Tieri Maths

Pluses of a teeny country town;
1. You know ALL your neighbors 

2. You can leave your doors/cars unlocked, ALL the time

3. You’re allowed to venture EVERYWHERE

4. You have a huge, gigantic extended family, and you love EVERYONE of them 

Minuses of a teeny country town;

1. You’re neighbors ALL know you. 

Consequently, your neighbors, left, right, back yard, across the road, and diagonal in every direction, can all report on your whereabouts, and activity, on call.
2. You actually leave your doors/cars unlocked

You leave yourself open to the renegade few, who rob you of your trinkets and small change, with the use of matches and dumb luck. Only one time though.

You are randomly, yet consistently vulnerable to hungry possums and gremlins, who are either in your pantry, robbing your icing sugar, or hovering at your doorway, angry, noisy, terrifying and forever embedded on your memory.

Young punks will steal your car, using stolen siphoned fuel from other trusting homes, drive to emerald, and wreck your sunnies.

3. You venture EVERYWHERE 

Not even the city, or in our circumstance, town, limits, mark the end of your journey.

Sorry Mumma, but we did go to Emerald for fast food! Breaking down in the drive through of the Maraboon Tavern on our way out of town (not our car). And to Lillyvale, purely for fun, swimming and swinging out the big old gum tree. 

I guess knowing every back road and fire break by heart just wasn’t enough.

Keeping it in town however, there honestly isn’t a patch of Tieri I haven’t a memory for. Usually dodgy, but always relatively harmless and great fun. 

Eg. Riding in the old Bongo Van on Halloween. With young blokes (one of them Dan) sliding the door open to flour bomb trick or treaters, before venturing to the motorbike track to let off sparkler bombs.

Or, Footy fields + massive lightning storm + boys + cars + best mates + young crazy brains!!

Just a few crazy nights of many.

4. You absolutely love to bits, EVERY one of your huge, gigantic extended family 

This is always amazing when, no matter the distance, time or circumstance, you can run into someone and simply click back into the “good old days”, having a very clear and strong bond that only small towns can create.

Staying in touch is no problem with today’s technology, but even without that tech link, the bond stays strong.

The reason this is a minus? 

When you lose someone, someone from your town family, my Tieri town family. 

It breaks your heart. 
It rekindles old memories. 

It sends the tears, like heavy summer rain drops down your face.

It blocks your chest.

It blurs your head.

It hurts.

My heart and head hurt tonight. 

It’s impossible not to. 

I’ve blogged about this before. The touch one, touch all mentality of small towns. 

I’d never swap it for the world. Regardless of the pain.

Thanks for being part of my crazy teenage life Clint. 

Hay Shed. 

Live album. 

Cruiser Utes 

and Burbon. 

All memories now tinged with sadness, but thought of with a smile, from when we were in our prime.

Cheers my friend, and endless love and strength to your family.

Fly high xx


Grief and Jellyfish

They say that people who have been stung by our notorious box jellyfish (and survived), suffer a strange phenomenon for years after.
They leave a very wicked scar these jellies, and the story goes that the scar flares up and even causes pain, whenever the victim returns to the sea.


Now I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and have come a conclusion. 

I see death as a jellyfish. And grief as her sting.

The initial sting of grief, no matter how well prepared you are, is paralyzing, intense and agonizing.

It feels like you’re there in that moment forever, when in reality time passes as it always has.

The tide comes in and out. The world turns. Life goes on.

And like it or not, you go with it.

The jelly, death, drifts off with the current. Unaware of the damage it has done.

You heal. Slowly at first. Tender. A scar now sits where the sting hit.  

And before you know it. You smile again. You laugh again. You love again.

But like a jellyfish sting when you near the ocean, the scar flares with different triggers.

A memory. 

A song. 

A smell. 

A sound. 

A date. 

And for a while that burn, that pain, is as real as the day it was inflicted.

I know this.

I feel this.

But, unlike that day, you’ve seen the other side of this. 

Your scar is old now. Tough. 

You wear it like a badge of honor. 

Like a tattoo.

With pride.

You know you’ll weather this pain, as you’ve done before. 

And the sting is there to remind you of how far you’ve come, and of the gap left behind by death. 

Which should never be forgotten.

Tomorrow marks the 22nd year of my fathers death, and my scar has been itching all week. 

Tomorrow is my day to figuratively step into the ocean and grieve for a day, let the memories wash over me like waves, indulge in some smells, sounds and tastes that take me back. Let it sting.

Float on my back with my face to the sun, and smile. 

Remember, and let love warm every inch of me. 

Jelly’s just do what they do. Death does what it does.

Pain subsides.

Scars remain.

Love is eternal.

And life goes on.

Mirror, Mirror…

I turned our girls bathroom mirror into a wall of decay a few months ago. Actually, a year or so ago. 

Possibly 2. 

Anyway, it served its purpose on encouraging tooth brushing, much like the photo from Womens Day of Danniella Westbrook from EastEnders with a deviated septum discouraged nose picking when they were little. 

But my wall of decay slightly freaked out tradies doing repairs, and more so lately, freaked out the now teenage girls visiting friends. 

So it had to go.

It took me very little time to decide what to replace it with.

I would have loved a “clean up after yourselves, you animals” wall.

Or a “for gods sake, leave the hairbrushes/remote/phone chargers where you found them” wall.

Or even a “if it’s not yours, don’t wear it” wall.

However, despite the definite need for these walls, my brightest idea outshone all the rest. I made a wall of self worth.

I tell them all the time, but sometimes, like with a vision board, if you see it, and read it every day, you start to believe it, and achieve it.

So every morning, they will see themselves, in all their baggy eyed, bed haired glory, and, hopefully, reaffirm their self worth, self belief, and confidence.

I don’t want them thinking their shit hot, that’s not the point. The point is, to make them understand their worth. 

They, like every daughter, everywhere, are worth more than any beauty magazine will have you believe. 

Worth more than any ridiculous mannequin in a store front. 

More than any selfish boy who won’t let you grow and explore the world.

More than any sweet talking boy who has no interest in what makes you so wonderful.

More than any maths/English assignment.

More than any grade.

More than any bull shite instagram/Facebook post.

More than any “like”.

More than trying to live up to any expectation.

That they’re worth more than gold.

Your purpose, my girls. Your job in this life. Is to go out there and be uniquely you.

Use your manners. 

Be kind.

Be respectful.

Be responsible.

Put that empathy to use. Always.

Understand that you were born into privilege with a safe house, stable family.

Also understand that this is undeniably party responsible for who/where you are, but that YOU are responsible for the rest.

Your hard work.

Your kindness.

Your resilience.

Your dedication.

Your common sense, will get you everywhere.

Believe in yourself, and you can do absolutely anything.

Hopefully, my new wall will do all of this. Whilst also reminding them that the old wall was there to remind them to brush their stinkin teeth.

And maybe the next plumber to call through will leave with a grin, and an incentive to encourage his daughter or son. Instead of a furrowed brow and a sideways glance.

The second pic is a message from my G3. 

“Why are you so annoying Mum”

They really do love me. 

Be kind people!!!

18 tomorrow 

18 tomorrow Leaving the proverbial teenage years behind, stepping into the boots of an adult.

How’d you get so big?

You can now do nearly everything legally.

Cigarettes and booze are there for the taking. Thank the gods you hate smokes and stink eye smokers. And you’ve exercised more caution and responsibility towards alcohol than your father and I ever did as teens, so I rest safe in the knowledge you’ll continue to do so. 

How’d you get so smart?

You can vote!

And I’m over the moon at your excitement about this. I remember my first election and how happy I was to have my say, and make my contribution to the country. And now you can do the same, and you take a vested interest in politics and the direction our nation is going.

How’d you get so proactive?

Your about a fortnight off getting your green P’s (provisional driving license). And I’m forever thanking my lucky stars that you know your limits. Pulling up to use your phone, and taking it steady, not racing your way around. (Except that one time which we won’t talk about.)

How’d you get so safe?

You are making a living. And saving for a future. You don’t take it for granted that you are on good money with your job. And every day when you rub your eyes at 5 & 4 am, you get out there and give it your all. Asking questions, listening, and taking on every job, large and small. Your coming home in the afternoons is my favourite part of the day. Listening to you talk non stop about your day, the people you work with and jobs done, takes me back to when you first started school. Except up to now, you’ve never managed to leave your shoes behind. Every day.

Your on the absolute right track, and you know how the saying goes, if you love your job you’ll never work a day in your life.

How’d you get such a great work ethic?

You can make your own decisions. Given, this has been the case for a while now. They say you are who you hang out with. And I must say, you’ve made smashing choices in friends. With the exception of very few, I love being around your peers. I love that they are there to step in when your heart is hurting, and a mums voice, touch and advice just is not wanted. I can rest easier knowing they love you enough to give you smart advice and compassion, until you are ready to let me back in.

I also love that you’re always there to reciprocate. I’ve seen you drop everything to help your friends. To be a shoulder for their teary heads, to let them know your there, regardless of their sometimes crazy decisions. Your there for your sisters when they need you. And your always there for me. You love your puppers like nobody can! And your compassion and empathy towards people and animals makes my heart swell. You have a stubborn heart, which will soften with time. You’ve had your heart broken, more than once, but it’s healed twice as tough. And is loving even in sadness.

How’d you get such a big heart?

You face problems head on. Something I’ve always struggled with. You face your fears, and take on new challenges without a backward glance. Cutting out behind a boat, climbing the rigging on sail boats, chasing boar pigs, or walking into a totally new workplace knowing no one. You are one tough cookie.

How’d you get so brave?

As much as it breaks my heart, you can do and go anywhere you want now. You tell me often. You have plans out the wazoo. With a calendar dotted with events and festivals. You sit with your sisters and plan your next outfit, but are as happy to rock out at a concert with your mates, as you are to head out the lake skiing with your family. I hope that never changes. I love your gypsy spirit.

How’d you get so adventurous?

It’s hard for me to relate to you now my darling. I was ready to have you, at your age. I went down a path I don’t want any of you to take. I made decisions before you were a twinkle in my eye that were not great. Your dad and I both did. So I do want you, all of you, to do as I say, not as I do. And I know that now, we don’t always set the best example of a healthy relationship. But we love you, and each other fiercely.

I’d like for your dad and I to take credit for every part of you. And I know we’ve definitely contributed, but there are many contributing factors to you G1. The major one being you.

You are responsible for you. You’re why you’re doing so well in your job. You’re why your friends love you. You’re why the bloody sun shines in my life. And you deserve absolutely nothing, but happiness, now and forever.

Always see yourself through my eyes when you look in the mirror baby. 

You’re amazing. And no, I don’t have to say that. You can be a real biatch too. 

I’d love to say a big “in your face” to the doubters and nay sayers who shook their heads at your teenage Mum and Dad. But the truth is, we had none. We have had nothing but love and support in our journey as parents. And like all parents, we make do with what we have, and do the best we know how. 

And when we see you, we know we’ve done a smashing job baby. Reaffirmed by the way others speak of you. And love you.

And that there is every chance your sisters will come out the teenage end ok too! 

It’s a ride that never ends, being a mum. But I wouldn’t swap it for quids kiddo.

Happy 18th baby, we love you xx

NZ, South Island. An Earl family reflection 

It’s been an amazing trip to New Zealand’s South Island for our family.Everything I knew of New Zealand before this holiday was from my beloved Fardie’s Footrot Flats comic books.

And you’d be surprised how knowledgeable that made me!

The country side is incredible, across the entire island. 

There honestly was not one stretch of road that didn’t have me shaking my head in awe, at the view from the windscreen.

I knew there were lots of sheep over here, but until you see that paddocks full of them and their waggly tailed lambs, you just can’t comprehend it.

The paddocks too with their giant tree windbreaks/hedges!

The big fat headed wooly looking cows that I could have just pulled over and snuggled into!

The immense amounts of water and lush green grass see to it that every member of livestock in the fields are fat and content.

So different from home.

The rivers are totally beyond compare. With the majority ice blue and roaring, straight from the mountain snow. Their clarity completely denotes their freezing temperature!

Rainforests so full of ferns, they seem impassable, and the beaches wild and rugged.

The mountains are incredible. Seeing the this morning as flew out, the snow caps laying on top of the clouds like luck dragons, with the dawn glow burning on their edges. Awesome, in the true meaning of the word.

From a tourist point of view, we never ran into an unfriendly person! 

Each attraction we visited, or adventure we partook, was well organised and went incredibly smoothly.

Christchurch taxis are probably the slowest we’ve encountered, leaving us stranded in the rain on arrival, and having a heart attack this morning at 4am that they were never going to arrive! But it is a big city, and we’re not big taxi takers, so that’s all relative.

We hired a motor home, like much of NZ tourists, and found that every town was welcoming of these vehicles too.

Each van park has dump points and places to empty your grey water, which is kept in a tank.

The tom tom or GPS in the van was incredibly accurate, giving advice on traffic accidents and road works well in advance, and with plenty of info, points of interest and wifi.

We mostly stayed in Top 10 parks, much like Big 4’s at home.

Features to write home about, 

Christchurch top 10 cool Indoor pool with slide, Very good, big camp kitchen and warm toilets and showers.

Tekapo van park

Amazing views if you book a lake side side, ok kitchen, small but with ovens. Unisex toilets and showers, but they were warm!

Dundendin Top 10

Very busy part of the city, weirdly set out on its land, big old (cold) games hall and ok kitchen , toilets and showers (no shelves in showers. Crazy)

Queenstown Creeksyde 

Good location, short walk to everything you need. Quirky park. Good toilets/showers, great outdoor kitchen. Well with filtered water to fill water bottles.

TeAnu Top 10

Good location, across from lake. Great camp kitchen, the best we encountered.

Great, warm toilets/showers.

Wanaka Top 10

Bit far out of town, with an ok kitchen and (cold) ok toilets/showers, and a playground.

Greymouth Top 10


Great outdoor kitchen with Webbers undercover and outdoors. 

Ok (cold) inside kitchen, Games room, but everything cost money to use (cold)

Fantastic toilets/showers with heated floors and miles of room! Our favourites!

Hanmer Springs Top 10

Nice and close to the Springs, ok (cold) kitchen, and ok toilets/showers (cold).


And our last night we stayed at the Airport Delta which was a short taxi ride to the Airport.

Like I said, it’s been unreal.

But please don’t get me wrong, it had its usual family dramas.

There’s was plenty of bitching and moaning.

The kids fought about hairbrushes and headphones (still fighting about headphones), who sat where and who slept where.

We did push the envelope by putting 3 teenagers in a van with their parents for 2 weeks, and then further by making them all take the biggest bed. (They’ve done bloody awesome if you ask me).

We had threats to move out, and go to boarding school. Nasty words whispered under breath (boots), and behaviour that had me pulling out the old “have a think about where you are and what we’re doing here”, and Dan letting loose his hair trigger with swears and yelling.

I was furious when Dan went out drinking one night, and he was furious every time I added a landmark to our must see list.

But we all come round eventually.

So please don’t think it’s all easy sailing, as it’s not. 

I could have cried in frustration in Disney land on our trip a few years ago, screaming “this is the happiest place on earth dammit!”.

Every trip has its bumps, because that’s life.

The good times, happiness and amazing memories far outweigh the stress and cattiness.

And with a 3am start, and another 4 hours of flights, more customs stress (is chocolate classed as dairy) and a 2 hour drive still ahead of us, I’ve no doubt we’re in for more.


Letters to Willow #14

Evening baby Willow!Our last day in NZ. Sniff, sniff.

But all is not lost, we get to see you soon!

We sorted the van and repacked our gear, then drove across into Christchurch.

The weather welcomed us today, like it did 2 weeks ago.

Freezing and rainy.

We dropped the van off, donated all our uneaten food to some Italian tourists just starting their journey, checked into our motel and went to explore the city.

You’d never believe it, but G3 realised she’d left her coat at our room after we’d been dropped off.

Seems no amount of Mums nagging about jackets ever gets through.

Considering the temperature (probably around 5) and rain, she did well not to whine too much throughout the afternoon.

The earthquake damage is still very evident, and the rebuild will no doubt continue for years to come.

The big church in the city centre is incredible!

With no idea where were going or what there was to see, we ventured off towards shelter.

Now that right there is something we’ve found lacking over here.

Where are your shelters NZ?!

Googling on our 1 NZ phone, we happened up on a very cool little cafe that mum had actually been recommended!

C-one Espresso, I guess it’s an old post office or bank, with pneumatic tubes running all over the place.

The kids ordered curly fries, which were delivered in a little canister, via the tubes!

Very cool!

With hours to kill before dinner, we all agreed on exploring the museum.

Even though it was quite a hike.

Another day, another hike.

Our poor little legs.

The museum was an amazing relief after the freezing wind and rain, and turned out to be one of the best museums we’ve ever explored.

There was miles of NZ history, an amazing Antarctic section, Egypt, Asia, Dinosaurs (awesome) and a great little explore section with heaps of animals (again, awesome)!

G1 and Mum could have spent all day in there, but Dad had had his fill, and we had to move on.

Everyone was thrilled, especially G3, to set out into the rain again, and follow google maps, blindly, to our dinner destination.

Dad spotted some tourists in Brisbane airport on our way here, wearing Bacon Brothers T-shirts, so he researched, found out their story, and there marks our dinner of choice!

It was the beard discount that put them over the edge, but gosh their burgers are pretty amazing too!

We found them tucked into a very cool food court thing called Little High Eatery on High Street.

Highly recommend!

We opted for a taxi home, and are now drowsily watching the kids watch Disney channel, soaking up the heaters, and mentally preparing for tomorrow’s 6am departure.

We are disappointed we couldn’t see Christchurch in its glory, but mum sees it as a bit of a Harry and the Hendersons end to our trip.

This utter rubbish weather is New Zealand crying and throwing rocks at us to make the abandonment less heart breaking.

We get it New Zealand.

We love you too.

Thanks for the amazing holiday, we absolutely loved it, and are happy to go with only Killer Whales and whitebait left on our to do list. 

Seems we’ll have to return. 

Nigh nigh Pup

We’ll see you tomorrow! 

Wish us luck on our travels 

Love Stan xx

Letters to Willow #13

Evening Willow and host family!A pretty steady day, as far as the rest of our trip has gone.

And the weather is pretty steady too.

It’s raining. Fitting however as today was a pretty rainy feeling day.

Mum cried a few rivers.

We couldn’t line up times to meet our Puke River contact, but dropped off some CFMEU merchandise to a son in law in Greymouth, and then headed out.

Seems we find coal wherever we travel, and there are plenty of memorials and relics around Greymouth. The Brunner Coal Mine site is amazing. We walked all through the old brick works and right up the air shafts, crossed the bridge to the old town sight, and then ventured down to the original mine entrance! Just meters above the river, embedded in the bank! 


Sulphur is still funnelling out like dragons breath, and it brought home the 1896 disaster, and the 65 men and boys lost.

Very haunting and sad.

From one heartbreak to another, with a visit to the Pike River memorial.

It’s amazing that a place can make you physically hurt. And mums getting teary just thinking of it. This memorial is beautiful.

We stopped and paid our respects at every monument.

The tags on the board are gut wrenching to see. But it’s so important to stop and give them all the respect and love they deserve.

Dad watered some memorial plants, and Mum left a beer, eureka flag and a CFMEU badge. 

Disasters like this should never happen. 

November 19, 2010, and the 29 families are still fighting to get their men out.

Any wonder the sky was crying.

We left with heavy hearts, and ventured through the last of our mountain passes.

Winding and braking, and possibly seeing the last of our ice blue roaring rivers, and snow capped mountains.

Surprise surprise, Dad spotted a mob of pigs at our lunch spot. Only happens to him. He and G1 followed them, and got right in close. Evidently they were quiet. Crazy people.

We arrived here at Hanmer Springs, to a truly miserable afternoon.

We had our hearts set (well mum did) on visiting the hot springs. So 7 degrees or not, we all got in our togs, and froze/tippy toe ran our way around the hot springs!

Immersing ourselves in the thermal magic from one pool to the next!

The kids took on a few slides, and while we were thawing out and easing our skiing knees in the magnesium pool, seems we were sharing space with a NZ Survivor contestant!

Once we warmed up and dried off, we had a few drinks at a local pub, and are now cooking up the last of our supplies in yet another camp kitchen!

So sad our trip is winding down, but we’re all looking forward to seeing you, scratching your ears and rubbing your belly!

Your host family may not want to let you go!

Nigh nigh Willow

Love you, love Stan xx