The next entry or two were written and saved while we were away. Had no internet access (I did surprisingly well, but I missed you all), so couldn't post them until we got back.
We went away at the beginning of the week. We've needed so desperately to get away from it all. We wanted to sit on the beach, play with the boys and be nowhere near anyone or anything we knew. Joel had grown up in this area, so we went and stayed here. It was absolutely perfect. I cannot recommend this place enough, or our hosts. They are simply lovely, lovely people.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
It’s about 10.30 on Tuesday morning. I’m lying on the softest, most decadent sofa, cushions at my back and under my feet.
The French doors are open, and I have a clear view of a turquoise ocean, white caps not so much crashing onto rocks, they seem to almost dance onto the charcoal coloured boulders.
There’s a frangipani tree right outside our bedroom window. Most of its leaves and flowers have fallen already, an autumn rite. But a few hold on, saving their beauty for us, Their proud pink, white and yellow petals were the first thing my sleepy eyes focused on this morning, and as they swayed proudly in the gentle breeze, I smiled. I felt positively light as I remembered where I was, and wondered what the day would bring my family.
Joel and Alexander left together about an hour ago, embarking on one of those childhood rites of passage – the first father-son fishing expedition. Yesterday, Joel took our hyperactive firstborn out and bought him his very first (and oh, so cute!) fishing rod. Alexander is positively giddy, telling every person that we’ve met that he was going fishing with Daddy. Joel seems to know this is the beginning of what will, perhaps one day, be a beautiful new tradition for his sons. Me, I’m on the poor fish’s side, so this is really Joel’s things.
Samuel is sleeping in the boys’ room (can I tell you how excited Alexander was to discover he was sharing a room with his brother this week! He was thrilled, and couldn’t stop kissing Sam and telling him he’d “always love you, little brother”). He’s finally restful after a week of teething misery (he’s cutting 6 at the moment, all up the top. Who cuts 6 at a time, I ask you? ) and a terrible head cold, that all three of my men have (3 cases of man cold. Yeah, I’ve had a beautiful week).
So, here I lay, a book by my side (Maeve Binchy, great holiday reading, in my opinion). The lifestyle Food Channel (ooh, just what I need. A new guilty little secret – Joel would HATE it ), is in the background.
I can hear the waves. There seem to be birds everywhere, the kookaburras seem to be celebrating something, such is the joyous sound they create this morning. The breeze softly flows through the apartment and combined with a perfect blue sky, the fluffiest white clouds you can imagine, and my steaming, milky tea, I find myself filled with the warmest sense of wellbeing.
It seems I may not be alone in this. I just went in to check on Samuel. He is sleeping peacefully, almost still (he is NEVER still, not even when he sleeps). A breeze floats into the bedroom, and must caress his beautiful face, for he thrusts his chin forward, to reach for it, perhaps, and a satistfied smile lights up his face. He rolls over, clutching his Charlie Bear, and I tiptoe out of the room.
It’s nearly 12 now. I’m heading back to my book, before the boys return. But I’ve been thinking of you. I thought about Jenn, and the Monkey, and whether Monkey would like the rockpools just across the road from us. I think about Kim and wonder if Bella would like to Dance with Alexander, swirling in the park, her ringlets twirling in the breeze. I think about Ave and Donna, imagining Luke, Sam and Dashiel, clumsy hands trying to work the rod and reel, excitedly watching their Daddy’s throw the lines out for them, more interested in sandcastles. I think of Simone, and Simon, and how this would be the ultimate break, a chance to get away and just relax with the twins. I think of you, Paulette and just know that you and I would sit with our coffees on the little table out the front, catching up properly.
I think of Joel and I, and how much we need to do this, just the two of us. And how wonderful it is for us to get out, take our children to the beach. When they get back, I’ll make them some lunch. I”ll convince my exhausted husband to take a nap, and maybe after that, we’ll head back down to the beach. Talk to you all soon.