The thought of being back here blogging, dishing up my life to the public again, has been washing through my mind for a little while now. Do I? Don’t I? Who’s going to read it? Who cares? All those thoughts. So I don’t really know what has triggered me to writing on here again. Maybe it was those quiet moments spent in lockdowns, maybe it was my girls, maybe it was my apprehension of our futures. I dunno but here I am, sharing my life away again.
Firstly, thank you for being here with me. Thanks for giving me a few moments of your time and thanks for not pulling me up on my spelling and punctuation mistakes cause to be honest, I just don’t have enough focus and time to be editing my content with kids around. So thanks. I’m not sure who will read it, if anyone. I mean its kind of weird publicly writing about your life for others to read. Its weird but it also brings me a strange sense of joy and gives me a creative outlet. I like sharing all the rawness of my life. I like that it sometimes makes people laugh, gag, smirk, talk about. I like it when people can relate. Cause after all, we are all going through some sort of personal shit show and its comforting to know were not alone.
So welcome back to my shit storm.
Firstly, let me just start by saying we, as in my husband Lachlan and our 2 little girls have just uprooted our cushy little lives from our quaint and comfortable house on the Bellarine in Victoria to permanently try our luck living in NSW, in a quiet seaside town of Evans Head. It hasn’t been a smooth ride so far which has been irritating my irrational mind because I always believe that if things are meant to be, then things will happen smoothly. And right now things are frequently turning up like unexpected lumps in a smoothie and I gag on those bits. It’s fair to say that this smoothie is lumpy.
We had planned to leave Victoria in May.
We planned on demolishing our current shack in Evans and rebuilding a shed home.
We planned on these house plans being submitted to council before we left Vicco so we could spend quality time travelling in our caravan as a family while we waited for permits to pass.
We planned to stay in our caravan while the build was happening.
We planned and still plan on having the house built by Christmas…Gulp!
So far those plans are a tad wobbly. And anyway, they’re kinda crazy plans to begin with so it was bound to happen.
I mean, 6 months living in a caravan with a 5-year-old and a two and half year old while demolishing and rebuilding a house! Who’s stupid idea was that?
I always knew our plan was a bit ‘Wowzers’ but I kept telling myself we could do it. We can do it, we are doing it. We’re here doing it. It’s just going to be really uncomfortable for a while. After all, change and growth doesn’t happen when we’re comfortable right?
I think I’m a pretty adaptable person. It’s something I’ve always been quite good at to be honest. Adapting. Adapting to people, adapting to environments, to situations, so I keep telling myself that things will be ok. I am exactly where I need to be in every present moment. If I don’t waste energy reminiscing the past and worrying about the future, then I find I can manage the ‘right now’ moments and shit fights with more ease and less fucks, get the job done and move on to the next. Living in the present is liberating…
Anyway, so we didn’t leave till June. But that was ok. We manoeuvred ourselves around those last lockdowns and got out after me having a near meltdown. I say ‘near’ meltdown but it was more like a good and proper meltdown of the best sort. Fucking lockdowns!
With our house plans, our original draftsman almost had the house design complete for submission to council before we left. Almost. We were so close but the Draftsman (whom I wanted to call a dick bag on here, but my husband made me edit it out) pulled the pin on the entire job leaving us back at square one (Ongoing saga) So with no house designs submitted and no designer and no time to find another one, we trudged forth, throwing our future into the Universe to catch us. Weeeeeee!
It took us to 4 days to lug the heavy caravan up here, the girls caught a cold FFS, which turned into croup, which turned into no sleep, which turned into whinging and getting nothing done and snitchyness and irritation and lots of WTF-ing, “What are we doing?” moments. Croup in general can get scary so in caravan it aint any fun at all. But we survived of course. Onwards and upwards. The Universe still got us.
So now here we are in Evans, in our caravan at our shack. Which is a piece of asbestos shit. Grateful for it though. 4 walls, roof, hot water, electricity… simple living at its best. But it can keep the mouse wee stank, the damp smells, the dead cockroaches, the dribbling shower head, the fridge that doesn’t work and the fucking fleas. Yes, fleas!
We now have fleas in the caravan. I don’t even know how the fuck, what the fuck, when the fuck but… fleas. Oh my god. I’ve never. We’ve never. I don’t even, can’t even. I don’t even know what to do. I’m even ashamed sharing with you all but fuck, you just couldn’t make this shit up. I have fleas. Ha!
“Hi, I’m Sarah, I just escaped from dirty, diseased Victoria, my kids have croup and I have fleas. Wanna be my new friend”. Great look moving to a new town!
So they’re in our bed. I have at least 30 bites so far. I noticed some itchy bites 2 nights ago and just assumed they were midgie bites. But then more the next morning, and the next… and then this morning I was sitting on the bed and felt a tickle on my wrist and looked down to a small black creature which then jumped into thin air. A fucking flea. And then another one. We haven’t even had an animal in our caravan before! I actually think they’re under the caravan in the soil. Bush fleas. Or maybe the previous tenants’ animals were infested? I duuno. I’m stumped, itchy and pissed off. But Universe still got me… right?
So there’s been a few wild days to say the least.
We don’t have a washing machine so I’ve spend a fortune at the laundry mat washing the bed linen but I don’t even know where they’re coming from so it could’ve been a complete waste of time, effort and money washing it all. I made some essential oil spray and drenched the van in them. I even bought fly spray and sprayed the mattress… which proved to work cause I =found some of those filthy bastards dead shortly after. So I sprayed again. I never use fly spray but fuck you fleas.
I’ve never been so terrified to go to bed as I am tonight. I coated myself in lemon and citronella oil before sliding into bed this evening but I’m not happy. Not happy one bit. I feel like I’m sacrificing myself up to be feasted upon tonight. Lying here with a fucking neon flashing light on my arse cheeks screaming ‘Eat me’
I’m just praying that spray put them out of business for the night until I can completely empty the van and flea bomb it… and the house… and me.
On an up note though, we found ourselves a fridge today, so yay. Be gone sad, limp vegetables.
And tomorrow we’re off to buy a washing machine, which is going to have an extreme workout this week.
We’re getting some outdoor/indoor furniture to chill on, cause all we have is camping furniture at the moment. We don’t want to buy a lot right now as we will only have to store it somewhere when we eventually demolish the house, so we’re living off bare minimum. Lach and I have a laugh every night cause it really feels like we’re pack packing again, except with kids…. That we’re responsible for. So we need to get a couch thing for them to rest on.
If it wasn’t for the fleas, I think I’d be pretty damn fine with the simple living. Well, the fleas and the croup. That cough is sickening to watch little ones deal with…and the no sleep thing sucks large balls also but what do you do?
So if it wasn’t for those factors I’d be rather frothing over it all.
The nature reserve surrounding our block is an amphitheatre of bird song and wildlife. Apparently there’s some resident carpet pythons around too but I haven’t seen them yet. I’m so curious to see how I react to them when I do see them. Will I panic? Will I chill and admire them? What’s your bets?
All in all, it’s extremely tranquil here. But those bastard fleas have really set me off today. Come to think of it, I think they are the ones who have motivated me to be writing this blog again. Like my rage and irritation just had to be shared. Cheeky old Universe got me writing again. You got me.
Meanwhile, our girls are super happy, a little snotty but so frigging active.They haven’t asked for television once. There’s so much exploring to be had in the bush around the houes. So many tree swings to be made. So many mud pies to be baked. It’s been so heart warming to stop and observe their play amongst my angst today. Their little faces covered in black soot and their hair a web of tangled leaves. They’re thriving. And that’s all that matters really.
Thanks for following along with me. I hope to see you back here real soon.
Sarah
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