Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Wangling Monday Nights

Last night, being Monday night, we had FHE. And Yes, I am not saying we have the best family home evenings or the most spiritual but sometimes I am just glad that we can have it and get it done to say that we did it, [does that make any sense?!]

Most of the time, because Bastian is so little, we take a lesson from the Nursery Manual. They are simple -have lots of pictures and with a suggested activity it is REALLY easy to have a spiritual well rounded family home evening.

Yesterday- I must admit, I forgot to organise anything! At 4pm I got a call from Kyle telling me he'd forgotten his bank card and couldn't make it home on the petrol he had.

So we jumped in the car and drove out to the highway where there are two petrol stations - (but then as I was heading out of Geelong and he was heading in) we were on the wrong side. So after a little more driving I found a bridge where we could cross over and head back in the right direction.

Anyway, to make a long story short. We finally made it to the petrol station on the right side of the highway and the whole time I was thinking " I haven't organised FHE..eek"

Sometimes, it is best to go with it. On the way back home we dropped in to grab some souvlaki's and then pulled off the highway so we could all eat together - on the back seat of the truck.  Then I said:

"So what should the lesson be on for Family Home Evening tonight Dadda?"

(therefore making it his responsibility.. see how I did that?)

 He said : "The family; a proclamation to the world"

"Excellent." I thought, patting myself on the back for passing the buck.

Treat - tick. Lesson -tick. Activity?

Well, since it was dark by that stage I turned the headlights of my car onto the park which happened to conveniently be located in front of where we had pulled over to eat.

And we had a quick play, in the rain, on the swings... by quick I mean, Two minutes.

Activity- tick.

Phew! Job well done family.

We live to tell the tale of another FHE.

Monday, July 30, 2012

How to say Quinoa

The other night B and I were talking about this delicious salad that Aunty Sandra had made whilst we were doing some of this...

She had made some for dinner and kindly allowed us to share and then take some home! YUM (we love Aunty Sandra)

When B came to visit and we were cooking away [I was preparing another delicious Aunty Sandra donated moroccan lamb curry with fluffy rice bought to you by yours truly- and by prepare I mean re-heating] and she tried some and couldn't believe how delicious the curry was and then I showed her the Quinoa salad and we realised that I cannot say Quinoa!

Even as I type this I am thinking QU- eee- no -aa. Which is most definitely not how you pronounce it but I just cannot remember how to say it properly! Someone help, it is bothering me so much!

Anyway, here is the recipe for the salad. I took a picture of it because it was truly, truly delicious. I have never tasted Quinoa before but I am converted thats for sure!

Also, because B is like the healthiest person I know. We had a conversation (its probably been coming for about 24 years) about how I don't exercise at all.. truly. None.

We decided to go with something low impact and calming (which sounds like my type of exercise) also.. you don't have to wear shoes! SO we are starting YOGA. At Yoga Dojo. I've never been a member at a gym or anywhere really exercise related {apart from that year I did trampolining at PCYC} so Yoga seems like a great way to ease into getting a little more active. Considering its not about loosing weight but just feeling healthier and becoming more flexible .. (remember the leg incident)

So heres to Queenoaa and Yoga.

from like to loke #4

now.. where were we? oh yes...

The language of loke

from like to loke part four.

Read part one here, part two here and part three here.

I am jittery. I am giggly. I am.. I am..


The night before

It was the ball. I had donned an especially beautiful backless number, which of course needed a cardigan to give it sleeves and make it modest. Shame. I have a great back since I put on a little weight.

I am loving this new feeling. I am comfortable. I am happy. I am definitely liked. The day before was delicious. Today I have spent all day, every moment I could squeeze from the last 12 or so hours with Kyle. He is delicious.

Perhaps the sun had made me dotty. My skin is warm and tingly and I don't know if its because I am excited to, hopefully.. probably dance the night away with Kyle. oh Kyle, Kyle, Kyle. Or maybe I have heat stroke.. maybe a little of both.

Is it possible to have like stroke? No matter. I have had a stroke of luck thats for sure.

We are at the buses. Collette and I - we are ready. Waiting to be whisked to our ball destination. I am craning my neck, this way and that. Waiting for him.

We are hurried onto a bus. As I step up onto the bus I see him. In the crowd. Wandering towards us. Damn this bad timing.

We are away and Kyle is left behind to catch another bus.

No matter, we will find each other. I am sure of it.


I am apprehensive about kissing him. A kiss. Its a big thing. It shows we like each other. It shows we are moving forward. Moving on from playing cat and mouse to something new and exciting .. or if he is a bad kisser, moving on from each other. I can't stand bad kissers. 

Too sloppy, too beardy, too intense, too lippy.. no lippy. The list goes on..

I want a just right. I want a perfect fit. I want a forever.


I am wandering through the crowd of people mulling through the building where the ball is to be held. This building. It is big. There is a giant display of a gingerbread town near the entrance way. It makes me hungry. I saunter off to find something to eat.

I bump into people. They are all the wrong people. Not the wrong people per se just not the right people.. not the right person.

We chat and I smile nodding my head up and down in conversations weaving in and out of contact between old friends and new.

The music starts to play.

I feel like I am in constant suspense.

I catch a glimpse of him and I am sure he see's me. I want him to want me. I smile and continue the conversation I am having. I decide to play coy, after all I don't want to seem too eager.

I move towards the dance floor with a group of girls.

We dance around, we dance near each other. I dance away. I slow dance with other guys. He is watching me- politely accept invites and sometimes demanding dance partnerships with old friends and I am sure. I am sure I have captured his attention. 

Suddenly he is behind me, I can feel him. He is close. He grabs my hand spinning me to face him and gives me no choice. He pulls me in and we dance. Apparently he has rhythm when there is music too. I like it. I like him. He never lets go of my hand. Spinning me out and pulling me in, moving me around the floor.

He smells divine.


We have spent every possible moment we could with each other. I feel like I've known him forever. I feel like we all ready have history. Like we have known each other for more than just two and a half days

Tonight is new years. 

We take a walk away from the music down to where the gingerbread town stands tall and scrumptious. I wonder if it would still taste any good after sitting on display for so long. Kyle cheekily dares me to try some. I decline.


I have decided to kiss him. It has been over three full days since I virtuously offered him my cheek. I am jittery. I am giggly. We grab a bottle of Adelaide's finest non-alchoholic wine from the trailer. I am going to wait for the right moment. We stash the bottle in the bushes to collect later. Closer to midnight. Closer to the kiss.

We catch the bus from the ball back to our accommodation. He dutifully waits outside the girls complex while I change and I then wait for him outside the boys complex.

He brings chocolate. I am ecstatic. Chocolate and Kyle.. Its almost too much to handle for one girl.

We talk well into the morning. The sun starts to rise and I feel full. Happy and like forever doesn't seem so far away after all.

I think I am in love... but first there needs to be a kiss.


It is 11:58 pm we have been lolloping around the lawn. Away from the marquee - away from everybody else. 

We have found our own spot to laugh and chat and be with each other. We have collected our secret celebratory drink and have been sharing it between ourselves like a couple of smug 5 year olds.

As the sugar rush subsides we lay on the grass and look at the stars. The bottle placed at our side only half empty. I can feel the heat of his skin as we lie next to each other. The count down from the crowd in the marquee begins. 10..9..8..7..6.. "Kyle?" ..5..4.."Yeah?" He turns his head towards mine so I can smell the sweetness of the sugary drink on his breath 3.. I pull my chin up towards his face so our noses touch 2.. 1 I kiss him. He kisses me back. "Happy New Year" the crowd cries out. Happy New Year, I think in my head.

Friday, July 27, 2012

from like to loke #3

I knew that the mood had shifted because when he left the restaurant he offered a rather brisk goodbye.

I asked him the other night how he felt about the situation and this is what he said (straight from the horses mouth)

"It didn't seem like you were interested so I wasn't going to waste any time. I was interested, but it takes two parties to tango. "

The language of loke

from like to loke part 3

read part one here
read part two here

There was something about this guy. Something about him that made me gloriously happy when we were together, but it also made me feel like I'd been punched in the stomach when he wasn't near me.

It was strange for me to feel such a strong connection to someone in such a short time. I was usually such a guarded person it worried me that if things continued I would be in a position to be hurt if he didn't choose me.

I decided to throw caution to the wind and let events unfold on their own.

Then, lucky for me. Lucky for me and my broken heart the next tram was not at the stop. So we all went for ice-cream & Kyle too.

I smiled politely and hoped he knew that behind that smile was an apology. I'd been rude and I had let all my fears and worries control me. I re-promised myself to relax and be myself.

We sat near enough to see each other on the tram. He was above me and I thought I saw him sneak a few looks. By the time we were back in Adelaide I felt like things would be o.k, I would be o.k. No matter what happened.


I don't know how I got here. I am in my room. I am getting ready to go back down and meet Kyle. It is the end of the day.

Collette and I are chatting about things. By things, I mean Kyle. I ask her if she thinks he likes me. She says she thinks so. She asks me if I like him. I say I think so. I tell her, if I date him then I think I will eventually marry him. So the real question is, am I ready to get married? She asks if I am. I say, maybe.

For someone who weeks before had chosen to be single for a while. For someone who thought that marriage was years in the future, I had done a complete 360. 

I had decided to work really hard at being open and honest. At being myself and always communicating - so that there would be no secrets. Then, and only then, could I know if he liked me for me. Then I could be assured that he really was my forever.

From the moment I walk out the door of our room, he is the only guy at convention I look at. It was always him.


We are in a large room, the same room that was used for registrations earlier that week.

We are chatting on the couch. He looks at me and asks rather suddenly if I would like to dance. I point out there is not music. He says that it doesn't matter and holds out his hand. I pause for a moment contemplating another request from a now, less than stranger. He says "don't you trust me?" and I am taken back to earlier that day. I just about melt all over the floor, again.

How does he do that? How does he make me weak at the knees so easily.

We dance, the room is empty and silent. Only the music of our hearts beating can be heard. It is the only music we need.


We are sitting on some steps. It is late and it is time to go. We are still chatting, enjoying each others company for hours without a gap in conversation.

He leans forward to kiss me and I virtuously turn my head a little to the side and lean in for a cheek kiss and hug. I am laughing inside at his forward confidence.

He likes me.

It is the end of the first day. The end of the first day of forever.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

from like to loke #2

Oh my! Is it really Thursday?

These past few weeks have been going super fast, between organising timber and supplies for Aunty Sandra's new planter boxes and making a wholesale order for the store I don't know where the time has gone.

Today I thought I better finish more from the story of our first day together.

The Language of loke

from like to loke part 2
read part one here

We have made our way to Glenelg. Our adventure around Adelaide has come to an end. It is dinner time. We have selected a table in the alfresco area of a restaurant, one big enough for all of the Tasmanians. We are tight like that. We wait as groups slowly filter in and friends find old friends and new friends to sit with.

Our table fills up with Tasmanian friends. Kyle comes to sit at our table, he brings jugs of lemonade with him. We are happy to welcome him as an honorary Tasmanian. Anyone who offers drinks for the whole table is welcome.

We may be tight but we are also easily bribed. 

I think about the day. I think about how he kissed my wrist. How my shoes gave my heels blisters and Kyle looked high and low for some bandaids - bandaids which he found and then dutifully unwrapped while I placed them on my heels.

I knew I should've worn different shoes.However, for the first time that day - I am glad I didn't.

I am glad because it gave me another chance to be swept off my feet. He seemed to keep doing that - the knight in shining armour routine. 

Things are heading in a direction that is very predictable.

Jess is swept off her feet, Jess is falling, deep. Jess gets scared. Jess self sabotages. Jess leaves, heartbroken.

Many of the relationships I had, could've had. They never even started because I was too terrified I would ruin it. Again.

Many of them ended so badly I still cringe to think about the way I treated them.. 

I had felt I was ruined. Ruined for men. Ruined by men. It hurt to think about what others thought of me. A man eater. How girlfriends soon turned to frenemies when brothers were involved because they thought I was stringing them along and deliberately hurting them. 

My anxiety, the kind which had been rearing its ugly head all day - the one I had been squashing back into its box.

It exploded. The fragile box it was kept in shattering into a million pieces.

I sat away from Kyle at the table. I couldn't bear to be near him- to be associated with him. I felt sick. I wanted to run and bury my head under the covers. It was all wrong, surely my feelings were wrong. I barely knew him.

I had a guy back in Tasmania. One who hoped I'd return and fall back into his arms. But I'd been out of his arms for months. I couldn't understand why he'd called in the weeks leading up to Christmas. I'd just made the decision to spend time. Time on my own. It was so hard. Why were boys so darn difficult to understand.

I frosted over. He could tell. After dinner he made a swift exit.

I watched him, walk out that restaurant door. My heart, my heart it broke in two for a guy I barley knew.Right then and there I knew I would do anything to be with him. Anything to stay with him.

He was my forever.

But my forever had gone.

Its interesting for me to write down all the emotions I had that day. Anyone who knows me, knows I am a very emotional, passionate person. For people who don't know me, they may think the complete opposite. Its funny how things work like that.

Often the most confident people can be the most unsure of themselves within.

It has taken years for me to understand that being an emotional person is not necessarily a bad thing.

I fall in love easily, I sob during adds on the t.v, I get angry and hot headed quickly and I am very head strong. All of these things that I had been trying to hide made me a very angry and unpredictable teenager.

I am still learning to embrace my emotions, but as I do I find even though there are moments where I want to tear out my hair and scream to the mountains. There are also greater moments of passion, love and joy which I missed out on truly enjoying because I was spending too much energy on hiding the 'bad' emotions, which ironically made me unable to feel the good.

My thought process is like a switch. It doesn't take much effort to switch from one extreme to the other but as I learn to accept my emotions greater happiness envelops me.

I can't shake the feeling that it will probably take me the rest of my life to find the peace of middle ground.

read part three here

Monday, July 23, 2012

ask Mummy Gibson

Ask Mummy Gibson

Mummy Gibson with Boy the day he was born.

Where were you born?
I was born in Latrobe Maternity Hospital in Tasmania

What have you been told about your birth story?
I was not told anything about my birth story - I was 5th of 7 children and Mum already had 4 - born in the first 4 years so she was probably too busy.

What is the first  memory you have as a child?
My first memory is sitting in the passage way at Roland - the hall had curtains separating the main rooms from the bedrooms, I was behind the curtains hugging my teddy .
I started school when I was 4 but I remember in that year being home one day because I was sick and there was only Mum and I.  The twins were not born till I was 5.

Where was I born?
You were born in The Queen Victoria Maternity Hospital in Launceston. 

Tell me a bit about my birth story?
I remember it only took 4-5 hours but it was a very hard birth as I was induced so all that time was the final stage of labour.  I was exhausted so I found it difficult to hold you.  I was losing quite a lot of blood so I had to stay in the labour room for several hours afterwards.  I was alone and they bought you in for me to feed, which was fine but they left me alone with you.  I fed you for a while but then I didn't have the strength to hold you and I was really upset and worried because I didn't know what to do - I thought I would drop you.  I tried to lower you back into the cot(I was lying in the bed) and the last few inches you just dropped in.  Then I laid there and cried.  My sister came in and left very quickly again crying because she said I looked like my Mum just before death and she thought I was going to die!!  Dr Roberts-Thomson delivered you - he delivered all my babies.  I had an episiotomy.  You were born 9 lbs. 6 ozs. But lost a lb. within the first week.  I was in the hospital for 10 days. Dr Thomson did not use disposable stitches so I didn't have them out till the 8th day normally - but in your case he couldn't make it and I didn't have them out till the 10th day just before I went home.  I went home on a Sunday and Sister Merle Challis bought us a meal that night as she had seen us arriving home as she went home from church.
By the time we went home you were fairly settled - only took another few days to sleep through the night.  

What is one of the first memories you have of me as a child?
One of my first memories is of Collette being cross with you because you cried and she smacked your arm.   She kept wanting to nurse you.  When you had your baths Lisa, Simone and Collette would fight over who bathed you - I didn't get much of a look in.  You always had 4 mothers plus Dad who also wanted to do everything for you.  I used to be glad when it was feed time as at least I was the only one who could do that!

Thanks for the email Mum! I shall think about my side of the story and reply. x

trucks & pways

Thursday I got my car back from the mechanics. yay! 
(note new mirror)

of course we took a few trips to celebrate the return.

One of them was to the local park. Boy LOVE loves to "pway" and always gets so excited when I tell him we are going to the park.

Then on Saturday we were off to Melbourne to visit Aunty Sandra

We stopped in at Bunnings to grab some more supplies.

Boy also LOVE loves his Dadda's new "truck" and will use any opportunity to sit in the front and pretend to drive.

We are putting in some planter boxes for Aunty Sandra. It has been so nice to see her more over the last week as we have been doing it. (and of course eat all the yummy food she cooks for us!) 

We love to visit her and play at the park which is conveniently located just across the road. 

On the way home from Aunty Sandra's house on Saturday we pulled up to a read light - a blue car pulled up behind us and we were chatting away when we heard a BIG thud.

A silver 4 x4 had hit the back of the blue car - then the blue car hit the back of my car.

Suffice to say, I felt a little silly calling the insurance company for the second time in two weeks. Although we are very grateful that it wasn't us in the middle as the bull bar of the 4x4 completely crumpled the back of the blue car - where as I only have a small crack in the back bumper.

Its all fun and games driving in Victoria.

Friday, July 20, 2012

from like to loke

The language of loke

from like to loke part 1

I am sitting on a table underneath the marquee with one of my most best friends. The air has been hot and sticky this year at convention but it has cooled enough for us to enjoy some time scoping the field of strapping men in front of us. We are chatting away. Rach and I. Laughing and smiling and pointing out who we think is cute, and of course, who we think is not.

Thats one of the things I have always loved about that girl. We have had the same goals, the same loves since we first became great friends in high school.

Rach, Milla & I.
Convention 2008 - 2009

At this point in our lives, the goal ? To snag a strapping lad and have him sweep us off our feet of course! Ever the romantics.

Her sister is talking to a guy who grabs my attention. I ask her if she knows who he is. She tells me they served in the same area on their missions. I am interested. We don't know his name, but I'll never forget the jealousy I felt as her sister chatted away to him.

She seemed to always find it so easy to make friends, to talk and be interesting. I thought I'd never feel at ease in groups of strangers. Never squash the anxiety that always rose when I was talking with people who I didn't know or sometimes even with people I did.

We continued to survey the room and I chose not to worry too much about what others thought of me, or worse what I thought of myself. I chose to just enjoy the week.


On Sunday after the meeting we all went to the hall for a buffet style lunch. I was sitting on the stage with a group of friends. We'd been chatting away with each other, I turned to Rach again and it was like we'd been thinking the same thing. If we wanted to meet new friends then we would need to make ourselves available.

We excused ourselves from the large group we were in and decided to take a walk. We were chatting and walking around the hall but I didn't see him. I didn't see THAT guy.

{later I find out, this round of the hall is when he see's me for the first time. And thinks "she's all right"}

The next time I see him we are placed in groups. As Collette & I walk towards our would be group my breath catches in my throat. HE is in our group. I just about died. Should I have worn a different outfit? I squashed the thought from my mind and convinced myself that I would not care. I would not worry, I would be myself and have fun.

That is exactly what I tried to do, for about 2 minutes before he turned to where Collette & I stood and spoke briefly to us... or was it to me? I couldn't help but feel the conversation was directed at me. Like usual, however, I cowered on the inside panic rising and hid behind Collette's quick and whitty respones. Conversation seemed to always come easily to her as well. Nodding my head occasionally I felt like I was holding my breath for hours before we started to move.

Then we were off on our adventure around Adelaide and I quite forgot my anxiety. His name, was Kyle.

During the day one of our activities (the one pictured below) meant I squeezed myself into a tight spot between two logs.

On the way out I grazed the inside of my wrist.

Kyle came over, and said something like "give me your arm"
Which is a strange request from an almost stranger. I stood for a second, contemplating the request. He said " don't you trust me? give me your arm"

So I did. He took my hand palm up and kissed the graze on the inside of my wrist.

He looked up at me with his long lashes and said "better?"
I just about melted all over the pavement.

Just for that split second there was no one else on that Adelaide street except me and him. 

Him and I.

In that moment he had me - hook, line and sinker.

read part two here

Thursday, July 19, 2012

the language of Loke

Hunna & I are honestly like a really good series of books. {ok, maybe not really good - but a series none the less}  One that may be difficult to understand if you don't read the first chapter.. or chapter 10 (the thrilling cliff hanger plot twisty bit).
The very first picture of us together..
We have our own language, our own natural progression (like that time I talked about the names I've called him) If you don't quite catch the beginning it may be hard to understand the jargon we use towards the middle (considering we are only in the middle..)

The other day I was going through my blogs and realised what poor form I had the year we met & after we got married.. [considering it was the same year] See down the side - in 2009 I only blogged a measely 34 times!! [I know you just looked then] This was, perhaps, due to the fact we were madly in loke and couldn't see past each other.

Anyway, I don't want to forget anything so I am going to start recapping our life.. my life so far. From beginning to end.

So, heres the deal.

I don't know if you've noticed but if I am talking something in the past... I use:

This font.Courier to be exact.

So now you know, If I am about to go all reflective on you. 

I'll do it in courier.

Because, apparently.. reflecting in courier is the new black.

so this post will be very important for you if you want to skip the reflective bits because

A) you don't care
B) you were there and it's nothing new.
(although if you were there.. Mum, Collette, Simone & Lisa - it might be interesting to see my view of the situation)

In-fact it might be more interesting for you because I may decide to recap my teenage years and you could literally gain insight into the crazy mind that was & probably still is mine.

I am hoping, this whole process, of writing myself down, will help me to understand myself better (because lets be honest, even I have trouble with that one) 

" Moments are the molecules that make up eternity"- Neil A. Maxwell

oh joyous joy! 
So, beware, more courier moments to come.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Something Recent

have been updating the blog aesthetics recently. I don't know if you noticed but I switched it a few months ago and turned it into a simpler version of its previous self whilst I figured out what I wanted where. I am by no means a tech savvy html writer but I think I have done fairly well. What do you think?

Recently we got out our paints and brushes to create some 2 year old masterpieces.

I think these ones will be going in the scrap book to keep.


Then: We jetted off in Hunna's new car to Sassafras to visit the toy store (of course!) and the lolly shop.

Here is what Hunna posted on his fb for the day. [don't ask me why he decided to take a shovel out to pose with.]

Photo: Road tripping with my two favourite allies. Fully loaded, we've got snacks and supplies.. It's time to leave this town.

Lately, with his new job, I have been missing Hunna - in a "I miss him" pouty way. I had been getting selfishly spoilt, I think. Having him around most the time. And by around,  I mean: close enough to visit him at lunch time if I was missing him. {pretending to drop off snacks and lunch like a good wifey)

Now he is in Melbourne { and my car is at the mechanics } and even if it weren't I still couldn't/wouldn't drive out there to drop in twice a week during the day.

So instead I call him. To get my fix. And the conversation goes a little like this...

Hunna "Hello?" 
Me "Hello!'
Hunna "Do you need something"
Me  "No. I just wanted to talk"
Hunna "Ok, what do you want to talk about"
Me "Ahm,  Boy is asleep now"
Hunna "Thats nice"
Me "mmm"
Hunna " Is that all ?"
Me "Yeah.. I think so"
Hunna "Ok, Love you"
Me " Love you more"

 poor Hunna. haha!

When he's not here, when we aren't close. I miss him terribly and its been that way whenever we were apart, since the very first day we met. Could somebody please tell me if there was a job he could have that would mean I could spend a good hour with him in the middle of the day. (of course, not one where we would be together all the time - I could see myself pulling my hair out over that.)

sigh..absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Remember that time you nearly died?

Remember that time you nearly died? For the second time...

The first time: (I was surprised to see I hadn't blogged about it when I went to find a link)

It was my birthday (the year before last, they generally happen every year like that) Kyle took me horse riding on a horse trail, for my birthday - with an instructor.

We each had our own horse, since I had the least experience I got the "docile" horse.

We were taught how to "steer" how to "stop" how to "go". Pull this, poke this, yank this way. But I was also told that the horses went on the trail so often that they generally just followed the leader and did whatever the horse the instructor was on (at the front) was doing.

We started off and the ride was.. horsey ? Well it wasn't smooth but I wouldn't say it was super bumpy either.. better than riding an elephant and I suppose (since I've never ridden one) better than riding a camel too. (although please correct me if you've ridden a camel and feel the ride is smoother than riding a horse)

We clip clopped along a dusty trail through the outback (by outback I mean bush, by bush I mean someones trail in their rather large 100 acre sized back yard) and came to a cool pondy/watery bit. The instructors horse in the lead clip clopped past and Kyles horse in the middle followed the lead. My horse, stopped for a drink of fresh spring water.. for a while. The whole time me yanking this way and that and the instructor telling me how to get it going again.Eventually (after much persuasion which probably did not persuade it at all) it began following, taking up the rear once more.

It would stop occasionally when it wasn't suppose to after that and the instructor would tell me to do this and that to make it move (riding a horse is really NOT like driving a car.. when you push the accelerator the car generally listens and lurches forward)

On the way back the instructors horse clip clopped over a sandy patch of trail and Kyle's horse in the middle did the same. 

However, my horse stopped. As I felt it shudder underneath me I knew that I was sitting on a sinking ship. It hit the sand and I jerked my left leg out of the stirrup, then the horse rolled sideways to the right giving itself a good sand bath but with my right leg still in the stirrup, still underneath the horse. I had a wild flash of a cowboy rising triumphantly still on the horse after it had fallen sideways as Indians shot arrows from behind.

Then in a split second realising this was an incredibly stupid idea decided to make sure my right foot was NOT in that stirrup as the horse arose (now seeing flashes of people being lynched behind horses) And it was lucky indeed that as the horse rose, the adrenalin pumping through my veins, that time slowed and as it happened the stirrup wasn't twisted and that I could easily guide my foot out because the next second it had bolted down the trail.

Leaving me lying sideways in the sand and all before the instructor had time to even turn around and see.

See I tell you, that was near death one. (literally, no exaggeration)

This was near death two: (literally, no exaggeration)

On Monday after I dropped Boy off at daycare I decided to take a trip to your friendly neighbourhood Costco (ours happens to be at the docklands in the city). I made it to the Werribbe exit without an ounce of trouble and saw up ahead traffic slowing. We all had to move to the far lane (the over taking lane) and snail pace past a cow (which had obviously made its way to the freeway from a nearby field and had been hit by a truck) As I drove closer it was flailing in the middle of the road - that was until a police officer with a shot gun hit it squarely over the temple and suddenly it was still..

Shocking, I know, they could've at least held sheets up or something.

Anyhow, I continued, drove over the bridge and the lanes which say 1E, 2E, 3E, 4E, 5E and made it to Costco. Then, after a successful shopping trip headed home. Back over the Westgate Bridge. This time the lane reading 2W..

"huh" I think "the other lanes said E." And then I figured it out. OH! I'm in lane 2 heading West. If I was on the other side of the bridge I would be heading East. (patting myself on the back for being so clever)

Suddenly, almost at the top, I see a white freight liner in my drivers side rear vision mirror -coming up behind me. Clearly speeding and clearly about to cross from 3W to 2W. I have a split second to get the very left of my lane (as there was a car in 1W) so I managed to move left slightly, only about 20cm before the truck contacted with the side of my car and suddenly my rear vision mirror was gone and all I could see were dirty big truck wheels and all I could hear was the sound of truck brakes. It was over in a second and he was going so fast that I honestly thought he was going to keep on driving but he then pulled into 1W and pulled up, stopping completely and I indicated and parked in front of him (as there was a line-up of newly stopped cars behind him) I backed up real close to the front of his truck so that I wouldn't be hit again and the whole time was thinking "this is so dangerous, we shouldn't be stopped on the bridge" as cars continued to zoom past.

I waited for him to get out of his truck and come to me (at which point I was going to tell him we needed to get off the bridge) but he exited the truck and instead of going to the front walked down to the back.

I was perplexed and got out of the car. Took a snap of his license plate with my phone and edged my way down (on the side of the truck closest the the barrier NOT the other lanes of traffic) when I'd walked past two MASSIVE freight containers attached to the back of the truck I came out the other end to see the truck driver at the window of another car stopped behind him. Yelling. He caught a glimpse of me and yelled "I nearly killed that lady!! (swearing ensued)" The driver of the car was young, he was showing the truck driver his license which I gathered from what the driver was yelling meant he was on his P's and they were not displayed (thinking to myself) honestly, I was nearly crushed/flipped and decapitated and all you can do is whinge about this guy not displaying his P plates? The truck driver then yelled out to me saying that "it was this guys fault" and "he cut me off you should get his details"

I hadn't seen anything apart from my mirror being torn from my car but for good measure I snapped a pick of the other drivers number plate and as I did he snatched back his license and wound up his window. Then he turned the wheel and the truck driver jumped from the drivers side window to the front of the car to stop him from driving away, the young guy kept driving. Picking the truck driver up onto his bonnet and carrying/pushing him into on coming traffic.

I jumped back between the truck and the barrier and as I did, I dialled 000. My first ever emergency call. Not knowing if I would need an ambulance or the police. I just dialled. Thinking, how the hell am I suppose to handle this situation if this truckie guy gets run over.

"Hello, police fire or ambulane"

"Ahm,  I need the police - I may need an ambulance"

"Ambulance or police Maam"

I saw the truck driver between the gap of his freight containers. Walking back towards the front.

"Police please"

"I'm putting you through now"

I get to the gap between the front of my car and his. He must've matched my pace and emerges at the same time.

"We need to get off, We will take Williamstown exit"

I nod. I get in my car.

"Hello, ..." (he says something I cant hear as I close the door)

"Yes, I am on the Westgate bridge, there has been an accident"

"Is anyone hurt"

"No I don't think so"

"Are you outbound or inbound"

(me thinking lucky I figured THIS out 5 minutes earlier)

"We are heading west"

"So, outbound?"

"Yes, outbound"

"Is traffic hindered"

"Yes we are stopped in the far left lane but we want to move to the Williamstown exit, is that ok?"

(I asked so that I wouldn't get in trouble for speaking on my phone while driving)

"Yes that is ok"

Then the conversation followed things like, how many cars, is there any spilled petrol on the bridge etc..

By then I had pulled off the bridge and the truck followed. As I pulled over to a safe place on the exit ramp the Vic roads guy turned up with his flashing arrow and parked behind the truck.

The truck driver was at my window as I hung up. I open it and ask if he is ok. He says he is, just a few sore ribs. The Vic Roads guy then makes his way over and the truck driver starts going on about how he was hit by an idiot (understatement). The Vic Roads man asks if we want the police to attend, I say I have all ready called.

I get out of the car and we go over to the grass off to the side. The police turn up as we get onto the grass (very prompt if you ask me, also someone must've given excellent directions if you ask me)

The next 30 minutes is statements and giving information (and breath tests) to the police so that they can place a traffic incident report.

The constable takes pictures of my car.

The policewoman mentions how lucky I was.

I get the truck drivers information from his license and head home.

I do not properly survey the damage until I am home, and then I agree with the policewoman. I was very lucky and I am glad Boy was in daycare.

(The scratch under my door handle is from the bull bar at the front of the truck, the scuff marks from the tyres rubbing against my door.. and of course my mirror is gone.)

I don't know if the other guy cut the truck driver off. I just think it was a pretty dumb idea to pick him up on the bonnet and drive him into traffic.

who does that?