Grateful

Blogger mate Miriam over at Out n’About in her beautiful Valentine’s Day  post suggested that we should lie in bed each morning and contemplate and be grateful for what we have. Sorry Miriam I disagree, I lie in bed and wonder which body part will fail today. When my shoulders ache too much from blog reading on the phone I tentatively drop both feet to the floor (my wise old aunt told me once that we should always put both feet to the floor in case one has stopped working in the night). All is well, both feet work. I … Continue reading Grateful

Well that went off with a bang

I usually do the planning for our trips and Woody says “Just surprise me!” Whenever we’re chatting with mates or newfound friends I note the places mentioned and ‘Heart’ the campsites on WikiCamps, gee I wish they’d give us a colour system so I know which are true favourites or someone else’s recommendation, anyway I took Woody to an ammunition dump for our anniversary. Yep, an ammunition dump, how romantic is that? What the hell was I thinking? Most women would choose a 5 star resort or hotel and break out the glad rags. Not me, I was so busy … Continue reading Well that went off with a bang

An Old Favourite

We drive south through the ranges and on to an old favourite the Jondaryan Woolshed on the Darling Downs. As we pull in Woody notices that we’ve lost the end from our pole carrier (tube) and we’ve lost half our annexe poles and one awning deflapper, about $300 worth, bugger. I’ll bet some Queensland bloke has rushed home to his missus and said “Look what I’ve found!” We pat the animals, cook Kilcoy steaks on a new griddle and the sun sets warm and late over the paddocks. The smell of sheep shit lingers in the air. Aah we’ll sleep … Continue reading An Old Favourite

Telling it like it is

Earlier this winter… Now that we’ve been away from the coast for a few weeks the large range in daily temperatures is playing havoc with our skin. Today is our anniversary and Woody wakes me with a kiss then recoils shouting “Shit you look like a fucking clown!” Suddenly I remember… waking in the night with sore lips, groping in the dark for lip balm and smothering my lips, then noticing the lipstick smell but having quelled the pain just falling asleep. Woody was right I do look like a clown, with an inch of bright red lipstick around my … Continue reading Telling it like it is

Damn and doggone

2013 – We had planned to spend a week ambling around the Victorian Goldfields looking for good free camps before meeting up with friends in the historic town of Clunes:- Imminent bushfires prevent us from free camping for the first few days and on the Saturday when we are just starting to relax we pull into Castlemaine and realise that most of the streets have angle parking. We find a perfect parallel park and while I have my head buried in the Camps Guide, Woody reverses back to make more room for other motorists, there is a sickening crunch and … Continue reading Damn and doggone

When Things Go Wrong – Just Cook!

We arrived at Nullarbor Roadhouse in the afternoon, it was 40 degrees or thereabouts, there was phone reception (at last) and our friend learnt that her house 2000kms behind us, had been robbed. We cooked while we formulated a plan. Up in tropical north Queensland our mate’s van door locked jamming wife Elle inside for three hours. We cooked and a curry was ready by the time that Elle was freed by the locksmith. And then this little doosie from Central Queensland in 2016: “Because of the big wet we decide to forgo our trip up to Finch Hatton in … Continue reading When Things Go Wrong – Just Cook!

Wet T Shirts

Camped in Rollingstone, Qld we had a shower of rain during the night. (Readers please note: a shower in tropical north Queensland seems to be the equivalent of Melbourne’s annual rainfall in a matter of ten short minutes). We raced outside to drop the clears on the annexe and by the time we’d finished unrolling and zipping the rain had almost stopped. All we could do was stand and laugh because I was in a T shirt and Woody in his undies and there we were soaked to the skin and dripping, just a couple of drowned old farts. Continue reading Wet T Shirts