It’s late. Miss G is having a sleepover party as the Festival of 12 draws to a close as of tomorrow morning.

The girls are bunkered down in the lounge room. The visiting lad, a little brother of one and a good friend of T’s, cracked and requested to go home. The little one had a big case of worries. He’d been here since 6pm, so much fun and food and rotgut.

I lay in with T and had a good snuggle and chat to reassure him that it was all ok. He’s decided he doesn’t want a sleepover party for his own birthday this year. A bold decision to make six weeks in advance. I think it’s a good one really.

The muttering is continuing in the lounge room. I think I will leave them to it entirely very soon.

Turners Beach is a much more relaxing thought!

This morning young T came out wearing quite the t-shirt. Yesterday when we were tidying up his chest of drawers I’d come across it, and snaffled it to the back again, without even showing him.

He was quite surprised to find out that it’d been mine. I got it when the damming of the Franklin and Gordon rivers was an election issue and winner for Bob Hawke when Malcolm Fraser had been PM for several years. The saving of this river system was an election promise, and the ALP kept it. Not only were these t-shirts all around the place, there was also a collection of stunning photographs, made in to posters so everyone would know what would be lost.

The Greens gave their preferences to the ALP and the Hawke and Keating years began.

There was a little blonde 14 year old girl with her Daddy helping hand out the how-to-votes at the hall in the Spot in Randwick, wearing this shirt. We were all so thrilled when the local Labor candidate, Jeanette Machugh, won that seat for the first time! Philip became a bellwether seat, til it was abolished in the mid Nineties.

I kept it because I couldn’t part with it. I never really thought it’d be worn again, let alone by a child of mine.

You can tell I’d have been a bit taller than my lad, being fourteen and and all! He’ll get a few years wear out of it, if the shorts he’s wearing are anything to go by. They’d been bought in Singapore when he was one and G was three, but that’s another story!

Today I made the kids bring in all the books, and the basket full of books and bits and pieces, from the car.

Included in that basket of goodies was this storybook.

When we were at The Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) in Brisbane we visited the Children’s Gallery. My two leapt straight into the art and activities on offer.

One of the activities was inspired by this book. The name of the book had me captivated, and the story had me weeping. It isn’t meant to have you weep, it is meant to make you think, as all books do.

Why did I weep? Well, firstly the name of the book. My children attend a primary school where Ali is an extremely common name. Most of those Ali’s are first generation Australian from Lebanon. Their parents and grandparents would have come to Australia seeking refuge from a war torn land. These days Australia is keeping refugee children in prisons – I am sure that there would be Ali’s in Nauru.

Then there is my husband, who’s called by this name by all his family, though with a different emphasis than the Ali of the Middle East. My in-laws lived in Aiden just before he was born, and so many of their friends there reckoned he was named after them. Or so the story goes.

The story is so beautifully crafted. It was inspired by a letter the author received from his nephew, wishing that the boat he had drawn on his note would take him from Baghdad to the Netherlands to him.

The book is sparsely illustrated, with the all the imaginative ways that Ali could travel, and how beautifully he could journey. The prose is stunning and so thought provoking.

The book ends with instructions of how to make a boat to carry your dreams. A simple origami boat. This was the activity associated with the story in the gallery. People were asked to write their dream on a piece of paper and construct a boat to leave on the wavy shelf in the gallery.

My favourite piece of advice in the story is “Don’t look at the snakes. Take only the ladders.”

I think my daughter has a lot of dreams and wishes. She made six boats this afternoon. I wish that she always finds safe refuge at home, and never needs to leave her country under terrible circumstances.

Ali’s Boat

Text and illustrations by

Sadik Kwaish Alfraji

15 – Paint

16 – Glasses

17 – Corner

18 – Turquoise

19 – Fence

20 – Dinner

21 – Nice

What a lovely week that was!

Yamba was splendid. It is the town that just keeps giving, so much fun when we were there, and so many memories to keep us going til next we visit,

Then of course the Festival of G has been a never ending carnival of cake and parties! One more and that’ll be that til next year for that little girl!

Home again to our diggity dog, also a delight to be reunited with!

My insta-record of the week that was!

Only a mad woman would decide, whilst on holidays, to invite a few close friends and family over for a party the day after she arrives home from a big holiday.

I am that mad woman!

The potential attendees seemed to be quite fluid, right up to about an hour before it started. Family members replied and gave their excuses, friends were called and invited on the spot, others changed their minds about coming along. So we ended up with 4 lads, 4 lasses and 6 adults for a celebratory meal to honour Miss G once again!

Lots of good food and drink, and lots of whooping and running around by the 12 and Under Set!

Too much fun! One more party to go and I think G will be more than pleased with the number of celebrations she has had to ring in her new year.

“Cake” was Nigella’s brownies from “How to Be a Domestic Goddess”, as requested by The Birthday Girl. I also threw together a great big lasagne for the dinner segment of the festivities!!

We are home again.

Over three weeks of travel and holiday fun. I think Archie-Dog was surprised to actually see us again. Though he’s been rather chilled about it all.

We missed him!

That boy, that lighthouse and that kite.

All things Mary likes.

Today I had to snap a quick pic of The Pacific Hotel as we walked down to the beach with our boards under our arms.

To think that next month it will be thirteen years to the date that we first came to Yamba together on our honeymoon and stayed in that fabulous pub perched high above the beach.

Just along the other side of the pub are the renovated rooms, with en-suite and balcony. We were so happy to see and hear the Pacific from our room. Little did we know that we were starting a tradition right then and there.

Yamba got straight into our hearts. Here’s to many more visits.

These two got married on the 16th of January 1965. They are also my parents!

Tonight we went to dinner at a lovely Indian restaurant across the road from our holiday house, to celebrate all those years!

I know that I am extremely fortunate to have both my parents. It is amazing to have such a solid marriage as an example of how good things can be. They are a hard act to follow! I know that my parents still adore each other, support each other and truly appreciate the love they have and the family they have created.

We are so happy to have them here with us this week. They are wonderful grandparents to my two darlings, loving parents and in-laws to me and A.

J and K – here’s to many more happy years together!

PS the photo was taken before their wedding, at J’s graduation ball. K was cleanshaven for the big day!

Day 8 – Quirky

That girl, those hats!

Day 9 – This or That

Glad I don’t need to choose between these two.

Day 10 – Play

At the State Library of Queensland, earlier in the week.

Day 11 – Pink

Just a hint. My Christmas orchids. #tbt

Day 12 – Begins with T

Turners Beach, Yamba!

Day 13 – Lunch

Yamba prawns are so very delicious!

Day 14 – Handful

T in the Guard of Honour on G’s last day of primary school. Hands full of hands, and so much love from the entire school as the Year Six children made their way through and exited the school. #tbt