While most of you were snorkling down heaps of turkey, forty-two side dishes, and pie then lolling in front of the tv in a near coma watching football and spending the entire next day in a spending frenzy, or adamantly refusing to shop, we were almost too busy to notice that one of our favorite holidays was being celebrated on the other side of the world. And, no, for those of you who haven't asked yet and just aren't sure, Australians don't celebrate Thanksgiving. They didn't have happy Pilgrims and helpful Indians. They had convicts. And I'm pretty sure they were none too happy to be here, though after their first year surviving the harsh land they may have been treated to an extra bowl of gruel and a beating.

We had a sleepover with Sarabelle's high school buddy. Yes, on a school night, Mom. There were tennis lessons and beauty appointments (not mine as anyone we visit at Christmas time will attest) and another tennis tournament. I know, I swore them off after the last one. But due to my fever-induced grouchiness and non-responsiveness at our last committee meeting, the extra surprise bonus two-week tourney was foisted on my friend who was overwhelmed and underenthused, so I offered to give her a hand setting up. I knew I would at least be treated to a top-notch cup of coffee. M never skimps and I am not even the least bit insulted when she drops by for a cup and brings her own coffee and plunger pot. Our kids, her daughter, Bee, and Elle, weren't interested in playing in Saturday's novice doubles until they got there and then changed their minds. Elle is currently in the lead so I know what I'll be doing next Saturday. Then there was a bike rally fundraiser for the school's P&C. The kids hoofed it over eleven hilly kilometers around a beautiful country loop road back to the school where they then enjoyed a barbie and a water slide. The older girls opted to pass on Sunday's open doubles and we went for a dip in the creek instead. Last night there was another sleepover with Bee, and here we are. So you can see, things are really winding down...

Bee and Grice ready to go. Bee won the Brightest Outfit prize.



Elle and the littlies prepare to head out.



Elle coming up Heartbreak Hill...



...on the home stretch.



Bee and Grice determined to come in last, and nearly succeeding.



The Waterslide








The purpose of a liberal education is to make one's mind a pleasant place to spend one's leisure.

-- Joseph Joubert

"Cheese"

Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.

-- Thich Nhat Hanh

Economics Lesson

Elle discussing loose teeth and currency exchange rates over the phone with her father: "They're really wobbly! And when they fall out I'm going to save them and bring them back to the States...because I'll get more money!"


-- It is thrifty to prepare today for the wants of tomorrow.

Aesop (The Ant and the Grasshopper)

FYI

I'm not insinuating anybody here needs to be made aware of this particular information, but it might just give you some insight into why we do what we do.


I wish he would explain his explanation.

-- Lord Byron (Don Juan)

Done

The Melbourne Cup, "the celebration that stops a nation," or, the celebration that ends my obligation as I have come to think of it, has come and gone. I survived the organization and execution of our final fundraiser for the tennis club, bringing in a good chunk of money, and am back to official slacker status. I wasn't inspired to bet on any horses this time around, only Black Tom jumped out at me as I penned his name across 30 or so sweeps boards, but not enough so that I was motivated to plunk down any money, which was good because he didn't come close to winning. Elle won $20 from a Calcutta raffle and then immediately spent $19.99 for a book on Egyptology at the school's book fair when we arrived to pick up Grice. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Jorge heads back in two days, and we are working to get everything wrapped up and settled before he goes. So what do we go and do? We decide to move again. The cattle station is comfortable but it's a long haul into town (and fuel is getting pretty dear) and inhibits our participation in various social events. I would also feel less apprehensive about Jorge being away for who-knows-how-long knowing that we had plenty of friends nearby for support. Things do not become available for rent very often back in Green Acres, the verdant tableland area we spent our first year in, but we've been hearing Doris Day in our heads for years, and once again, things have fallen neatly into place.

Immigrant neighbors with three-of-a-kind children who travel in some of the same musical, student council circles we do and who share a strong sense of wanderlust are packing up and moving over the Christmas holiday to another part of the state for a new job and adventures. They have a house and shed surrounded by rainforest on five and a half neat, mostly level acres with vegetable gardens, fruit trees, a creek, worm farm, and chook house, plus a cubby house, giant tree swing, and flying fox for the kids, and are not concerned as much about rent money as having the "right people" keep an eye on their place. We went over to take a look, thinking that maybe it would just be better to stay put after all, just make do with what we've got, but it was too perfect a fit. They're thinking they will be gone from two to five years and invited us to stay as long as we like during that period. Close enough to cut our drive time to town in half and with the bus picking up right at the end of the road (next year living outside the boundary we would be paying for two students to take the bus -- I estimated over $700 -- plus still have to drive them 15 minutes each way to the bus stop) it will be very convenient. With solar heated water, rain water tanks, and cheap rent we'll save plenty of money. They might even have DSL available there...

Friends have already volunteered and begun making plans to get us moved when we get back from our holiday and the landlords have said, take your time, move in whenever, we'll give you the keys before we leave.


Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours, to see,
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

-- Jay Livingston and Ray Evans