Thursday, 11 April 2013


Hello from the house of vomit......where three of my children, so far, have been riding the porcelain bus with a particularly messy bout of gastro.  Having spent a lot of time in the decidedly unpleasant clean up, I've been pondering why, when I've endured such high levels of exposure,  I've never managed to become immune to vomit or poo. So, as you do, I've been deliberating which is worse....with the jury  still out.

As if a sudden dose of gastro hasn't made life hectic enough, the clock is relentlessly ticking and we are now down to NINE days before we board that plane and bid 'au revoir' to Hobart and 'bonjour' to the South of France. I've also taken another trip to the dentist's chair and had my other two wisdom teeth unceremoniously pulled out.....knowing what to expect I tried every delaying tactic in the book and shamelessly used exhibition openings, children's birthdays and a trip to Brisbane to try and avoid having to go through it all......again. I was scared as had been pre warned that these teeth had curly roots. Oh, the agony. Afterwards, I sought comfort in flicking through a book about Prince Charles' garden and one of my boys dedicated his afternoon to sitting on my bed and patting my worked and I managed to hold off on the painkillers.

Anyway, yesterday was our 14th wedding anniversary. My husband came through with flowers just when I was despairing, as only an afternoon of cleaning up poo will do, that maybe I'd made a big mistake setting myself up for domesticity on such a grand scale:

I love Irish Bells.....there's something so unexpected about a lime green flower, don't you think? This is what the five year old dressed me in to wear out to dinner down the road at our favourite haunt, Le Provencal:

The J Brand sparkly coated metallic jeans were on sale at Revolve and I've had the By Malene Birger sequinned top hanging in the cupboard for years. He initially wanted me to wear the jeans and the top without a jacket, however seeing it was 10 degrees outside and the top's a bit big, I managed to talk him into letting me workshop the look with the jacket.....yet only on the promise that I took it off once inside the restaurant where it would be warm.

It may have been warm and looked like the South Of France:

yet I flagrantly disregarded his instructions and kept the jacket on. While compiling the insurmountable list of things still to do over dinner, the thought crossed my mind that it's much easier to pretend to be in France in a French restaurant that we can see from our house......than it is to actually go to France. Too late now.

Over the last week, between loads of vomity washing, I've been hanging out in the hot room like a woman possessed, because the sad fact is that I'm going to have to let my Bikram Yoga addiction slide once I get to France. There's just no way that I'm going to be able to keep up five classes a week. Geography is not on my side.  Like the total tragic that I am, I've been using Google Maps to work out exactly how far it is from where we will be living in Uzes to the Bikram Yoga studio's in Montpellier (1.5 hours)  and Marseilles (2 hours). Here in Hobart, I drive literally from one side of town to the other to feed my addiction and it takes me.....all of 12 minutes. Rationally, I'm thinking that 1.5 - 2 hours in the car on a regular basis might not be feasible, although it makes me upset to admit it out loud. Hopefully, I'll be able to make the commute on a couple of occasions and if I can find a window of opportunity to do a class or two in Paris, then I won't have to go cold turkey.....which is some consolation.

Apart from putting Bikram Yoga classes in the bank, it has also been a great way to tame my monkey mind (for an hour and a half at least) and help with my overwhelming worries about the immediate future.....will our geriatric beagles survive the separation.....when are we going to find a my father in law's health going to rally.....will our property development be finished before we go.....etc etc etc ad infinitum. Most nights I wake up at about 3am and start to think and worry....and think....and then I try to engage my husband in conversation about these particular thoughts....much to his horror as he is holding out until 5.30am when he can get on his bike and go for a ride. You wouldn't want to be getting on a plane next Sunday. I might need to try and schedule two Bikram Yoga classes tomorrow.......



  1. Oh dear... the countdown is always hard, and there are always unexpected things thrown into the mix when you have children... like a lot of vomit. I can totally sympathise. One of my children seems to have a bout of vomiting every couple of weeks. It seems to be that my husband's family do not have strong stomachs. He should have come with a warning sticker when I married him. Caneston laundry liquid is my friend in these situations, and I've never had to wash a car seat due to it being actually just dirty... I'm washing them every few months due to car sickness or gastro. The flowers are lovely and glad you pointed out the green flowers are Irish bells... I bought a bunch the other week and wondered if they were foxgloves!!! Congratulations on the 14 year anniversary.. where are the wedding pics for the post? xx

  2. Sorey pix like everything in this house are PACKED.....except for everything else that isn't! Rx

  3. Love Irish bells! Happy 14th- dreaders re vomit/gastro. Luff the outfit xxx

  4. Happy Wedding Anniversary!

    Hate gastro . Horrible and just seems to go through one person after another until the whole family is done.

    I always think that half the world must be lying awake at 3 am worried about something or other. Everything always seems so much worse at 3am.

    Hope things improve - as always it will be worth it when you all get on the plane. (Sometimes I feel like I have literally fallen into my plane seat after preparations for big trips. Hate it.)

    Take care and hope you all get well soon.

  5. what gorgeous flowers. my husband could use a lesson from yours. i just watched a documentary on highgrove. so stunning.

    happy anniversary! xo janet

  6. Oh I know the 3 am worry, as does my husband. He hates it too as he is not a worrier and has slept like a baby for our full 17 years of marriage. Oh the envy. Good luck with the packing, you know it will be worth it when you get there. One of the best places on earth. Enjoy. Kx (the blog a house built)


I LOVE hearing your thoughts! Rx