{the letterpress and the hedgehog room}

It's time

2011-12-11T09:18:00.001-06:00

Decorate the Christmas tree
Make a gingerbread house with the kids
Keep up with the Advent calendar
Put up some LIGHTS how hard can it be
Send Christmas cards to anyone whose address wasn't lost with my iPhone
Get the last of the Christmas presents
Face up to planning Christmas dinner
Buy a lot of champagne...

If I don't get that stuff done this week, the anti-Christmas indictment sticks. It's ON.

. . .

Speed

2011-10-06T00:30:00.005-05:00

NONE OF THESE PEOPLE ARE ME.

Sad confession: I started my first ride on the road bike half clipped-in, clinging to a light pole on Kendall's hill, refusing to move.

The problem was this: I was about to start my first road ride (speed, hills, cars) without ever having sat on a road bike before. Unless you count the night before, when I thought OH MY STARS I HAVE NEVER EVEN SAT ON A ROAD BIKE BEFORE and then spent about six white-knuckled minutes riding it on the flat.

Or I suppose the problem could be this: I'm really scared.

In any case, we'd just put our helmets on and Kendall was on his bike and I was straddling mine and explaining to him that I hadn't actually ever ever ridden a road bike and something about my concerns re: hills and what-about-cars and he just said– "You talk when you're nervous" and he rode off.

He rode off.

And did I do the sporting thing and follow? Well, you know.

So Kendall is at the bottom of the hill (it's on a hill, his house... I'm supposed to start downhill??) shouting, Come on Helen and Let go of the pole Helen and Leetttt GO of the POLE Helennnn! for the whole village to hear, and I'm calling back various high-pitched lies like, Just a second! and I'm coming! and Wait wait I'm nearly okay! and vividly picturing myself dying in a bike-filled crash on Kendall's hill.

Eventually I pushed away, like jumping off a cliff (I thought) and although it took me a good block and a half to actually finish clipping in, we were away.

He had to shout at me a lot at first – mostly "Don't brake!" and "DON'T LET ME HEAR YOUR BRAKES" and "I'll know if you're braking" and "WHY ARE YOU BRAKING??". But after a while I got the idea – don't brake on the corners, don't brake on the downhills, maybe don't brake ever, don't think on the climbs (what are you going to think about: somebody has set my legs on fire?) and you know, enjoy the spectacular German scenery when you're not visualising your own spectacular maiming.

We went far. We did long climbs. We went fast. Well, Kendall went fast (he loves danger, he asks danger out on dates) and I reached a max speed of 30mph on the downhill. Which is nothing to experienced cyclists. But – 30 miles per hour, people. Can you see me going 30 miles per hour without a car surrounding me??

Neither can I.

But it was amazing. And my handprints are still on the light pole.

Parenting skills

2011-10-05T00:33:00.002-05:00

Pre-coffee, I hear myself disciplining my children: "Stop it, both of you! Watch some SportsCenter and BEHAVE!"

Feel free to tell me how I'm destroying America.

. . .

Sticks and stones

2011-10-04T00:39:00.000-05:00

Berry just said to Manshow, "Go away, Australian boy" as if it's an insult or something.

We'll need to Talk.

Sounds like serendipity

2011-10-03T00:36:00.000-05:00

I think I'll be eternally grateful to the guy in the commissary queue in Mississippi who heard we were moving to Germany and told me, "You know where you should live? Queidersbach."

Lost in Translator

2011-09-28T00:40:00.000-05:00

I tackled a my first cake recipe in German, with trusty Google Translator.

I left out one letter, and a key step became "experimental cows".

Birthday girl

2011-09-23T00:51:00.000-05:00

Berry: "Mommy, when I say I'm six, I feel all weird and a little bit scared of myself."

. . .

Thy neighbour's bike...

2011-09-22T00:44:00.000-05:00

Oh honey. I know the feeling.

Oh my

2011-09-21T00:42:00.000-05:00

The little boy next door is calling Berry's name over and over, and lifting his backyard slide up over his head. Berry is standing on the other side of the fence twirling her hair and giggling.

I'm seeing flashes of a scary, scary future.

Really.

2011-09-19T07:49:00.000-05:00

Language barrier

2011-09-15T00:51:00.000-05:00

Any time you tell Manshow something he doesn't want to hear, or obey, he puts up his hand and says, "I only speak German."

From our balcony on Saturday morning...

2011-09-10T07:52:00.000-05:00

...and the street smells like wood-smoke, and cows.

I love this place.

. . .

Like magic

2011-09-03T12:44:00.001-05:00

Jules and I had two enraging days of failed espresso pulls and failed milk frothing on the Vibiemme. So at 8:30 this morning -- Saturday, no less! -- I left a message on the phone of the appointment-only espresso machine shop where I bought my set-up, asking for lessons and knowing I wouldn't even hear back until next week. Would you believe by 2:30pm we were in a specialist Kaffeerösterei in Landau, getting a one-on-one, hands-on education AND a tour of the roastery. What are the chances?

Tonight, I pulled a completely successful shot and frothed amazing microfoam. Like magic. My hat is off to the fine men of Espresso-Maschinenraum Landau and KFE Die Kaffeerösterei. They are great, generous people, and they REALLY know their craft.

Big

2011-08-03T06:01:00.001-05:00

One of his main concerns about Germany was whether there would be machines. Happily for all of us, they are absolutely everywhere.

Berry is not so thrilled. To her way of thinking, it's grossly unfair that there aren't also princesses cruising down the hauptstrasse and hanging out in carparks.

Location:Germany

Perfect

2011-08-02T06:15:00.000-05:00

Schokoladenseite : I learned this today from my new German hairdresser. It's the side of your hair that always looks fabulous and sits just right. We all have it, she says. The "chocolate side". I love it.

Narrow

2011-07-07T08:40:00.002-05:00

I just realised I can say Kaffeerösterei and Espressomaschinen, and yet I still don't know the German for "Can you repeat that please?" or "I don't understand".

A rapid change in direction is needed.

. . .

Not cutting it.

2011-07-05T01:56:00.000-05:00

Berry: I wish we went to a fireworks on fourth of July.

Me: But you went to a castle!

Berry: Yep. Which was pretty dark and broken.

Freedom

2011-07-04T13:46:00.015-05:00

Happy 4th of July from Heidelberg Castle!

Manshow has taken the theme too far, with noisy and hard-fought battles against sitting in the stroller, or holding hands, or staying within shouting distance.

Extra-special tactics include collapsing on the ground in various queues, collapsing on the floor of the cable-car, collapsing under the table in the restaurant, and wailing "ouchy ouchy ouchy mamaaaa!!!" any time I hold his hand. (Gently hold his hand -- but try asserting that to passers-by casting startled glances at the spectacle.)

When it comes to three-year-old boys, independence is so overrated.

To market, to market

2011-07-01T05:33:00.001-05:00

It's all too pretty. Too neat. Too beautifully arranged. I just can't say no.

Ummm....

2011-06-30T04:34:00.000-05:00

Manshow, hearing Taio Cruz in the cafe: "Who's this? Is this Bob Dylan?"

. . .

Little 'Strayan

2011-06-29T04:39:00.000-05:00

Manshow just said looked up at me and said, "G'day mama!" ...so he will be getting extra treats today.

Don't tell Berry.

. . .

Zoom

2011-06-28T11:34:00.004-05:00

I just passed my US Forces (German) drivers license test! Unleash me all legal on the roads!

. . .

Walk the dinosaur

2011-06-27T11:46:00.002-05:00

After promising Berry at least 38 times that the fibreglass dinosaurs weren't real, had never been real and couldn't become real, we headed to Gartenschau Kaiserslautern for a day in the sun after a week of rain.

Unlike their dinosaur-encyclopedia-reading cousins, our kids aren't real big on the nitty-gritty of prehistoric life, so there was a fair bit of joyous quadruped-climbing before we found the German sign that said (of course) Don't Ride The Dinosaurs.

The kids had their favourites – Triceratops and Seismosaurus – but mine by far and away was this guy:

Just, you know, stalking the rear carpark and the warehouse on his day off.

Urban dinosaurs. Now that's a park I'd like to see.

. . .

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

2011-06-18T17:35:00.000-05:00

We've been in Germany 96 hours now, and Berry spins between acceptance and rejection. On Wednesday she wept bitterly and HATED GERMANY because the backerei had no muffins. Twenty minutes later she tried pain au chocolat for the first time and decided Germany was way better than America.

At the park in Queidersbach yesterday she again judged Germany "betterer" than America, but when she saw the local school she said "it makes me think of my school, and then I want to go home."

This morning something wasn't right with the bacon. It was American bacon, but she didn't know that. She burst into tears.

"German bacon!" she wailed.

"Everything here is German! GERMAN, GERMAN, GERMAN!"

. . .

Win!

2011-06-17T22:53:00.014-05:00

We found a house! The village is Queidersbach and it's absolutely lovely.

The landlord signed the papers this evening and after some processing by the military housing office next week (during which we'll vigorously cross our fingers and try not to think about it) we should get the keys next Friday.

We love everything about it, and there's a pear tree in the back yard.

It's Friday night and since we arrived on Tuesday we've managed to open a German bank account, get our temporary lodging fully set up, get German iPhones, start in-processing, join the gym, choose a village (we did choose the village first) and find a house, all with the kids in tow.

We're feeling very, very lucky and rather pleased with ourselves.

. . .

Got coffee

2011-06-16T11:01:00.007-05:00

Actually, I got many coffees. Lattes, cappuccinos, whatever they'll give me and whenever. And straight away the sun shines and the birds sing, and all of life can carry on with a spring in its step.

I'm not addicted. I'm not.

I'm not.

. . .

in Gerrrrrmany (that's how Berry says it)

2011-06-14T20:50:00.013-05:00

We'll be starting to look at German houses tomorrow. This is one of those situations where there's such a vast and daunting list of things that need to be handled immediately, you get rabbit-brain. But probably a house is a good place to start.

Honestly though, if my lesser brain took over it would focus purely on finding espresso, a gym, an excellent grocery store and a new iPhone. I am deeply uncomfortable.

. . .

(This post is a complete cheat – I cut-and-pasted it from a rather despondent email I sent to my sister on... I think... Tuesday night. Sometimes you get that.)

. . .

History

2011-06-07T13:05:00.001-05:00

Me: You understand? We don't open the door when Mummy's not around, because we just don't know what's outside.

Man-show: Maybe dinosaurs!

Berry: Dinosaurs are not alive. They lived in the 1980s. That's a long time. Before people were born.

. . .

Galveston

2011-06-06T10:53:00.002-05:00

We took a farewell trip to Texas to spend some great beach time with Nathan's side of the family and say our goodbyes before Germany. It really was terrific.

Although some of it was like this....

...and more of it was like this:

Do you even need to ask why?

. . .

Impulse

2011-05-28T12:40:00.000-05:00

I found a full-page picture of Old Spice guy in GQ, so I tore it out.

Now I'm not sure what to do with it, nor what to think of myself.

. . .

Sticks & stones

2011-05-21T13:56:00.002-05:00

Wailing from the back seat: "Mom! He said I'm stupid and I'm sandwichy and creamish and yoghurty! And he said princesses are potty!"

When the insults start flying around here, we really bring out the big guns.

. . .

Space

2011-05-18T15:50:00.003-05:00

It was only a matter of time before Man-show discovered the echo greatness of the empty, empty house...

. . .

Mountains of things

2011-05-17T09:08:00.000-05:00

Last time I moved to another country, I put everything I owned in two suitcases, one very big box and one giant hockey bag.

It really was easier that way.

. . .

Wedding fever? Who, us?

2011-04-29T06:43:00.000-05:00

Berry, watching Kate walk down the aisle:

"I wish I was her..."

. . .

Priorities

2011-04-16T10:05:00.000-05:00

Berry explains her independent outfit choice:

"Mom. It's not just about looking pretty. It's about how it feels."

. . .

Demise

2011-03-17T08:03:00.002-05:00

"I don't know what happened to Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters," Berry says.

"Maybe they died. Maybe they fell in a hole. Maybe they got hit by a car..."

{thoughtful pause}

"Maybe Cinderella cut them."

. . .

Distress

2011-03-12T08:10:00.000-06:00

I found Berry sobbing in the bathtub because "the German people don't know who Disney Princesses are."

Daddy told her this.

I will be having stern words with Daddy.

. . .

Krewe of Thoth 2011

2011-03-09T07:26:00.000-06:00

On Sunday we went to Thoth in New Orleans. It was our one and only Mardi Gras parade this year, and it was everything we wanted.

A picture's worth a thousand words, so here we go....

(Berry had to regularly unload the beads; they weighed her down. Miss Sarah helped.)

Dance!

2011-03-08T07:21:00.001-06:00

It's Mardi Gras!!

(Why did the King Cake Fairy not visit me? I've been so good!)

Have a festive Fat Tuesday, everyone.....

. . .

Small

2011-02-23T13:32:00.000-06:00

I left the gym this morning and walked out into the carpark, and the sun was just up and the traffic was quiet and the clouds were tiny and the air felt like it reminded me of something from a long time back.

I thought about Germany and I thought about the things that have made me happy here. I got in the car and burst into tears, and then I drove home.

. . .

Playing tourist

2011-02-22T13:58:00.004-06:00

New Orleans is the perfect place to be a tourist, even – no, especially – when you've already been a local.

We're close enough, and at last the kids are old enough, to make simple day-trips practical and worthwhile.

Last weekend we went over for the first time since Nathan came back from Afghanistan. We wandered the end of Magazine Street that we don't usually wander (closer to Washington Ave) and found plenty to come back for.

I'm actually making a list (surprise! Helen + list = so standard) of places we want to visit, or revisit. Z'Otz and La Divina are on there, because we've never been, and Sucré is, because we just did.

We have to go back to Napoleon House for the Pimm's Cups, and the Carousel Bar at the Monteleone, and breakfast at Croissant D'Or, and I might break my White Russians ban just to relive old times at The Chart Room.

We have to go back and play Frogger at the Gold Mine (I am dismal, inspiring both pity and ridicule) and I know The Cabildo needs another look. At least one more night at The Roosevelt, and one more swim in their rooftop pool (this time minus the two-year-old prone to throwing up from the excitement of it all). And dinner at Domenica and MiLa, and Herbsaint because Sarah will kill me if I don't ever make it there.

And I could go on and on and on, but here's where I realise I can't finish my list. I won't finish my list. I'll deliberately leave it unfinished, because wherever we move, for however long, I know I'll always come back.

. . .

Moving house (to Germany)

2011-02-22T10:49:00.001-06:00

Is that gentleman on the roof naked? I believe he might be, but I can't see on this screen. Apologies to anyone who didn't want to see a naked man (even a stone one) at whatever time of day...

I might have too many blogs (two could be too many?) and bits of social media, because I think I neglected to say here that we are moving to Germany.

MOVING TO GERMANY.

You can read about it here (click!) otherwise I'll just be repeating myself all over the place.

I have been doing a fair bit of lying awake at night, while it all sinks in...

Stay tuned for moving-around-the-world adventures and misadventures. There are bound to be plenty.

{The picture is relevant, sort of... I took that at Heidelberg Castle, last time we were in Germany. He looks like he's looking for someone. I'd like to think it's us.}

. . .

Sucré = sweeeeet

2011-02-21T18:33:00.006-06:00

Googling "best espresso New Orleans" was a great idea.

Yes, googling "best" anything usually leads to a lot of random sites and useless stuff but in this case it led me to a goldmine of a thread on Chowhound – and among the recommendations was Sucré.

Sucré is my newest New Orleans crush.

The lattes are beautiful, the cappuccinos are first class, the food is art...

...and every last detail is beautifully designed. Visual feast is not putting it too strongly.

And the staff were lovely; and not just tolerant of the kids but openly welcoming.

I'm going back for more coffee. Much more coffee. And a tshirt.

. . .

Buzz

2011-02-19T19:42:00.012-06:00

Latte experts (hello Gerrod! hello Jules!) will see some flaws, including a few larger bubbles that slipped past the bouncer.

I just see YAY! Sort-of microfoam! Sort-of a pattern!!!

Just wait till I get myself a real latte art pitcher....

Oh yes, I am compulsively taking photos of my attempts at milk frothing. I'd like to say I'm documenting my progress, but I truly just can't help myself.

Yes. I am very, very caffeinated.

. . .

Dream big

2011-01-13T16:21:00.002-06:00

Little man's big dream has been to drive big machines.

He plays with toy earth-movers for hours on end. He pores over board books with detailed pictures of many, many heavy lifters. He can correctly distinguish between a regular roller and a double-drum compacter. He points out telescopic handlers and cold planers and hydraulic excavators when we pass road works and building sites. He really, really loves machines.

On Thanksgiving, at Wolf Creek in Texas with Granddad Jim, his machine dream came true.

You know how you imagine when a kid gets what they always wanted they'll caper around and laugh and shout and get all excited? This was not like that at all. This was pure, steely focus. This was, "I have a job to learn, please let me concentrate."

He was the most seriously contented two-year-old ever.

Small story

2011-01-11T11:01:00.000-06:00

. .

My parents once had dinner guests who stayed a bit too long. They fixed that by dozing off right where they sat, on the couch, in the middle of conversation. Both of them, accidentally and simultaneously. When they woke up, they had lost an hour of Saturday night, and the guests.

. .

Educator of the Year

2011-01-10T19:05:00.001-06:00

Berry is being the student and Man-show is being the teacher. The classes he's offered so far: Leaf Blowers, Train Track, North Pole and Bartender.

That's some school....

. . .

Thanksgiving {belated is understating it}

2011-01-09T09:25:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving in Wortham, Texas. Population 1107. We made it about 1117, which definitely has a better ring to it.

Man-show managed two not-at-all-minor injuries during the road trip up there, but in the end he decided not to test the medical capabilities of very-small-town Texas.

And for that, I am deeply, deeply thankful.

A little fox

2011-01-07T12:29:00.009-06:00

I'm ashamed of how hopeless I've been at posting here.

Perhaps I can distract you with a picture of the latest Sweet Olive Press letterpress birth announcement? I drew the little fox myself. I printed it myself. I really have nothing more to say for myself.

Maybe tomorrow...

. . .

But no thanks

2010-12-23T20:28:00.000-06:00

I brought Berry the remains of her hot chocolate and asked, "Do you want your marshmallows before I throw this away?" And she said, "No, you can eat them if you want."

Temptation by slightly-preloved marshmallow is not in my repertoire, but I appreciate the thought....

. . .

Vanilla Twilight?

2010-12-19T14:07:00.001-06:00

. . .

I'm so glad I listened to Owl City's Ocean Eyes over and over and over when Man-show was a baby.

Even two years later I can put him on my shoulder, hit play, and watch it kick in like a very, very magic sleeping pill.

. . .

All I want for Christmas...

2010-12-17T15:30:00.001-06:00

Yesterday a giant, mysterious, red-papered box appeared on our doorstep, and the kids got their Number One Christmas Wish early.

After nearly seven months away, Nathan came home from Afghanistan – arriving just in time for the Little Jesus Festival (Berry's preschool Christmas pageant).

Berry played the part of an angel, and she was beyond elated that her Daddy was there to see her.

So whatever Nativity angel was known for waving, leaping up and down, giving thumbs-up, miming hugs and blowing kisses – Berry was that angel.

She was a bit distracting, but I think the Baby Jesus understood.

. . .

Factory second

2010-12-06T07:00:00.000-06:00

Berry finished a Toy Story 3 colouring page and I told her, somewhat absently, that she'd done a good job.

"Yeah," she said, "but I kind of phoned it in on that one."

. . .

Interpretation

2010-12-05T10:55:00.000-06:00

"Awwww look!" Berry says, "The baby Jesus on his rocking horse!"

. . .

I'm here. And sheepish.

2010-12-04T18:36:00.001-06:00

Does it help that I feel guilty for not posting? That I've felt guilty for the entire month of November? That I did manage to post over on the Sweet Olive Press blog and that I was busy busy busy with printing and the odd bit of child-raising? (Odd truly being the operative word...)

No?

How about some Halloween pictures...

Man-show kept shouting, "I'm scary Buzz Lightyear!"

Buzz Lightyear isn't scary, of course, but it really annoyed Berry – and isn't that the #1 motivation for any little brother to persist with something?

Buzz and Ariel worked out how to get lots of prizes at the preschool Fall Festival...

...and neither of them kept their costumes kosher for more than ten minutes. Buzz wrenched off his hat (hood? hat?) and his hero gloves, and Ariel ditched her tiara, which was all the more annoying because it was special and sold separately. When I found "I paid good money for that" on the tip of my tongue, I knew it was time to take a deep, deep breath and try not to turn into my parents.

No offense, parents.

. . .

Pumpkins. Everywhere.

2010-10-31T21:28:00.006-05:00

This year we went to two pumpkin patches.

We went with Berry's preschool group to the pumpkin patch at the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer, same as last year. And this year we also went over to the one at First Presbyterian in New Orleans... it's on Claiborne and not especially fancy, but it has a special place in my heart.

In October 2001, three months after I left Australia, I got a birthday letter from my mum along with a picture that I had drawn for her when I was five. I was struck with such homesickness that I had a bit of a falling-apart right there in the attic bedroom. Wanting to cheer me up, Nathan took me out to the First Presbyterian pumpkin patch. I'd never been to a pumpkin patch before – so it worked, and I still love it.

The kids did not love what is inside a pumpkin. The picture above shows the first and only time Berry dipped the spoon in. Man-show's expression could conservatively be called pained.

They were, however, pleased with the end result. The jack-o-lantern above was our first... he looked slightly tired by the day before Halloween, so I carved another (below) to look more sprightly on the day.

The kids loved them both.

Skills

2010-10-29T07:52:00.006-05:00

Man-show sniffs the air: "I smell a carnivore."

He would have been so handy in the Mesozoic Era...

. . .

Private talk

2010-10-12T17:26:00.000-05:00

"Mommy," Berry says, "Today I had a long little private talk to David."

"What did you talk to him about?"

"About him being mean to me. I said how would he feel if I was being mean to him. How would that feel."

. . . . . .

Unfortunately, I think David might've had a crush on Berry. His "mean" behaviour consists of pretending to be a wolf and chasing her around the playground, and using a crazy voice whenever they talk.

I guess Miss Assertive just torpedoed the crush...

I hate this plane and ALSO!

2010-10-10T19:07:00.001-05:00

I just picked up my iPhone to text Dawn and instead I stumbled on this hastily-entered list of appalling things my frustrated two-year-old said on our four flights back from Australia, now three weeks ago. Oh, I had completely forgotten!

Unadorned:

"I HATE THIS PLANE AND ALSO I HATE MOU-MOU!"

"Hey everyone! BOOTY!"

"You stupid, raisin!"

"You stupid, mommy!"

"Can I get out the plane? Can I get out the plane? Can I get out the plane RIGHT NOW?"

(Mou-mou is Mickey Mouse.)

(Mommy is both amused and aghast...)

(Disclaimer: "Stupid" was his first attempted Shock Word; not approved in our house.)

. . .

In which I find success

2010-09-30T21:23:00.000-05:00

Tonight I found Man-show climbing dangerously on the dining room table. I caught myself and instead of getting mad, I asked him whether he was bored and if he'd like to show me his truck book.

So we sat together on the couch for twenty minutes perusing, in great detail, First 100 Machines. When we finished he said, "The end! Thank you mama!"

For a little, precious while, I am free of mother-guilt.

. . .

Escape

2010-09-30T10:08:00.001-05:00

Man-show's new strategy for avoiding sleep: at high speed, he jumps off the bed, shouts, "I be right back!" and vanishes down the darkened hall on his new kick-scooter.

. . .

Far away

2010-09-27T01:05:00.006-05:00

Nathan's been in Afghanistan for more than three months now (much as I try not to keep track).

This is one of the pictures Berry drew while we were in Brisbane. She imagined herself, little man and her Daddy standing together next to our house.

She had a bit of a cry that day.

"I'm just homesick," she said. "Also I'm Daddysick."

. . .

While I wasn't sleeping

2010-09-26T00:42:00.000-05:00

I owe this blog a lot of posts, but wow does it take a long time to unpack two months' worth of luggage for three people, and to sort out two months of mail and a kids'-birthday-mountain of presents... and don't even get me started on the jet lag.

I did, however, find a few minutes to order in two of the three foods the kids loved best in Australia – Milo and SAOs. Ten packets of SAOs, actually, probably because I was ordering at 1am.

Weetbix will have to wait for another day. And so will the blog posts.

. . .

Not enough

2010-09-13T15:38:00.110-05:00

Oh Sydney, stop having so many things to do.

I can't get to them all, and it frustrates me, and makes me think up wild schemes like staying for a month, or immigrating.

Once again we barely scratched the surface. Wave-chasing and sandcastles; fish-n-chips at Manly Wharf, which turned out to be enough seafood to feed a footy team; a sunshiney ferry trip and the Opera House in all its glory...

...and Taronga Park Zoo. We didn't even get to the zebras and tigers, an oversight Berry is unlikely to forgive or forget.

We did see the snakes though, appropriately under the tank stand...

...and the seals and the penguins, the wombat (just one, and ornery at that)

... and the monkeys and the pelicans...

...two angry emus, some wallabies, one koala, three giraffes and many kangaroos (lazy, don't let anyone tell you otherwise)...

...the peacocks and the elephants were a major hit. Later I asked Berry her favourite part of the zoo.

"The ice cream!" she said.

Feeling crestfallen that I could've just taken her down the street for a Paddlepop with the same effect, I asked more pointedly: "What was your favourite animal at the zoo?"

"Oh!" she said. "The koawallabies!"

(That, my friends, is how new species come to be.)

There are no pictures of my blissful spa time at the famous Missy's Place, the fantastic dinners we did have, nor the shops and restaurants I wanted try but didn't quite get to...

...but we'll be back. Don't make me resort to wild schemes.

. . .

Does not play well with others (sometimes)

2010-09-11T01:12:00.000-05:00

Little bear has Man-show's toys.

Oh wait. Nope.

[Scrabble scrabble scrabble grab.]

Little bear had Man-show's toys.

Sigh.

. . .

Bad Blogger: Chaos Edition

2010-09-10T03:31:00.006-05:00

Usually when you have a blog, and you go to the other side of the world on holiday, you write a little something every day to share the wonders and adventures of the place you're in.

I prefer to become paralysed by imagined pressure, failing to write anything at all until a good 30 days in; then I try, unwisely, to unload it all at once.

Here, I've made the unloading even more random by uploading my pictures in no particular order and being unable to shuffle them. I'm going to just write stuff underneath them, and hope you stick with me.

Good luck to us all. Let's begin.

First of all, I love being home so very much. Australia is such a novelty – which is sad in one way because it must mean I don't fully belong anymore, but happy because everything old is new again. The shine of it! Kookaburras laughing when I wake up early. Magpies singing as I walk to the gym. Lemon gum and eucalyptus on the air, Weetbix for breakfast and Australian news on the TV. Did I mention the amazing coffee?? Yes, yes I did.

My "Australia radar" malfunctioned at first, going into overdrive. See, back home (which home? America-home) I have a constant scan going on for all sightings and mentions of Australia and Australian things. I didn't realise this until I got here and my brain kept shouting, "Hey! Hey! An Australian accent! Hey! They just talked about Brisbane on the news! Hey! That's Powderfinger on the radio! Hey! An Australian flag! Hey! A koala sign! Cuuuute!" I've become accustomed to it after six weeks, so that I don't spin out anytime someone mentions Melbourne or Milo, but the fun endures.

You know what else is new again? My friends. I have connected and reconnected with dear friends, and I just love them so much I want to take them home with me. It's unreasonable that I can't just drag Australia and America up alongside each other. Why does continental drift take so long, and go in the wrong directions?

Here above: Kristy and Gerrod. I'd actually never met them before this day at Brother Espresso, but they shared a flat with my brother and sister-in-law in London so we were meant-to-be lifelong friends. I'm pretty sure Gerrod knows when my grandparents' anniversary is and how to spell my sister's middle name and stuff like that, so – we're tight. Also, they're funny (the picture at the top of this post? that's me losing my composure next to Gerrod for at least the fourth time).

Here's Kirsty (above), my best friend from Grade 8. I went a whole 19 years without seeing her until we discovered each other on Facebook last year (kudos, Facebook!) We've been scrambling to make up for lost time ever since, and it's a joy.

Kirsty's little boy was born the same week as Man-show, so our kids get on like a house on fire. Without the kids, we went to an extra-special-fancy girls' night out with Jodi, who made our trio in Grade 9. Neither of us had seen her in fully 20 years, and six hours out together barely scratched the surface.

That's Jodi's death-by-chocolate... I blame the borrowed camera for being bad at close range – not me. It's never me.

I have been going to some great restaurants here, that reminds me. And did I tell you? I went to the incredible Valentino Retrospective at the Gallery of Modern Art. It was an amazing exhibit; seeing those iconic gowns together in one space was inspiring. Berry and Mika were keen to find the most-princessy dresses – there was a heated debate over which of them would "get to wear" the pink caped evening ensemble from Winter 1990/91...

Photography was super-strictly forbidden inside the gallery, so you'll have to take my word for all that. But here are the girls standing by the V.

And with that, I've worn myself out.

More randomness soon, featuring animals, the Opera House, midnight at McDonald's, fairy bread, and how awesome it is to see my family.

. . .

South!

2010-09-08T06:37:00.002-05:00

If you look really, really hard, you can see the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge through the plane window.

I took the kids down for five festive days and (when I don't need a Panadol and a sleep so desperately) I'll show you some more pictures. And words, since people seem to like blogs to have words...

. . .

Optimist

2010-08-25T03:07:00.004-05:00

Dad lifted Man-show up on to the giant antique McCormick-Deering that lives up the back paddock.

Man-show grasped the steering wheel with both hands.

"Okay!" he said, "Now push."

. . .

I'm not obsessed

2010-08-18T00:28:00.002-05:00

Gallery of Modern Art : South Brisbane

After swearing all my life that I never would, I started drinking coffee a couple of months after Man-show was born.

I thought it was simply a way to stay upright. In Australia – where coffee really is coffee – I've realised it's soooooo much more....

Brother Espresso, downtown Brisbane

Merlo espresso beans : vintage Bushells jar : my parents' place

Noop : Gumdale

Three Monkeys : West End

Don't try this at home

2010-08-09T03:01:00.002-05:00

We survived. More than 8660 miles, I survived wrangling two kids in a plane – well, three planes – by myself.

Aside from three low points, the trip to Australia was about as decent as I could have asked for.

Low point #1: trying to get a place on the very necessary shuttle from the domestic terminal of LAX to the international terminal of LAX at 9.30pm, shuffling along a narrow traffic island besieged by blaring traffic with the stroller, the carry-on luggage, a weeping Berry and fifty other passengers. And the shuttle swept past the stop without so much as a pause.

Low point #2: on the flight to Auckland, two of our three in-flight entertainment units malfunctioned. Sadly the entertainment unit is essential for entertaining a toddler on a 14-hour flight, but the crew did try... they got it fixed after about eight hours. Man-show slept well which was a real bonus. Berry, not so much.

Low point #3 (the worst): the trip from Auckland to Brisbane. Man-show was really, really over the flying. He didn't shout or cry, but he was bored out of his head and started asking "Are we there yet? Can I get out?" on continuous loop starting about 15 minutes into the trip. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to kick the seat in front of him. Wasn't it put there specifically for kicking? I basically had to lie on his legs. Uhhhh.

But we're here, we're done, and we don't have to do it again... until late September. Heaven help us.

All mine

2010-07-29T10:22:00.000-05:00

In my daydreams, these dresses belong with me.

In reality, between the oil and ink of my studio and the chaos of my kid-raising life, they belong nowhere near me.

But one day – one day – I will meander along cobbled European streets in a dress just like the one on the right. Mark my words.

. . .

Bad cat

2010-07-27T06:44:00.000-05:00

This is wicked Pilly.

She used to be our cat, and then she became Grandpa Tom's cat some time after Hurricane Katrina. Tom needed a cat, Pilly needed an owner tolerant of miscreant pets – it was a match made in heaven.

That's Nathan's arm she's biting. No idea what the offense was. Knowing Pilly, perhaps none.

. . .

Sparkly!

2010-07-25T10:45:00.000-05:00

"Mommy," Berry asks, "Who is that lady on our fridge? The one with the red dress?"

. . .

Absence

2010-07-21T14:12:00.001-05:00

Six weeks down. We won't talk about how long there is to go...

. . .

Inconsiderate

2010-07-16T07:25:00.003-05:00

"Mommy," Berry says, "you know what I really don't like about birds? Is when they DIE, and lie down on the road."

Dead birds have such a nerve.

. . .

Mmmmmojitos

2010-07-06T16:18:00.000-05:00

I made these mojitos from scratch – simmered the simple syrup, squeezed the limes, even picked the mint from our garden – and they were fabulous.

I didn't drink all four of them myself, but if I hadn't had guests I might've been tempted. Nathan is usually chief mojito maker, but it looks like this is one of the valuable skills I'm gaining in his absence.

Cheers!

. . .

Not the Chosen One

2010-06-18T20:04:00.003-05:00

Berry: Mummy, what if you were a doctor! That would be GREAT if you were a doctor.

Me: Oh! Why?

Berry: If you were a doctor, you would need to go Afghanistan and Daddy could stay home! And I love Daddy."

. . .

Ten years ago

2010-05-25T19:15:00.002-05:00

It's ten years to the day since I met Nathan on the way to Italy. I've written about it here...

. . .

Two!

2010-05-17T16:57:00.002-05:00

Man-show turned two on Saturday. Two!!

Berry very seriously helped me organise a little Thomas The Train-themed party for him. In the process, I forced myself to start saying Thomas the Train instead of Thomas The Tank Engine, which is what I grew up with.

Our out-of-town guests were Grandpa, Tine, cousin Parker and Woof-Woof (the dog; not his real name) and Man-show was beside himself with excitement despite being woefully sick with a ferocious cold.

"Oh my DOSH!" he shouted when he opened his Handy Manny laptop. "OH MY DOSH!"

It was all pretty marvellous, really.

. . .

That was close

2010-05-11T15:27:00.003-05:00

Turns out dragging your feet on your U.S. citizenship application has its advantages. Exhibit A: see above.

Clicked the little box that said "Not a United States citizen" and all the hassle went away. Ahhh.

Brush with the Texas legal system, anyone?

. . .

Well, THAT was unpleasant...

2010-05-10T06:59:00.001-05:00

Can I just mention: this is what I looked like exactly two years ago.

It's not right, is it. It's just not right.

. . .

Hello, my lovely....

2010-05-09T09:55:00.003-05:00

Look! It's my extremely marvellous mother's day present!

I also got breakfast in bed from Nathan and Berry, and a mimosa which I managed to splash on the sheets while I was admiring the card little Man-show had drawn for me. Sadness.

Berry was extremely excited to have an Occasion and she as she cosied up next to me in bed she said "I'm loving this mother's day with you!" at least three times.

After a while I asked, "Do you want me to come downstairs while you eat breakfast?"

"No, you take your time," she said, all sixteen-like. "It's your day, so you don't have to do anything." She paused. "Except put us in our jarmies. And put us in the bath."

Another pause.

"And clean up."

. . .

To my mum

2010-05-08T11:08:00.004-05:00

It's Mother's Day already in Australia, because they're a day ahead on that side of the world. So this is my "early" Happy Mother's Day to my mum, who truly is as kind and warm and capable and clever and selfless as they come (with a neat wicked streak, which I consider absolutely essential to Not Being Boring).

I only hope I can give my kids the kind of complete and unconditional love that she showed all of us.

We really are lucky.

{The photo above was taken at the beach with Nanna and Pa when Mum was pregnant with me (although you wouldn't know it); the family portrait at top was taken before it had occurred to my parents to add three boys to the family. I'm the toddler; the baby is Kath.}

. . .

Cinco!

2010-05-05T12:53:00.002-05:00

Tilapia soft tacos, radish and lime salad and salsa verde. I felt quite proud of myself.

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

. . .

Please Be My Bridesmaid

2010-05-03T14:09:00.000-05:00

A sweet girl bought four of these Bridesmaid cards from my Pepperina Press Etsy shop today. She said she'd had her eye on them for more than a year!

Motivated by her enthusiasm, I've started putting more of these retro cards in the shop again (I stopped for a while, feeling a bit flat-out with custom letterpress work for Sweet Olive Press – but I'm super-organised now!)

Hooray!

. . .

So... don't say G'day?

2010-05-02T15:55:00.000-05:00

"Can you stop talking in Australian ways?" Berry sighed. "I'm fed up with that."

Ahem.

. . .

{Picture of Berry tackling a model wombat at Sydney Wildlife World, a full year ago.}

Black and white

2010-04-29T10:00:00.003-05:00

Here's a little save-the-date I created for a black-and-white themed 40th birthday party... a vintage typography-focused design, flat printed on 4-baronial size cards.

In case you're looking at the date and thinking "um, too late for a save-the-date", these were delivered to the client about seven weeks ago. I am sometimes just that slow at posting photos...

. . .

So fresh and so clean

2010-04-28T09:46:00.000-05:00

Tell me if this isn't the most immaculate petrol pump you've ever seen.

I think they must have unveiled this the very morning I used it, because I was back a few days later and it was predictably greyish with grime.

I was so pleased to use a clean pump though. Perhaps unreasonably pleased.

. . .

* Ok Americans: gas pump.

Sunflower + Slate

2010-04-23T16:33:00.003-05:00

New: residency graduation invitations for the Medical University of South Carolina – a clean, modern design in slate and sunflower. If you click on the image above, you'll get a better look at it.

This is the kind of work I do when I'm not at the press (or, let's face it, trying to wrangle these children along the path to civilisation).

I especially loved this project because it gave me an excuse to talk to my BFF (haha! I've never used that before!) Pauline on the phone three times in one day. Unheard of! She's a physician at MUSC so we felt entitled to make multiple work-related calls.

. . .

{Dates have been digitally altered for privacy!}

A bit of art

2010-04-15T09:07:00.002-05:00

Man-show is drawing Bob the Builder, Charlie & Lola, Mr Tom and a meat-eating dinosaur. That about sums up his world, really...

. . .

Galloping

2010-04-12T17:13:00.004-05:00

I just discovered little Man-show stark naked, dangerously astride the out-of-bounds Radio Flyer rocking horse, waving his sister's Tinkerbell alarm clock in the air and shouting, "MOMMY! GOT PINKYBELLE! I SHOW YOU!"

Heart-stopping is an understatement.

. . .

I am an old-photo addict

2010-04-05T09:37:00.003-05:00

Mum says my Easter present is that she's scanning in long-lost never-seen slides of our family in the late 1970s and emailing them to me.

I feel like all my Christmases have come at once.

Hop hop hop

2010-04-04T11:01:00.000-05:00

We had an egg hunt in the courtyard. Berry informed her daddy, "You have to let children go first, if you have children!"

Happy Easter, everyone...

. . .

And wildlife.

2010-03-28T11:17:00.001-05:00

Okay, here is Berry's nativity scene, as promised in my last post... the chicken is lower left, the "stunk" is lower middle and the squirrels are those non-descript little striped things at lower right. She was unhappy with Joseph's nose so she scribbled it out. She was very upset that Mary turned out "messed up and scribblish" so she made all kinds of angry little extraneous additions. It appears, too, that Mary has a cape (the blue thing that looks like a mohawk is a cape) and a level of anatomical detail that might displease some Sunday School teachers. I am tickled.

Away in a manger...

2010-03-23T07:04:00.001-05:00

Berry has just drawn a nativity scene. Gathered around the Baby Jesus are a chicken, a squirrel and "a stunk".

A stunk is a skunk.

This is pretty much my favourite thing ever.

{When I can sneak it away from her to take a picture, I'll post the photo here.}

Excuse me???

2010-03-19T17:54:00.003-05:00

I've just discovered Man-man standing on a chair at my Mac, tracking Amazon orders, playing a little Owl City on iTunes, and "ironing" a dollar bill with my mouse.

{*A technical note: this photo is from four months ago. Back then he was just reading the Washington Post. Nothing fancy. He's since learned to multi-task.}

I have confidence in, confidence in meeeee...

2010-03-09T13:27:00.004-06:00

Berry (who, as a reminder, is four) was sitting at the table just now singing – actually kind of bellowing – "I AM SIXTEEN GOING ON SEVENTEEN" for the 86th time and I couldn't hear myself think and in frustration I started, "You are so––" and in my split-second pause to think of a non-destructive term, she supplied: "––amazing?"

Okay.

. . .

Oh boy

2010-02-07T09:26:00.000-06:00

"I fell."

My 20-month-old says this about 70 times per day, and he's always right.

***

Oh LOOK!

2010-02-05T10:46:00.005-06:00

You know I was complaining I had no photos that showed the really sad "before" state of our kitchen when we moved in? Well, I found them!

Before Part 1 (and please appreciate the true awfulness of the suspended microwave):

After:

Before Part 2 (featuring a tiny Berry in flight):

And after:

Yay!

...and After!!

2010-02-03T14:47:00.002-06:00

At last, the new kitchen!!!! New granite benchtops, super-deep under-counter sink, travertine wall tiles, removal of ugly wallpaper, paint in latte tones, spiffy pull-out Moen tap (faucet, Americans), Bosch cooktop and oven. I haven't even figured out the 800-odd features of the last two, but I gather it's something along the lines of: if I leave them unattended I might come home to find they've baked me a layer cake and set the table for dinner.

A little reminder of what it looked like before:

That's the old stove where 9 meant hot, 6 meant tepid and 1 meant nuclear. And that code varied between hotplates, just to add to the sense of cooking "adventure". I don't miss it at all.

And here are more after pictures {if you click on the images, they'll show up larger}:

The kitchen already had custom-built hardwood cabinets, so we left them completely alone. But everything else – brand spanking.

Here's the view from my sunny office through to the kitchen:

And here's a gratuitous close-up of my favourite tea towels in the whole world – "Borrowed Spoons" from the super-talented Heather of Skinny laMinx:

After almost two months of kitchen chaos, I am one happy, happy girl...

{the letterpress and the hedgehog room}

It's time

If I don't get that stuff done this week, the anti-Christmas indictment sticks. It's ON.

. . .

Speed

Parenting skills

Pre-coffee, I hear myself disciplining my children: "Stop it, both of you! Watch some SportsCenter and BEHAVE!"Feel free to tell me how I'm destroying America.

. . .

Sticks and stones

We'll need to Talk.

Sounds like serendipity

Lost in Translator

I tackled a my first cake recipe in German, with trusty Google Translator. I left out one letter, and a key step became "experimental cows".

Birthday girl

Thy neighbour's bike...

Oh my

The little boy next door is calling Berry's name over and over, and lifting his backyard slide up over his head. Berry is standing on the other side of the fence twirling her hair and giggling. I'm seeing flashes of a scary, scary future.

Really.

Language barrier

Any time you tell Manshow something he doesn't want to hear, or obey, he puts up his hand and says, "I only speak German."

From our balcony on Saturday morning...

Like magic

Big

Perfect

Narrow

Not cutting it.

Freedom

To market, to market

Ummm....

Manshow, hearing Taio Cruz in the cafe: "Who's this? Is this Bob Dylan?"

. . .

Little 'Strayan

Manshow just said looked up at me and said, "G'day mama!" ...so he will be getting extra treats today.

Don't tell Berry.

. . .

Zoom

I just passed my US Forces (German) drivers license test! Unleash me all legal on the roads!

. . .

Walk the dinosaur

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

Win!

Got coffee

in Gerrrrrmany (that's how Berry says it)

History

Galveston

Impulse

Sticks & stones

Space

Mountains of things

Wedding fever? Who, us?

Priorities

Berry explains her independent outfit choice: "Mom. It's not just about looking pretty. It's about how it feels."

. . .

Demise

"I don't know what happened to Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters," Berry says.

"Maybe they died. Maybe they fell in a hole. Maybe they got hit by a car..."

{thoughtful pause}

"Maybe Cinderella cut them."

. . .

Distress

I found Berry sobbing in the bathtub because "the German people don't know who Disney Princesses are."Daddy told her this.

I will be having stern words with Daddy.

. . .

Krewe of Thoth 2011

Dance!

Small

Playing tourist

Moving house (to Germany)

Sucré = sweeeeet

Buzz

Dream big

Small story

Educator of the Year

Thanksgiving {belated is understating it}

A little fox

But no thanks

I brought Berry the remains of her hot chocolate and asked, "Do you want your marshmallows before I throw this away?" And she said, "No, you can eat them if you want."

Temptation by slightly-preloved marshmallow is not in my repertoire, but I appreciate the thought....

. . .

Vanilla Twilight?

Pre-coffee, I hear myself disciplining my children: "Stop it, both of you! Watch some SportsCenter and BEHAVE!"

Feel free to tell me how I'm destroying America.

I tackled a my first cake recipe in German, with trusty Google Translator.

I left out one letter, and a key step became "experimental cows".

The little boy next door is calling Berry's name over and over, and lifting his backyard slide up over his head. Berry is standing on the other side of the fence twirling her hair and giggling.

I'm seeing flashes of a scary, scary future.

Berry explains her independent outfit choice:

"Mom. It's not just about looking pretty. It's about how it feels."

I found Berry sobbing in the bathtub because "the German people don't know who Disney Princesses are."

Daddy told her this.