We are very, very lucky. In 1978 my dad and grandpa bought a house on the Sunshine Coast. So since I was a kid, the summer holidays have been a relocation of home.
I approach it every year with a sentimental glow of anticipation.
I can work wherever I am so we head off for weeks at a time.
No packing lunches! Stay in bed until it’s so hot you get up for a swim! Let’s have sausages in bread for dinner!
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by Telstra. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words.
It’s going to be so great, I tell the kids. Long, lazy days of table tennis and beach cricket. I shall serve watermelon slices and it will be like those summer holidays they show in old-fashioned cordial commercials.
That’s week one.
By week two or three, especially if the weather turns sour (no dryer, no dishwasher, dodgy TV reception) I’m whistling a different tune. It sounds a bit like the theme from Prisoner. On the inside the roses grow. Except there are no roses in this beach house. Instead, there are:
• 1,200 x Barbecue Shapes packets (empty).
• Squashed sultanas (innumerable).
• 24,000 broken or blunt coloured pencils.
• 2 x functional pens (whereabouts unknown).
• 7 x pairs of wet swimmers.
• 8 x bottles of sunscreen (each containing less than 5mls of sunscreen).
• Many DVD boxes.
• Not quite as many DVDs.
• 9 x pairs of goggles (none of which are comfortable).
• 6 x hats I have not purchased/been given/ever seen before.
• Enough Nerf gun parts to take on North Korea.
• 2 x iPads (uncharged)
• 2 x iPod touches (uncharged)
• 6 x iDevice chargers (missing)