2nd December 2016

OK, I won’t spack out – we’re only in week one!

Frayed nerves – my quest for the perfect holiday combined with the fact I had booked everything, therefore I feel full responsibility.  Husband wanting us to be safe and me not to lift boxes (stop being a hero – if it’s too heavy ask for help – not one of my strong points – I am an indestructible, independent female who WILL lift her own boxes – then pull a muscle and feel like a complete tit – tit credit to Miss Irish – it’s my new favourite term.)  Enter – children and Husband on massage duty on the left chicken wing.  But all is well, I need to surrender the ego and just ask for help.  And now I have to – we are in Porcupine Gorge for two days – no reception, no other humans, no masseuse and no ego (and I can walk around butt naked!!)  And with sunsets like this (no filter BTW)  you just have to go with it.

Thunderstorms raged around us – Husband and Miss 12 set up their camera tripods in an attempt to outdo each other with the perfect lightning shot.  Much ego nutso. But a great, cool night in the tents followed by a competitive game of Scattegories the next day while it pissed down was the perfect prelude to the 3 kilometre hike into the Gorge and back in the afternoon.   Miss 10 counted 610 steps back up the Gorge to the camp site – little troopers – Miss T, Miss A and Miss N – the Bump has didly shit on this one!  We were sweating – praise the Lord for the Outback Shower – the truck has a 100 litre water tank and a little shower head – three chicks, a poofy thing that makes soap go further and a bar of soap.  Nothing more liberating that being starkers in the middle of bum fuck nowhere and whooping about it!  It was worth it – the gorge was amazeballs.

So – that pesky, patriarchal possum …

Mrs Possum and her bubba had invaded camp both nights in Porcupine Gorge – and as we are tree huggers we were not interested in feeding her.  Alas, those who had come before us had obviously thought she was cute and deserved a little treat – fucktards –and fed her as she was so incredibly tame she had no problem coming right up to us.  Night two in the camp brought the same behaviour with the same rebuff, and as Miss 10 and I retreated to our tents, we thought a quiet drift off to sleep with a cool breeze was sensational – UNITL – HISS HISS HISS – WTF????  Mr Possum had entered camp and was obviously highly PO’d Mrs Possum had not brought home the bacon in two days.  Patriarchal bugger – MAKE YOUR OWN FUCKING DINNER YOU PATRIARCHAL SHIT HEAD!!!!  The woman is carrying a baby and all you can do is hiss at her – how does fuck off sound?

To add insult to injury, a midnight pee – which is supposed to be nice and peaceful under the glow of the Milky Way – results in a Pademelon hopping straight up to me, squatted most unladylike whizzing away cooing “hello darling, what do you want?”  HISS HISS – the bastard is hissing at me wanting food!!!  Well sorry love, all I have is wee and a baby wipe and Pademelon is not happy.  HISS HISS – PISS OFF!  I swear it was going to rip my face off.