Moruya Part Three: Unexpected Magic at the Beach

Posted on October 31, 2011 by Hannah

I believe we last left Moruya when Fi, Dan, Andy and I were celebrating our choir’s first performance by indulging in glorious ice cream (no matter what was said in the comments, I still maintain that rainbow paddlepops beat chocolate paddlepops forever).

As we meandered back to our hotel, we decided that it was imperative to go to the beach that afternoon. However, Fi and Andy decided to swim in the pool first, and they totally, like, totally peer-pressured me into swimming too.

At least there weren’t any Blue Bottles at the pool.

This may not sound like a big deal, but a) I haven’t gone swimming in at least five years, and b) I don’t own swimmers. The first issue was solved by me getting over myself, and the second by me wearing my pyjamas. Which weren’t actually pyjamas but shorts and a singlet top, because I had forgotten to bring real pyjamas. The whole clothes -> pyjamas -> swimmers was a brilliant plan right up until midnight that night when I realised I had no pyjamas, but that’s not the point of this story.

The point is that I survived my first swim in years and years, even if by “swim” I mean “bobbing around in the water trying to avoid the dead spiders”.

There was, however, a friendly duck nearby.

Eventually, though, Dan, Fi, and I jumped in the car to go to Moruya Heads (Andy, sadly, has thesising to do). As we stepped out onto the sand and breathed in the salt-tinged air, I made an offhand comment about SeaChange and Barwon Heads.

And then we were off.

Turns out that Fi, Dan, and I are all devoted-die-hard-heart-soaring SeaChange soulmates, and have each rarely come across anyone else who’ll happily spend hours discussing favourite episodes, scenes, moments, quotes, and more. Oh, it would have been a beautiful, happy, wonderful afternoon for that reason alone, but all of sudden Fi cried out in delight:

“Dolphins!”

Sure enough, multiple fins could be seen cresting the waves before us in smooth arcs, incredibly close to the shore. Oh, it would have been a beautiful, happy, wonderful afternoon for that reason alone, but all of a sudden Dan shouted in delight:

“Can you see that? Out in the distance?”

Look closer, my dears…

Whales. Two whales breaching, bursting out of the water, up, up, up, cavorting in the water just like we were on the sand, watching them.

We were speechless, then very much not-speechless as we pointed and laughed and squealed (okay, okay, I was probably the only one who squealed). I held up my camera and clicked away, hoping to catch at least a glimpse for you of what we were seeing.

Look closer, my dears…

And happily, thankfully, I did.

After walking for close to an hour we turned back, and several minutes later saw what, judging by the colour and shape, was another whale breaching. Our third whale. Ten minutes later, another appeared with its tail flipping to greet us, although it’s likely this was one of the first three.

But, truly, exactly how many whales we saw that day doesn’t matter. All that matters is that on a beautiful sunny afternoon, a group of three friends went for a walk along the beach expecting nothing but the gentle crash of waves, the enveloping scent of the sea, laughter, and an escape from real/city life. Instead, we were given the gift of leaping dolphins and whales, which lifted our spirits immeasurably and surely gave us an extra oomph for our performance later that night.

And it was all thanks to the power of SeaChange.

P.S. Stay tuned for Part Four, starring the Strange Weather Gospel Choir (again), my solo, and maybe even the Saga of the Smoke Alarm. It’ll be a ripper, folks.

No-Bake Vegan Cherry Date Truffles

Posted on October 29, 2011 by Hannah

My heart is feeling a little low on pizzazz today. In fact, if the doctor who analyses my blood test results next week decides to scan for pizzazz levels, she might find it necessary to prescribe three bags of sour cola gummies to cheer me up. You see, it was my grandmother’s funeral yesterday, and I miss her.

Subsequently, I’ve decided to delay the next Moruya trip instalment, as the words aren’t flowing freely today. Instead, I thought I’d tell you about the simple (but delicious) No-Bake Vegan Cherry Date Truffles I made to snack on during that Moruya trip of singing and laughter.

Oh, and I also thought I’d describe to you the latest in my ongoing series of nincompitude. It goes a little something like this:

Several months ago, I bought my first car. I have since been enjoying the luxury of being in complete control of when, where, and how I drive. Recently, I was driving Jenni and our Sydney-based colleague Vicky back from an event at Parliament House when it started raining heavily. Rain while you’re driving can be quite loud, and so I started having difficulty hearing what Vicky, in the back seat, was saying.

As I concentrated on driving while also trying to focus on Vicky’s voice, my brain made a decision that I wasn’t quite aware of. Without thinking through what I was doing, I saw my hand reach over to the dashboard and turn the volume dial up.

Yes, friends, you heard that right.

I tried to increase the volume of my friend’s voice by turning up my car’s volume dial.

It took me several seconds to recognise what I’d tried to do, and then I laughed so hard I almost crashed the car. (Not really. I’m a super safe driver. Promise, Mum.)

Apparently, my subconscious is a shrieking tantrumming child who believes “My car! My car my rules! My car I control all! Power power mine me me my car bow before my needs weakling universe me me! My car!”

It’s moments like these that remind me how happy I am to to have an arsenal of simple no-bake vegan treat recipes on hand, which can be whipped up at a moment’s notice to bring a little sweetness and pizzazz into life.

Wait, what? Did you say something? I can’t seem to hear you. Where’s my computer’s volume dial?

No-Bake Cherry Date Truffles

2/3 cup (80g) raw cashews
1/2 cup (45g) rolled oats or five-grain mix
2/3 cup (100g) Medjool dates (or other fresh dates)
scant 2/3 cup (80g) dried (tart) cherries
1 tsp vanilla extract
pinch salt
optional, for extra pizzazz: coconut (to mix through or roll in), cinnamon, ground ginger, cacao nibs, cocoa powder… the possibilities are endless.

In a food processor (or blender like a Vita-Mix), process the cashews and oats to a fine consistency. Remove to a bowl (or don’t bother; your call!).
Add the dates, cherries, vanilla, and salt, the process until the mixture has come together cohesively and is well-blended.
Roll into balls (and then roll in coconut, sesame seeds, or anything equally delicious if you have the time) and store in the fridge or freezer for that moment when your soul requires something to help it sing.

I’m submitting this to Lisa’s Allergy Friendly Lunchbox Event and Ricki’s latest Wellness Weekend.

Question Time: Have you done anything a bit silly lately?

Moruya Part Two: Markets, Hugs, and Paddlepops

Posted on October 28, 2011 by Hannah

I woke up on Saturday morning to find a note on the table from Fi (“Gone swimming!”) and a shaky feeling of surrealism as I relived, in my mind, the events of the day before. Before I could get too caught up in trembling thoughts, though, the day was off and running and I was off and running with it. Off and running and skipping and twirling and singing and dazzling and gallivanting… only partly metaphorically.

After collecting Fi from the swimming pool, the two of us met up with another SWGC alto (I’m a soprano, by the by. In case anyone is interested. Which, most likely, you aren’t. The end.) and headed to Moruya’s Saturday markets.

At the Moruya markets, we found donuts…

… the photos of which were taken by a camera that decided to suddenly bathe all and sundry in an incredibly blinding white glow.

At the Moruya markets, we also spied a dog trapped in a terrifying Leg Prison…

…but before I could pull out my Superhero Cape to save the pup, I found myself distracted by the flavoured nuts stand. Wasabi macadamias, caramelised macadamias, Vienna almonds, honey cashews, honey peanuts, tamari almonds, and honey sesame cashews, I tried them all. And then didn’t actually buy any because I suddenly realised that we were going to be late for our first concert if we didn’t skedaddle immediately. Sorry, Nut Stand Man. I totally ate all your samples and then disappeared in the rudest possible way. Please forgive me.

After a quick change of clothing, Fi, J.Alto and I arrived just in time for our first Moruya Jazz Festival gig, the Festival of Voices.

This first performance went not only smoothly but sparklingly, and it made me happy to see my parents, who had driven up that morning, smiling at me from the audience. Well, Mum was smiling. Dad’s face was hidden behind his enormous camera. Thanks, Dad, for the concert photos in these Moruya posts! Your camera is scarily huge and intimidating but altogether welcome in my life.

My dad actually video-recorded several parts of our performances. I love seeing how intently we singers watched and followed the guidance of Dan, our fantasticamical (for today, that’s a real word, okay?) musical director. I was also super delighted with how well our first public attempt at Holy, Holy, Holy turned out, as the jazzy-magical piano improvisations of Andy (whom you met at Jindera) got us in a vibrant and enthusiastically-clappy-clappy singing mood.

With our first performance under our [purple] belts and six hours to go before the next, Fi and I once again proved how intertwined our thoughts are. We each had only one thing on our minds: Paddlepops. Or maybe Golden Gaytimes. To me, there is nothing more quintessential, more necessary, more inevitable when at the coast than the thrill of trying to eat a Paddlepop (or Golden Gaytime) before it melts all over your fingers.

However, knowing that you don’t have to be female to enjoy ice cream, I quickly darted over to Andy and Dan in the hopes of convincing them to join our ice cream adventure. Before I could get them to say yes, however, I found myself enveloped in words of condolence for my grandma’s passing and the kind of squeezy-wonderful hugs that (for as long as they last and a little bit after) make all your sadness fade away.

And then we went for ice cream.

(There seemed to be some sort of gendered ice cream behaviour going on that day, because both boys went for Magnums whereas Fi and I selected Paddlepops. Surely there’s a PhD in that?)

I’m a fan of this photo; it’s like “Where’s Wally?” but with ice cream instead of Wally. “Where’s Hannah’s Paddlepop?”

Can you find it? A hint: look for the pink that appears to be a tail-light.

But just in case you need proof…

Rainbow: it’s the most delicious of all the flavours.

P.S. The second half of this day was perhaps even more magical than the first, if you can believe it. (And more scary too. Because, well, my solo.) But we’ll get to that in good time.

Moruya Part One: Toys in Trees, Trampolines, and Accepting Happiness

Posted on October 26, 2011 by Hannah

Before I say anything else, I have to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kindness and support in response to my grandmother passing away. I had no idea, when I wrote that post, how quickly I would find myself enveloped in words of support and sympathy, through your comments, texts, calls, and emails. Both I and my family are truly grateful to know there are such wonderful and caring people as you in this world. Thank you.

As I mentioned in my last post, this past weekend my Strange Weather Gospel Choir was performing at the Moruya Jazz Festival. In the minutes following my grandmother’s passing, I felt sure I couldn’t go. However, my parents were adamant that I should head to Moruya, and that Grandma would have wanted me to enjoy it.

I thought about how Grandma Mickey loved to sing and belonged to choirs herself, how she loved to walk along the beach, and how she almost always found something to giggle about in any circumstance. I thought about all of this, and I decided to go.

I had the most wonderful weekend. I had it for her, and the life I know she wants me to live.

At this point, I must give a shout-out to my beloved Fi, who spent the greater part of an hour on Friday calling members of our choir to see if someone could give us a lift to the coast, as my parents could no longer take us. Ultimately, I decided that I felt okay to drive. So began my first ever road trip as the driver, with one of my best friends by my side.

Thank heavens for Fi and her navigational skills, because I was not in a state to deal with maps at this point (“Which way is the coast? I don’t know where the coast is!”). And thank heavens for Fi and how perfectly in sync we are, because we were both equally delighted and prepared to stop the car when we caught glimpse of Elmo in a tree in the middle of nowhere.

Don’t believe me?

But it wasn’t just Elmo.

There were toys in trees everywhere.

We eventually returned to the car, immediately restarting Avenue Q in the CD player. As we wound our way down Clyde Mountain, we found ourselves once more squealing with delight and braking. After all, you can’t not stop at Pooh’s Corner.

I couldn’t help wondering whether Piglet truly should be drinking a Bundy and Coke, but gave up on this ethical conundrum in order to concentrate on the final leg of the drive to Moruya. Happy to have arrived before 7pm, Fi and I became even happier to find that our hotel room was enormous (made for four people; inhabited only by us) and that the hotel had horse stables, a cubby house, a swimming pool, and a trampoline.

A. Trampoline. Of. Amazing. Ness. (And a swimming pool of amazingness, in Fi’s view.)

Despite both being hungry, we decided to delay dinner so that Fi could go for a swim and I could jump on the trampoline. Blurrily.

After our swimming and jumping efforts, Fi and I went for a wander in search of dinner. However, the plethora of men ogling us at every nearby pub, combined with my wobbly emotional state, led us to make the executive decision to create a picnic from Woolworths and have a quiet night back at our hotel room instead.

Quiet, however, may be a relative term. Because after sharing Indian food, sour cherry gummies, cherry date truffles (recipe to come),and either Lindt 85% or Cadbury chocolate (no prizes for guessing whose was whose), I found myself feeling a little upset again and suggested we go back on the trampoline. At 10pm. After lots and lots of dinner and candy.

It was both the best and least appropriate decision I’ve ever made.

The next twenty minutes were a blur of breathless laughter as Fi and I jumped higher and higher together on the trampoline, feeling steadily queasier yet unable to stop the momentum of movement and giggles.

Until, of course, we really, really had to. And even then, the night wasn’t over, for we stayed up into the wee hours talkingtalkingtalking, until I was tired enough that I could fall asleep without crying.

And that, my dears, was how my trip to the Moruya Jazz Festival became about friends, music, and laughter helping me through. Even better, I was lucky enough to have another two days of the weekend to go when I woke up.

An Unexpected Goodbye

Posted on October 24, 2011 by Hannah

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I had last Friday all planned out.

I was going to get up early and go to work for five hours. I was then going to head over to my parents’ house with my friend Fi. At 2pm, my parents were going to drive the four of us to the coast for the Moruya Jazz Festival, where Fi and I would be performing all weekend with the Strange Weather Gospel Choir.

The day started out as planned. I was at work by 8:30am, working on the submissions I’ve got due next week, trying to condense forty-eight pages into six for our Annual Report, and answering the phone as needed.

Then came a call I wasn’t expecting.

By 12:30pm, I was in the Emergency Department of the Canberra Hospital. My parents, my aunt, one of my cousins. Doctors, in the background.

And my Grandma Mickey, for whom a year ago (almost to the day) I made double chocolate muffins. My Grandma Mickey, who hadn’t been in hospital these past few months, but had been pottering along in her low-care nursing home.

For the next forty-five minutes I held my grandmother’s hand, and stole moments to kiss her forehead whenever I could, whenever someone wasn’t stroking her hair, whenever there was a break between one of us whispering words that we knew/hoped she’d hear. I held my cousin’s hand over the bed, I curled into my mother’s shoulder, I reached for my father.

And then I kissed my grandma one last time.

It was her birthday.

Happy 97^th Birthday, dear Grandma Mickey. I hope that, somewhere, there was a cake with candles and a wonderfully creamy cappuccino waiting for you.

We love you, always.

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Monthly Archives: October 2011