The Plunge Down Under

Post Cards From Canada: Cousin Maxine's Cottage

I can’t say for sure when I made my first visit to Maxine’s cottage, but I can guarantee that whenever it was I hoped that my initial encounter wouldn’t be the last.   Thanks to Maxine’s kindness, it wasn’t. Ross, the children, and I have been coming here for a week or two nearly every summer since Sophie was a baby, and many are the happy memories of the time so spent.

I have been mulling over what exactly it is that I appreciate about this particular place.  Is it the water lapping against the shore, lulling us to sleep every night?  Or the loons calling out to each other from across the lake?  Or perhaps the millions of stars visible in the night sky, or the fact that we are so far removed from the city that we actually notice the phases of the moon?  If it is absent from the sky at night, for instance, we miss its light.  

There there is the delight of our children in the water, catching minnows with nets when they were little and splashing about in colorful life jackets.  As they got older, the nets were exchanged for proper fishing rods.  The excitement when they snared their first bass three years ago was a moment we will never forget.  It was proudly eaten for breakfast the next morning, a ceremony that was repeated just today.

It is also quite likely that my happy thoughts of this place are influenced by the quality of sleep we get each night that we spend here.  It is that kind of deep, restful sleep that those of us who are insomniacs rarely experience in our day-to-day life.  It is the kind of sleep that leaves me wondering for a few delicious moments each morning exactly where I am.  I smile when I remember and go back to sleep for a bit longer.  This rest has been especially appreciated this time around, and I have allowed myself to sleep for nine, ten, even eleven hours in one stretch.  Pure bliss after after last week's deficit.

I cannot think of the cottage, however, without coming back to the generous spirit of its owner.  Maxine has welcomed us so kindly each year, and has taken such an interest in our children, that we are humbled when we consider it.  This she has done in spite of numerous mishaps over the years:  the spilled coffee on the white sofa, the broken vintage teakettle, the bloodstains from leeches on the quilts, misplaced items, broken blinds, and no doubt many other things I have forgotten.

As I finish typing this post on Tuesday morning, the skies are gray, and the rain has been beating steadily on the roof for over an hour.  We have never before seen the cottage in so much rain, but I can now say with authority that it is beautiful even without its trademark sunny blue skies.  For these few peaceful days we have enjoyed here while catching up with Ross’s family, we are most grateful.  Thank you, Maxine, for sharing with us your little piece of heaven on earth.

Thanks as well to Aunt Marion for contributing several photos for this post. 

Post Cards from Canada: Fredericton

 As you have probably guessed by this point, we did manage to survive our turbo prop airplane ride from Toronto to Fredericton.  In fact our time on board flew by, probably because we sank almost immediately into an exhausted sleep. Shortly after we woke up, we heard a most welcome landing announcement, and in no time at all we were walking down the steps of the tiny plane gulping in the fresh, country air.  As far as I know we don't have adequate adjectives in the English language to describe these wonderful smells.  Fresh and clean are the closest I can come, but they don’t begin to do it justice.

The small arrivals hall in the Fredericton airport was jammed with friendly folk meeting the plane load. This was our seventh airport since we left Melbourne, and it was a very nice change indeed to walk in and find four smiling, familiar faces to greet us. Uncle Barry and Aunt Marion accompanied Ross's parents and helped to make us feel very welcome. This pleasant reunion was followed by dinner at Canada's top family restaurant, Swiss Chalet.  I ordered the usual quarter chicken dinner with Swiss Chalet's trademark dipping sauce.

It was later that evening, as we drove out into the country to the small town of Harvey, that we came across the black bear I wrote about in the last post.  We found Maxine's cottage just as we remembered it, with a few improvements from previous years.  Cousin Maxine had this cottage built in 1972, and has been spending the summers here ever since.  We treasure every opportunity to stay in it, but I will write more about that in a future post.  Beds have never felt better than they did that night, and I slept for close to eleven hours.

Ross's parents had not only stocked the cottage with drinking water and plenty of food for our breakfast, they also invited us in for a lasagna dinner the next day, followed by a present-opening fest for the children.  Childhood friends stopped by a bit later for a visit, and brought with them a little guy that got on famously with James.

Fredericton is a pretty little city of 56,000 people located on the St. John River.  The first European contact was made by the French in the late 17th Century.  It served as the French capital of Acadia before becoming a haven for Loyalists after the American Revolution.  By 1784 it had become the capital city of the British colony of New Brunwick.  I had great plans of photographing its forts, cemeteries, and beautiful wooden houses for this post, many of them located along the scenic river, but the steady rain has interfered with my plans.  Instead, we have been eating, and I will share with you a few of the foods that I associate with this area of the world.  

Poutine is a French dish that is on nearly every menu in this part of Canada.  I have never tried it before today, but could no longer resist.  It consists of french fries and cheese curds covered in a rich beef gravy.  I have to say that it tasted better than I expected, although I think it would be more appropriately consumed after a full day of snow skiing. 

Yesterday for lunch we had fish chowder and blueberry pie, and it struck me that both are trademark foods of both eastern Canada and the eastern U.S.  The fish chowder was made locally in Harvey, and I thought it was funny that as I drove into town to pick it up with Ross's mother, one of the three cars that we met was driven by a cousin.

Saltines were the perfect accompaniment to our fish chowder.  They just don't make them like this in Australia.

Last, but definitely not least, is a photo of the boiled icing chocolate cake left for us by Maxine.  Yum.

 

Post Cards from Canada: Fair Dinkum Wilderness

As we described our North American itinerary to friends in Melbourne a few weeks ago, we joked that our visit to Canada would take us deep into the wilderness. Harvey Lake, our current location, can hardly be described as wilderness. We have running water, electricity, a strong phone signal, and several other creature comforts.

Yesterday evening, however, as we drove the forty-five minutes from New Brunswick's capital city, Fredericton, to Harvey Lake, we were convinced we had in fact entered wilderness territory. Ross had been bugging the children to watch out for moose along the side of the highway. He even offered a dollar to the first child who spotted one. They merely grunted and returned to their handheld devices. We know that moose exist in high numbers here, but in all our years of searching the roadsides eagerly, we have yet to encounter one.

Ross can be persistent. As the rest of us resumed our various forms of entertainment he continued to search the edges of the forest. Not surprisingly he never did spot a moose. What he did glimpse from the corner of his eye, however, caused him to pull off the highway in a hurry. The biggest black bear we have ever seen was gazing at us from a nearby bush.

My first reaction was to reach for my camera. It was unfortunately hidden amongst the pile of suitcases and carryons piled into our van. I realized my phone would work in a pinch but by the time Ross pulled over and backed up, the bear had retreated to the safety of the forest. I jumped out hoping to catch at least his backside but to no avail.

When we related this story later that evening we were told that not long ago a lack bear decided to hang out on a local school playground, forcing the children to remain indoors. We haven't seen another bear, or any other large wild animal for that matter, since last night. What we have experienced are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of mosquitoes. They are without mercy, and swarms of them feasted on our blood tonight with total disregard for the insect repellant that had been liberally replied.

If we had been wiser we would have remained indoors. But after the confinement of fourteen hours of travel yesterday, followed by never-ending rain showers today, Cameron, James and I finally decided to head outdoors whatever the conditions. The boys had a glorious time fishing while I captured what I could with the camera. We paused only to slap the pesky, whining, insatiable creatures, often killing two at a time. I have a feeling we will regret our decision tomorrow. As for tonight, we have no regrets. I look forward to sharing the photos as soon as we are back in range of a wireless signal. Perhaps we are in the wilderness after all.

Post Cards from North America: On to Toronto

I'm checking in from the Toronto Pearson International Airport where we have found a relatively quiet corner to pass the five hours waiting for our flight to Fredericton, New Brunswick.  Considering that we spent fewer than five hours at our Atlanta hotel last night, we are holding up reasonably well.  Tim Hortons coffee and timbits have helped, as have free wireless and ample power outlets. Indeed it is almost frightening to contemplate just how dependent we feel on the latter two commodities.  As we pulled away from our vacation spot on Hilton Head Island yesterday evening and watched the wireless bars fade away on our various handheld devices, Katie complained that we were cutting her off from civiliation.

The drive from Savannah to Atlanta confirmed our feelings.  We had no idea the middle of Georgia was so empty.  With the exception of the city of Macon and a McDonalds in Dublin, we encountered little more than the piney trees bordering the wide open highway.  The lack of rest areas caused some distress, as did jabbing elbows and bickering children until I managed to separate all four of them by planting myself in the middle seat of the middle row of our big old American-sized rental SUV.

Somehow we managed to drop off our rental vehicle in the maze of the Atlanta airport and make our way to our hotel with seven suitcases, six carry-ons, and four children who could barely hold their heads upright.   After checking in I realized a key bag containing most of our power cords had been left behind in our vehicle.  This meant Ross had to go back and attempt to retrieve it.  Meanwhile I fired up the computer to look at our flight only to realize that we were staying near the wrong terminal.  Atlanta opened up a new international terminal just last month, and of course that's the one used by Air Canada.  As a result, Ross decided we had better get up at 4am instead of 4:30 in order to make our 6:25 flight.  I have long since recognized the futility of arguing with him over departure times that involve flying and did not utter even one word of protest.  I had no energy to do so in any case.

Checking in the six of us at the airport is nearly always an arduous procedure.  I am positive it takes about the same amount of time as checking in twenty individuals.  This morning was no exception.  All three agents were required to sort out our tickets which had been booked using airmiles, and then the computer did not allow our luggage to be added for quite some time.  Eventually we had to pay an extra $50 which seemed to make the computer happy.  I snapped a picture of James as we waited, and waited, and waited.

We had the privilege of flying on a small commuter jet, quite the contrast to the 747 that transported us from Sydney to Los Angeles.  It will hopefully have prepared us for the tiny prop plane that is scheduled for the next leg of our journey.  Here's a picture of our first plane.

I am embarrassed to confess that I am struggling with figuring out which coins to use to pay for small items.  I had finally reacquainted myself with the American quarter and paper dollar bill, only to arrive in Canada with its loonies and twoonies.  My loose change has become one messy jumble from three different countries, and when I tried to pay for a journal for Sophie just now with an Australian two dollar coin, the clerk scolded me for trying to use a Euro coin.  I think I will blame this on lack of sleep.  

I conclude this post with a few photos taken on Hilton Head Island during my favorite time of day there, sunset.  Enjoy, and be sure to look for the dolphin in the last one.

 

More Post Cards: Fishing, Sand Castles, and Ice Cream Cones

Our time on Hilton Head Island is drawing to a close all too quickly.  I have collected a few pictures from the past few days for this post including several taken by my brother Greg.  Yesterday we traded cameras a couple of times, and photos from both are mixed together below.

Cameron would have liked to have been on board one of the many deep sea fishing boats that go past us early every morning.  A few years ago Ross decided to take the older children, but all of them ended up spending the majority of the trip staring into a bowl or hanging their heads over the side.  So he decided to just buy a pole and fish from the shore this year.  

Nearby, sand castles were being constructed under the direction of Andy.

A few of us stayed put and enjoyed the view from underneath the umbrellas.

Later in the afternoon more cousins arrived to help with the sand castle building, and to provide additional admiration for the fishermen.

The fishermen enjoyed a successful afternoon, which kept Ross busy.  Occasionally bikers stopped by to examine the latest catch.

Snaring two sting rays provided the most excitement.

What is a day at the beach without at least one trip for ice cream cones?  Not a good one in the opinion of the Wilkin children.  I think on the fifth day they managed to go twice.  Cookie Monster was a popular choice with the younger ones.

This just might be the best shot of the whole week.  

Appetites fully satisfied and then some, we walked back home underneath the shade of the sea pines.

 

 

Postcards from North America: Hilton Head Island Days 2 and 3

I don't have many photos of our second day on Hilton Head Island.  For one thing, James and I had very little sleep the night before, and for another, I don't feel the best way to reconnect with my family is by sticking a camera in front of their faces.  That is probably one reason why I have so many pictures of my one-year-old niece. It simply doesn't feel to me as if it is as much of an intrustion to photograph her.  Plus she is absolutely adorable.

We have been coming to Hilton Head Island since Sophie was a toddler.  Ross warned me early in our marriage that he would never be the type of person to take the same beach vacation year after year.  As regular readers would be well aware, he does like to get around, but all it took was one visit to Hilton Head, and he was hooked. We have come here every summer since 2004 except the last one, and a few of the times family members have joined us.  We love the shady live oaks that have been well preserved in spite of the development of the island, as well as the numerous wildlife viewing opportunities.  Over the years we have encountered brown pelicans, terns, seagulls, loggerhead sea turtles, manatees, and the ever-present dolphins in the Calibogue Sound.

Both our second and third days unfolded in a similar manner to the first day.  We are forcing ourselves to get up between 7am and 9am although our bodies are telling us it is just the right time to fall into a deep night time sleep.  The ocean air, sea breezes, sunshine, and the laughter of the children have been a big help.  We have also enlisted the usual caffeine sources, with even Katie drinking a cup of java first thing.  That reminds me that earlier today, Sophie and her slightly younger cousin snuck a can of coke from the refrigerator and poured it into coffee cups before taking the contraband to the living room to drink.  Their giggles gave them away quite quickly.

The Wilkin family has several traditions for our week at Hilton Head.  One of the most important involves riding bikes all the way from South Beach to Harbor Town, where Ross buys the children large waffle cones for breakfast.  We also like to eat at the nearby Japanese steak house, because the food is tasty, it is served almost immediately, and the show put on by the chefs never fails to delight the children.

After the ice cream bike ride, we usually end up on the beach under umbrellas, followed by a dip in the swimming pool just before dinner.  As bedtime approached for the children on the second day, Sophie and I took the youngest cousin for a stroll.

Next you have the baby of our group taking care of her new baby, with a cousin poking up his head at just the right moment.

James has spent hours during the past two days just like this:

We had ice cream for breakfast on the third day, and it was served again just before bedtime.  This little girl had a marvelous time finishing hers.

Post Cards from North America: Hilton Head Island, Day 1

The close of our first full day back in North America finds the Wilkins all a bit confused and more than a bit weary, but grateful for pitch perfect weather and the blessings of a family reunited once again.  I hope you enjoy the picture journey through the latter half of our day. Dolphin sightings and soaring pelicans aside, in my opinion it is my one-year-old niece that steals the show.

I am borrowing the idea for a "post cards from" series of blog post titles from Rebecca over at My Whit's End.  Thanks Rebecca!

Hello Summer

I am happy to report that we have arrived safely in Los Angeles, and that all members of the family slept at least two hours before breakfast was served at 1:30am Melbourne time.  I thought I would record the following observations from our first hour or so on American soil.

**Waiting in line for one hour at immigration following a night's sleep that lasted between two and four hours depending on the family member promotes neither sibling harmony nor patient parents.  

**After spending fifteen hours on an airplane, we are generally in such a hurry to deplane that we leave several items behind.  The list this time includes but may not be limited to one ipod, one brand new set of head phones, one valued hairbrush, and one sorely missed pack of gum.

**Mercifully the construction at the LA international arrivals terminal has been completed.  We hardly recognized our surroundings.  The staff seemed much friendlier, perhaps partly as a result of their brand new building, and rather than being greeted with the traditional frowns and yelling at security, we were ushered into a family friendly area.  The younger children did not even need to remove their shoes, and the security officials actually smiled at us.  This is a very welcome change. 

**Hearing the nasal tones of the American accent  is somewhat jarring after being away from it for nearly one year--not unpleasant, just different.

**The cool summer breezes outside the terminal building were most welcome, but the layout of the roadways and the direction that the cars were driving around the terminal seemed wrong, wrong, wrong.

**I have happy feelings toward tmobile at the moment because they are providing free wifi at the LA airport.

**The only place we could find to eat lunch in the Delta terminal was McDonalds.  I decided to go hungry rather than have McDonalds for my first meal, but Ross and the kids were happy to put away the junk food.  Ross reports that the long line moved with a remarkable speed virtually unknown in Australia.  I'm not sure if that's altogether positive or not. 

**Our next stop is Atlanta, followed by a short hop to Savannah and then a few days with my family at Hilton Head Island.   I will leave you with with a couple of photos from the last of autumn in Australia.

Bittersweet

I started the following post three months ago, but rather than finish it then, I chose to live in denial rather than face the prospect of one of those gut-wrenching good-byes.  Denial is no longer possible, and so today, I offer this post as a tribute to a dear friend.

23 March 2012

I had lunch with my friend Crystal Keller a few weeks ago. It was wonderful to spend a few hours with her over both coffee and tea and more substantial fare but bittersweet as well given the news that she and her family have made the decision to move back to the U.S. after living here for five years.  Crystal was my first friend in Melbourne.  She showed up on my doorstep with flowers the very day after I reached out in desperation and introduced myself through an email. In so doing, she earned my lifelong gratitude, and her friendship is one that I will always cherish. 

I have not spent nearly as much time with the Kellers as I would have liked, but I grieve their loss already. Among many other things, the Kellers took us on our first significant excursion in Australia, a trip to Mt. Donna Buang, to have a play in the snow.  Next they introduced us to the pleasures of Hanging Rock, now a Wilkin family favorite.  This past November we shared an American Thanksgiving dinner together, along with several of the many friends they have collected during their five years in Australia.

Crystal and I have shared many things over the past two years, both American moms living in Melbourne struggling to do the best job we can raising our children in the Christian faith.  We have understood each other in that special way that sharing a unique situation can bring to a relationship, from the small humorous things that trip up an American down under--"I'm sorry, you mean to say you didn't make a booking?  I'm afraid we can't serve you today "-- to the deeper questions of life: "Why exactly are we living on this earth and how should we be spending the life we have been granted?".  I have admired Crystal's enthusiasm for living, her genuine compassion for all those with whom she comes in contact, and I have benefitted from her many suggestions on how to make the most of our Aussie adventure. We all of us in the Wilkin family have, for that matter, and we recognize our debt to her.  

14 June 2012

On Wednesday of this week Crystal and I met up for our last adventure together in a city that we have both grown to love.  I don't believe that we had been off the train for more than two minutes when we both looked at each other and agreed that finding food was our first priority.  Fortunately Melbourne has much to offer in the line of good eats.  Crystal had always wanted to try the well-known Hopetoun Tea Room, located in the Block Arcade, so off we went, enjoying a few of Melbourne's lanes and arcades along the way.

We arrived at the Tea Room too early for lunch, so we decided to start with dessert.  The only difficulty was making a final selection after admiring all of the cakes on offer.

I ended up with the raspberry pistachio cheesecake, which I promptly devoured, while Crystal selected the lime tart.

In due course we did order a proper lunch, none the worse for having started with dessert, and after an hour or two of lingering over tea cups, we wandered around the city for some time according to the whim of the moment.  It was a beautiful day, with perfect weather, gorgeous food, and more importantly, the celebration of one of God's most beautiful gifts to us, that of friendship.  To Crystal and her family I offer my heartfelt wishes and prayers for a successful transition back to the United States.  That there will be pain and difficulty in the process is a given, and yet we both agreed that we can be grateful for that very pain.  Lives that are rich in love, in joy, and in friendship must necessarily be rich in sadness as well.  

Godspeed, my friend.  If you do not show up one day on our doorstep in Pittsburgh, I will make my way to yours.

Beyond the Tram Tracks

It's a holiday weekend here in Australia.  We have Monday off in honor of the Queen's birthday, and the timing this year seems especially appropriate given the recent celebration of her Jubilee.  Everyone with whom I have spoken seems grateful for the long weekend, and I include myself amongst that group.  Cameron is especially pleased as it is his birthday weekend as well.

Last year we took advantage of the Queen's birthday to travel to Sydney for our first official visit, where we had an eventful experience in spite of the cold, rainy weather.  This year we are staying close to home in anticipation of our upcoming trip to North America.  We leave this coming Saturday morning for nearly four weeks of catching up with family and friends in the northern hemisphere.  

The weather has been fairly lousy so far this weekend, although Monday is promising sunshine. Cameron tried to get in some footy throwing and catching on Saturday, but as soon as it stopped raining sufficiently to make an attempt, the rain started right back up again.  His spirits were undaunted, as he is our child that thrives in the cold and the wet, but Ross and I stayed close to the fire. From attempting to throw the football, Cameron moved on to playing the wii alternated with rounds of his favorite board game, Settlers of Catan.

It may be winter in Melbourne, but Cameron wanted trifle for his pre-birthday dessert on Friday night, and ice cream cake for the actual day.  Sadly I didn't think to take a photo of the strawbery and raspberry cream trifle.  I was more interested in eating it than photographing it I think, but it is a recipe that I will be repeating so perhaps next time . . . 

On Sunday afternoon Sophie had a delightful time playing American Girl dolls with her imaginative and creative friend Harriet.  Fed up with being indoors, they set up outside in spite of the rain, taking advantage of our covered patio, and using beach towels to protect their dolls and gear.  

They must have enjoyed themselves, because they repeated the same play on Monday afternoon, when the sun finally made its long awaited appearance.

After several weeks of hard work at school, Katie has spent her holiday weekend hibernating in her bedroom, emerging from time to time to practice the flute, have a chat, or to make cookies.  I don't have pictures of her, but I did take the camera outdoors in the late afternoon sunshine in an attempt to capture the neighbor's beautiful flowers.  I'll end this post by including some of those photos along with my latest language notes.

From the kids:

My toothpaste only has a couple more goes (Cameron).

I am just busting to make it to the next level (James).

epic, awkward, rebel---words that Sophie and her classmates use as often as possible in their conversations.

From other sources:

from strength to strength:  

 This is a phrase I hear all the time down under, especially when attending school parent association meetings.  "In recent months, the Friends of Music Association has gone from strength to strength. (Insert yawn as an exhaustive list of recent achievements will be sure to follow this assertion).

 

at some stage

I don't know when I first noticed this phrase, but it gets a constant workout in Melbourne.  When Ross and I were in Sydney I made a joke of pointing out every time he used it---several times an hour as I recall.  "We need to discuss increasing the children's allowance at some stage."  Should we call home at some stage?

that's a big ask

Translates into: "That's a big favor to ask of you."  This is another example of using verbs as nouns, almost as popular here as the ubiquitous nicknames. Speaking of nicknames,  I recently discovered one of Ross's nicknames at work, Chicken Little.  If you know Ross, this is probably not too surprising as he tends to take the pessimistic view of just about everything.  

out in the wop wops

I knew immediately that this was not a flattering phrase.  When I asked for clarification, I was told, "you know, beyond the tram tracks." For a diehard Melburnian, this is something you do only when absolutely necessary.  Why risk leaving culture and civilization behind out in the wop wops if you can possibly avoid it?  Better to remain safely within the tram tracks.

We will soon be travelling far, far outside of the tram tracks, which means a busy few days ahead for me.  I will be sure to update the blog during our journeys.  Thanks for going along with us for the ride.