There’s really no way around this. The festive season has been fat.
This is fantastic if you are a cow, not so fantastic if you are a working dog, dangerous if you are an oyster, and if you are a blog writer ….. well you know what I mean.
Mother Nature turned Rocky Springs into a tropical oasis in December with rain, and consequently grass, in glorious abundance. So with our farm-sitter Sarah looking after the hounds, Brian and I did what we haven’t done at this time of year for a decade – we escaped.
Our destination was the south coast of NSW where I grew up and where we once worked as abalone divers . Our list of friends and reles to visit was as long as the grass on Rocky and although we didn’t get to everyone we frolicked with a fair few.
The frolicking included
re-connecting with old friends and throwing some kids around,
doing time on a sea urchin boat (and realising I NEVER want to be a deckhand again),
walks on golden sands with Mum,
remembering Dad at Kianinny,
learning more about chooks
and swimming with my sister.
The fat came about due to:
- blue grenadier and chips @ Narooma
- flathead and chips @ Lakes Entrance
- gurnard and chips @ Eden
- sticky bun @ Quaama
- baileys @ Newlands Arm
- Christmas plum pudding @ Jellat
- fresh abalone @ Wallagoot
- plump oysters @ Pambula Lake
- pizzas @ Bald Hills
- frozen custard tart @ Tura
- cherries @ Canowindra
- thai @ Dubbo,
which pretty much sums up our trip …. and our waistlines.
The drought affected cows we bought from Roma last year are piling on the weight, the front dam is full and I am eating oysters kilpatrick on a frangipani-scented veranda.
Tomorrow I am going to send all the dogs to Weight Watchers. I may just join them.
HAPPY NEW YEAR MOB