach houses so very few can claim all the attributes of 15 Shipton,” says a South Coast real estate agents. “Whether you wish to build something astonishing or just get away now, this sale deserves your attention.”

Um, hello? I’ll never understand the predilection for tearing perfectly good houses down. Let me assure you, if I had the millions to buy this beauty in Mollymook, bulldozing it would not be on my agenda.

I’d just be parking myself on one of those sun loungers and waiting for the COVID crisis to pass. Well, aside from popping down the road for Sunday lunches at Rick Stein’s famed seafood restaurant when it reopens.

I can’t imagine what the reserve will be on the place, as the pandemic has sent property prices everywhere through the roof. Apparently all the expats who’ve returned from overseas are slapping down crazy money to secure a piece of local real estate.

Who’d have thought a deadly virus would be so healthy for the real estate market?

My dream is a beach view one day, but it seems to be getting further and further out of reach. So I’m fantasising about campervans and caravans instead. I got very excited at the petrol station yesterday when I saw a poster that said I could go in the draw for a Jayco caravan if I bought a can of V.

I’m IN, baby!

The youngest was horrified because she wants a small campervan, with a toilet and shower being optional.

“Why do you need a toilet? You can just sh#t in the bushes,” she said.

I don’t think she understands the flexibility required to sh#t in the bushes when you’re over 50. Comfortable toilets are very important in your middle age.

I am being constantly harassed by the youngest to buy a loo-less campervan because she wants to drive around Australia surfing at random beaches when she finishes high school. She researched hiring a van and discovered you need to be over 21. I expect I will be hearing a lot about campervans over the coming months. She wants me to get an old van so we can convert it together. She’s come up with extensive plans for it.

She is her mother’s daughter.

In the meantime, she’s bought a second-hand surfboard with the money she’s earned working at a bakery, despite having barely set foot on the one she spent a small fortune buying last summer. She ignored my pleas to do some research and bought her first board based on its looks rather than it’s suitability for a beginner. So it’s been in mothballs in DD’s garage ever since it proved too difficult to master.

I’m thinking surfing lessons might be a good Christmas present. And maybe some driving lessons for her 16th birthday, so she can actually get behind the wheel of the fantasy van.

She’s getting a little ahead of herself on quite a few fronts.

Yep, she’s definitely her mother’s daughter.

Song of the day: The Monkees “Daydream Believer”

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