The Baynhams

Sometimes life is a little dull. Like someone took all the colours and threw them out the window. Life is just a palatte of shades of grey.

So you go down the dollar shop and spend a whole $2 on something to brighten up your day. Oh yeah, and a tray of eggs to go with it.

One pin,


One bowl,

Three kids and a few accidents and


voila!

EASTER COLOUR !!!

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Today is Good Friday. A somber day in the story of the church.

It's easy for the kids to get caught up the chocolate side of Easter so it was nice today to find ourselves in Hunter Valley where there is the most beautiful small white church nestled in the middle of the vineyards.

It has a huge stained glass window behind the altar and through the window you can see the backdrop of the stunning Hunter Valley Gardens.

The kids stood and looked out the window quiet in their thoughts. A chance to whisper silent prayers for two members of our extended family.

One prayer for the oldest and one prayer for the youngest yet to be born.

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Kel is the most Aussie bloke we know. Kel doesn't sugar coat things. He says it like it is. He likes meat and carbs on his dinner plate. Hold the veggies and don't dare offer him salad. His best compliment he ever payed me after a homecooked meal was "That's wasn't bad I guess" He speaks his mind. He rides a Harley and once lent me his Ute complete with bullets rolling around the dash. He hugs like grizzly bear and you know he would defend you to the ends of the earth. He shoots. Not just out in the bush, he represented Australia in the Commonwealth games and returned with a medal.

This week the Australian Nationals were being held in New South Wales. We had an opportunity to go along as spectators and watch him in action. We were given ear plugs before walking onto the range and watched Kel from behind a glass screen.

It was fascinating watching the concentration and the nonchalant pose of one hand tucked in his pocket.

Most people practise regularly all year. Kel just turns up on the day, shoots, wins and heads home until next years comp.

Like I said at the start, he's just an Aussie bloke. We love him to bits, we just don't dare tell him to his face!

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There is a beautiful shop in the Hunter Valley Gardens called Candelabra that sells candles of every shape, size and smell.

It is a fabulous shop to wander around even if you don't need to buy anything.

Today we spent a little while browsing and then I saw something I liked. A wall hanging made out of metal with four tea light holders in it. It was more reasonably priced than we were expecting so we bought it on impulse not quite knowing where it would go in our house.

Here it is in the daylight just outside the shop...

And here it is candles flickering on the wall in our kitchen.

Do you want to join us for an atmospheric candlelit meal over the holidays?

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Who polishes the shoes in your family?

When I was growing up it was my Dad. It was a serious undertaking that involved sheets of newspaper, tins of brown caked polish, a brush to apply the polish and a brush to buff it off. I used to love to watch Dad cleaning his shoes with short sharp movements back and forth, back and forth, and the smell! I loved the smell of the polish. Sometimes I was allowed to help. I thought it was a treat!

In Byron's home it was also his Dad. I was warned on my first weekend visiting them that if I left my shoes downstairs when I went to bed I would come downstairs to find them polished to within an inch of their life! Never mind if they needed polishing or not, his Dad would polish any footwear left lying around, his last job before heading upstairs to bed.

Why are some jobs a treat and some a chore? Is it the jobs that are done less frequently that hold a bit of magic or mystery? It was the kids last day in school today. They got off the school bus a little while ago and stuffed school hats, jumpers and bags into the shoe cupboard not to be seen again for a whole TWO WEEKS! Just before the shoes were thrown in after the bags I took out the black shoe polish to give them a quick clean. No more old fashioned tins of hard polish. Now we have convenience in a sponge topped, liquid filled bottle.

Gareth saw me about to start and begged to be allowed to polish his shoes, then Sian's, then Rhiannon's, then mine! His eyes lit up as he polished them up so you could see the sun shine off the leather.

A happy boy, a happy Mum. One less job for me to do. And maybe an old tradition being continued by the next generation of shoe polisher....

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Sian's class had an excursion today to the Civic Theatre in Newcastle. They had to travel in by train and had an early start to get to the train station in time. It was a bit of a juggle for Byron as I was working from 7am and he had to be at two different places at the same time, the train station at 8.14am with Sian and school at 8.20am with Rhiannon and Gareth.

We asked a favour from a family who live on our street. Their daughter Jessica is in Year 6 with Sian and also needed to be at the station so we asked them to please bring Sian so Byron could bring the two little ones to school and then race on to work. All Byron had to do was drop Sian to her friends house by 7.45am. Not too hard you would think. Easy if you can find the car keys.... A mad scramble if they are no where to be found!

In the end Byron grabbed Sian by the hand and ran her down the road as fast as her legs would carry her and delivered her to Jessica's family who were sitting in the car waiting! Sometimes working part time and escaping the chaos is not such a bad thing! Here is Sians blog on her excursion....

My Excursion: By Sian

Today I went to the Civic Theatre by Train to watch an Anzac service based on the diary of Trooper Ernest Pauls. The Civic Theatre was really beautiful. It was very dark inside.





The actual service was full of people talking, acting and people laying poppies on the Australian flag.

Also there was some bugle playing and an orchestra. ANZAC means Australian New Zealand Army Corps. Anzac day will be celebrated later on this month on 25th of April. It remembers all the Army troopers that did not make it out alive from the war at Galipolli. I sat in the upstairs part second row from the front. There were loads of different schools including 8 high schools. The actual service was quite sad and very serious but when the orchestra started playing and the people started acting it put a smile back on most peoples faces. So I hope on the 25th of April you will stop and remember ANZAC day too with a minute of silence. We got the train home again and it was good fun!

Mr Jennings (my teacher) and Ms Smith from 6S





Brittany and Jessica









Gemma and Maddie






Amy and me!

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Sian got some REALLY exciting news today!

She went into school and was told the result of our her fantastic "Great Barrier Reef" project. http://thebaynhamfamily.blogspot.com/2009/03/school-projects.html
It was marked out of a grand total of 50 points. She had put tons of effort and time into it and I was really hoping that we she would get somewhere in the high 30's or even maybe the 40's.

Guess what our her result was...?

49 out of 50 !!!!

Way to go brainbox !!!!
























As my Granny (my Mum's Mum) used to annoy my Dad by saying...

"She must get her brains from our side of the family"

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In the last week timezones around the world have been gaining and loosing hours willy nilly.

I find it hard enough to keep track of the time difference between Australia and our friends and families in England, Ireland and Wales at the best of times. But in the last couple of years the hours have changed over a staggered couple of weekends. Why? I have no idea?

The main thing is that this morning we had an extra hour in bed! Yippee! And so for another 6 months we are now 9 hours ahead of you lot on the other side of the world. You can just add 9 hours onto your watch or take 3 hours off and swap night to day or day to night.....

Or if all this is too complicated for you why don't you just log on to our blog and check the little clocks over on the right of the screen. Simple!

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We had great fun last weekend at our friend Troys house. Everyone turned up in swimmers with Eskys of cold drinks and BBQ food and had fun in the water or just watching from the comfort of a chair on the deck.

I was exhausted just looking at them so I kept to lifeguard duties from the lake edge.

Byron arrived after us as he had rowed in his kayak from our house. At the end of the day he kayaked home but this time with Gareth on board too. It took him forever! Gareth was like having a big anchor dragging him backwards.

The best part of the day was just seeing the fun that the kids had playing together. Especially as they ran along the jetty over and over jumping off into the cool of the water.

They have such a great life here in Australia and moments like this sum it up for us.

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Rugby season for the Macquarie Roos under 8's kicked off this morning with a 9.30am home game.

We only found out that it was happening via a text at tea-time last night. Despite the short notice there was a great turn out of under 8's running around in over sized rugby shirts overflowing with excitement and energy!

The other team turned up in much lesser numbers. About 5 of them compared to our big group. A few of our players stripped off their Macquarie Roos shirts and put on the competitions ones to play for them. It was an action packed and exhausting 15 minutes each side! There was a blur of navy blue shirts chasing whoever had the ball with the added confusion of familiar teammates faces on the other team!














When the final whistle blew the Roos had to concede defeat to the other team who had won 6 tries to 4. As the kids cheered and drank their cartons of juice the Dads tried not to think about the fact that it was the Roos players lent to the other team that had scored the tries that won the match. No no smiled the Mums, it is not the winning that counts but the taking part.

We packed up the sports bag with water bottles, skull caps, mouth guards and headed for the car with a happy and muddy Gareth. The Dads still looked pained...

It is not the winning that counts...
It is not the winning that counts...
It is not the winning that counts...

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I had a dream last night.

It was very real and unsettling.

I was in a busy city packed full of visitors waiting to see a sporting event. As the crowds jostled by I clutch tight to the hand of a little girl. It was Sian and she was about 2yrs old and wearing her favourite red woollen coat. As I pushed through the crowds I was searching for Byron. He was in a group of friends, most of whom were unfamiliar to me. I looked down at my left hand holding tight to Sian's chubby one. It was bare. No engagement ring, no wedding band...

As I called his name he looked up. He looked at me blankly, a half smile on his face then turned away. He didn't know me. I was calling him and trying to tell him he was Sian's Dad, that we were supposed to be married and that eventually we would have three kids together. He couldn't hear me and moved away into the crowd.

I woke up to a quiet room, the light creeping in through the blinds. Everything was familiar. I felt the fear fade as I breathed deeply and stretched my arms out in front of me. I looked down at my left hand. It was bare. No engagement ring, no wedding band...

My heart stopped and a feeling of panic filled my chest. I sat up in the bed looking around for my wedding ring that I never take off. It sat on my bedside locker next to the hand cream I had rubbed on just before going to sleep last night. I felt goosebumps prickle on my arms as the bedroom door opened and Byron walked in with two cups of tea. I'm not going to let him out of my sight today!

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I'm fed up today.

Fed up of having no carpets.

Fed up of having no skirting boards.

Fed up of having holes drilled in my kitchen cupboards.

Fed up of waiting for the insurance company to approve a builder to start fixing everything.

Fed up of nasty rusty carpet tacks lining the rooms that the carpets were pulled out of.

Fed up that after two months of jumping over these tacks to avoid ripping our feet open poor Gar "forgot" to jump over them this week. OOUCH!

And so in adrenaline fuelled "fed up"ness I got out the hammer and a screwdriver and tore them up this morning.


I feel a bit less fed up now.

It sure beats the hell out of ironing!

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However did our parents cope? They did a great job when you think about it. They managed to get us through school without killing us of peanut anaphalaxis and they managed to help us with our homework without Google?

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Question one: How many times will I step over this (dead) Huntsman spider in the garage before picking him up and putting him in the bin?

Question two: Why am I wasting time blogging when I am supposed to be catching up on a weeks worth of housework before work tomorrow?

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When we saw the plans for our new house three years ago my eye was drawn to the three kids bedrooms. They were all of a similar size. One stood out. It had a small recess in the wall where the window was. Just perfect for a window seat. Just perfect for Rhiannon. She is the one that needs quiet time in her room away from the chaos of our busy house and before the first brick was layed I knew that would be her room and I would custom build a window seat with a hinged lid for toy storage in it for her.

The first year we lived here money was pulled in every direction and the materials for a seat wasn't high on the list. Then we settled into our second year here and Byron lost his job and I started working again. The time to undertake DIY projects was slipping through my fingers.

Finally, this week, the wood was bought, I had a day off work and out came the drill, the jigsaw, the screws and spirit level.

It took me all day from the time they went to school until 5 minutes before the school bus pulled up but it was made!

Then the next day off work we went out to buy foam to make a cushion. We had bought the soft flower covered fabric back when the window seat was a dream and now it is loosely tucked around the foam. It looks almost there. One more day off work with the sewing machine and the fabric will transform into a proper fitted cover for the foam but for now as far as Rhiannon is concerned she has her special place to escape us all!

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