Sutton SA Goes Bush (With a Load of Carrots...)

Last weekend the lovely ladies and gentlemen of Sutton Salvation Army, and their families, took to the bush and spent the weekend on retreat at the Carroty Wood Outdoor Education Centre.

What an excellent time we had too!  I drove down on Friday night after school, confronted by some absolutely diabolical traffic through New Cross and Peckham, so I arrived a little late - but still in time for dinner (most important! especially liked the dessert.... trifle...yum!).  We registered and then were assigned to the various dorms etc - and I was put in with Laura, Michelle and Rachel.  What a fab group of girls!  We had heaps of fun, chatting late into the night (well, late-ish... ok, I'll admit it - only until about midnight but hey, I'm a grand old dame of 35 so I need my beauty sleep...) about meaningless things - the fact that the blanket on your bed is called a DOONA as opposed to a DUVET (go figure?)...

Leisurely awoke on the Saturday and had breakfast, then it was time to meet your team (I was in Darryn's team) for a bit of orienteering. This was pretty good, it was lovely to walk through the woods there (although I'm really pleased I didn't bring my new Blundies because my old Blundies took a caning with the mud!).  Spot of lunch, more team building activities - including bizarre things like getting a foreign friend in a foreign country to call in at the designated time and say 'Carroty Wood sounds like a really great place' in a foreign language (we won that one, thank you Aga!), taking your photo with a complete stranger who wasn't a part of the Salvo group, memorising an article in the Evening Standard, climbing trees... oh and finding the longest 'twig'.  Now can I just say on this one, I was wrongly accused of nicking Steve's group's twig - get this - because they HID IT IN THE BUSH!  You're kidding, right?  Oh I hid that stick in the bush, you can't take it!  Don't be a sore loser, Steve Allcock! If a stick is unattended in the bush, then it's fair game.  (Actually they got their own back, and found a bigger stick, alas!)

Fortunately though, we won this bizarre competition, thank you very much.  Then it was time for a spot of swimming, then the evening meal (yummo again) and finally we sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows.  Dean brought out his guitar and entertained all with his interesting renditions of old Beatles songs...

Sunday was actually a bit more of the same, quick church service followed by a spot of swimming (or group table tennis, with books for bats) - then a gorgeous Sunday roast - triple yummo!  Alas then it was over all too soon, and time to head off back to London...  But everyone agreed that a really fab time had been had!

Anyway, here are some pics:

Team Leader Darryn

Hm - don't know why I look like such a spazz in this one...

It was a very muddy weekend...

Steve and Foxy go looking for another stick - or else they're just orienteering...

Campfire's burning...

The One Where Kylie Is An Absolute Idiot (or "How to enter a country twice in one day")

I know I'm a bit late in posting this, but hey, better late than never. I've been a bit busy lately with school and house-hunting, neither ventures being very successful if truth be told, but it's meant I haven't been keeping up with the blogging. I have actually now got a few posts on the go, and was going to abandon this one, but hey, I know how much you enjoy a laugh at my expense, so here we are... The flight back from Australia was relatively uneventful. First of all, the dreaded farewell at the airport was not as bad as it usually is. Usually, it goes like this: the quiet tapering off of conversation in the car on the way to the airport, as each passenger contemplates the inevitable, followed by the long queue to check in (usually with Dad for moral support, coupled with the obvious questions of 'Have you got your passport?"), then the (if it can be possible) even longer queue for a coffee at the one and only coffee place left open in the food court this late at night, followed by strained conversation over our 'last supper'. This is then usually broken by Mum with comments of 'ooh Kyles, they're boarding in 60 minutes... 50 minutes... 45 minutes... maybe you'd better get going', after which we make the slow and horribly painful walk to the 'flood' gate - so named because of the floods of tears experienced once we're there. But this time I was determined it would be easier. First of all, on the way to the airport I told Dad to just drop me off and go, no coffees this time - and he was ok with that - but then promptly changed my mind. Just as well, because while we were in the check-in queue, Louise phoned to say that she and Sheldon were in the neighbourhood and were popping in to say goodbye. This turned out to be the best thing, because their presence and good natured chat lightened the mood and thus the 'flood' gate did not live up to its name, and instead became the 'departure' gate this time. Thank you Lou and Shel. Anyway, on the first leg of the journey I had an aisle seat next to a fairly antisocial bloke who slept for most of the flight, which meant that he didn't disturb me with loo visits and so on. This allowed me to get a little sleep, which I really needed, as I would only have a few hours in transit in Singapore before the final 14 hour or so leg back to London, and I had made plans to meet Jun for a coffee at the airport so we could discuss the upcoming Sweden trip. This was no mean feat actually, our breakfast meeting, as for this to take place, it meant that I had to fill in an immigration card and formally enter Singapore, just so I could go landside and meet Jun in the arrivals hall. I duly fill in my card, go through the gates and so on, and we meet up. We went upstairs to Starbucks and were there for some time chatting about the plans for the Sweden trip. It sounds like its going to be a good one too, so stay posted here on kmuki.blogspot.com for the reports, which will be in February. We chatted for about an hour or so and then it was time for me to leave Singapore, go airside and board the plane. Jun walked with me to the departure gate, said farewell, and off I went. I handed in the little white portion of my landing card so I could leave Singapore, got stamped out, and headed off to do some last minute shopping. It would only have been about 10 minutes later, when I was rummaging around in my bag to get my purse, that I suddenly had that terrible, gut-wrenching, sinking feeling as I realised something was horribly wrong. Horribly wrong! I was missing... .... my camcorder and camera! Oh no! Where could they be? I frantically searched through my backpack, flinging undies and all sorts out of the bag, in the hopes that they were tucked in behind something, but no, they weren't there! And I knew I'd had them with me when I got off the plane, because I'd taken them out of my backpack as they were just a bit too bulky, and were poking into me, and I'd slung them around my neck! And Mel and Beck and everyone had 'borrowed' them at our farewell at Enchilada's and left little messages and pictures on them - which I now wouldn't get to see! Aaaaggghhh! Mass panic! More frantic flinging of stuff! So I quickly get back on the phone to Jun, who was by this point now driving out of the airport. "Jun, did I leave my camcorder bag at Starbucks? Can you please run back and check?!" Jun, being the gentleman that he is, turned the car back around and headed back to Starbucks, whilst I literally (and I mean, literally) flew through the airport, scribbled out another immigration card, ran back into Singapore (hurriedly answering the customs dude's questions - hurry up fella!) and raced back up to Starbucks, only to see a man walking off with my camcorder! Stop, stop, STOP! That's my camera! Luckily for me the man was Jun! Phew, what a relief - I could've kissed him, I was so pleased that he'd got my camera (and how lucky was I that it was still there eh?). Another quick set of goodbyes, quick stamp of the passport, and I was back airside (with just enough time to make it to the departure gate!) Seriously, if my head wasn't screwed on...

Marcella Does Enchilada's

I just love this pic of my gorgeous niece Marcella taken recently when Dad took us out to lunch at Enchilada's at Aspley. Isn't she a real honey?

Give Me A Home Among The Gumtrees

So I had an absolutely brilliant time at home, it was so great to see all the fam and spend as much time with them as I could. Alas the time went all too quick!

Some of the highlights...

* Christmas with the fam - this year it was really good, one of (if not the) best ever! Ta guys...

* Seeing my gorgeous nephews and nieces and getting to spend time with them (especially the many movies I saw with Lach and Haz)
* Catching up with old friends and fam

* The BBQ at Mum and Dad's

* Bethany's dedication

Here are some pics...

My beautiful Bethany's dedication - and my gorgeous boys!

Beck, Dem and Cheeky Chel!

All the girls!The grand and greatgrand kids (well as many as were there) - some of whom I hadn't seen in 10 years... with Grandma and Grandpa Moore at the BBQ at Mum and Dad's

Grandpa, Nanny, Me, Grandma, Grandpa

The Year In Review

It's New Year's Eve, so in true Bridget Jones style, I thought I'd do a bit of a summary of my 2007. Here goes: Number of kilos lost: not enough Number of kilos gained: too many to mention, especially since Christmas! Number of blog posts: 126 (pretty impressive, eh?) Number of countries visited: oooh, now I have to think for a second - 19? Australia, Singapore, Iceland, France, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Albania, Montenegro, Macedonia, Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, Israel, Germany, Belgium.... not bad for 1 year, eh? Number of new nieces: 1 Number of houses lived in: 1 (but now currently homeless) Number of gyms joined and then quit: 1 Number of boyfriends: Alas, none! Nah, it's too difficult to do a Bridget Jones on this one. Can't think of how to make it witty enough, sorry. Apologies for my poor efforts, ok? I guess though all that is left to say is that 2007 was a pretty good year, rock on 2008! How was your 2007?

Merry Christmas

Ok I know I'm posting this a few days after Christmas but hey, I was very busy that day (and subsequent days) and also if I don't do this now it will look dumb as it will appear on blogger dated as Jan 2008...

Christmas Day was very good. I have to say I haven't had as good a Christmas as this one in a very long time. It didn't start off that way though - don't get me wrong, it was lovely to open presents with Mum and Dad and have it be "just us" on Christmas morning, but when I got to the meeting, and we were only just on time, so I didn't see many of my friends before the service, and then got to the pew, and Marcella blanked me, and then squealed at me when I tried to say hello (all during the first song) - well that was somewhat depressing! Also, looking around the hall and seeing the new babies, and all the changes, well, that made me feel very old and also, if I be really honest, somewhat left out. I tried to focus on the positives, Nanny and Grandpa were there, Grandma and Grandpa too - and Beck and Dem, Mum and Dad - but still I couldn't shake my depressed mood.

So I tried to sing the first song, but hey, it wasn't even a carol, and I didn't really know it, and the music was really loud, and Marcella was bawling, and tears were welling up... but then, a miracle! Suddenly I heard (very loudly, I might add) a voice yelling "Auntie Kylie!", and I looked down the pew, and there was Harry, running towards me, arms outstretched! He enveloped me in one of his neck-crunching bear hugs (no mean feat for a 7 year old, I tell you), and instantly I felt so much better, felt loved, felt like I belonged again, felt like I WAS HOME. Mel and Kev had arrived with their clan - all a surprise, I didn't know they were coming to North Brisbane for the service! I was able then to get into the spirit of Christmas and I would have to say, that one moment set me up for the rest of the day.

Mum tried something a bit different this year, instead of the usual hot Christmas dinner, with turkey, chicken, ham, all the trimmings, plus Grandpa's mushy peas, this time we had a cold dinner. This consisted of still turkey, chicken and ham, but with avocado and something salad by Beck, Mel's fried rice and potato bake, pasta salad, potato salad, a couple of kilos of the juicest, plumpest, largest tiger prawns you could ever hope for, plus a swag of crabs (sandies and muddies) that Lach and Dad had caught over the previous week or two, kept alive in the live bait box - somewhat like the fatted calf - oh boy were they yum. With Mum's famous Christmas pudding for dessert - yum-o!

Then there were the presents - we took our time opening them, only one person at a time (took forever but at least you got to see what everyone got and see their reactions too - no pressure mind!) - Lach was being santa until he got a Ben 10 watch from me, then he kind of got distracted and forgot that he was supposed to hand out the presents! So I had to take over the honours...

The boys then spent the afternoon in between playing their playstation and swimming in the pool (despite it being a bit windy and unusually on the chilly side - there's a cyclone warning up north or something that's causing the big wind and cooler temperatures - its supposed to be 27 degrees but with the wind feels more like 21) and we sat around chatting for a bit before Beck, Dem and Marcella had to head off to Dem's fam's Christmas celebrations.

Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle David, Aunty Christine and Simeon turned up for "Christmas 2" - the evening meal - which basically consisted of leftovers but this time with Tiramisu cheesecake and a Fruit cheesecake - oh boy, my hips didn't know what hit them! Going to seriously need to do some sort of exercise over the next few days (yeah, like that's going to happen with dodgy ribs!).

Anyway, what a truly lovely day. I hope you had just as good a Christmas too.
Merry Christmas! Roll on the New Year...

Mel, Bethany, Beck, Me after church

Good To Be Home

My sister Beck commented the other day that I hadn't updated my blog since something like 15th December. I guess because I am at home at the moment, and because its mostly Aussie family and friends who read my blog (if anyone actually reads it at all!) I kind of figured that they all know what I've been doing, as I've been with them - but on the off-chance any of my overseas friends are interested, here is a quick blog update...

Well Mal and I arrived safely back in the lovely Bris Vegas after our lengthy and fortunately relatively pain-free (well, except for my ribs, that is!) flight home. We'd overnighted in Singapore, which gave me a chance to meet up with Jun (fast becoming our annual tradition now) and also this time Wei Na, who I hadn't seen for some 3 or 4 years, which was lovely. We went out in a part of Singapore called Clarke Quay, where a new shopping complex opened up this year, and which also has become one of the most popular parts of the city for restaurants and night-life. It was really good to see them again and I had a great time catching up. Top stuff, eh Jun!

When we arrived in Brisbane it seemed like the whole of Australia (with a couple of Germans and Dutch chucked in) arrived too - Mal and my bags were one of the last to be let off the plane and then we had to join the horrendously long 'goods to declare' queue. I had brought some shortbread, chocolates, lollies, tea and stuff as gifts - plus my usual Wensleydale cheese for Mum - but this time the customs dudes have been taking lessons in how to be mini-Hitlers (probably from their Pommy counterparts) - and the blighter that I got confiscated my cheese. His argument was that there had been foot and mouth disease this year in the UK (like, when hasn't there been? - and also, this time it was in Surrey, so learn your geography dude, the Yorkshire Dales are in the North, and Surrey is in the South, near London). I hope he enjoyed my cheese for Christmas with a piece of fruit cake or something. The blighter!

The nephews and nieces were unfortunately absent from the welcoming party at the airport, which this time just consisted of Mum and Dad, but it was lovely to see them anyway and we then made our way back home via Nanny and Pop's, and Grandma and Grandpa's - so I didn't feel like I'd missed out too much. The reunion with the rest of the fam would take place the next day. Too tired now for anything, I crashed and went off to sleep. Not for long though, awake again at 4.30am, which is strange for me, as I don't normally suffer from jetlag when coming TO Australia, its usually only when I go back to England that I really suffer. So I lay there for ages and then finally got up around 5.30, made myself a cuppa and sat out on the back porch looking out over the canal, listening to the birds singing, enjoying the warm sun on my face... ah, this is the life!

Beck had arranged for everyone to come over for breakfast at Mum's (but Dad had forgotten he'd organised a dental appointment for me at the same time, which I subsequently missed and had to reschedule!). Demo cooked up some lovely French toast, bacon, eggs and so on, on Mum's bbq, and we had that out by the pool. I got the chance to meet my cute new niece Bethany, now just shy of 2 months old. Marcella, my other niece, is now a year old and boy is she a little honey! But she's very shy and basically took one look at me and bawled. Nice to know I have that effect on her. I can see there's a lot of work to be done before she'll be accepting of me.

Lachie and Harry though, well, they just bowled me over with hugs and kisses! And oh boy, have they grown a lot this year, they're real little boys now (well not so little I guess at 9 and 7) - Lach was down on the pontoon showing me how to check the crab pots (and he caught a couple too, a nice sandy and a good muddy which we later ate Christmas day). And they want to take me out in the dinghy to go to the shop for icecream... how cool is that?

Anyway, it was a lovely breakfast, good to see everyone again, and I can't wait to spend some quality time with all the fam over the next few weeks.... so good to be home...

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

These past few weeks have been some of the toughest I've ever been through in my life, I reckon. And the only way I've made it through to the other side has only been through the support of my friends and family. So it's highly appropriate I think that I give some big thank you's... To Erik: Thank you for everything you did to make sure that Bowles went smoothly. Thanks for all your support with the kids, your technical wizardry with the video / sound (especially the fancy concert intro with the Jenneh video - oh and thanks for making me look like an idiot with my 'Oscar-winning' (not!) dramatic acting performance to accompany it), thanks for setting cover for me at school, for making sure the music department didn't fall apart... Thanks pretty much for everything (especially for putting up with me being a bit of a git too... sorry about that...) To Mat: Thanks for making sure the Yr 10 Abolition of Slavery project was a success. Seriously, if it wasn't for your input, the thing probably would've been a fiasco. Thanks also for making sure Concert Band didn't fall apart, the camp was a success - thanks for your support and encouragement too. And for everything you do! To Agnieszka: Thanks for helping me to pack my boxes! Would've been in a big pickle otherwise... To Paul: Thanks for (to put an Americanism on it) 'stepping up' and teaching all my classes whilst I've been off - that's been a big deal for a student teacher - thanks for being a good mate - and thanks also for helping me move today! To Mal and Ken: Thanks so much for your help with the move today, seriously wouldn't have been able to do it without you (literally - Ken we really needed your muscle power! - and great Luton van driving skills...). Oh and thanks for being willing to let me stay with you this week when it looked like I needed it! To Jane: Thanks for helping with the move and also for your support. Oh and thanks for the Starbucks too! To Mrs Mingay: Thanks for helping me sort out somewhere to keep my stuff til I find somewhere to live, thanks for all your support and kind words... To Olive: Thanks for letting me keep my stuff in your garage! Hopefullly I got everyone in there, but if not, thanks anyway for all your help! The good news is that the people who are moving in here after us have decided to take my bed (seriously that thing was sooo heavy, I was absolutely dreading having to move it) - which means that we didn't need to move it today! Yay! And that now means that I can stay here for another week (now that I have something to sleep on) - so I haven't got to schlep to school from Chessington on some crusty, overcrowded British Rail train... (but thanks again Mal and Ken for the kind offer of a place to stay anyway)... Now if only this stupid, persistent cold would go.... and my ribs would heal....

School Music Camp

Well last weekend saw me, 9 other teachers and 40 odd kids off to Music Camp at an outdoor education centre near Tunbridge Wells, Kent.  The centre has to remain unnamed because one of the students googled it and came up with this blog...

First of all I would like to say that it was a real success, the kids totally enjoyed themselves and made some good progress musically. The staff were top quality, and I absolutely could not have done without them - particularly as I myself was still not well.

In fact, two days before the camp was due to start, I was out carolling with Sutton Salvos in Wimbledon for the turning on of the lights for St Raphael's Hospice. It was pretty cold, and there were only 4 of us there, battling the elements - and I was the only tuba. You try playing tuba with a cold! I could only manage a breath span of 2 or 3 notes - made for real legato playing, I'll tell you - NOT! Anyway, as we get to the end of the last carol, I'm still hacking up a lung, and I start to feel a bit of a stitch developing in my side.

The next morning (the day before the camp) the stitch was absolutely UNBEARABLE! Complete and utter agony. I made it into school but realised pretty quick that I just could not stay - and in fact needed to go to Accident and Emergency at King's College Hospital. So the school called a cab for me and off I went - only to discover that I have sprained my intercostal muscles from coughing. Sprained ribs! Seriously... you wouldn't read about it...

So the doctor signs me off for the next few days - no camp for me. But I'm the lead teacher on the camp - not very likely that I'll be able to take the time off....

Thursday (the day of the camp) came, and I dutifully phone into school to explain my situation, and both the deputy head and my line manager put the hard word on me! No, you need to go to the camp.... I tried to explain that I would go down on Friday (thinking maybe I would go Friday afternoon / evening) but they reckoned that I wouldn't be able to drive down (I would be in too much pain), that I wouldn't be able to manage my luggage on the train (yeah right) and that if I go down today with the kids I could just go straight to bed. Yeah, as if. Like I'm going to get quality sleep in a room off a corridor full of excited kids on their first night of camp! But they kept it up, put the hard word on - pressure pressure pressure - seriously, what planet are these people from? So of course I felt obligated to go and went.

What a stupid move that was. I tried to go straight to bed but the kids made such a racket, who could sleep? And also, the weather was sooo cold - so everytime I went out into that good, clean, cold, country air, I would have a coughing fit of the highest proportions - just what sprained ribs need!

For the next few days I tried to take every opportunity I could do get some rest, but I was having to conduct the concert band, and help supervise kids, yada yada - and all the while, really they didn't need me there anyway. There were enough music teachers there that they would've covered the band if I'd asked, and to be fair, the staff were really supportive and tried to make sure I really didn't have to do too much anyway. I would love to say I had a great time but to be honest, I was in excruciating pain pretty much the whole time - and I'm afraid I took it out on my poor colleague Erik, who had done such an amazing job organising the whole thing. He really was amazing, and I am deeply indebted to him for the success of the camp.

Anyway, I survived, the camp was enjoyed by the kids, the concert was ok... but I've spent the last 3 days paying for it! I went into school on Monday in excruciating pain and so many people came up and asked me what on earth I was doing at school! Finally the Deputy Head saw me and told me to go home and stay there until I get better (should've let me do that last weekend, eh?) so I went home and went promptly to the doctor. This time I begged him to give me antibiotics, or something other than ibuprofen (like ibuprofen actually works! As if...) and finally he gave me Amoxicillin - although as he was writing out the script he told me actually not to take it! (Why write the script then?). This is because he says that my infection is viral, not bacterial. Anyway, I've now been off school for 3 days, unable to do anything other than lie still in bed... (although I still had to go to school tonight for a concert - it never ends here at CEBS). I still don't really feel like I'm getting better and my ribs are seriously killing me! And I have to move out this weekend - when (and how?) am I going to get the chance to pack? When am I actually going to be well enough to pack? I seriously can't lift anything...

So I feel pretty low at the moment, and pretty sick of being SICK!

An Open Letter to the Fat, Balding, Drunken British Yob in Brugges

Dear Mr Fat, Balding, Drunken British Yob we met in Brugges,

Yes you.  Thank you for reinforcing my belief that British tourists when abroad are complete and utter twats.

We met you at the restaurant on the square in Brugges on Saturday night.  You and your simpleton family were on about their 4th or 5th bottle of wine when we arrived.  You particularly were being loud mouthed and noisy, but hey - we made our way to our table and ignored you.  Well, we managed to until I needed to go to the toilet.  I got up to go and you first of all insulted me by calling me a boy, and second of all insinuated that I was a paedophile as you expressed your concern about what I might exactly do with your roly poly lump of a son, who it seemed also needed to go.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree on that one, now does it?

Then when I returned to my table you loudly wondered again what I had done with the git.  To the consternation of the whole restaurant, looking down into their meals out of embarrassment for yet another 'Brit Abroad'.

And then, when it was time for us to go, you again made some loud, obnoxious comment about me and your butt-ugly offspring, which this time received uproarious laughter from your inebriated simpleton family.

But the final straw was the Inspector Gadget reference you made when I put on my coat.  Now that was real wit, wasn't it?

So I would just like to say to you, congratulations, you spoiled my weekend in Brugges, and reinforced for me two things - first of all, that Brits abroad can be total yobs, and second of all - that every day I wake up and thank God that I'M NOT BRITISH!!!!