Onwards and Upwards

I love new year's resolutions. I do. That opportunity to look ahead, plan and set goals really appeals to my inner nerd.

I've already looked back over 2010, and now I'm more than ready to forget about the year that was, and move on. It was a year filled with great things, but also a very dark year personally.

And so we come to next year.

My main resolution is to be happy. To focus on the positive, to not let myself go down the path I went down this year. I can't do it again, I can't let myself go back there.

I'd love a book deal... or two... or three... (just putting that out there!)

I want to finish our house, see the end of painting and the like. I want to be able to sit back and think - DONE! And then focus our attention, time and money onto other things...

Like more travel. I want to do some big trips, see new places and explore the world. I'm hoping we get a big trip into the second half of 2011. (Asia and Africa are topping my list right now.)

I want to write, write, write.

2011 will, for me, be all about being in the moment and enjoying the little things. The little everyday moments that need to be soaked up, because they only come once.

Wishing you all a wonderful year ahead.

Renovation Reveal: The Bathroom

When the builders finish, the hard work really begins for us - or so I'm discovering.

We have been flat out painting, cleaning, packing, unpacking and moving furniture, all in preparation for the floorboards being polished next week. Amidst all that, though, we have managed to finish two rooms - the bathroom and toilet.

We've tried to keep it all quite classic; a combination of white, charcoal and stainless steel, plus a touch of colour with the towels, and a huge mirror to make it all seem extra spacious. Not to mention a few luxurious touches, with a big bathtub and a dinner-plate-sized shower head.

It all came out pretty affordable, too. We spent (but not excessively) on the big things - bath, shower, vanity, toilet and taps - and then used eBay, Grays Online and IKEA for the finishing touches.

Here 'tis:

Bargain alert! This towel rack (non-heated;
there's a heating duct right underneath it) retails
for around $300. After some hunting, we found
this refurbished one on eBay for $40 - including
the courier fee!

We were originally searching for a storage unit for our towels,
but when we spotted this shelf in IKEA we had to have it.

You like?

My Second Home

Cool weather, snow-topped mountains, wild beaches, untamed forests, small cities, wonderful people.

Tasmania.

I’m a Melbourne girl. I was born here, grew up here and now live my adult life on the outskirts of this beautiful city. But Tasmania is my second home, the place I spent every childhood holiday. My parents were both raised in Tassie and many of my relatives on my mother’s side of the family live there.

My siblings and I spent many a holiday running around Nanna and Grandad’s Hobart backyard, overlooking the Derwent River and dwarfed by the shadow of Mount Wellington. As we grew older, we would walk to the city centre and meet up with our cousins for some shopping and sightseeing. Other days we would all climb into Grandad’s car and head out for daytrips – to the old town of Richmond, Port Arthur or the beach.

We were introduced to our family history by visiting places like the Cadbury factory, where my paternal grandfather once worked, and the surrounding estates where my father grew up. Sometimes we would drive further out and see some of the towns our mother grew up in, having moved around a lot in her childhood.

So, when my now-husband and I took our first holiday together in 2000, we dismissed the warmer climates and tropical destinations and opted to travel to Tasmania. I wanted to introduce him to my second home. And I also wanted to see more of the state myself, having only really seen around the Hobart area.

Many people questioned this decision. Some were perhaps quite right in doing so, as we decided to go in the middle of winter, but others frustrated me by asking what on earth we would do in Tasmania for two weeks. I can tell you now, there is so much to see and do in that one small state.

Steve and I, being on a tight budget, borrowed his parents’ campervan – an old, Smurf blue, pop-top Nissan Urvan that chugged along with such effort even on flat, straight roads that we questioned its ability. But it was the cheapest, easiest option, so we persisted. I rang a few campsites we were planning to stop at, but was laughed at down the phone – ‘No need to book this time of year, love,’ they said. ‘It’ll be you and the wallabies!’ Okay, maybe Tasmania in the middle of winter wasn’t the best idea.

Still, we went ahead.

From the ship’s dock in Devonport, we headed south-west to Cradle Mountain, a place we loved so much we went back a few years later to hike the Overland Track (ninety stunning kilometres from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Clair).

Then we headed down the west coast, an area of such raw beauty that it takes your breath away – and I mean that literally. Strahan and a tour along the Gordon River was the highlight of the entire trip, a spot claiming to have the freshest air in the world (there’s nothing west until South America) and most definitely the purest, mirror-like water I have ever seen. Ancient huon pine trees, world heritage land and landmarks from convict days added to the amazement of this special part of the world.

Next on the itinerary was a town just forty kilometres from Strahan: Queenstown. An old copper mining town, Queenstown is somewhat reminiscent of how one would imagine Mars: red dirt and rocks as far as the eye can see, with not a tree or shred of greenery. This is an interesting sight in itself, yet the contrast to the nearby town of Strahan with its richly lush environment is staggering.

From there we had hoped to reach the Mt. Field National Park by night, but we were unprepared for the windy, narrow roads down the west coast. Coupled with an old campervan that was slipping and sliding across the icy surface, it became a situation we had to rethink, finding ourselves instead at a tiny fishing village in the centre of Tasmania. We headed to the National Park the next morning and from there, hit Hobart.

Staying with family, we enjoyed a few days of relative luxury: a warm shower, Nanna’s home-cooked meals and a break from driving, except for a couple of day trips.

And then we continued. Past the halfway mark now, we headed north along the east coast, stopping for a walk to the famous Wineglass Bay with its untouched beaches and bluest of blue waters, wishing desperately that we had come in warmer weather so we could jump in for a swim.

Over to Launceston and then back to the ship at Devonport, and our tour around the state was over.

At least, until the next time.

And to those who doubted our decision to visit Tasmania? The weather, luckily for us, was better than we could have even hoped: it was cold, undoubtedly, but the sky was blue, the winter sun shining and not a patch of snow was to be seen. I was also happy to inform people that, despite our hurried state of travel, we barely touched the surface of all there is to see in this small jewel of a state in two weeks.

It would take more than a lifetime to do that.

My Roman Holiday

I had my first Italian language class in 1986. I was just six years old, so I can only vaguely remember the teacher and, unfortunately, a minimal number of words he taught us (made even more unfortunate by the fact that I was to continue learning this language for the next decade, and then spend the ensuing decade forgetting it).

One thing comes back to me with a jolting force of clarity, though: the realisation that there were other countries out there to see.

It was an exciting thought. There were people living in countries far, far away from Australia, eating different foods (remember the ‘80s? – not nearly as much choice in foreign delicacies as we now have) and speaking beautiful languages.

I knew I had to go there one day.

So, when my husband and I decided to travel to Europe In 2006, Italy was at the top of my list of places to visit. Two decades after my introduction to Italian language and culture, we disembarked a train in the city of Milan and hired a car for a week of touring.

This visit followed a whirlwind two weeks of sightseeing around London and Paris and driving across Switzerland and, as we neared closer, my ideas of the boot-shaped land became more and more romantic.

We would spend hours at a time wandering the cobbled streets of ancient cities, then laze around drinking wine and eating huge bowls full of fresh pasta, followed, of course, by delicious gelato. The language I had spent so many classroom hours learning would come rushing back to me when I was surrounded by Italian people. I dreamed of rolling Tuscan hills, romantic gondola rides, beautiful seas, wonderful people and amazing food.

And Rome? The pinnacle of all my dreams? Of course, our time in the great city would be just like a scene from the classic movie, Roman Holiday.

The reality of travelling is that things are not always as they appear. Clichés are fantasies and movies are the height of artificiality. Moreover, the reality of driving around an entire country in one week, with no road maps, planned stops or accommodation bookings is not as laid-back as it sounds.

Our first day in Italy consisted of a drive from Milan (a city in which I have now seen the train station and the car hire depot) to Verona. Cue more romanticism with the image of Romeo and Juliet’s balcony. In fact, it became more a case of ‘Verona, wherefore art thou accommodation?’ when it turned out there was a big tourist event in the town at the time we arrived. The idea of just stopping when it took our fancy lost some appeal on that first night when I was starving and desperate for, um, non-squat facilities.

The trip became better and better from there. Venice (complete with gondola ride that was more humorous than romantic), Cinque Terre and Pisa followed and were all wonderful.

A quick stop in a small town in Tuscany meant we missed those hours strolling through the rolling hills and filling up on scrumptious country cuisine, but such is the sacrifice when travelling on such a tight timeframe.

One of my biggest disappointments was Florence. We spent, literally, an entire day queuing to see the statue of David and, whilst it was magnificent and wonderful, et cetera, it would have been nice to see the city itself.

From there were more big names and awe-inspiring sights: the Vatican, Pompeii, the Amalfi Coast and (be still my beating heart) Rome.

I enjoyed every minute of our time in Rome, but Audrey Hepburn I most definitely was not. Nor was a semblance of Gregory Peck anywhere to be seen.

As we neared Rome, my husband and I made a decision to stay on the outskirts of the city and catch a train in each morning. We had come with dire warnings from those who had been before us: whatever you do, do not drive in Rome.

Okay. Message received loud and clear. We won’t drive into Ro…

“Um, Megan,” said my husband nervously from the driver’s seat. “I think we’re in Rome.” Together, we panicked and he parked the car in the next spot we saw, which happened to be opposite a hotel.

I ran in and asked if they had a room. “No,” replied the man at the desk, “but my cousin owns a hotel a few streets away and he has a room.” He pulled out a map (you know, those things that tourists really should carry with them) and pointed – you are here. I held my screams inside long enough to watch him point again – my cousin’s hotel is there – and ran back to the car.

Then I began.

I showed my husband the map. It was one of those tourist maps that show all the city sights in little three dimensional pictures around the streets. “Here’s us,” I managed to say in between all the “Oh my god”s and struggling to breathe. “And here, right here” – and I pointed to the unmistakable image a mere centimetre on the map from our current destination – “is THE COLOSSEUM!”

We were beside ourselves. We were thisclose to one of the most famous ancient sights in the world. A place I had dreamed of seeing for twenty years.

We found our way to the other hotel and spent the next few days walking around the city, not daring to drive in Rome again. We saw so much – the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps, Pantheon, Mouth of Truth, Castello Sant’Angelo and more.

And, although it was slightly Hepburn/Peck-esque, with gelato on the Spanish Steps and laughter and fun, I don’t recall them squashed onto a train with a million Romans in an effort to find their way around.

Perhaps we should have hired Vespas to complete the experience!

When it was time to leave, we departed Rome at four a.m., so worried were we about driving in this huge city amidst peak traffic.

At the end of it all, I could not have been happier. My dream – albeit slightly warped – had come true. I had my Roman Holiday.

Merry Christmas!

Thank you to everyone who has dropped by my blog this year. Your support means so much to me, and I look forward to chatting with you again next year.

Wishing you and your families a wonderful Christmas.

See you again soon!


Megan

The Lazy Mother

It's almost Christmas. Everyone is nearly on holidays. The end of the year is approaching, but the associated grumps have well and truly arrived.

One thing we all know is that this time of year is summer in Australia. Everyone, that is, except whoever controls the weather here in Melbourne. It's raining, it's cold, it's miserable.

And I can't be bothered organising activities for Abbey. That's right - I'm being a grumpy, lazy mother. A mother who thought this time when her husband is super busy at work, nearly on holidays to share the load, would be filled with sending her toddler outside to play.

Sure, I could rug her up and send her outside. She would love all the mud and puddles. But did I mention that I just can't be bothered?

The entire year seems to have caught up with me and I have no energy to be changing clothes, creating more washing, cleaning up and wiping noses.

Nor do I have the energy to set up lovely craft activities inside.

See? I told you I was a grump.

Eventually, I find two hula hoops and give them to Abbey. No good - she wants me to jump in and out of them with her. Far too energetic.

No, what I need is something to use up her energy whilst conserving my own.

Then I find it.

In the third drawer, the trusty third drawer packed with miscellaneous randomness inside, I discover a dozen bottles of bubbles (as in bubbles to blow, not bubbles to drink. Unfortunately.). Aha.

I sit down and begin blowing bubbles around her. She runs around chasing them.

It is the perfect plan. I can sit on my bum while Abbey runs around madly.

To the untrained eye I seem like a wonderful mother. To those in the know I am a grumpy woman with no energy.

I'm just glad that Abbey doesn't fall into the latter category.


Megan

A Christmas Tradition

Christmas is a time of tradition, and each family has their own.

But, when you start your own family, part of the fun of Christmas becomes in beginning your own new traditions.

And, although adults like to think they set the traditions, the best traditions often begin with little to no input from the adults.

Especially when you have a daughter who likes to keep Santa in line.

So, is it really up to us to set new traditions? Or do the best memories and traditions just create themselves?

Megan

Grateful

Today, I'm joining in with Maxabella's Saturday Grateful. I love reading all the happy posts around the blogosphere on a weekend, so I thought I'd join in this week.

This week I'm grateful for...

Our builders. They've finished! And we're so happy to have our newly improved home to ourselves again. And not only did they finish the entire job in four quick months, but they cleaned it thoroughly before they left. They dusted everything, wiped down every surface, washed the deckings, cleaned the driveway, washed the windows inside and out, cleaned the floors - all they'd have to do is pick up Abbey's toys and cook dinner, and my work here would be done!

Friends. Right on cue, just as I needed to let go and have some fun, my friends came to the rescue. Last weekend, I went out for dinner (and a couple of bottles of champagne) with some of my girlfriends. Then, a last-minute opportunity for Bon Jovi tickets came our way, and my bestie and I went to the concert. We danced, sang and acted like teenagers for a night. So much fun.

Christmas cheer. Having to go to a shopping centre so close to Christmas is not often a fun thing, but this week it was. I took Abbey shopping, expecting it all to turn pear-shaped, but was pleasantly surprised. No tantrums. And lots of smiling, happy faces and people laughing at her funny antics. It seems like everyone is happier this year, rather than the stressed out, crabby faces around the shops most other Christmases.


Megan

Renovations: Days Seventy-Four to Seventy-Seven

This week has been all the finishing touches, most importantly:

Our new laundry - kind of makeshift until the cabinetry is done (in the new year)

And that's it.

On August 10th this year, the builders arrived to make our dreams a reality. Since we first moved here, in 2001, we had planned ways to make our house better. By this year, some of those things had been done already, but the big plans were yet to happen.

It all began here.

Just four months - seventy-seven working days - later, and it's finished. It's all built.

Our house has gone from a small place that suited Steve and I, to a less small (I wouldn't go as far as to say it's large!) home to raise our family.

In the new year, I'll slowly post photos of every room as each one is completed.


Megan

Out of the Darkness

Walking.
Through the forest.
Dark, cold, damp.
Enclosed.
No end in sight.

I panicked.

I thought it would never end,
all I wanted was to see light.
To stop walking.
I needed it to end.
He comforted me,
told me to breathe,
promised it was nearly over.
He promised it would get better.
Soon.

He was right.
Soon,
I saw the light,
in the distance
through the trees.
I saw light emerging.
It was true.

Everything was going to be okay.

Safely now,
in the light,
I looked back.
It was dark.
Black.
Life was drowning in there,
drowning in the darkness.

I turned and walked.
I walked
once again.
But not toward the darkness.
I walked to
light.
To happiness.

I am okay.

Now that I see the light,
I know that.


Megan

Infinity Plus One

What do I wish I had an infinite amount of?

Well, the answer to that question is infinite in itself.

I wish I had neverending energy, patience, laptop battery power, time, money, chocolate, writing time, abilities, reading time, shoes, pain threshold, champagne, supplies of Abbey's favourite teddy bear, facial appointments, clothes, ideas, nap time, hours in the day, words, shopping time, space for writing things I wish I had an infinite amount of...

And because I believe in the power of "infinity plus one", there's one other thing I'd like to request.

That is, an infinite amount of wonderful moments.

Life can be tough on us at times, and I for one have struggled a bit this year. Sometimes the unexpected twists and turns of life can take some getting used to.

Pulling me through, though, are the wonderful moments here and there. Sometimes they pass us by, unnoticed. But other times, when our eyes are wide open and we're in the moment, we see them for what they are - pure joy. A smile, a lovely note, a compliment, giving to others, laughter, a fun game... there are an infinite number of things to take happiness in.

There are wonderful moments in every day - we just have to remember to keep our eyes open.

And my wish is to notice each and every one of them. All infinity. Plus one.

Disclosure: this post has entered me in a competition hosted by Vodafone.
Click on the pic to find out more about their Infinite Plans.

Megan

Rewind: The Year of Surprises

What a year. Sitting here now at the end of it, looking back, I feel happy, proud and.... exhausted.

Although it goes so fast, a lot can happen in a year. And it certainly did in 2010!

This is the year that our home changed, the foundations laid for our future...

The year my baby girl turned two and grew up so much...

The year I turned 30 and celebrated with my little family and some great friends in paradise...

The year I started out trying to grow my hair, and ended up cutting it all off - again...

And Abbey's hair grew from a short covering to a mass of curls...

The year we added chickens to our household...

The year that I began as a HR Consultant hoping for some writing work on the side...

And ended as a writer...

The year that some doors came ajar and others flew wide open...

The year I had some monumental breakdowns...

And came out the other side a happier, better person...







This was a year full of surprises. I wonder what 2011 will bring...


Megan

Renovations: Days Sixty-Nine to Seventy-Three

I wonder if our builders secretly read my blog? Because sometimes it's like they can read my mind.

Most of this week I've been feeling a bit down about it all, resulting in this post yesterday. Then this morning, I went home to grab a few things and the builders tell me... (drum roll please)...

THEY'LL BE FINISHED NEXT WEEK!!!!!!!!

That's just what I needed to hear. There is light at the end of the tunnel, and I can see its brightness peeking through.

At the moment they're working on the finishing touches:

Plastering and and patching the floor in the new living area

The new wardrobe in our master bedroom

Of course, this doesn't mean the end of the renovations. We still have a long list of things to be done: painting, floor polishing, painting, heating and cooling, painting, cabinetry, painting, and fitting out the ensuite (we decided to leave that room for now) included. Oh, and we have some painting to do as well. Not to mention the fun bits: furniture shopping and room decorating!

But what it does mean is our house will be ours once again. We can get back to life as usual.

And I think I'll be moving home again this weekend, and for the last week I'll just escape during the days.


Megan

I'm Loving...

I've met some amazing people here in this online world. Some are super talented, some are really lovely, some become new friends - and some are all of the above.

The gorgeous Cat of Wouldn't it be Loverly - someone who I wish lived closer to me, so we could catch up for a chat and our energetic little ones could play! - makes these beautiful embroideries, and sent these two to me.

How beautiful are they?!

For Abbey's new room

This one's going in my new office - a bit of cheerful inspiration!

Thanks Cat. xxx

Head to Cat's Made It or Etsy stores to see more beautiful custom-made embroideries (great pressie ideas!).


Megan

Point and Shoot: A Treat

After our outing on the weekend, Abbey and I thought we'd finish off with a special treat...

An ice cream on a hot day, out the front of the beautiful State Library of Victoria, while we watched the trams and the people go by.

We ♥ Melbourne.


Megan

I'm Loving... Picture Book Art!

The State Library of Victoria has a real treat for picture book lovers. Look! The art of Australian picture books today is stunning - and, complete with activities for the kids, it's a great family activity.

The artwork is on show until the end of May 2011, so there's plenty of time to make your way there.

I spent some time there with Abbey yesterday - here are some of our favourites on show...

Leigh Hobbs' Mr Chicken

What the Sky Knows, illustrated by Stella Danalis

Diary of a Wombat - Bruce Whatley

 More of Whatley's magic - The Watchmaker Who Saved Christmas

Illustrator Anna Walker (one of our favourite illustrators at Kids Book Review)

Another of KBR's favourites - the sculpture work of David Miller

Abbey creating an original piece of artwork
(other kids' activities included storytime, light boxes, books, puzzles, felt pictures - and more!)

Alison Lester's Are We There Yet?

Little Cat and the Big Red Bus by Anna Walker

The inimitable Stephen Michael King's work from Leaf

The Boy and the Toy, illustrated by Lucia Masciullo

Find out more about the exhibition here - it's a must see for anyone in Melbourne between now and May!


Megan