Schwimm

Oh look, here's the bump, as of August 24th, a little while ago, resplendent in the Maternity Swimming Suit.

To her credit, despite the twists and turns, Nicole has maintained a most excellently healthy regime involving swimming, sleep and Rennies.

Eloise has swimming lessons on Monday and we go for a quick twenty lengths while she's in  her lesson. When Eloise is at dancing (that'll be Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays) we go for a quick twenty lengths. On Friday we'll pop down sometimes for a quick twenty lengths.

Nicole has been working jolly hard on her Ph.D. and between that and her ward job has been working six days a week for goodness knows how long. All this while up the duff. Remarkable!

Hair

Ballet exam time again and the leotard is pink this year. Bun precision is high on the agenda after last year when Nicole was lauded, or rather failed to be chastised, for the quality of her bunning.

Amendments to School Routine

Some changes have been made to the school routine.

Whereas previously Eloise would attend (voluntarily and on her own initiative) before-school activities such as Reading Club and Maths Club, these have now unilaterally and inexplicably been withdrawn by the school due to children actually using and enjoying them rather than being frogmarched along to them for purely remedial purposes, without prior warning or any communication at all really, which to be honest rather pissed us off, but there you go.

Anyway, this leaves us with a gamut of morning time, which generally speaking has been taken up with transporting the Ever-Expanding Nicole to work and then back again home to walk/cycle/scooter to school.

The dog usually accompanies us to school in the morning nowadays, with Eloise on her bike or scooter on a non-dancing day. On a dancing day she will walk or scoot and I will pick her up from school and take her down to dancing as it seems a bit silly and self-defeating to rush around like blue-arsed flies to get home for a panic-stricken and time-fraught snack-in and change-up just to drive back the way we came anyway.

On a non-dancing day though, it's leg-power of some kind or other all the way.

So some days Matilda gets three walks: it's no wonder the old girl is in such fantastic health, and in need of so... much.... sleep.

Bound

We were taken a little by surprise when this Jillaroo, or so she called herself, bounded up to us. And bound she did, like some pre-Olympic enhanced experiment, for her legs were crafted from the finest carbon-fibre and she could leap - and I misuse this word advisedly - literally metres into the air, taking in small vehicles and perhaps even garden sheds beneath a single well-sprung hop.

And furthermore there are wheels underneath those feet so I can only begin to imagine the speeds that would be available to such a creature on its daily commute.

Very charming she was for all that, though, and we left her with a photo as a keepsake to embolden us as we shamelessly jumped the queue for the Showbag Pavilion.

Quack

A jolly old philosophical time we had in the duck shed where row upon row of hapless beasts lay decked out before us like a eugenic battery farm of poetic poultry imprisonment. What specimens! From the Aylesbury to the Mallard to the.... Duck.... the stalls beckoned us to leer and poke at their - fortunately very stupid - occupants, brandishing their prize ribbons on their bars and railings, trophies won by trophies.

Cluck

Of course the chicks are always a favourite. Eloise is clearly blossoming in terms of her social and environmental skills as she made me queue for her whilst buggering off and amusing herself at a Bovine Lactation demonstration. There was a certain amount of angst as I struggled with the conflict between
1) the parental urge to actually have some idea of where one's child is an a huge throng of people and animals, and
2) the English urge not to lose one's place in a queue

The struggle played itself out over a reasonable protracted period of time, with option 2) having the upper hand for most - well actually all - the time, until I reached the head of the queue, actually had to let someone go before me (teeth grinding behind my polite smile), and then Little Miss Punctual Sunshine skips up, and in we go to molest some chickens.

Ekka

A Nicole-less Ekka this year, just the sprog and I on a swelter-weight tour of duty around Flusville, Queensland, braving the crowds on the public holiday on an amazing ambulation of agriculture and animalia.

Just to be different we arrived at a new entrance this year, from which Nicole dropped us. I can't remember exactly why she didn't come this year, probably something to do with being pregnant and knacked - I'm sure she'll confirm.

However first stop was a shed in which freestyle blacksmithery was taking place, adding coals to the fire of an already warm and sunny winter's day, which in Queensland, as you'll no doubt recall can be deceptive in hiding the strength of the sun's rays within a diaphonous veil of being just quite warm.

A-wandering around the lower part of the venue - somewhat ensmallened this year due to the onward march of capitalist forces making apparently inevitable the necessity to sell previously public space to the highest bidder on which to build - what else - "blue chip" apartment complexes - we checked out the Ekka-tat stalls and looked at some of the Sideshow Alley distractions before find our focus and going in search of some furry animals friends to cuddle.

Bunning

And here, the bun, and look how pleased the wearer is to have such excellent craft lavished upon her ginger barnet.

The ballet exam itself went without incident, she missed out on her distinction by just a couple of points, apparently she lost the plot in her character dress or something.

Spring

The forests get pretty in late Winter when the purples of what I am reliably informed are called Hovias and the yellows of what I am reliably informed are Wattles come out in droves.