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Category Archives: Travel

Mr Fix-It takes charge of our wedding anniversary…and nailed it.

It’s been a big couple of months.

First Mr Fix-It went and turned the big 4-0. I wasn’t ready, I’m still not ready, I’ll never be ready to be married to a forty-year old. I’m still having my own personal midlife crisis about it. Which is scary because I’ve already written about how I was having a  midlife crisis last year.

THEN we went and had our 15th wedding anniversary. Seriously it seems like only last year we hit number 10 and now we’ve catapulted to 15.

Every anniversary we alternate who takes control of the celebration, we don’t do presents, we do escapes from reality outings.

When we hit number 10 it was Mr Fix-It’s turn.

Now, Mr Fix-It has come up with some gorgeous little places to eat over the years but quite frankly I’m a control freak and I wasn’t letting him take the reins with our 10 year wedding anniversary. You can read all about how that little adventure went right here.

Soooooooooo when our 15th came around it landed directly on Mr Fix-It. A little reluctantly, actually a LOT reluctantly, I gave up the reins, closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

Well this is what I got:

First we went to Cha Cha Char for lunch, in Brisbane City, on the one and only day EVER that a gunman was wandering around the main shopping mall. We weren’t so worried about the crazed gunman, the police seemed to have it under control, but the traffic snarl that made us late for our lunch date was rather annoying.

Then Mr Fix-It convinced me we were going on a half hour drive to our next destination, when in fact we drove a couple of hundred metres down the road and spent the night at the beautiful Stamford Plaza. (Note – this is not a sponsored post, but if you work at the Stamford feel free to send me a few nights free, it was fabulous!).

oopsiemumma march 2013

Oooh la la, very romantic, no?

oopsiemumma march 2013

There’s nothing quite like a good view.

Then on day two, Mr Fix-It had another little surprise up his sleeve. We hit the road and headed South-West. Driving through lots of farming country. I started to become a little concerned that his idea of a romantic getaway was staying in a rustic cabin, with an outside loo and mooing cows outside the window.

I had nothing to fear.

There was not an outside toilet or mooing cow in sight. But this is what I did see.

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The only sign after endless dirt roads. They are tricky at The Bunyip, they know how to keep their guests out of sight and well relaxed.

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This was our accommodation. We stayed in the right-hand side apartment. Mr Fix-It and I LOVE this type of architecture. So simple yet so effective.

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Let me show you inside.

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It was a little overcast and I forgot my camera, but you get the idea. Gorgeous leather couches, delicious wooden floorboards and accents of calming green.

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I have always dreamed of having a bedroom on a mezzanine floor with a beautiful view, and here it is. Even the shower and toilet had a view.

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I loved just sitting in bed and looking at that view, how could you be anything but calm waking up to this every day, bliss.

But our little apartment was only a little taste of The Bunyip (check out their website for some gorgeous photo’s). There was also The Great Room.

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The Great Room is a massive living space with a huge kitchen (you can self-cater if you prefer or have Rob and Marina cook for you – they produce AMAZING food…which I don’t have any photo’s of *sigh*). This room has all sorts of areas set up for relaxing and eating, a truly amazing space that you share with the other guests (although we got seriously lucky and there were no other guests, a rare occurrence), and a truly amazing view.

Between The Great Room and the apartment building is a gorgeous little pool for a summer splash. It was a bit cool and drizzly while we were at The Bunyip, but it made our time there all the more relaxing. Speaking of relaxing, Marina gives the most fabulous massage. A talented pair.

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Mr Fix-It had thought of everything. Not only did we have beautiful accommodation, fabulous hosts and to die for views, we also got to go on our own little  romantic picnic. Rob and Marina sent us on our way with a picnic basket and two esky bags FULL of food (so full of food that we literally couldn’t eat dinner that night).

With directions in hand, we headed to the Governor’s Chair, if you can overlook the signs that warn of your impending doom should you accidentally step over the unfenced edge, then the view is simply breathtaking.

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It was a bit misty with all the rain we’d been having, but you get the idea…and did you notice I’m practicing my “no tuckshop arms” pose?

Then we headed to Lake Moogerah, had a walk along the dam wall and set up our picnic of heavenly goodies.

1 blog lake moogerah

I think this anniversary getaway was a winner. I might just trust Mr Fix-It to organise our 20th wedding anniversary…although it does technically fall on my year.

Any romantic getaways to share?

Oopsiemumma xo

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Delusion and reality – a school holiday tale

20130301oopsiemummasurfersparadiseBEFORE the school holidays started I was all excited and dreamy about the awesome eight weeks that the kidlets and I would spend together exploring the city, sniffing out new parks, frolicking in the sand on a beach escape, cooking up a Christmas storm and the craft, oh the craft we were going to do!

I think I may have come down with a touch of holiday delusion.

I was relishing the fact that I wouldn’t have to do four 25 minute drives a day, that the mum taxi would be “out of order”, that I didn’t have to panic each morning when I had no bread for school lunches and there would be no homework arguments for eight whole weeks.

What I completely forgot to remember is that I’d have two children under the age of eight, home with me 24/7 for EIGHT WHOLE WEEKS.

I LOVE my kids. I do. I do. I do. But that amount of time spent together is pushing the boundaries my friends.

Our holidays came with a dose of reality that went a little more like this:

  • Exploring the city was a quick trip to the museum, followed by a quicker trip to see Santa at the Myer centre and then getting the hell outta there;
  • We stumbled across a new park while on a short break at the Sunshine Coast.
  • We “frolicked” in the sand as we were blown by gale force winds, battling to hold our sunshelter down, burning to a crisp and dodging blue bottles;
  • The Christmas cooking was days of frantically throwing together food and yelling at the kids to get out of the kitchen because mummy is in a hurry;
  • and I’m pretty sure I broke out the paints for Miss Princess to play with only once. You all know I don’t do craft, I clearly got caught up in the pre-Christmas crafty spirit.

Don’t get me wrong, we have had some really fun times these holidays catching up with friends, seeing a few movies, lots of playing in the pool, plenty of cuddle time and some family beach escapes, but please someone direct me back to this post when I start getting all starry eyed in the lead up to the next school holidays.

The thing I’m looking forward to most about school going back next week? For five whole days a fortnight there will be no-one at home to barge in on me when I’m in the toilet (Miss Princess is off to kindy).

Did you survive the holidays? What’s your favourite thing about school going back?

Oopsiemumma xo

Getting back to nature – relaxing the ‘natural’ way

Since our trip last weekend I’m finding that camping is growing on me.

I’ve always liked it, but never really hankered after going. Now I’m hankering. I can’t wait to book the next trip.

There’s just something about getting back to nature, waking up to beautiful views of paddocks and trees instead of houses and barking dogs.

It’s quite cheap therapy really.

There’s nothing quite like watching the kids playing on their bikes, making ramps, playing with sticks, and being able to ride a little out of their parents ever watchful sight without getting into trouble.

Why is that until you go camping you don’t sit back and appreciate the simple things in life, like talking with friends, watching the flames of the fire, cuddling the kids, making damper and cooking potatoes in the hot coals.

I’m so incredibly relaxed today that I’m not sure how I’m going to get through this next hectic week.

Where’s your favourite place to camp?

Our current favourite is Flanagan’s Reserve  (click here for my last blog on this awesome place) near Rathdowney.

The view from our camper trailer….nice!

Oopsiemumma xo

A bushy tale of snakes, cute calves and accidental vodka overdoses.

We’re all so different, I think that’s why we work so well. Love these girls xo

Every year, two of my city slicker friends join me on a pilgrimage to Bush Babe of Oz territory.

Every year this, not so little, journey to the bush brings some new experiences.

This year’s started off with a cracker.

I had barely arrived and sat down when Mr Incredible produced this!!!!

That, my friends, is a largish King Brown snake.

Just for the record I don’t do snakes.

And only days earlier I had stupidly gloated that in all my trips to Bush Babe’s I had only seen one snake and that one was on a road, while I was in the car,  a very safe distance from Bush Babe’s house.

THIS snake however wasn’t playing by the rules and was hanging out in the cattle yards nice and close to Bush Babe’s house. It was a nice and deadly type of snake, and did a nice slither right between Mr Incredible’s legs, sending him dancing around the cattle yard fences. My only regret is that I didn’t get to witness the “dance” with my own eyes.

Once I got over the fact that snakes DO actually live in the countryside I moved onto other adventures.

The first one was a drive through the paddocks…

…do you see the difference between our vehicles?  Guess which one is mine? Mine is for city driving, not bush bashing!

Then we hung out beside a peaceful little lake soaking in the windmills and what we could see of a beautiful flock of black  swans who of course were well out of our way and almost sight….naturally our kids found a dead pelican and were intrigued by death not life.

That afternoon bought lots of cute little calves to photograph, a poddy (rejected by its mumma) to play with and then a mummy calf to ‘fix’.

A cute frolicking calf that made me feel all bouncy.

“Fixing” the mumma was a little….errrr…gross.

Apparently cattle graziers are also obstetricians, not something I had thought about before nor felt that I needed to witness firsthand.

But I did.

Mr Incredible then thought chasing me around the cattle yards with cow afterbirth all over his arms was H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S and that for my squeamish looks while the “operation” was going on I was made to hold the mumma cows tail. Ewwwww!

Mr Incredible – my therapy bill is in the mail.

Another day, brought more adventure,  there was the obligatory visit to the local township (some 40 minutes away) and the obligatory delicious pub lunch, and  then…of course.. letting our kids run like ferals down the main street making quite a spectacle of themselves.

City folk are embarrassing aren’t they?!

Then a trip to some caves which took  bush walking to a new, but fun and intriguing level.

Bush Babe’s dodgy knee didn’t think the mountainous decent was so awesome and my asthma wasn’t too fond of the dust…a country girl I am not.

But this bottle tree in the paddocks below was a beautiful reward for our little adventure trek.

Of course among all the adventure there was lots of playing and  swimming to be done by the kids, and lots of  wine to be drunk and chatting to be done by us girls.

I even learnt a thing or two on our trip away. I can’t drink wine (note: this isn’t what I learnt!)  because it plays up with some allergies, but I can drink pure spirits and my spirit of choice is vodka with lemonade and lime or lemon. Mr Fix-It is usually by barman but he wasn’t on this trip so I was left to my own devices.

On the first day of my country visit I poured myself a drink (in a wine glass, without measuring anything) and thought the room was spinning because I’d had a big day driving…it turns out I’d poured myself a 120ml vodka…I usually drink 15ml.

I was feeling super relaxed that night, even after seeing the scary snake, can’t imagine why?!

The farm adventure came and went way too fast, I’m already looking forward to the next one with my girly friends.

To read Bush Babe’s take on our visit click here. But don’t believe everything she says!

Oopsiemumma xo

Favourite Photo Friday – Spinning around….and around…and around

Windmill in the Granite Belt

There’s just something about windmills that I absolutely, positively, totally LOVE.

This one is on Bush Babe of Oz’s property and was under repair when I took this photo a few days ago.

You can’t see them but to the left of the windmill are about 30 black swans…we were desperately trying to work out a way to get close enough to photograph them, but short of swimming…which was a definite no…the swans would have to remain out of lens range.

Oopsiemumma xo

A snowy adventure – when things went a little wrong

The last you saw of our snowy adventure Master Sporty and I had just booked some beginners lessons. Well here is how the rest of our trip panned out.

Our first full day in the snow rolled around. Mr Fix-It nicked off to play on the scarier snowy trails, leaving me with the two munchkins back at the apartment until it was time for our first lesson.

So we did lots of this to kill some time…..

There was lots of climbing mini hills and sliding down them with squeals of glee.

Then we trudged down the hill towards the village with me carrying what felt like twenty sets of skis, arguing all the way down with Master Sporty about why he couldn’t ski down the hill just yet (because he had NO idea how to stop!) and trying to convince a whingeing Miss Princess that I absolutely could not carry her and the twenty million pairs of skis that I had. I also might have been silently cursing Mr Fix-It by that stage too.

But all turned good when we made it to the village and  Master Sporty and I headed to our separate lesson areas, while Mr Fix-It and Miss Princess played in the snow and then Miss Princess was shoved sent off to afternoon snowy daycare (which she said was very VERY boring thanks Mummy).

Our lessons went very well. We both came out at the top of our class so unwisely after careful consideration decided to ditch all further lessons and hit the bigger beginner runs. Master Sporty skied down them like he’d been doing it forever, while I hit them…literally. Over and over again.

I was not winning any ego contests let me tell you! But I also do not give up easily. Seems to be a trait the kids have picked up on….

Mr Fix-It eventually won the argument that I should ditch snow-ploughing down the entire run and go with snow-ploughing around the corners and parallel skiing the rest of the way, I was pretty shaky at it but must admit it was pretty good advice and much nicer on my now aching thighs.

When our legs couldn’t take one more metre of skiing we headed for our snowy home and then hit the nearest restaurant. I was shocked at how much the kids could eat after a day in the snow.

Day three arrived and the sun was still shining down, the slopes were still looking gorgeous and off we went.

Miss Princess went to her own ski school this time…and LOVED it. While the rest of us hit the…somewhat icy….slopes.

It turns out I’m not a fan of icy slopes, I much prefer to ski in the afternoons when it’s turned a bit more powdery. It looks softer and prettier, not like the hard nasty looking icy slopes.

So, I freaked out.

For the first two hours of the day I was a very unhappy beginner skier slipping and sliding all over the place and ready to turn in my lift pass for good.

It didn’t help when I ended up on a blue run (for the uninitiated that’s the next step up from the beginner run, but this one was VERY steep). Mr Fix-It to this day insists it was an accident, but at the time I definitely didn’t believe him and sent death stares in his direction on more than one occasion.

It didn’t help one little bit that just as I was falling over for the umpteenth thousandth time Master Sporty went whizzing by with his poles up under his armpits in racer mode. Just as I was recovering from that ego blow, Bush Babe’s daughter Violet went swooshing past as well. That just about did me in and I might have thrown a little tanty.

But calm was restored an hour or so later when the snow turned fluffy and suddenly I found my ski feet and all was rosy and good with the world again.

Then Day Three rolled around and things got rather interesting.

Off went Miss Princess to ski school again, she was already snow ploughing well and they were going to teach her to turn in this lesson…smarty pants.

Miss Princess showing how the snowplough “pizza” is done.

So while Miss Princess was taken care of, six of us headed high up into the mountains to ski some very pleasant beginner runs.

But  between getting off the chairlift and making it to the beginner runs we had to ski a crossover style track along the mountain edge.

Well most of us skied it…Master Sporty decided flying was more his style and as we came around the highest corner and veered to the left on a downhill run, he went a little too close to the edge and went for a fly off the side of the cliff instead.

See the person at the top of the photo? That’s Mr Fix-It. Master Sporty is off the edge a few metres below where Mr Fix-It is standing.

I think my heart actually stopped for a second as I saw his little orange helmet disappear over the side of the cliff. My head immediately told me that the probability he landed in snow was very high, but how deep the snow was and what was underneath it was another thing.

Mr Fix-It and I quickly but carefully made our way to the side of the track and gingerly peered over, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

What we saw was our little boy a few metres below us, standing up and then asking “should I just ski down the cliff?”

I was pretty quick to reply with a “NO!!!!!” and after a quick check that all his limbs were still where limbs should be and he amazingly still had his skis on and his poles in hand, he was guided by Mr Fix-It on how to climb very very slowly to the top.

After that little heart-stopper we had a great time skiing the runs, though Master Sporty opted to stay with Bush Babe for awhile after we all stopped for morning tea, I think the reality of his fly had finally sunk in.

I was determined to hit the slopes one more time before Miss Princess was to be picked up from her skiing adventures, so headed back up on the quad chairlift. Now have I mentioned how bad I am at getting off these chair lifts?

Here’s a quick rundown of my chairlift adventures. The first couple of goes I fell over straight after getting off, causing chaos. About the third go I managed to hit Mr Fix-It in the head with my ski pole on a flailing exit. Then I finally seemed to get the hang of it and even managed an almost successful T-Bar exit (I fell after an initial good dismount). BUT on my second time on the quad I managed to temporarily shut the whole thing down.

Yes, indeedy I did.

There we were chatting away (I chat because I’m TERRIFIED of heights and the incessant talking makes me forget that I’m hanging ridiculously high in the air on a flimsy chairlift), we got to the “lift the tip of your skis up sign” as we came near the dismount. I obliged and then I must have dropped them back down, because the next thing I knew my ski had jammed itself up underneath the chairlift.

My leg was stuck between the ice and the chairlift, as in nowhere to go but down.

I pushed myself forward to fall on the ground and save me leg when we all heard a SNAP and suddenly I was free.

Panic broke out. Apparently everyone thought I’d broken my leg. I was worried I’d broken my ski.

My ski and I were in fact all in one piece and the snap had been my ski snapping off and wedging itself under the chairlift. With my ski back on, a HUGE apology to the chairlift man and my tail between my legs we hit the slopes.

All was going swimmingly well until Mr Fix-It ditched me mid-ski to hit the blue runs and I had to ski back to the village to collect Miss Princess by myself. In theory this sounded fine, in practice it went a little pear-shaped when I took a wrong turn and ended up on a blue run all by myself.

So I did what any self-respecting terrified skier would do, picked up my skis partway down the hill, threw them over my shoulder and walked a hundred metres or so sideways across the mountain until I found the elusive beginners run. So. Embarrassed.

The rest of our trip went surprisingly smoothly. Master Sporty got his nerve back and skied with daddy from the top of Mount Perisher down all the scary blue runs, he now wants to live permanently in the snow.

We had cozy nights of drinks and chatting by the fire…

Master Sporty and Dash giving us a taste of things to come.

…and we got to play in a snow storm…

If you need a way to rid yourself of some energy and some cash then I thoroughly recommend a snowy adventure holiday.

But we won’t be there next year, we’re off to the beach instead!

Oopsiemumma xo

A snowy adventure – it begins

Those of you following me on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter would surely know by now that the Oopsiemumma household has just returned home from a very snowy adventure. Those of you that don’t follow along…consider yourselves now informed.

Our snowy adventure started as all good adventures do at the airport. I don’t know what it is about airports but they’ve always got an exciting vibe and they always make me hungry.

Anyhoo, we did the airport munchy thing and the obligatory magazine/book buy then left our nice warm BrisVegas and headed off on a two-hour flight to the Capital….brrrrrr.

Naturally the second the plane touched down Miss Princess announced to the entire cabin that she was “busting” to go to the toilet. What followed was a mind blowingly fast dash down the aisle, out the plane and to the nearest toilet.

Leaving the relative warmth of the airport in the Capital was much like walking out of a nice cozy house into a freezer, on went the jackets and out into the sleeting air we plunged.

We spent the first two days of our snowy adventure with our old backpacking friends that we met in Venice…they’re old friends…not technically old…especially since we’re actually older…awkward.

Then Bush Babe of Oz and her crew came to pick us up, squish us into their car and head off for our snowy adventure. This is where things started to get a little interesting.

Firstly the car was a fairly regular, albeit largish, 4WD. Not a mini-van, not a maxi-taxi, just a family car. There were eight of us. As in four adults + four children = 8.

Then there was our luggage, including our snow suits and snow boots.

Then we stopped two hours into our drive and picked up all our snow hire gear. Seven pairs of ski-boots, seven pairs of skis, seven pairs of poles (technically six…because mine got left behind!), four helmets, and the Bush Babe families hired snow suits.

Then we decided that wasn’t quite squishy enough so we’d go grocery shopping! You’re imagining this right?!

So we stopped at the shops and managed to pile in $250 worth of food and close to $300 worth of alcohol, we had our priorities right.

By this stage the kids were told to wear their helmets, not because we thought Mr Incredible was a terrible driver, but simply because it was the only place they would now fit.

Mr Fix-It and I then assumed some interesting Yoga positions…though Mr Fix-It likes to say they were Kama Sutra positions (he’s a dreamer) and with faces peering over the top of the shopping bags we headed off.

Those blue bags on our laps are full of groceries, and Mr Fix-It has a box of alcohol on his lap…he’s protective like that.

Imagine our horror when we arrived at the snow fields only to discover that we couldn’t actually drive to our apartment. Yes, you read that right.

We had to unpack the entire contents of the car into a snow vehicle and then unpack it all into the foyer of the apartment complex and then walk it one piece at a time to our apartment. It was a mission worthy of a stiff drink at the end of it let me tell you.

Our gorgeous apartments. Check out that snow!

But that was not the end of our day. Oh no, far from it. We of course, decided that wasn’t enough fun for one day and donned on our gorgeous snow suits and hit the slopes.

When I say hit, I really mean HIT.

Mr Fix-It hadn’t skied for 18 years. Master Sporty and Miss Princess were seeing snow for the first time and my little feet had never ever put on a pair of downhill skis. WATCH OUT KIDS, OOPSIEMUMMA IS HITTING THE BEGINNER SLOPES. Actually, make that, the very very tiny roped off section of the beginner slope.

I tried to listen to Mr Fix-It’s instructions, I truly, really, did (unlike Master Sporty who wasn’t having a bar of daddy’s advice) but slippery little pieces of plank underneath my feet were simply not working for me in the way they should and Mr Fix-It’s instructions were just making me well…cranky.

We booked beginners lessons for the next day.

Oopsiemumma xo

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