Frock Race

I regularly peruse the Salvo’s shop in North Melbourne, just to kill some time before meeting a couple of gal-pals. Anyway, just before one of Melbourne’s fabulous racing seasons, I was in the above mentioned shop and happened across a cool looking, vintage, navy blue, crepe frock, with a David Jones label. “Great frock for the races” I thought, quickly followed by “I’m not going to the races this season”.

Less than 24 hours later, text from my lovely sister in-law, Danyl. “Would you like to come to Ladies Day Races”? I accepted in a heartbeat.

Damn, should have bought that frock! And started to obsess about whether or not my frock would still be at the Salvo’s by Friday afternoon (several days away). Oh the dilemma; surely it will be there, who will spot the potential of that little frock? Perhaps it did look a little bit daggy on the hanger, or did it? Oh dear!

Friday afternoon loomed, I carefully sidestepped the downside scenarios; maybe it was daggy, it won’t fit, it ISN”T THERE. Still, I found myself sprinting into the op shop.

There it was, hanging in exactly the same place I’d seen it last… Aaahhh. I quickly whipped it on and wouldn’t you know it? Perfect fit. Yes. Purchase made $14.95, drop off at drycleaners $11.50. Nice work, even if I do say so myself.

Now, how to accessories a navy frock with white trim, tricky when one’s ‘good stuff’ is mostly black?  Too easy. Aunty Lush! She has an impressive selection of head attire. And reviewing that selection I set my sights on the luscious red hat. Dearest friend Lou Lou donated some lovely red shoes, which perfectly matched my red bag, courtesy of BFF Marita. Outfit sorted.

Totally delighted with my new frock and accessories, I simply have to seek out an extra couple of race related events to strut my stuff. Not bad for a girl who’s “not going to the races this season”. Bubbles anyone?

 

Second Adulthood

Aunty Verve here. I think I am feeling younger. I’m sure of it!

Sure at times more tired and a bit slower to recover, but definitely FEELING younger and with an enthusiasm to match.  A second adulthood.  Is that what happens once you are in your prime?

I always dreamt of living in the city (Melbourne), right in the CBD.  It’s so exciting for me now I’m in it.  It was a little challenging at first having to move from a regional area to the city, downsizing, decluttering…

But now it’s ‘let me at it’. I don’t want to miss a thing.  The shackles are off.

The great thing is that there are others out there like me!  Who would have thought we would be catching up and doing the things we loved again and again – shows, football, bands, races, rock concerts… And all with money!

Living in the CBD is fabulous.  A brand new apartment – with waterviews!   Well it had to be an investment,  new experiences rather than accumulating possessions.

I will probably have no money in 6 months and no accommodation, but for now my second adulthood is a wow of a time while it lasts.

Verve’s View – Come and Join Me!

I bought a racehorse

Friday nights, end of the working week and enjoying a well earned Savvy B with our friends and owners of the pub, the Brougham Arms Hotel in Bendigo. The Broughie is very popular and well renowned for their good food, wine and hospitality.

So here we were talking about anything and everything when one of the guys started to tell us that they had bought shares in a racehorse.

‘Oooh that sounds rather exciting’ I could hear myself say! Did I say that out loud?

‘Are you interested in buying a horse’?  My husband Stephen looked at me rather quizzically!

‘Yes I am interested’, I could hear myself say! I did say that out loud.

A couple of weeks later I received a text message from my friend Pat to say that a beautiful little 1 year old filly was for sale and that a few girls were keen on forming a syndicate to purchase her and was I still interested.

Yes ‘I bought a racehorse’.

She is gorgeous, feisty, bit ‘up herself’ and she needs a name.  Her bloodline is Haradasun (father) and Moondance (mother). We were thinking (hoping) that she’s like a smaller version of Black Caviar, so Stephen said, why not call her Ebony Roe…

I like Harada Rose (after Fighting Harada the Japanese Boxer who fought Lionel Rose), however it was taken. Maybe Harada Belle?  Have you ever named a racehorse? A child? Any ideas?

Yes I bought a racehorse!

The Pied Piper of Bali

Bali is a wonderful place, the people friendly, weather fantastic and it was fabulous to have time to spend with the aunties, outlaw aunties and nieces. I’ll treasure the memories of this holiday for a long time.

So Aunty Verve? In Bali? She’s clever, professional and always tries to do the right thing – see?

However, there is another side to this aunty. Give her a couple of drinks in an Irish Bar; music by a Balinese band and the night is looking good.

Verve took one look at the empty dance floor and promptly headed towards the other patrons – encouraging, enticing and literally dragging the women up to dance, whilst their husbands looked on in amazement!

I thought, ‘no way’ would she get them off their comfy seats, never mind put their glass down, but nothing was going to stop Aunty Verve that night. She was the ‘pied piper’ of Bali, leading the way to the dance floor to not only get them dancing, but dancing an Irish Reel to a Balinese covers band playing American rock, no doubt.

Go Verve (here with all the Aunties and a couple of side-kicks)

Love Aunty Lush

The Incident

We had a little incident over the Christmas break. Stephen’s nephew, his wife and 4 children came for a visit.  They came for dinner and as it was rather hot, Stephen thought it would be a good idea for the littlies to have a swim. Sounds great doesn’t it? However the incident showed that NONE of them could swim. Stephen’s brother David relates the story below.  Not quite right, but very funny all the same and I thought you might enjoy a telling.

“Just to let you all know that we have an unassuming heroine in our midst. The story has just been passed onto me from two different sources and I want to share with all. The location is Kerry & Steve’s place, early in the New Year. The children are playing in the backyard pool with adults chatting and “supervising” suddenly there is a yell “he is going under!!”
 
Well, her horse might be slow at the barrier, but Our Kerry is a thoroughbred and without hesitating and oblivious to the carefully applied makeup and the six inch Manolo Blahnik stilettos she dived head first into the “cement pond”.  She swan into the murky depths and  found the child, grasping the scruff of his tee shirt in her pearly whites she then swam for the surface and carried the poor soul ashore.
 
When asked later why he decided to fall arse over teakettle and make such a splash the boy said that it was an involuntary action. “All I remember is waking up in the arms of Aunty Kerry and seeing tears in her eyes.  I said don’t cry, you have saved me in time, I’ll be alright. She is skinny but she is strong, just like Wonder Woman.”
 
I doubt that Kerry will tell you the same story but we all know that the true heroes (heroines) are modest about their achievements.
 
Thank you “Wonder Woman”

YES I did dive in and save the little one, fully clothed as well… Here is Mathew, below in orange with his brother and sisters.

cheers

Aunty Lush

Snow Bunnies

When I go to the snow, I like to ski with someone who is more likely to cop an injury, or bruises, than me. And Aunty Verve is my favourite companion for this type of adventure. This year we went to Mt Hotham, with Aunty Darling and her family. I hasten to add that, unlike Aunty Darling, Verve and I do not go regularly enough to be particularly skilful. But with a bit of coaching from Darling, we can generally stay upright on the easy slopes.

At the end of a hard day’s skiing, we enjoy regaling others with our death defying tales; compare a few new bruises or even (heaven forbid) offer advice on skiing, over drinks. Lots of drinks.

At times, Aunty Verve can be a bit dangerous, not on purpose.

There we were, at the base of the summit, waiting at the gate for the chairlift, Verve leans on the gate, which releases and she slides into the path of an on-coming chairlift. I closed my eyes as Aunty Verve and the chairlift connect. I heard a nasty thud, and the empathetic groan from the folk in the queue. The ‘tow-dudes’ efficiently bundled then flung her on the first chair going up. All within seconds.

Meanwhile on another chairlift somewhere. Aunty Darling’s ski fell off and she has managed to dismount the chairlift gracefully, on one ski! You believe?

As for me, I have a reputation for not falling over, the reason (and I don’t necessarily share this with Verve and Darling) is because I can’t get up. Let’s just say I find it easier not to fall over than activate my pelvic floor muscles. And when I told my ‘loving’ sisters about a non-chairlift related spill I took. They both looked at me and said ‘GOOD’.

And THAT, my friends is why I prefer to ski with someone who is more likely to hurt themselves than I am.

Aunty Beads xxx

 

 

Game on molls…

Almost 35 years on from its premiere, the girls from ‘Prisoner’ are still breaking records, if not the occasional face. Known to many in Oz as ‘Prisoner’, family in the UK report it was called ‘Cell Block H’. Either way it became a cult classic, because chicks being bad in jail in Australia in the 80s was always going to do that.

And with a new version called ‘Wentworth’ screening, it’s time to report on some family goings on ‘back in the day’.

Aunty Beads says: “I was living in London at the time and was stunned to discover that Prisoner (renamed Prisoner Cell Block H) had a cult-status following amongst my darling friends in the gay community. I was completely mortified! There were many evenings gathered around the TV, on a cold winter’s night, gallons of red wine and lots of shuuuuushing…..and fussing about to get settled before Lizzy and Bea got their game on!”

Meanwhile back in Oz, I (Aunty Mod) would watch with long suffering brothers Tyrone and Paul. Our mother (Queen Mary) had told us we were not allowed to watch it. The sight of grown women slamming each others hands, heads or other body parts, under the steam iron must have been too much for her. Or it may have been that we once called her Lizzy Birdworth. Not happy at all.

To get around the ban we took to watching and posting a look out. Idea was that the look-out would warn us if Queen Mary was getting too close. The warning came too slow one evening.

“The wardens comin!” Paul screamed from the hallway. Tige (Tyrone) and I leapt to our feet, knocked over our red lemonade (we lived in a pub) and didn’t make it to the tele (no remotes then) to change channels before the Warden entered the room. Queen Mary (the Warden) had flames exploding from her ears. Paul had come in behind her and peeped at us behind her skirt. “What did they do?” Paul asked mum sweetly (like he wasn’t on the Prisoner team!).

So that was the end of Prisoner in our house/pub for many a long year.

Aunties Lush, Verve and Darling never got the bug they said. I was excited to see the new show ‘Wentworth’ and hit twitter during the first ep, but it had been changed, changed too much… It was too good! Welcome Back Queen Bea.