The Royal Show!
September 29, 2005
Filed under:The Number Nine
Sunday, I got my first taste of an official event here in Perth…
The Royal Show
It’s basically Six Flags and the County Fair combined, and it comes ’round once a year in the Spring. You ride rides, you pet goats, and you eat Cotton Cand… um… “Fairy Floss.” Yeah, I know, I didn’t quite get it either. I mean, what kind of freak wants to floss a fairy?
We ran around like idiots until the Monster Trucks came out, then the fireworks oohed and aaahed us all the way home to bed.
A seriously good time was had by all.
 My brother-in-law Chris needs to focus on driving instead of his fancy new camera. |
 My beautiful wife on the phone with her sister. |
 Bein’ all cute and stuff. |
 Bein’ all completely inappropriate and stuff. Sharnie, on the right, is Chris’s girlfriend and absolutely lives for the Royal Show and all it’s assorted rides. |
 I can’t imagine having a dog that drools so much it needs a bib, but it’s still damn funny. |
 I kept making the joke about how much a breeder would have to botch a pup to get it to turn out looking like a big hairy sleeping human… much to the delight of myself, and myself only. |
 Any animal within 10 feet of my wife instantly gravitates to her, a la The Pied Piper. |
 This baby goat got a bit TOO friendly and tried making out with her. My repeated threats did nothing to scare him, much to my dismay. |
 Chris’s attempts to make out with the camel weren’t appreciated by the camel or nearby onlookers. |
 I’m demonstrating my ability to interject my jackass self into any nearby photo-opportunity. |
 We all attacked the bumper cars with enthusiasm known only to Formula One drivers. |
 She grits her teeth in car-bumping determination… |
 I bear down on camera-boy as he’s about to become one of my many victims. |
 Chris poses triumphantly with the first of his trophies. |
 More couply cuteness. I can get away with wearing Aussie touristy hats because I’m American dammit. |
 Sharnie tends to be the only one on any given ride that flails her arms and legs like a lunatic, yet never seems to scream like one. She’s a champ. |
 After we got settled down on the Grounds-surrounding lawn, and the Monster Truck in front of us moved, the fireworks knocked our socks clean off. |
 Seriously, the closest I’ve ever been to a big-time fireworks show, and it was fifteen shades of coolness. |
 We purchased “Show Bags” for the kids since they didn’t get to come with us. Overpriced themed plastic bags with assorted toys and stuff inside bring absolute elation to any kid. |
 Georgia got the PowerPuff girls predominantly because of the giant hammer. |
 Damon got the Batman costume… predominantly because he and I both agree that Batman is just about the coolest crimefighter ever. |
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More round the pad pics and such
September 29, 2005
Filed under:The Number Nine
Another day spent playing around in the backyard, camera in hand, and fully posable children running amok. If you notice a decided lack of pictures of my little girl, it’s because she’s incredibly busy being naughty somewhere… or having a nap. Heh.
My other father-in-law gave us the punching bag and gloves, and I finally got it hung where it provides pugilistic excitement for the whole family. The “Hulk Smash” arms were a gift from friends, and make a not-at-all-annoying-noise when they hit something.
And by “not-at-all” I mean “furiously.”
Also, “HULK SMASH” turns into “HRGLKLK SHMSHHSHSH” when the batteries get low, and that’s great fun.
 My boy poses like a champ. |
 But is a little too concerned with the camera for a good solid punch. |
 He lets me borrow his toys occasionally, and I get to be awesome too. |
 Then he lets loose with his own “Hulk Smash” and the accompanying facials. |
 Hulking mom in the head. Long as it’s not his sister, I guess. |
 My little Pie figures that her brother’s Spidey Hat and Batman backpack mean that she’s going to school too. |
 That kid is freakin’ ADORABLE. |
 As I was viewing photos already taken, the boy wanted his snapped, and I caught him looking quite sweet. |
 He insisted on taking mine immediately after, and his skills need some work. |
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Why I am here.
September 25, 2005
Filed under:The Number Nine
Written on Friday, posted Sunday morning. Sorry about the delay. Stupid Eagles lost the Grand Final and it was quite a disappointment.
And by “disappointment” I mean, “Boy, did we get drunk.” Heh.
“Kids’ll do that,” she says as I explain that I had an inspiration to write while doing the dishes and have now lost it.
We’ve been cleaning the house today in preparation for having folks over for the Footy Grand Final tomorrow and I had not only the strongest urge to write but also had the words almost all formulated in my head.
As I sat down outside in the evening sun, cracked open a beer, and popped open this laptop, my mind went blank. The 2-year old is playing with a soccer ball and the 4-year old is playing with a jump rope, and I’m still enough of a kid inside that I wanted to play as well… or at least watch happily.
I suppose that it’s not all bad that “kids’ll do that.” I’m not complaining one single bit.
I’d wanted to sit down and write a bit about why I’m here. I’ve gone through my email address book and realized that I’ve sent invitations to read this blog to folks that I haven’t contacted in quite some time. Some of you may or may not know much about what brought me to Australia and I thought I’d take a step to remedy this.
I don’t want to go completely factual and lay out a chronological series of events, nor do I want to go completely romantical and spout the poetic and beautiful story of our love. I think I’d like to write about happiness.
It’s bright and it’s beautiful and it shines like the sun, this happiness, and it is truly the reason that I’m here.
I met someone and I fell in love. Practicalities and logistics were strongly against anything really coming from this though, and emotional baggage and cynicism seemed certain to quell anything that may have possibly kept a shred of hope alive. I took a leap anyway. Undoubtedly the most impulsive and spontaneous thing I’ve ever done with my life.
I flew around the world simply to see what would happen if I did. And I found happiness. And it found me. At the end of one week with her, we were engaged.
And we were both happy. Happier than we’d ever imagined we could be.
I had to leave though, because of laws and rules and the responsibilities I’d created from a life lived before her. She’d have come with me, but for two small children created from a lived life before me.
We parted, and the happiness left us. We hung on to what we could though and, when I returned after two of the worst months of my life, we were married. A small, private, ceremony at the JOP’s office (or the equivalent anyway) that was no less beautiful and wonderful than a big-poofy-dress-with-hundreds-of-guests wedding.
Then, I had to leave again. To finalize the parting of me and my life and it’s responsibilities, and I endured the actual two worst months of my life. The happiness was almost completely gone, but hope and faith never faltered for a second.
Now I am here. Where I truly belong. And we’re happy.
In the time before I left the States, as well as since I’ve started this blog, I’ve heard from a great many people from my life and have been the beneficiary of many wonderful words and wishes. For this I am incredibly grateful.
I started to wonder about something though, and I thought about how I’d feel if someone I knew had told me that they’d done something similar to what I’d done.
I had a great job at a great company. I was making decent money and my path seemed fairly set. I had lots of friends and a dog and a truck and a house and hockey and lots of stuff. I shed my worldly possessions, gave away my dog, quit my job, and moved halfway around the world.
If someone I knew had told me that they were doing this, I’d have, at some point (probably after copious amounts of alcohol) had asked, “Why? Seriously, what the hell are you doing?” (depending on the amount of alcohol, there would probably have been a bit more swearing than that).
I can’t help but think that some of the people I know have burned to ask me this same question.
My answer, as I hope would be the same of anyone else’s, would be simple.
Happiness.
I can spout any combination of words and phrases like completeness, contentment, or in-love, but they simply wouldn’t do this proper justice.
Quite simply, I am happy, truly happy. And for as happy as I am, I have done the same for the most important person in the world to me.
I’ve tried, and I can’t think of a better reason for what I’ve done than that.
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