Thursday, 8 January 2015

Taking time to gaze at the stars

The heat hadn't dissipated despite the sun going down hours before while The Boy and I weaved our way through our city streets, half drunk on the excitement of the impending Christmas break.

Well I was. The Boy was truly drunk thanks to a day at the cricket. That sport has a lot to answer for.
We laughed and made jokes, holding on to each other tightly, all the while finding new shortcuts and places to come back to explore by daylight.

As the night crept on we found ourselves in front of the town hall, which had undergone a festive transformation and was lit up in lights. It was childlike and magical and held us in thrall - the music, the story, the graphics. Just wow.

But when it finished we were left lying on the pavement, still hot from the summer day, with a glimpse of a star here and there that hadn't been drowned out by the city lights.
And that's when the magic really happened.

"I like looking at the stars. I want to spend more time just looking at the stars."

As soon as the words left The Boy's mouth I was struck silent. They may have been the product of a few too many beers and good times, but that didn't diminish them at all. And just like that my resolution for 2015 was born.

I'm not a great believer in resolutions, being of the opinion that if you want to do or start something then why wait until a magical date. But this, this perfectly summed up what I want from 2015: simplicity, curiosity, and a childlike wonder.

And with that, Happy New Year lovelies!

Tuesday, 29 April 2014

Confessions of an anti-bride

I often ask myself "how do you know when you're a real, bona fide adult?". When you own a house? Have a university degree? Are no longer carded when you buy alcohol?

Last October, I gave myself a definitive answer to that when The Boy and I tied the knot. (Perhaps I should re-name him The Husband...).

The proposal was incredibly romantic and we returned home to Australia to a barrage of enthusiastic questions that I was entirely unprepared to answer - when and where were we getting married? What would the dress be like? And the bouquets? What about the boys' suits? And name cards, had we thought about the design we'd use on the name cards?!

I tried my best to answer these questions enthusiastically and even went so far as to buy a wedding magazine or two to flick through. But it soon dawned on me that I was *gulp* an anti-bride.

Now, I don't mean that I didn't want to get married - I was super dooper chocolate fudge with sprinkles on top excited about getting married. I just wasn't overly concerned with the smaller details. Did I want good food and wine? YES! Some groovy music of some kind? Sure thing. A delicious cake to eat afterwards? Just try and stop me.  But as for the other details... meh. I was equally as happy to get married barefoot on a beach and have a barbecue afterwards as to have an elaborate sit-down do with all the trimmings, just so long as the people who were important to The Boy and I were there. But I soon discovered that that answer doesn't satisfy many people.

At this point in my rant I should clear up that I am not, nor have I ever been the "wedding" type of girl. As a child I planned all the places I wanted to see rather than what my big day would look like, while The Boy's list of demands were simple - good food, wine and company and a place to sit down when he felt like it.

As a result, in the months leading up to the big day we were both regularly reprimanded for being too laid back. The perfect dress was found on the first day of looking, as was the location (although, to be honest that was due to a fantastic tip off), the suit was found at the second store we visited, a colour scheme of any kind was thrown out the window because it was deemed too hard, while the cake was homemade and the florist chosen because of her proximity to where the big day would take place.


But here's the big secret - with the help of our friends and family we still ticked all the to-do major boxes and as far as we were concerned our day was just as perfect as if it had been planned down to the tiniest detail. It just caused a few less grey hairs in the meantime.

I have nothing against the girls who had every single second of every single minute of every single hour of the big day planned out. Hell, I more than once wished I was one of them. Or at least a functional female who could tell the difference between snow white and ice white, or cared enough to learn the difference

But I'm not. So I've embraced being an anti-bride.

Besides, I still get to look at this face everyday.

Here are a few other tidbits from the day.

We also had an amazing videographer -the beautiful Marcus from C2 Video. You can see the video here

In the spirit of total honesty, here's a big shout out to the beautiful people who also helped us to make our big day awesome-o.

Make-up: Fernando Hervas
Photography: Ivy Road Photography
Location: Fig Tree Restaurant and Rooms
Gown: Paddington Weddings
Celebrant: Penelope Watson

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Bali baby

Well hey there! That was one hell of a hiatus... and there's no excuse whatsoever other than, you know, life getting in the way.
But it has been getting in the way in a good way, starting with The Boy and I actually being all grown up and tying the knot last year. It was a spectacularly incredible day and was everything we could have ever dreamed of. Also, naturally for us, it was also followed by a decent dose of travel.
But being southern hemisphere-dwellers who had succumbed to a life of 9-5 work, we had to keep it close to home and sp, like almost every other Aussie, decided to jet off to Indonesia. Bali and Lombok were calling baby!
However, in the wake of planning a wedding and all the mayhem that involves we chose to be pretty terrible tourists, more often than not choosing to lie on a beach and stare at sunsets rather than sightsee. But you know what? It was worth it, just take a look for yourselves!

A second trip is already in the works - I actually want to see these islands and all their glory properly this time!
Oh, and yes I am terrified of monkeys now - those buggers can bite!

Monday, 25 March 2013

Everyone loves a wedding

Rocking on a boat in the middle of Prague, after admiring the incredible Charles Bridge and accompanied by wine and cheese The Boy and I got engaged.

Big yay! But the aftermath rapidly descended down into a mess of confusion and pressure.
Now months out we have decided to reclaim our day. And in the theme of reclaiming back our day I also decided to write about it (and when I say write, I really mean word-vomit all over my computer keyboard).

Nonetheless you can read the entire post here

Sunday, 17 March 2013

Lost in a good book

I often find myself totally lost in a good book, only to come to hours later and slightly disoriented. But it's rare these days for these page turners to be not only by Australian authors, but also by women.

But I ramble through the aisles of my local library changed this, and I stumbled across Kerry Greenwood's fantastic Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries series.
I'd caught the television adaptation a few times and enjoyed it but the books were like a breath of fresh air and I devoured both Queen of the Flowers and Dead Man's Chest in a week.

The combination of an irrepressible herione; stylish, sassy and 'fast' Phryne Fisher, her companion Dot - a demurely comic lady's maid and a good old-fashioned 'whodunnit' makes for engaging reading. And each tale is written in an easy-to-read yet intelligent way. 50 Shades of Grey rubbish this is not!

 Melbourne in the 1920s never has a dull moment, and with the circus in town, and the Festival of Flowers just around the corner Phryne has her work cut out for her. But combine a missing girl who has washed up on the beach, and a missing daughter to boot and Phryne has another mystery to solve. Queen of the Flowers delves in Melbourne's dark underbelly and is a pageturner from the very start

In Dead Man's Chest Phryne and her daughters Jane and Ruth swap Melbourne for the beach town of Queenscliff. But from the moment they arrive things aren't quite right. A mysterious braid snipper haunts the town, there are missing housekeepers and a secret pirate treasure to be found.

I'd long been complaining to The Boy that I needed to up the ante on the intellgence factor in my books in an attempt to re-engage my brain which is still on holidays six months after I returned to the real world and as a result Tolstoy, Austen and Dickens were all on my reading list.

I've since added the rest of Greenwood's series to it. Besides, who can resist an author who lists that she lives with a registered wizard on her biography?