Buxom Baldy hits the beach.

Towards the end of last summer I lost all of my hair in the space of three and a half weeks but I remember thinking at the time that it will be back by next summer.  Next summer is here and I am still as bald as a badger!!

One of the few drawbacks (in my mind) of moving to the Mid-North was the fact that I would no longer be living minutes from the beach.  But yesterday I met a new friend for coffee who is originally from the absolutely delightful town of Port Broughton, a lovely coastal town less than an hour from my home town.  I was telling my new friend that I’m really not feeling confident about swimming this year and not just because I’m carrying around a bit of extra pork, but because I don’t feel confident about swimming with no hair on my noggin.  My new friend said she would come with me to the beach to support me in this next step of accepting my baldness but I woke up this morning feeling brassy and ready to face this demon.

I never thought I would say this but today this buxom baldy hit the beach naked!!  I went nude-nut on the beach and after my swim I seriously put catwalk models to shame as I strutted my nude-nut and my ever widening arse back to the sand.  It was very liberating to swim with absolutely nothing on my nut and it was SO nice to feel the sand between my toes and the taste of salt on my lips as I came out of the ocean.

I hope I get to the point (especially in the summer because wigs are bloody hot and itchy) where I feel confident walking around town etc with nothing on my head but I’m not quite there yet.  I am very pleased though that I’ve faced my fear of swimming without hair and I will definitely being making regular trips this summer to all the nice coastal towns in this neck of the woods.

Up yours Mr Brown!

I was sitting at my breakfast bar the other day enjoying a cup of tea when I heard a strange noise.  It almost sounded like a paper bag moving towards me and so I stupidly looked behind me to see how that could be happening.  As I looked down to my feet I saw who was responsible for the strange noise.  A one metre brown snake was slithering underneath the barstool (which I was sitting on) making its way towards my oven.  It’s interesting what goes through your mind in situations of panic.  My first thought was if I scream like a girl my beloved dog will come running, possibly attack the snake and my Hudson would most likely be killed.  My second thought was I have to get a photo of this bastard and my third thought was nah I’m imagining this cos there’s no way a Brown snake could actually be inside my lovely little cottage.

After taking photos of Mr Brown I ran outside knowing my Hudson would follow me then I flung a crate up against the doggy door so Hudo couldn’t get back inside and called my ex-boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend lived out bush for a number of years so he was the perfect person to ask what the hell I was supposed to do with a snake in my house!?  To cut a long story short I managed to trap Mr Brown in my bathroom (thanks to Derek calmly talking me through the entrapment) I then ran like a girl across to the road to get my neighbour who dealt with the intruder for me.  Mr Brown now sits on top of my kitchen cabinet and as I do the dishes each morning I literally look up at Mr Brown and say out loud, “F@#k you Mr Brown, you and your mates will not defeat me!!”

I have been living in the country for 3 months now and there are so many things I love about living in a small town, except for snakes, I will never get used to them!  I love the routine things which happen in my town because they remind me that I no longer have a life of rushing from one deadline to the next.  I haven’t set an alarm for 3 whole months and I can’t explain how much joy that brings me.  There are so many things which happen regularly in my town so there really isn’t much need for clocks or alarms.

My neighbours son gets picked up every morning at 7:45am and once I hear the toot of his bus I roll out of bed and turn the coffee machine on.  At 3:45pm my neighbours son is dropped home again so I know it’s time to start thinking about my second walk for the day.  On Sunday’s at 8:45am a minister from one of the many churches in town walks down the middle of my street with his black suit and white shirt on ready to lead his congregation in worship then at 9am the church bells ring – even though I am no longer a church-goer I love the sound of the church bells on Sunday morning.  At 11:30am on Tuesdays I hear an almighty racket as all the kids from the local primary school do their weekly walk past my house.  Each of these quaint little routines bring a smile to my face because they make me feel lucky to be finally living a quiet and peaceful life.

The other thing I’m really enjoying about country life is the new friends I’m making.  Kaye and I have become friends because she organises the Book Club I am now a part of.  Kaye has the most amazing garden, it is both beautiful and productive.   We have shared a bottle of wine on her back deck, we have shared a meal and a yarn at the pub I now work at and we have wandered around her garden which ends with me walking home with an arm full of beautiful big beetroots, cabbage,  broad beans, carrots, and asparagus – just to name a few of the yummies Kaye sends me home with!

So whilst I will never get used to having visitors like Mr Brown in my home I’m looking forward to many years of enjoying the peaceful country life and having old and new friends share it with me and I will continue to have an ‘up yours’ attitude to the challenges which come my way!