Camp as a row of tents

I did it.

I am now a man...officially.

I went camping.

Hilarity ensued.

Me, four girls, fun.

I hadn't been camping in over 10 years, and I was a failure then...pathetically attempting to raise a tent in the rain, chucking a large chunk of beef mince on a warm hot plate over a lukewarm camp fire in a limp attempt at making burritos...and then giving up and eating a packet of muesli bars instead.

I had declared myself a 'non-outdoors' person...give me a stapler or a filing cabinet or a couch and TV and I am in my comfort zone...give me sunshine, blue skies, some pegs and an unfurled tent...and I am LOST...just like in that TV show...Two and a Half Men...they make me laugh...

But this time I made sure to bring my secret weapon...my sure-fire ingredient for a recipe for success...Kirilie Blythman.

Man...that woman must have been a frontier-woman in a past life...she can build a fire, cook food, pitch a tent, sleep on the ground...not to say the other ladies didn't pull their weight...they did...with aplomb...although we forgot to bring the plums on this trip...but I too flourished under these conditions...well, at least I claim that I did.

We spent three days relaxing in the sun, sitting round a campfire at night...of course...to get to this heavenly plain we did have to traverse a rocky beginning...our initial destination was the Grampians...that slut of the Victorian outdoors...the Grampians National Park has no booking system for camping grounds...I rang them...spoke to a koala and a cockatoo and was transferred to someone in charge...who advised me that if you rock up on Good Friday...earlyish...you should be fine as the bulk of people will be coming later on Friday and early on Saturday...so we rocked up about 11am at this National Park...to find it completely effing full!! Three hours we drove to get there...and then were told that a camping ground in the park might have some spots left...as there is apparently no way to tell when a campsite is full...even though you need individual permits to camp...but they said drive there and check it out...and if there's a spot...decamp and drive back to get a permit. The lady said it was a bit of a hike...it was at least an hour on a dirt road that consisted of more twists and curves than an old woman's spine and more rocks than a packet of Pop Rocks...incredible! We get to the site...and guess what...not one free campsite...quell surprise! The nerve of it was that even if there was a site...we'd have to drive the hour back over the rocks...get the permit...then drive back again!

So we gave up and drove to Horsham...a further hour...and then to Helena's holiday house in Toolondo...the mythical Londo...which is the perfect place to get away from everything whilst still maintaining a VCR, a record player and mobile phone reception (only if you're with Telstra...and only when you're on the roof)

But we scarcely used these trappings of modern man...we camped in a vacant clearing and lived off the land...well...on the land...we didn't harvest anything or eat bark and berries...we ate marshmallows and Shapes...but we roughed it...and loved every minute of it.

We read about The Courtship of Peggy McCoy...by the same illustrious author of Down on the Farm with Grover...we learnt about Il bacio...a phrase that can only be whispered suggestively and sensually...we found our nemeses during Uno Matrix...we warmed up our footy legs for the next round of Auskick...we learnt that life is very much like a Frisbee...you think you've got all the time in the world and then flubadadum...the Frisbee drops out of the air and you've missed it...poetic...we found out that kookaburras like cheese...and are willing to attack for it...much like the cheese itself...they are Strong and Bitey...we found out that you don't really need to move in the backseat when you're cushioned by 4 floor mats, 4 sleeping bags, blankets, wine and a 25L water container slowly leaking all over your ass in a 6 hour car trip.

And...like a football kicked by Rachel's right foot...the trip ended too soon and in a pile of dead branches and leaves...possibly infested with spiders. C'est la vie...

But I know it won't be long before the siren song of Londo haunts my dreams once more...tempting, taunting...beckoning me back to the place where pillows are wet with cold but hearts are warm with love, friendship and possibly indigestion.

R.I.P. Sarah

15 years young.

She found the wheels of Dad's car too soon.

She will be missed...kind of...she was an outside cat that never really got much attention...except from the neighbour cats...she was like catnip to them...not a Japanese cat or some kind of Geisha cat...but rather like Cheetara from Thundercats...gorgeous and feisty...I'm guessing...I've never looked at Sarah that way...that would be totally inappropriate and taboo...

Too soon, too soon.

Forget-me-not

What do you do on the birthday for the brother who has everything!?

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Forget it!


Happy Birthday Unky Tone...a day late!

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Here is a picture of a puppy...

Isn't he/she/it cute?