road trippin to bribie island

I took a road trip with my two favourite allies yesterday. Big Buddy and Buddy. We had a mission for Buddy to eat sand. Well, to enjoy his first feel of sand then eat it like all kids do. So we did that. And he did that. And he was fascinated by the stuff falling apart in his hands.  A normally boisterous little boy was speechless.  I need to get me some more sand!

Big Buddy will kill me for posting a photo where he’s showing off some butt crack.  But (pardon the pun) what’s some butt crack between friends?

Then we walked around Bribie Island a bit. It’s not a bad spot.  Still stuck in yester-year, and a bit down in the dumps. Retiree central, so Aldi on a pension-day-wednesday is a no go zone unless you want to engage in some serious trolley war. But really lovely beaches.

Found an old style lifeguard tower. Lay in a park and let Buddy practice standing. Watched some oldies have chips and coke for breakfast while reading the paper, like it was their Saturday ritual. I’m just putting it out there, but that might not be the best thing for the old ticker and knee joints. Who am I to judge – my Saturday ritual is milo with a dash of tea.

We stomped in the waves. Let ourselves sink as the water went out. Got sand in our ears and up our bum. Chased Buddy’s ball as it floated unnoticed out to sea.

Saw some maggies.  They ate my banana.  Drove home through this massive storm cell. The unpredictability of mother nature fascinates me.  Perhaps I can see some of her in myself. The beauty that is, not the fury.  OK, sometimes the fury.Fed the cows. Sat on the grass. Chatted to the cows. Amber says hello and that I should fix my hair up before going out in public.Played catch the water with the dog. She looks rabid here, but only because it’s her favourite game and she wouldn’t stay still.Then admired this sunset. Before the storms arrived at home.

Great day.

I learned to take many many towels to the beach with an infant and many many changes of clothes. Also take several bottles of water for washing the sand out of said infants nose, butt, eyelashes, toes, armpits . . . infact just take a bucket and dip them cattle drenching style. Don’t forget baby sunscreen as I did and then spent the whole day mentally berating myself. I learned you can find photographic gems in the most unexpected places if you are mindful and that sand has more staying power than liquid nails.

I was reminded how the ocean provides me with a serenity I don’t often stop to notice that I have in me. A oneness with the horizon, like we both have unlimited potential. It’s like the ocean says to me “Ginny, draw on my vastness, go, be whoever you want, the world and this life is yours, do with it what you will but do it now because it’s fleeting”.  Weird, I know, a talking ocean. It also said, “I’ve seen your hair look better”.

Anyway, feeling fresh and relaxed-ish and revitalised.  And so is Buddy’s intestinal tract with all that sand.


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