Friday Treats

So this is how I felt yesterday after a week of not so much sleeping. We've been experiencing a few issues in the going to bed department with our littlies that thankfully (and without jinxing it), I feel are now much improved. This week has disappeared and I don't know what I have accomplished. I think I will leave that gold star to my lovely husband (trumpet horn), who today, was asked to permanently join the team he has been cooking with over the past few weeks. The upside is that the business is super dynamic and really sees his talents. The downside is that we won't see him for dust over the next while. BUT I am not one to complain, this is yet another supercool moment in our Hobart adventure. Hang on, maybe I can claim an accomplishment this week... successfully reinventing the bedtime ritual is definitely worth a self pat on the back.
So why have I titled this Friday Treats? Well this morning, I had a magical forty minute sleep in, the boys didn't whinge once in eight hours and I am now enjoying complete silence as I type. Treats indeed.

They're in...

Hold the phone, stop the press. It's happened. The tomatoes are in. All we need now is some more of this sunshine and come January we'll be harvesting plump juicy red ones like there is no tomorrow. Chutney anyone?
For all you non Hobartians, tomato planting is generally the most popular topic of conversation after the weather...

P.S.

I'm testing the market and want to see whether I am interesting enough to encourage my good readers to click through to my full blog...so from now on, if my post is lengthy (those of you who subscribe) will need to click on the post title to read the end of the story...

Daytripping

How often can you casually take off on a Friday; kids and husband in tow, and drive to an island that glistens with white sand and purist beauty that breathes nothing but freshness and serenity, all within an hours drive from a capital city. We pinched ourselves a few times and savoured every moment of our delicious day trip to Bruny Island. It was my sister, who on a chance quickie phone call from London, made me aware of how unbelievably lucky we are. As she made her way past John Lewis on Oxford Street, on a chilly Friday night, there we were, passing hedgerows and blue skies on the other side of the world, chatting, care of the wonderous mobile phone, sharing our thoughts and marvelling at our distinctive lives. Although I am so physically distant from my two dear sisters it is so precious to have moments like this and be able to share and be reminded of the wondrous life we are now living.
Oh and in case you were wondering, these four boys were parked at the ferry terminal, doing a rather pathetic, but super enthusiastic job of selling their wares. They got our supercool sign of the day award...

Sewing the seeds...

Huge excitement. We are seeing green. Yes shoots are bursting up and our seedlings are all systems go. Little did I think that we would be haring to the kitchen window each morning to see if anything had happened overnight. But I tell you, it must be this air, as all our teeny vegies are working gangbusters and are nearly ready for the big bad vegie patch!
For want of sounding completely corny, and in the words of Tears for Fears, "anything is possible when you're sewing the seeds of love". Oh dear.. too much country air...

You are my sunshine. My only sunshine...

We love to talk about the weather. "Hello, nice to meet you..bit chilly today isn't it?" "Hello, yes we've just moved here..oh so Hobart isn't usually this cold..or wet? So when does it actually warm up?"

Until Monday, I was very upbeat about the rather inclement weather here. It wasn't the mist or the chilly temperatures that finally got to me. It was the rain, the soft incessant spray that seems neverending... ho hum. Anyway, we managed to escape the drabby drizzle at our local kinder gym, where the boys exhausted themselves and I checked out potential pals. When we finally got home, magically the sun appeared and our day ended up playing hop scotch and the ever popular 'Don't eat the stones, Charlie'.

Jack was particularly impressed with me when I suggested we create his very own vegie patch, as Daddy seems to have completely taken over the garden and was giving him zero room to "dig big holes". So, as shown, Jack now has his precious triangle, and maybe, just maybe, Daddy might give him a seed or two.

The Ultimate Party Accessory

At a very lovely birthday party last night, I came across this most supercool of party accessories. This fabulous original 'no hands' wine glass was designed in the 1970's and is worn around your neck with clever bulbed stem that allows neither drip nor drop. What I found so utterly terrific was that this very glass has lasted more than thirty years, travelled across the country and is still going strong. If only I knew how to blow glass, I would be recreating these by the dozen... anyone interested?
(and thank you to the lovely Mrs L for allowing me to photograph her)

Becoming a local

Today it was supposed to be wet and 14 degrees. I think someone in the Met office was having a bad day as we had nothing but sunshine and warm skin, lovely! I am madly in love with our little garden, where Jasmine and Lavender take pride of place and this lovely creeper I photographed tumbles over the wall from next door. Inspired by all this nature, the boys and I set off to the Botanical Gardens, and after lunch on the grass beside the giant floral clock, we purchased another load of tomato plants for the vegie patch. It's all about the tomatoes at the moment, when to plant them, what varieties are good, hmmm how's the soil looking...all sorts of things that I am pretending to understand, but really haven't a clue. All I know is that I love the smell of the leaves, it reminds me of the greenhouses we ran through with our cousins many moons ago in Ireland.
My question for the day is though...after you move to a new town, when are you referred to as a local? After only one week, I was very proudly able to provide my lovely new chum with some local information that she (my oracle) required . Now that surely scores me major brownie points, don't you think? Tomorrow, I think I'll apply for mayor.

Setting up Camp

Moving house is well known to be a very stressful activity so to relay the past week's frustrations would be a bore. In fact, apart from the on going challenges of parenting, there really were few. So here I sit, with a pretty maple tapping at the window behind me, a cup of tea brewing and the peaceful sound of two boys sleeping. Ah bliss.

Today is our first day without Daddy, so while he sets out to conquer Hobart, the boys and I have been busy checking out what's what in town. After my third trip to Dick Smith (why, I will explain later), we strolled the downtown streets to check out what Tassie's capital has to offer. Thankfully, my city slicker side was relieved to find a number of stylish stores that will satisfy my shopping needs, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief to find the ABC store, critical when in need of some new rhymes and car stories. I was also very delighted to add a very important item to my new warmer wardrobe. While shopping for compost at the weekend, I stumbled across a very shapely pair of gumboots. Although I need three people to help me get them on, they are really rather smart. Who needs to fork out $100's for a pair of Hunters, when you can just pop down to your local Mitre 10 and pick up a pair for a tenner?