You know the you are part of a cool event when it's a school fundraiser and the first song the band plays is 'Brick in the Wall' by Pink Floyd! "We don't need no education!!!"
The theme was 'The Roaring Twenties', the venue was the new school hall, the school was Kinma where our boys used to go. I was MC and auctioneer and Gav was drumming in the o so spunky band. Everyone was dressed to the nines in 20's style - lots of peacock feathers and pearls, top hats and feather boas - gorgeous! Just have a look at Saucy Sally, Vicki the Vixen and DJ Bee's Knee's in the background...

It was fabulous fun to debut the new hair (or lack thereof) do....I got lots of great comments and people patting my fuzz!
Gav started off offering to help the band organise a sound system a couple of weeks ago, and somehow ended up as their drummer - and after only two rehearsals together I have to say - THEY ROCKED!! Tight and groovin' with really interesting, eclectic and fun song choices, us girls couldn't stop dancing (the blisters on my feet this morning are testimony to their musical prowess!).

One of the most inspiring parts of the whole evening was the plethora of art on display. Made by both kids and grown-ups and combinations of the two, there were lights made of sheet music, a poem tree, funky mobiles, great photography, paintings and an incredible chandelier constructed 'with love' out of over 200 plastic bottles.
Being a crafty art lover I am now infused with new ideas and warmed through with respect for the creativity of others. Even though our kids no longer attend the school, it is an amazing community in so many ways and I am grateful to still be a part of the Kinma experience. It is wonderful what can happen when passionate, creative people get together with a common goal, some glue, string and glitter!!
Congratulations all on a spectacular event!

We have had a family of swallows form on our balcony. First it was two - busily flying back and forth from the river with mouthfuls of mud, carefully and cleverly constructing their nest on a tiny ledge near the roof. Then searching far and wide for miniscule feathers with which to line the nest to make it soft for the eggs which were layed (3) and soon the tiny little baby swallows (hang on while I google the correct term - got told off by a farmer the other day for using loose terminology when talking about cabbage worms - sorry - caterpillars!) otherwise known as hatchlings, fledglings or nestlings (what a cute word "my little nestling" aaawwww...) which emerged.
These gorgeous babies were all fluff and gigantic mouths which the parents spent all day filling! We have some great shots of the babies in the nest but they are on my other camera and I can't seem to locate the cord to transfer them onto the computer....so we'll all have to wait....anyway where was I...oh that's right - yesterday the boys and I were sitting on the balcony eating lunch when one of the babies emerged 'on wing'!!! It was soooooo exciting - we all watched eyeswidetryingnototmoveamuscle...You need to understand these birds have become part of the family - we have been privy to their whole journey from whoa to, finally yesterday - GO!
The small swallow (maybe a teenager by now?) flew in short bursts from nest to fence where it sat panting for a minute while it's parents obviously gave it a flying 'demo' and then urged it to come with them for a spot of winged action. They all flew together and such joy I have rarely felt beholding this feathered family taking it's deeply genetic and loving steps in life. But then...wait for it....after the teenager had sat on the wire for a bit to regain it's composure (and maybe check it's hair or squeeze a zit), the parents flew around it hassling it to go off on it's own! And after it did, they took off, back to the everyday swallow duties of collecting food and catching up for coffee. :)
I saw lots of metaphors for human parenting in this whole adventure with the swallows. We really are no different. We work hard for our kids, we nurture, protect and provide for them when they need all their energy for growing, we help them learn by showing them how to do stuff and involving them in our activities, and then we trust in them to live well. I saw no swallow school anywhere in this equation.....this photo is of the teen chillin' in between flying lessons....and I have to say, that whole part about me trying to find the right terms is quite funny when you realise that I have written 'sparrow' in this post's title. Dur.

Owwww - That looks like it hurts!

We got a phonecall this morning from our neighbour that her builder Dennis had put an angle grinder through his knee and could we give him a hand please? So armed with sweet tea, rescue remedy, panadol and a snake bite bandage (we need to update our medical supply box), Flex and I took off on our rescue mission. Dennis was in good spirits if a little pale and was happy to have someone to talk to as the shock was probably starting to settle into his body.
After several hours at the local hospital we finally got to watch the wound being stitched up by a lovely English doctor - 5 perfect stitches. Watching the anaesthetic go in was the most traumatic part....ouch. I am sure Dennis will agree!
On our way back Dennis was so apologetic that he had 'wasted our day' - No way! This is the beauty of remaining open to learning at all times! We learnt about shock management, hypoglycaemia, mushroom farming, what 'audiology' means, wound care, how the people at Mad magazine view the world, patience (waiting, waiting), vending machine maths and spelling(!), that you should stitch up a wound starting in the middle and most importantly, how easy and staisfying it is to help someone out.
Just another funschooling day down on the freedom farm....

Yes, my hair is now officially gone! (Well the ponytail is still in my room, but not attached to my head anymore!). It feels amazing. I have swum without having drippy hair afterwards! My head feels weightless and free and breezy. My neck feels longer. My fuzzy scalp feels great to tough and my hat now velcroes to my head.
It was a wonderful way to do the big shave...last night, a few glasses of wine for courage, my eldest son snipping off the ponytail, wonderful women friends chanting and singing, my auntie and cousin, husband, children and friends all having a turn at playing hairdresser!
Ananda from the ashram said that they believe hair holds the karma of a person, and cutting it all off refreshes the soul. I must say, I feel somehow new, and very ready to start this less hirsute stage of my life..... and quite relieved that I don't have a weird oddball shaped head!

Oh Mary Poppins! You are a delight! I do wish I were just like you - full of witty asides, smart comebacks, heartfelt conviction, the charm of an english rose and cute button up boots. I want it to be a jolly holiday with Mary every day!!!

We all went to see the musical 'Mary Poppins' yesterday at the gorgeous olde worlde Capitol Theatre. I cried alot, not so much at the sad bits, but moreso at the joyful iconic moments when my cup of joy literally runnethed over...when Ms Poppins' shadow flies off into the sky, when she walks up the stairs with that perfectly straight back...when I realised the 'broken' family was on it's way to becoming well again....a great reminder to listen to children, make up words more often, enjoy the magic in each moment and don't forget, a spoonful of sugar really does help the medicine go down...I love you Mary Poppins!
Also went to the most amazing new playground in Darling Harbour - fat slides, squishy bouncy ground, super high climbing web, adjustable water course and a Guylian chocolate shop right next door! Practically Perfect!
PS Shaving my head on saturday!

And now, back on the farm, we are preparing for the annual Country Fair on saturday...we are entering our eggs, herbs, jams, flowers, cordial, art and photography in the 'competition' and also running an art stall as well as doing a lemon butter making demo!! If anyone is looking for something splendidafantasticupamorus (can't get Mary out of my head!) to do on the weekend - come check out the Mangrove Mountain Country Fair. Fun with a capital 'Yeehaw!!'

This has been our first year of wwoofing and we love it!
In case you don't know, WWOOF stands for Willing Workers On Organic Farms and is an excellent program. Travellers register as wwoofers, and contact 'hosts' who exchange them room and board for some work around the farm. But it's more than just an exchange of labour. From our wonderful Korean wwoofers we learnt how to make wontons and how to fold origami boats. We played cards with our Aussie couple and now follow their blog as they travel around the country. Our English lad and Lucky developed an incredible game of imagination - trying to outdo each other in designing a magical hideout....these travellers become a part of your family for the time they are staying with you, and therein lies the true magic...
So thanks to all our wonderful wwofers so far - you have undoubtedly enriched our lives. And the vegie garden, pumpkin patch, wood pile and chook shed thanks you as well!

I have decided to shave my head.
It's not a knee jerk decision or a reaction to anything in particular. It is something I have always wanted to do, to experience the sensation of wind on my skull, the freedom of no hair to wash, brush or prep.
But it is, somehow a little scary! And that interests me....
I have found myself concerned that I won't look 'feminine' enough, that I won't be 'pretty' enough...for what or whom I don't know!!
People keep asking me what my husband thinks about it, which is also interesting....(he has a shaved head by the way!)....my eldest son is NOT happy with the idea at all as he thinks people won't recognise me, and he is concerned that when Gav and I are sitting on the couch and he approaches us from behind, he won't be able to tell us apart. Hint: I am the one wearing earrings and with breasts.
So, the whole thing has gotten me thinking about ego. That part of us that identifies with something like having long hair as defining who we are. I cut my hair short once before when I was 21 and living in Canada. It was like a snake shedding it's skin, a peeling off of old clothes and expectations of myself - I was, for the first time in my life living as me - nobodies daughter or girlfriend or sister - and cutting my blonde hair off at the point of dark regrowth was like cutting an umbilical cord. It was one of the first times in my life I felt real freedom. I realised that this was my life and I could wear, kiss, eat, go, do, create, choose whatever I wanted!
Maybe I need reminding of that.
I read a great post recently about how as mothers we often find ourselves putting on a 'mum uniform' - and I think it happens on many levels. Behaving how we think we should, saying the right things, dressing appropriately - it's all the same! It is us trying to be right. To be good. Now there is nothing wrong with good or appropriate, but maybe sometimes it gets in the way of true or authentic. Of expression and bravery. I am a very aesthetic person - I love beauty and colour and eye candy in all forms, but I think I love real more. And I think, metaphorically and follicle-ly, I just don't want any hair getting in my eyes.

We pulled into the driveway last night, nostrils full of the smell of 'eau de farm' (animals, jasmine, bush), overjoyed dogs licking our toes and the bliss of sleeping in your own bed after 10 days on the road...and now, writing this the whole trip feels like a beautiful and somewhat distant dream.....but let's start at the very beginning.....

Ha ha! Lucky started the adventure with a nice big sleep. After all, it is exhausting to sit in the car asking 'Are we going yet??" while your parents run a million and thirteen times from house to roofracks making sure all is packed and tied down securely. :)
Armed with lots of stories on CD's, travellin' tunes, sketchbooks, cameras and of course, the wonderful iphone (RIP Steve Jobs) we were off to Bundanoon! Home of our friends 50th feasting birthday celebration, glow worm caves, and camping in the POURING rain!! Lucky woke up just in time - check out the hairstyle!!

Pulling into the farm that our friends had rented for the weekend was like entering a Wordsworth poem. Perfect flowering trees, shiny black cows dotting the emerald paddocks, wisteria cascading over the porch, children laughing and playing among the hedgery....pastoral gorgeousness! We set up our trusty Dingo Doza (rooftop car pop up tent penthouse accommodation) and headed inside to start preparing the pizza feast for that night. And from that point on, the eating/drinking/merrymaking didn't really stop! Over the weekend there were about 50 people all cooking and talking and chopping and throwing footballs (when the rain stopped for a couple of milliseconds!!), watching football (in all weather), drinking wine and generally just feeling the love. As was to be expected from our wonderful hosts, the guests were warm and fun, the kids had a great time and the whole experience felt like some languid meditteranean afternoon (albeit in the freezing cold!!). Big love to all! And I even managed to sneak in a bath!

From Bundanoon we headed further south to Canberra and the fabulousness of Floriade! This annual 'flower festival' is a Canberra institution and I can see why. Stunning, well organised, interactive, fun and free!! What's not to love!!
We strolled amongst the poppies, I made the boys squint into the sun for photos, we watched an old timer's organ playing great carnival tunes (and learnt how each song took weeks to punch out by hand), we rode the ferris wheel (making my stomach curl into a pretzel), explored the moroccan and native flower exhibitions, ate white fairy floss, laughed at the gnomes and fell in love with the swans. All in a couple of hours.

From Canberra we drove through Cooma to Bombala where we camped the night, did a little loving graffiti the next morning and had fun trying to spot crocodiles in the river...

We drove happily along until the tummies started rumbling and it was time for a breakfast stop. Choosing a gorgeous spot by the Cann River the boys played on the river rocks while I untied the esky on the roof and unloaded milk and cereal for a whimsical breakfast under the old bridge. After we had eaten and done some panning for gold in the river, we washed our bowls in the cool running water, hopped back in the car and drove off. After a few tight corners and lots of great scenery we noticed that a bungy strap was dangling next to the window. The strap that was supposed to be tying down the esky. That I had forgotten to do. Uh oh......
Sure enough, the whole esky had blown off the roof spilling the home made jam I was going to give as gifts, my funkiest retro porcelain bowl, the picnic blanket and all our leftovers from the party ALL OVER THE ROAD in a mess of glass, preserves, cheese and china.
Oh well, no use crying over spilt handmade flower petal marmalade....( debatable. )
After that little fiasco it was straight to Grandma and Pop's new home in Eastwood, near Bairnsdale. They were so welcoming and it was lovely to see their new place and to hear how happy they are. Pop was a baker by trade and whipped up all sorts of delicacies for us, the boys had a ball exploring the local skatepark and we thoroughly enjoyed the spa bath, comfy beds and hospitality.

I decided to head down to Melbourne a bit earlier to steal a little 'me time', so boarded the train and took off into the sunset. (Well it was actually the middle of the day but I was so excited to be off on a solo adventure that it may well have been asteroid showers and fireworks!).
After a fascinating 4 hours chatting to Phil the dairy farmer who had an exceptional beard and lots of knowledge about cows, I alighted at Flinders St station and immediately fell in love. Again. With Melbourne. Such a magnificent city. So stylish and well organised, so cool and somehow romantic. As I was walking along by myself feeling like an elated backpacker discovering the world for the first time, the city sent me some messages. Here they are: This was

and in this magic time I was allowed to

and sink deliciously into

I was also most definitely supposed to

And did I ever! I ate my way through Richmond and up and down Acland st, St Kilda, staying with two remarkable women with whom I drank delicious beer and rambunctious wine, shared truths and ideas, stories and laughter. Thank you Sarah and Lisa for being awesome. 
I also shopped, lingered, walked, rode a bike, drank LOTS of coffee, ate cake, bagels, croque madame (the best brekkie I think I have EVER had - the NSHRY Albert Park), prosciutto over doughnuts, olives, pork belly pizza (At The Royal Saxon in Richmond), gumbo, mussels (at Claypots in St Kilda where Tim Rogers happened to be hanging out at the bar) and generally had a marvellous collection of moments.....

Aaaaaah the bliss of being able to make decisions based on, well, exactly what I wanted to do!! But, then, I'll admit, the excitement was building as the time grew nearer for me to meet my clan of fellas once again...
And sure enough they turned up in grand style, chugging into the small street with tales of lemon meringue pie and a chipped tooth (not related but sounds somewhat poetic no?). And after many hugs and smooches off we sped together in the blue beast  towards the 'pinnacle' of our trip - King Tutankhamun.
The exhibition that centered on the young king and his treasures was fantastic - dramatic and well presented with the silken tones of Omar Shariff as your in ear commentary companion. We marvelled at the detail on his canopic jar (the tiny sarcophogus that housed his liver), the small coffin for his unborn child (you forget that pharoahs too endure tragedy), his toy boats and beautiful trumpet. And so much SOLID GOLD!! The politics which surrounded him were fascinating and macabre (he inherited a kingdom fraught with unease as his father had tried to change the whole 'god' system and the elderly advisor who ended up ascending the throne after Tut also seemed to have 'moved' Tut's body into an inferior tomb). But the young Pharoah (9 when he was crowned and 19 when he died) seemed to enjoy a happy, loving marriage and have his heart in the right place (second jar on the left he he he).

The exhibition reminded us of the wonders of existance which naturally we had to celebrate by going out for dinner ;)
The famous Italian hub which is Lygon St was calling our names...we cruised up and down the bustling Friday buzz watching pizza dough being thrown around, salivating over rainbow displays of gelati, exploring space age self-washing completely automated in every way toilets and finally settling on 'La Gambra' (The Prawn?) for a 'Pasta Mista' (trio of pasta platter). Deeeeeeelish.

With very full bellies we went back to Lisa's house, had a little bonfire (?!) and went to sleep with dreams of gnocchi marinara dancing in our heads....
The next day it was up and at 'em, making our way to South Melbourne markets by foot and tram. Had a coffee at the Kombi Garage on the way, and at the markets, sampled lots of the mouth watering treats on offer. I think breakfast there took about 2 hours! Sarah and Lisa joined us, and then we were off to soak up the testosterone at the skatepark where Flex had a clinic with a cute young scooter punk. After this it was on a tram to 'The Empress' to see some local live music (Craig Lee Smith with 'Chicken Parmiagana' was a stand out) and drink some yummy White Rabbit Beer ( a honey ale brewed in Healesville). From there it was back on a tram to The Coburg where we joined in on an Old Time Jam session featuring banjos, violins, mandolins, guitars, Gav on his uke and Felix blowin' on the bottle! A golden evening of giggles, great music and gregarious company...

Another bonfire back at the bungalow that night accompanied by a bit too much red wine and a sore head greeted me the following morning...so I went with the boys to the MSAC (aquatic centre) and eased my head in the water slide and wavepool. :)?!
Then it was time to farewell Melbourne and hit the road once again...and that, my friends is where our story ends....for today anyway!