Note To Future Self

As previously noted, Australia was our summer holiday destination. With Oz’s east coast a mere three hour flight away, it’s an obvious choice for us to visit New Zealand’s “West Island” while we’re in the neighbourhood…

We’ll spare you the details, but we enjoyed an itinerary which encompassed the loverly urbanity of Melbourne city, the Grampians, the Bellarine and Mornington peninsulas, Prom country, and the Yarra valley. Whew. We also visited every museum,

zoo, …

waterfall, …

ice cream parlor, …

children’s farm, …

beach…

and hotel swimming pool we came across.

And Grandpa was able to introduce local savages to the good book.

Lastly, though far from leastly, we were also able to confabulate with the mighty Yarra (whose family were our local hosts and guides … thanks again!)

It’s a tradition passed down from generation to generation, stretching back into the murky mists of time. And now, we are passing the torch to a new generation.

My progeny has generated her first crayon-based pre-impressionistic “birthday card” for my father. Even now, her rendition of, uh, “kangaroos on the savannah” (or was it “we take a walk in the park”? “ice cream”?) is gracing the ancestral refrigerator.

[sadly, no, I didn't get a photo...]

Little girl, did you really think you could win our little battle of wills at quiet time?

Not only can I get you to take a nap …

… you won’t even have time to crawl into your bed.

(hooray for long walks!)

When did you say the submarine races started?

Hey, keep your hands to yourself!

The big flying bus deposited us at home at two this morning/last night. The house is still standing and is now a complete disaster of trip unpacking.

Lots of photos and stories to sort through. To start, here’s a softball post for Alan.

It turns out the Aussies build a car just for you…

Sadly, it’s a Toyota Highlander.