Memphis!

Just when my body clock was reacclimating to North American time, I was off to Memphis - to see my grandpa, Bobelepie, Aunty Roosie and a whole lotta friends. More on this soon... I'm falling asleep at the keyboard...

Home again, home again

25 hours (tail winds), 8 bottles of milk, 4 jars of porridge and carrot mash, 9 diapers, and 2 outfit changes later, I'm home. And I slept even less on my journey home from Australia than I did on the way over. Who knew it was possible? 45 minutes of shut-eye from Melbourne to LAX. And I didn't cry a peep.

To avoid repeat episodes of sleeplessness on the way over, shortly after take-off my parents applied some homeopathic remedy (mildly alcoholic) to try to get me to doze off. When they saw no immediate results, they took it upon themselves to double the dosage. All it did was end up getting me drunk (fools), which was readily apparent by my slurred speech and unusually wobbly crawl at the back of the plane. My buzz must've made me less inhibited though, as I made a whole bunch of friends with fellow travelers. One woman was so taken by me, she took me right out of my mom's arms and started showing me off to her family and friends on the plane.

And then, the most remarkable thing happened. Amidst all the hullaballoo, chatting it up with her friends and family, my dummy (er, pacifier for the Americans) flew out of my mouth, and who was there to retrieve it and give it back to me? None other than my cougar friend Jessica! (see post immediately below) We had a fun, surprise reunion on the way home and exchanged tales from our respective holidays. She said she recognized the dummy from the plane ride over and was hoping it belonged to me. Smart girl.

Below, highlights from travel - including the lovely folks at Qantas and my reunion with Jessica.

My Time Down Under

I can hardly believe it. Just as I'm getting used to this topsy-turvy-upside-down world, where whirlpools move counter-clockwise and people drive on the wrong side of the street, it's time to pack up and go home. My days have been so jam-packed in Aussieland, I hardly know where to begin. So here's a quick lowdown of the highlights:

First, I traveled the farthest I've ever, ever gone in my whole life. There we were, for 27 hours, stuck inside a flying capsule (this one sponsored by the lovely folks at Qantas) crossing the furthest stretches of the earth. That's right, 27 hours in the air. And I slept for 2 (two) of them. Even more remarkable, I didn't cry a peep. Just a lot of chatting with fellow weary travelers, all of whom I charmed... Especially my new friend Jessica. About 10 years my senior, I guess she's what you'd call a cougar. We were quite taken with each other. She even drew me a picture which she gave to me at the end of the flight (included below). And when my parents were about to collapse from exhaustion about 20 hours into our journey, the lovely Qantas flight attendants took me for a walk and played with me so they could catch some shut-eye. Really top notch service, I'd say.

Once we landed, all my Aussie kin - who attended my virtual bris and have been following my blog ever since - had a chance to meet me face-to-face. A thrill for all of us. On top of reuniting with Auntie Donna, Buba and Zede, I met Cousin Riley, Cousin Willow, Cousins Lexie and Cleo, Cousins Jackie and Adie, Becky and Colin, Simon, Katie, Jeannie, Greg, Auntie Bella and Uncle Peter, Soniala and Uncle Boris, and of course, my favorite skyping mate, Big Buba (all featured below). And that's just the inner-circle - to say nothing of all my dad's childhood friends and my grandparents nearest and dearest, including even my mom's oldest friends from Memphis living in Melbourne for the year - Anabelle, Silas, Hannah and Sam. As you can imagine, I was 'on' just about every waking moment, which had me knackered for nap times and sleeping wonderfully long stretches.

I got into a routine straightaway, far quicker than my parents, who seem set in their ways. I adapted to organic porridge, pears and custard and grew quite addicted to my Bube's matzah ball soup. In fact, I'd say with the exception of Vegemite, I've grown exceptionally fond of Aussie cuisine in general. Their avocados are ripe to perfection, and the eggs are noticeably farm-fresh and light (with yolks exuding a warm-orange glow).

I got so comfortable with my Aussie kin that my parents entrusted me to them for two whole days while they went on a getaway to the Australian countryside. When they came back, I showed them my wacky new raspberry skills.

Thanks to a whole bunch of super generous people, I also built up my Aussie book collection (attn Park Slope neighbors: I'm establishing an Aussie lending library to share Australian lore with those interested in learning about this fascinating upside-down culture and far-away place.) Included in this collection are 9 new books on wombats, which seem to be all the rage right now.

Oh, and in addition to packing on the kilos and picking up an Aussie accent (subtle, but there), I sprouted my first two teeth.

I'll stop now before I get all v'klempt with nostaglia. See photos below - too many to count - of me and all my Aussie mates and relatives.