My First Visit Back Home

     A minor miracle happened recently.  On his way to a backpacking sojourn in India & Burma, Kev more than suggested I visit my mother and friends.  He gave me a plane ticket for a three-week, multiple-city trip to the land I grew up in.
     It had been five years since I had last been in the U.S. before moving to OZ.  Which cliche would describe the visit? "You can't go home again" , "Stranger in a familiar place" or (dare to dream) "The Homecoming"?  Would people be glad to see me? Or even remember me?  Would I get the all-important shopping done? (Heaven knows EVERYTHING is cheaper in the U.S.  Plus,  with superior fits in clothing, it doesn't make sense not to stock up.) Did I bring enough money?  Will I survive a dozen airport  experiences in one vacation? Will I remember how to drive on the right hand side of the road in the left side of the car...in the snow?
     For all the questions that seemed to beg for trouble, very few eventuated.  Armed with a file folder, four payment methods, three shopping lists, two date calendars and a disposable phone (decorated with a partridge in a pear tree, fa la la la la la) I was ready for full military-style engagement. Provision, briefing, execution and debrief.   Ooo rah.
     My first week was spent with Mom.  Sort of.  This was valuable Asset Acquisition time.  Pre-emptive strikes on hair care products and cosmetics had to be made. Thanks for the driving lessons, Mom, see you at suppertime!  No amount of torture or truth serum will get me to spill the exact amount of money spent during those early heady days of frenetic consumerism.
     On to Orlando and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  Magical in mid-winter.  The temperatures are decent, there are no crowds or long lines for attractions.  WWHP looks just like the movie set, Butterbeer and Hog's Breath Ale are yummy, the simulated Hogwarts castle tour does not disappoint and,  serious frosting on top of all of this, I had two friends from the Frozen North to share it with.
     Ivy, veterinarian extraordinaire, met us at the notable Tu Tu Tango Cafe.  My maid  man of honor, Tom, and I took in the Universal holdings.  He is now much more  aware of Harry Potter & Co than he was before.  We stayed at a hotel owned by the Jicarilla Apache Nation.  A hotel in Orlando? Now there is a license to print money.  I'm holding off a slew of scalping jokes here, people.
    The Frozen North.  Eight days of the most tightly choreographed maneuvers outside the Edinburgh Tattoo.  Insured to the hilt against any evil force of nature or man, this marathon started with a dinner party at my younger sister's house.  A pleasant evening with relatives that featured the first of many discussions about healthcare and national health services. I never could get a street-level description of "Obamacare" from my friends (who range from ardent supporters to those who won't speak the president's name) but with so much to share and so little time...   God bless my uncle and his endless supply of Cornish pasties, real dill pickles and Vernors pop. It hardly gets more home than that. I would drive three days to see my father's younger brother -  with or without the soul food.
    Ohio, where it all went into hyper drive.  Kit, my friend and hostess, took time out from her vintage clothing and costume shop, The Alley (now also purveyors of genuine Australian made fashions), to help reacquaint me with Columbus and whittle down my clothing shopping lists - who else could sniff out half-price day at a particular thrift store or 83% off a fabulous silk taffeta party dress? And then the days looked like this: 1p luncheon with Dottie & Susan, 3:30p Jean, 5pm drinks with Mike & Marc, 6:30p dinner with Dave. Next day: 10a VoiceCorps, 11:30 with Ken @ Lindeys, 2p Tea with Worthington Women's Club, 5p with Sally &  crew, 6:30p supper with elusive Stick & Rick. Last day: Tim, JoAnn and then Eddie [read: Tim Horton's for breakfast, JoAnn Fabrics because who doesn't stop at fabric stores on vacation and Eddie Bauer Salvage/Warehouse sale.]   All visits were too short, of course, and overwhelming. I could not have imagined so warm a welcome. 
     More humbling was the return to Los Angeles before heading back to Perth.  My eldest brother Peter flew in from Houston and my uncle in Las Vegas drove in to see me.  Really, to see me? I was feeling very unwell for the last few days but tried to suck it up for this mini reunion and trip to  the famous Santa Anita Race Track. A former sports reporter with horse racing as his beat, Peter proved to be an excellent guide at Santa Anita. "That's Gary Stephens, he played George Wolfe in Seabiscuit.  Now that guy is a famous horse trainer, trained a bazillion Kentucky Derby winners.  Is that musician Herb Alpert looking like a slob next to that fine horse?"  Only a visit to some quack at an Urgent Care center (I couldn't fly feeling that bad) could cast a pall on those final days.

     So to answer some of the questions at the beginning: Not everything is cheaper in the U.S.  Sea salt is a veritable bargain in OZ. So for all your culinary marine saline needs, load up on your next visit Down Under. Driving only became a problem in parking lots.  I think I still have $1.75 left from all that retail therapy.  No, airports will never be my friends- I don't care how fancy they are in the inner sanctum, and Detroit's airport is pretty flash.

    And finally, the theme of my vacation - in the words of George Gershwin : " 'S Wonderful. 'S Marvelous. That you should care for me."

[Yes, photos are available, just not here and now. Getting the story out now, will add art later.]

So THIS is a normal Christmas!

   For most of my adult life, I have been "away" from home...and usually working...on Christmas Day. In fact, the few times I wasn't clocking in on the 25th felt so odd I wasn't sure what to do with myself.  This is why I don't share some of the common unhappiness experienced by people who aren't living the Norman Rockwell illustrated life.  My complaint as of late is about the oppressive hot weather rather than loneliness in the face of merrymaking.
   But my last couple of years have been completely different.  Kevin's brother, Brian, lives in the area and since the birth of his son Natie has become "more normal" himself.  You know, doing "normal" things especially when it comes to holidays instead of just drinking beer with buddies.  So this is how  my holidays have become normal, also.    It's become a tradition that Kev and I will meet up with Brian, Donna and son for brunch and cracker pulling.  Imagine, how utterly normal to have pancakes (with REAL Canadian maple syrup!) , eggs and fruit  with people you know and like--even related to.  It boggles the mind.  

Assembling Natie's Toy

   I must say it was quite fun watching watching the assembly of Natie's big toy, a parking garage. Not only does it have lots of ramps, it has an air traffic control tower and a helicopter landing pad.  A really odd mix unless an adjunct kit has an airport complete with x-ray machines, Customs inspectors and airline food service delivery trucks.
  As it was quite warm today [ 38C/102F ] we couldn't wait to do something very Australian for the day- go swimming. Not in the ocean, but in our property's pool.  No one else was around.  Only then, at 3 p.m., did we bother to open presents. Who knew Australian Monopoly had a surfboard and jar of Vegemite as player pieces?  Big find of the day for Kev-- even bigger than the new vacuum cleaner he received -- were the advertising circulars my mom used to pad her package. Away from the US for several years now, he had forgotten the prices of groceries and now marvelled: "Well, bread is the same price here. What, you pay how little for beef and booze?  I'm taking this in to show at work!" Trust Mom to get the right thing for Kev.
   Completely missed some favored Christmas movies on TV for all this hoopla, but I must say this 'normal' Christmas thing isn't a bad alternative to being away from home and out of touch.
    Merry Christmas .  Happy 2011. 

My First Visitor

     Recently I received an email that stated someone I know would be in Sydney on business. It's an email I've received before, usually with a request added for me to hop over for a visit. I don't get excited about these requests, Perth is as far from Sydney as San Diego is from Boston. But my recent email was different. It was from my older sister Anne--who offered to come to Perth for a visit.  My first visitor!

Anne at King's Park

      She was only going to be in town for four (4) days.  Hmmmm, kind of made it difficult to fit in all four weeks worth of activities I planned along with a few sights she hoped to see.  If we left out all extraneous chat [it's only been nine years since I've seen her last. What's to talk about?]  I figure we could cover about 1% of Western Australia. You know, just the highlights.

'Roo at Yanchep Nat'l Park

     Kev was a good egg. He took a day off work to drive us to the Indian Ocean (EVERY visitor to WA should at least dip their feet into the Indian Ocean  and, if they can manage it, into the Southern Ocean as well)  and ,  quite importantly, through the Swan Valley so Annie and I could winery hop.  Hey, someone had to drive! We saw emu and kangaroo really close up in the bush and  koalas in a protected environment.  This is ticking off a major wildlife box, let me tell you.

Two sisters at the Pinnacles

    Well, all this tippling and animal chasing landed us in prison.  Fremantle Prison, that is.  Convict made in the 1850s and decommissioned in 1991, it's an excellent tour of the housing of..ahem... early settlers.  Can't believe they used slop buckets until the day it closed! We didn't see Fremantle in its entirety.  Both Annie and I are "on island time" except that my island is significantly bigger than hers (she lives in South Korea) and we keep a faster pace in order to cover more ground here in expansive WA.  Annie was more likely to stroll. So the car figured heavily in the plans to.....

    ...the Pinnacles.  Looks like rocks growing out of the ground. A natural phenomenon in some form in lots of countries.  Naturally, WAs are more unique than others so it is a must see.  Also a wander through the magnificent King's Park.

Polish food--smaczne!

     A "must do"  for a Westerner living in Asia when visiting other countries is eat foods you can't get at home.  Pub grub,  real Italian food and, oh my, Polish cuisine at Rembrandt's-Perth's only Polish restaurant.  [why "Rembrandt's"? The expensive artwork was already on the windows and interior when the new tenants moved in and they decided to just keep it.]  We met up with Kev's brother & family, ate too much (naturally) and had a good time.

   A list of all we missed would be extensive. Four days is simply not long enough for a thorough investigation of this area.  But it was a pleasure to host my sister for that time.  And now that we've figured out how to work the air mattress (unfolds to queen size or can stay a single) we are ready to host others.   WHO'S NEXT?!