The entrée to the skydive

Ok, so it wasn’t me that went skydiving. And some would think I wouldn’t have the insides to jump out of a plane 14,000 feet above the ground. But I would.

However, let’s not be selfish here. For a man who recently turned 6x10 and has never sat foot on a plane, let alone jumped out of one, I was more than happy to escort him to the fields of the Hunter Valley, whereby he would then be suited up to fall 4.2 kilometres out of the sky, at some stage assisted to the landing with a faded parachute. And a cheerful stocky instructor wearing a 1940’s leather pilot's cap, whom quite evidently was showing signs of an adrenalin rush similar to that of grocery shopping when he plopped down on in behind Frankie. As the novice stumbled to his feet, Mr Grumble plodded back on to the bus, chute in tow, ready to head down aisle 6 for the third time that day. Heaven forbid.

In between the wind deciding if it wants to behave like the wind or not, there was plenty of what one would call “spare time”. And what better way to spend such a thing, in the burbs of Pokolbin, on a 26 degree September day? That chocolate shop I’d spotted on the corner of Broke Road didn’t go unnoticed for a reason; nor did the stench of the smelly cheese shop go –unsmelt? In no apparent order, we indulged in the selection of some cocoa delights before returning to the estate to be told to wait just a little bit longer.

I’m beginning to think maybe they struck a deal with Tempus Two. Making a drooling idiot of myself, I wandered aimlessly around that shop, as I suppose the gaggle of tour bus passengers did as well. 

With an impressive array of delicatessen products to feast our googling eyes upon, how was one to decide whether to go for the Smelly’s Triple Cream Brie, Midnight Moon goat milk or the Binnorie marinated feta?

You don’t decide. You walk over to the other side of the shop, whereby you will be confronted with the best thing about taking your boyfriend’s father skydiving. 

Sorry Frank, your face was priceless after the fall, but the mango gelato left me in a dither. 

And I haven’t even thought about the other 46 flavours on offering. No, not at all.

Did someone say apples?

No, the lady from that fairy tale didn’t give me a few apples to put me to sleep (or poison me???). But the lady at the fruit shop did shoot me a peculiar glance as I purchased these monsters, wondering how my small hands could hold these fruits if my basket was struggling.

Fact: I love apples. Thanks to my dearly beloved mother’s mother, Rosemary, who almost collapsed onto the kitchen floor when she saw my present for her the other evening. No it wasn’t a dead cockroach. It was a Pink Lady. Moreover, this explains the erratic behaviour that also occurred one morning when we ventured out to Flemington markets. 

I swear these things are growing in our gene pools. Or maybe just hers and mine and it skipped a generation because mother dearest hates chokos.

Fact: When I googled “apple”, I was a little befuddled as to why my daily fruit obsession “designs and creates iPod and iTunes, Mac laptop and desktop computers, the OS X operating system and the revolutionary iPhone and iPad”. Well I never knew the power of the Fuji…

Fact: Cloudy apple juice is better for you than clear as it contains four times the amount of polyphenols in it: the good stuff that contains anti-cancer fighting things. You can also find these poly-friends in red wine and chocolate. Two other things that may see me one day almost collapse onto the kitchen floor, as said Rosemary nearly did.

Fact: Don’t peel the skin. Firstly- it contains more antioxidants and fibre than the flesh itself, which by the way is 25% air, hence why they float. Secondly- just be lazy and eat the god damn thing already, would you?

Fact: They are part of the rose family.

Fact: Apples can be canned or juiced.

Or put to death by way of suffocation from high heat, pastry, custard and cream. 

Fact: Apples have mothers too.

laneway fever

amazing. dumbfounded. tall. dark. not scary. inviting. secretive. surprising. treasures. scented. caffeine. roasted vegetables. tapas. beautiful? ney. intriguing. endless. charming. curious. pleasing.

did i mention we went to melbourne? 

consumption of caffeine and chocolate was not amiss. neither was wandering the streets aimlessly, fascinated by the diverse neighbourhoods and the distinctive city vibe. all together meshed in with dedication to each of their teams: clarfiying what 'hood  you have now ventured into, the spirit and wrath is felt tout de suite. 

i hate you tiger, for bringing me back here. couldn't you have lived up to your delayed expectations and grounded us in victoria?