35/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Stomping on shadows while not dropping the bread...

We were on our way to lunch with friends and Jimmy was running and stomping on shadows (Pop's I think), while Daddy was taking photos. Daddy was the "official photographer" of the event and didn't have to carry any lunch supplies - Jimmy was required to help, and help he did and he did not drop that plate. 

Thanks for the lovely photo Michael!

Catching up with my brother!

It was the day of the Federal Election, and my brother was visiting Brisbane for 24 hours. So naturally, we drove the 2 hours and hung out with him. Only my Mum (aka Granny) wasn't able to come - she was handing out how to vote cards for the Greens. So, these photos are for my Mum.

My brother, Arun (aka Dirt Hand), was up for a gig the night before (he lives in Melbourne), and we had a little fun (or trouble) with the whole picking him up thing, which is not surprising as none of us have lived in Brisbane in the last year or so.

Michael and I had hoped to eat at one of our old haunts, but it wasn't to be... It was now a hair salon. Another old haunt had moved, and as Arun thought his preferred lunch venue would be super busy, we sought out the old haunt that had moved. It turned out that these places were really close to each other, and we ended up eating where Arun had wanted to go anyway - stomachs and tastes buds were after something a little different.

Lunch at Shouk was excellent. So was the coffee. And the service. And the interactions between the staff and Jimmy. And with an hour or so between Arun's flight and the end of lunch, we went to an old favourite park, because we were all in need of some fresh air.

And surprise, surprise, the park had changed and the swings were no longer there. Boo. The lack of swings didn't stop us from having fun, and we found a more Jimmy friendly playground on the other side of the park. And then it was time to take Arun to the airport and drive back to Warwick.

Naturally, we'll have to organise a catch up with him again and arrange it so that Mum can be there and so that it's more than a few hours. We may, or may not, aim for it to be in Melbourne...

34/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Helping stack the firewood...

So, it's winter, but in Warwick that sometimes means it's warm enough to wear short sleeves during the day but cold enough late at night and early in the morning for a heater. My parents ordered their last load of wood for the winter and Jimmy was helping. That's my boy!

33/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: wearing a friend's tutu, in a park, eating a snack as he heads for the play equipment, with said friend and parents close behind.

Life really doesn't get much better than if you're 3. 

32/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Steering wheel!

We went to a nearby park. It's been a park forever, but I don't remember playing there as a child. These days there's some nice but weathered play equipment under some shade cloth and we took Jimmy there a few times and he loved it. Especially the steering wheel (and the helicopter, but I didn't get as nice a photo of him on it). The playground is a bit small for daily visits, but definitely good on a weekly rotation.

31/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Heading out to see the sights...

Warwick's Jumpers and Jazz in July Festival was in full swing and we all went to the rummage sale. For most people the highlights were the yarn-bombed trees, local crafts and foods, but I quite like this photo that takes me back to the days when Jimmy was just learning to walk. 

30/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Because there's no such thing as too many muddy puddles when you're 3...

Yes, clearly we kept Jimmy too clean while at Carnarvon Gorge, so he was eager to be useful and help Daddy planting grass seeds out the back. Yes, the mud stained his t-shirt and shoes, but not his pants. And yes, it was fantastic fun.

Currawongs Playground visits a currawong playground... AKA Carnarvon Gorge

Before we left Manhattan, KS, there was much discussion about when my mum should take 2 weeks holidays: our first 2 weeks back or 2 weeks after Queensland's winter school holidays. Once it was decided that the latter would be better, because we would be over our jetlag and any travel related illnesses, we had to decide what to do or where to go. I suggested Carnarvon Gorge and the rest, so to speak, is history! Photo heavy, so please keep reading...

29/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Drinking something warm at dinner...

There are more photos coming I promise and not just because we had a wonderful, albeit rained in, time at Carnarvon Gorge and Takarakka Bush Resort.

Scenes from Warwick...

One week after we landed, we were still suffering from the jetlag and Jimmy's body clock was still a little all over the place. Jimmy woke up around 4 or 5 am and sometime after 6 am we realised that there was no going back to bed, so we decided to go outside. 

It was a beautiful crisp morning. A little hazy from woodfire smoke but frosty and fresh - the kind of morning that I love. The kind of morning I used to walk to school in, imagining living overseas in a colder climate where this sort of weather was longer lasting (England preferably) and yet hurrying to school where I could warm up my legs because my heavy school skirt was not good protection from the cold.

We were hoping to pat the horses, but they were too far away and too busy eating grass. It was a vision straight out of my childhood and it was extra special to have Jimmy there taking in the scene.

The only thing we were missing was a wallaby or two. We had magpies singing their morning songs, our breath making little puffs of mist, and a kookaburra too. The gum trees and dry grass were magic too. The sky was the same winter blue I remembered. Magpies still sing from the tops of power line poles.

And seeing our breath-puffs, or "blowing air" as Jimmy says, was just as entertaining that morning, while we were on our way to feed Pop's chickens, as it was when I was a child. It might not have been snow, but the frosty morning was a nice change from the Manhattan, KS, summer and +40 degrees C temperatures we had been experiencing.

The sight of my little boy running towards Pop's chickens, rugged up against the cold was just a bit too much and my heart melted: he's wearing all his Manhattan clothes but he's in Warwick. He is simultaneously at home and out of place.

He is definitely at home amongst the chickens. As his first turn pouring out the couscous, he had a little trouble, but he loved it. He pats the chickens, talks to them, and thanks them for their eggs. The chickens were not affected by the cold and happily ate up their early breakfast. They are lovely birds.

Our early morning walk ended in a familiar scene: Jimmy asking to be carried because his feet were cold. And they were - his canvas sneakers were wet from frost melting as it settled on them. My sweet boy... he needs new gumboots, and then he'll be set for all the frosty morning walks he can handle.

Except that his body clock has adjusted, he wakes around 6:30 am, and we no longer need to entertain him in the wee hours.

28/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Three!

Yikes. My baby is a little boy. His face is changing but sometimes it takes a photo taken at just the right moment to see it. Jimmy is three years old and will tell you, if you ask him.

27/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Taking it all in...

One week in and jetlag was still causing disruptions... including waking at 4 am and not going back to sleep (as may have been the case the morning this photo was taken). It was cold out and as we had given up on the notion that getting any more sleep, we rugged up and went to see if there were any horses across the road. There were no horses, but there were a few magpies. 

Dealing with the winter funk...

Spring might be on its way in Kansas, but winter might be heading your way so I thought I'd divulge how we've dealing (or not dealing) with the winter funk...

1) What's the word? Escapism! Thanks to Netflix we've made our way through Breaking Bad, tried to watch Jessica Jones, we enjoyed all 7 seasons of Star Trek Deep Space 9 interrupted by the latest Doctor Who season... and are now making our way through Star Trek Voyager. We might be nerds, but we're distracted nerds.

2) Tea! But not just any tea: my parents sent us some T2 tea and we've been enjoying the chai in the evenings. There's something about a cup of spicy tea when the north wind is howling and it's too cold to even think about going outside (even if the bin is overflowing...).

3) Wearing all of our clothes. Ok, so we don't actually wear togs swimwear over underwear followed by thermals, two pairs of pants, five pairs of socks, five tops, three jumpers sweaters, and two hats, but it sometimes feels that way... Especially when doing the laundry... But! we're warm and have managed to go the whole winter with the thermostat set at something close to 17 degrees C (it reads "65" and is in Fahrenheit.).*

4) Go outside and soak up some rays... Well... We do, even if the sun is rather weak and we're still pasty after a sunny week... It helps, it really does, even if it's -6 C and only our noses are exposed (if you can believe it).

5) Doing things we enjoy. Be it running around the living room trying to wrangle Jimmy into PJ's, learning a new skill (using a pipet, in Jimmy's case) or reading the very last of the late Terry Pratchett's works, or knitting (what? Did you think I'd leave that out?), we're trying to keep things fun and light.

It's been a tough winter, even though it was milder than last years - because why is it so cold when there's no snow? Seriously, what's with the daytime highs of sub-zero without snow? What's the point?

The cold here is either fresh and brisk or it seeps into the bones and there is no remedy other than a warm drink or shower. I brought some greenery into the place, but it's not the same... And the lack of snow has made for a dull, cold few months. I'm glad to see the end of them. Unless there's snow, then it can be cold.

Other ways of dealing with winter funk:
- Red lipstick anyone?
- A small wardrobe addition and change from wool base layers.
- Knitting with coloured wool (only!)

Here's to the coming spring :)


*The last week or two have turned warm, warm enough to wear sandals and leave a window open until 10pm.

9/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Playing outside, enjoying the lovely weather.

So, yes, I knitted the vest and yes he didn't want to put it on ("too 'pikey"), but he wore it all day. I swear it's a few inches too short, but then he does like to wear his pants very low. And yes, Michael took these lovely photos of our boy looking very dapper, pausing in his independent and completely unstructured play to pose for a few photos.

8/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2016

Jimmy: Bursting through the doors!

Yep. That's my boy. His enthusiasm for the playground at the local school never ceases to amaze me and Michael. Even when it's really cold out and he should be wearing his fluffy coat. Thanks to Michael for the camera work, the timing, and for braving the cold.