And so the adventure begins….

So something amazing happened this week. Our house sold! Yes, our house in Aldinga where there is exactly 1 billion properties for sale. Yes, our house in a house selling market that is becoming worse and worse with every day. Yes, our house that has been on the market since Christmas!!! And yes, our house that had 2 failed contracts already. We have a contract, we have real buyers and they have unconditional approval from their bank. Thank god for that. I kind of knew it would happen because here’s what happened the week before…20120603-195539.jpg

PB, the Biz and I were outside. The Biz was playing in her cubby. I was mucking around with my veggie patch and PB was walking around pulling out weeds. We got to talking about how nice it actually was in the garden. How quiet it was. How much space there was. And a funny thing happened because we kind of started saying hmmm maybe we do like it here. Maybe if we just saved up and put in a shed. Maybe if we built the brick pizza oven we have always talked about. So we came to a decision. If the house didn’t sell at the up and coming open, then we would take it off the market and stay. I did joke to PB and say now that we’ve made that decision, it will sell. And it did!!!

So as decisions go in our house we are easy come easy go. Even though we had made the decision to stay if it didn’t sell, we were still so amazingly happy and excited that it did sell! And so our next adventure begins…..20120603-195556.jpg

And can I say we are absolutely so excited. We have been looking at houses to buy the whole time our house has been on the market and haven’t quite found ‘the one’ yet. We did have a contract on one place (which we lost) which is still for sale but something has told us it is not the one. Most of the ones we love are more than we can afford (or want to afford). So we have made a decision to rent for at least a year. We will have a relax without the pressure of a humongous mortgage. We will save. We will focus on our coming bubba. We will hopefully come out the end in a better position, able to buy into a higher price bracket without having to have a big mortgage.

So our next challenge is to find and successfully get a rental! I never realised it was so hard. We have always rented off of good ol’ mum and dad and have never had to apply! Just demanded. But both their properties are occupied with great tennants so they aren’t willing to turf them!

So get ready to follow along while things change, hopefully get easier (but knowing us likely harder) and while we begin our path towards our reno home!!!!



This Amazing Man

Well it has been quite some time since I last posted. For those of you who don’t know I am pregnant again and have had some very severe morning sickness. Needless to say, I have had no motivation to post. I’m not out of the woods yet but I have some medication which is giving me a least a little bit of a life back.

Anyway, the main thing that has gotten me through the past 9 weeks is This Amazing Man. I want to tell you about him.

Now as you know, I hate sugar coating things so this post is not about saying PB is a perfect angel. We still butt heads, he does get the grumps on at the drop of a hat and he can be known to be a bit of a shit sometimes. BUT holy shit does this man know how to pull out all the stops when shit hits the fan! Oh yes he does. And this post is about that, celebrating the amazing things he has done for me!


I have an amazing man, his name is PB. For the past 9 weeks …

He has done all washing and cleaning in the house.

He has cooked dinner 98% of the nights. And still tries to find food that I will feel like eating.

He has done the majority of the Biz entertaining, disciplining, changing, bathing and putting to bed.

He has prepared the Biz’ bag every night so I don’t have to do it in the morning when I feel sick.

He has learnt to do the food shopping (something he’s never known how to do) even when i haven’t been able to talk about food to explain to him what to get. And takes the Biz with him so I can rest.

He has taken care of our finances, paying bills, making sure money is in the accounts (something that is usually my domain).

Most importantly though….

He has gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to rub my back while I vomit.

He tells me everyday is one more day I never have to feel this sick again.

He reminds me that this is the last time I have to do this.

He comes in to the bathroom when he can sense I’m not coping and he calms me down till I can breathe again.

He tells me I’m the strongest person he knows.

He tells me he can’t imagine anyone getting through this and still being able to smile.

He tells me he’s proud of me.

And just this morning he tells me when this is over I’m going to buy you a huge present for all you’ve been through

Thank you PB, you are the first thing I’m thankful for in my prayers and the last thing I think about when I fall asleep. You really are
This. Amazing. Man.

The Biz and her first surfing experience

We had a long weekend in Adelaide this week and it was gorgeous weather to top it off. PB of course wanted to get a surf in so the Biz and I came along. PB decided it was high time the Biz had her first experience on the board.

It was such a beautiful thing watching the two of them sharing something I have so many amazing memories of with my dad.

The strongest memory that comes up is dad taking me out in 6 foot waves at age 13 and me being so shit scared I could barely paddle for a wave. I’d like to say that the Biz won’t have that but I’m almost 100% sure PB will take her out in bigger surf at an earlier age while I sit on the beach having kittens!

I always loved it though and felt so special having something that both Dad and me loved. Anyway, the Biz got her official initiation into our surfing family and it was a joy to watch. Made my day!

Fancying it up a little

Woohoo food porn on a Sunday!

Today’s theme is fancying up something that’s not really fancy.

We have had a fair whack of stress going on here in the Jak family lately with a whole heap of wheeling and dealing going on. Nothing solid to report yet but I can tell ya what, if all falls into place things will get a whole lot more interesting on here!

So anyway, I watched Jamie’s 30 minute meals yesterday (I’ve had the cook book for ages but forgot about it) and got to thinking about how his meals aren’t all that hard or out of the ordinary, just normal meals fancied up a bit.

My mum-in-law is a big fancy-uperer. Family dinner can never be boring, there always needs to be something fancy. Even today when I asked for a glass of water she put ice cubes and a slice of lemon in it. Talk about fancy!

So I decided to do an experiment to see if fancying up one of our regular meals would make a difference.
Normally it’s chicken schnitzel with mash and salad. Fancied up however it is herb crumbed chicken with sour cream dressing with smashed potato, buttered corn and salad.

Okay recipe
Make some chicken schnitzels as usual but add some chopped parsley to the breadcrumbs. If I could really be bothered I would have chucked some bread in the kitchen whiz for the crumbs but I couldn’t be bothered.
My hot tip from mum-in-law is put the flour and breadcrumbs in plastic bags so then you can just chuck them in the bin no mess!

Put your potatoes in the saucepan with some water and put it on max. While you are at it start heating up your oven.
Peel your corn and cut it up and put it in your steamer basket ready for once the potatoes are done.
Chop some more parsley and put it in the sour cream tub and then put a squirt of coleslaw dressing or mayo (something sweet) and mix it in the tub.
In an oven dish put some herbs, sea salt and oil. Then put your potatoes in and swill them around to cover. Get a potato masher and gently smash the potatoes. Whack them in your oven. Put the corn on the potato water.
Cook your schnitties.
To serve, put everything in some nice dishes, put some butter or marg on the corn and serve!! I’m figuring you don’t need a recipe for a green salad??




Happy days, happy PB

The Biz loved her corn


And yes, I felt a wee bit fancy!!!


Being the Biz’ mum – the real deal

Hi all and especially mums out there today,

I have been prompted recently to give a full, non-airbrushed, un-sugar coated account on what it is to be a mum, in particular the Biz’ mum. I’m not saying this is every mums account of being a mum, just mine. Sometimes I will sound bitter, but that is real for me because some of the time in the last 15 months of my life I have been bitter. For me this is a post about being real and being imperfect and saying it like it is. I love the Biz more than I could ever have imagined but that doesn’t mean the road was easy.

Big Sis and I have always wanted to write a book which I want to call “Shit people wont tell you about being pregnant/childbirth/being a mum”. This post is basically the theme of what the book would be about ha ha. I was lucky enough to have been told or seen most of this first hand from Big Sis before I had the Biz. Big Sis had one heck of a tough baby for her first and while it was heart breaking to see her struggle, it was a good preparation for me. I still could never have imagined just how tough it would be until it happened.

A bit of a note: I wanted to use swear words to emphasis some points but it kept highlighting them so I don’t want to get in trouble in blog land (not yet sure if you can use profanities). So there are tamed down swear words. You are warned. You are also warned this is a very long post. Sorry but it’s a therapeutic exercise for me so deal with it, HA.

As mums, so much of the time we feel like we need to be perfect. We feel the pressure to sugar coat everything and make it sound like we are super mums. Every question people ask you about your child makes you feel like you need to measure up to some sort of perfect standard. Does she sleep through the night? (No actually she wakes 6 f-ing times a night thank you). Does she say mum yet? (No she says everything else but mum, thanks for kicking me while I’m down). Is she crawling yet? (No she can’t lift her bloody weight off the floor let alone crawl). I felt all this, and still do but I think there needs to be more mums out there telling the truth. What it is actually like to do this because hell people, we deserve the recognition.

In the beginning. It is safe to say that in the real beginning I don’t really remember much. After a troublesome birth (and quite a hectic cocktail of drugs being needed to be given to me) I was pretty much baked for the first day and a half. My ears were ringing, I was itching all over like a junkie and there were people coming in and out and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I think the first night the Biz slept as normal waking for feeds when she needed them. I don’t remember sleeping but I’m sure I got snatches in there.

When the drugs started wearing off, I started becoming more aware of what was going on. It was about now I started feeling fear creeping in. I loved the Biz with all my heart but I had the horrible feeling that I didn’t know what I was doing. I had an absolute gripping fear of “what would I do if  I couldn’t get her to sleep?”. It made me sick to the stomach thinking of what people would think if I couldn’t get my own baby to sleep. I don’t know why the sleep was such a big deal to me but I guess I fell into the trap of caring what people thought and that was the only question they would ask, does she sleep well.

This fear was realised on the second night when despite all that we tried to do, The Biz would not stop screaming. Give her a full feed they said. She had just had one. Wrap her tightly they said. She was wrapped so tight even Houdini couldn’t escape. Rock her back and forth they said. We had been doing it for about half an hour. The most experienced midwife came in to help. She was the sleep master. Babies would fall asleep under her iron hand. She came in and watched me give her another full feed. The she wrapped her tight. Then she rocked her. The screaming remained. She bought in a sound machine. Like absolute heaven it worked, we all sighed a breath of relief. And then the screaming started again. “This baby isn’t going to sleep” she said and commanded me to go to sleep (I hadn’t had a proper sleep in three days) while she took her into their sleeping room. She said they would bring her back in for a feed in three hours. I gave PB a huge hug, we settled into our beds (his on the floor of the hospital room) and I turned over and cried silent tears. My first test as a mum and I had failed miserably. I was her mum, I was meant to be what would comfort her to sleep and I wasn’t able to do it. What was wrong with me.

I got my first kick in the guts when they bought her back into my room 6 hours later (she was a big baby so I don’t think they were concerned about her feeding regularly). They told me she went to sleep in one of their bouncy hammocks and slept soundly there the whole time. Lovely, she didn’t need her mum, she needed a bouncy hammock.

At home – I would love to say that when we got home The Biz’ sleep improved but it didn’t. She was a screamer and did not like being put in her bassinette or pram or any other sleep inducing device. I began to dread her sleep time like I used to dread exams. I would start getting edgy when I knew it was getting near. I would feel absolutely sick to the stomach. What would I do, what would work this time, how long would she scream before she fell asleep and most importantly what was wrong with me. Why didn’t I know exactly what she needed. I would lie in bed at night just waiting for her to wake up. I couldn’t relax because I knew it was inevitable. I remember one night pushing her basinette up and down the house of the bumps in the tiles and getting to my absolute wits end and having no idea what to do. For some reason Jack Johnson came into my head. I put Angel (our wedding song) on my iPhone and placed it next to her tiny little head. Immediate silence. I sat down on the couch and sobbed.

Somewhere in there I was admitted into hospital with a wound breakdown. I think it was stress induced, I don’t think my body could cope with healing, while I was permanently living in fear.

Looking back now, I think that she had reflux or colic I just wouldn’t admit it at the time. Being a dietitian I kind of thought that colic was a bit of a touchy feely excuse for cranky babies. Now I know that it is definitely real! There were so many things that we would discover would get her to sleep and we would be so relieved but they would all only last for a week maximum before she would decide it wasn’t for her. I felt really bad because I was becoming “one of those bitter mums”. People would say “aren’t you just loving being a mum” or “isn’t this just the best job in the world” and my answers most of the time would be “no actually it’s absolute hell”. Then I would feel bad because it sounded like I didn’t love the Biz. I did. So much it hurt sometimes. But every day I felt like I wasn’t good enough for her, I wasn’t doing the right things and I didn’t know what she needed.

Now please don’t think that I was all alone in this.  I’m not that tough. I have wonderful, amazing support. PB was an absolute hero in my life. He was the calming force in the house and would make everything better every time. Big Sis is a seasoned mum and the most supportive, best advice giving person I had (and my sanity constantly reminding me that I would get through it). Mum is also a midwife and a wealth of knowledge (most times and as long as it doesn’t concern nutrition ha ha). I have a huge network of mummy friends too, good friends, cousins, cousin’s wives, and PB’s cousins. All of which have given me support, help and advice throughout this time. Unfortunately (and I know this sounds so very weak and selfish) despite all this support, I felt like I was struggling to keep my head above water.

Sanity came by way of the Baby Bjorn. From about 2 months onwards Issy lived in it. I started to feel like I was regaining control and that I could start to get small parts of my life back. The Biz would drop off to sleep in it while I was doing housework and would stay asleep for a whole 45 minutes. I was in heaven. The downside was that I was constantly standing. By the end of each day I was wrecked.

The Biz was a mummies girl (finally) from then onwards. She would scream if given to other people (save for PB). She would last about a minute with close family and would never have a bar of mother-in-law and especially not Oma (poor thing). Certain people wouldn’t believe me, that she would only stay happy in the Bjorn. I would happily hand her over, watch their smug faces when she was quiet and then apply a smug look to my own face when 30 seconds later she would scream louder and louder until she was given back to me and put back into the Bjorn. PB loved getting his Bjorn on and having Biz cuddle up and sleep on him while he went around the house doing housework (I was crashed out on the couch of course).

If there was one thing going for the Biz it was that she was an amazing feeder. We had difficulty with her latching on as I had super-amazing amounts of milk (Big Sis and mum had many a joke about me donating to a milk bank) but after working out I just needed to express before latching her on (and expressing after too, dear god!!) we had no troubles. I on the other hand would end up covered in milk due to huge flow but we started feeding with a flannel tucked in everywhere and that also got easier. I seemed to produce full cream milk (no seriously it was that full of fat) and the Biz put on weight at a rate of knots. I lost weight fast. The stress, constant feeding, the fat content of my milk, the fact that I was carrying the Biz around 24-7 and that I couldn’t fathom feeding myself meant that I ended up lighter than before I became pregnant. Not trying to brag, just trying to get across the craziness of life at that point.

Things got easier but I still wanted to scratch the eyes out of friends who has kids who just dropped off to sleep un-aided and slept all night. The Biz was bounced to sleep in our arms on a fit ball from about 6 months till about 1-year-old and was still waking a few times a night. Both mine and PBs backs started giving up and I wasn’t coping with being awake all night and being back at work. Something had to give. We decided to give controlled crying a go. I was extremely apprehensive. Mum was flat-out opposed and I felt again like such a failure and a selfish b$#ch resorting to it. Prepped for a tough time with the first go I sent PB out (he wouldn’t cope with her crying to sleep and I couldn’t stand to have him think I was cruel by sticking through her crying so we decided it was best I did it on my own). Much to my absolute relief the Biz only cried for 5 mins the first time when I was allowed to go in, then another 5 and dropped off to sleep. Since then she grizzles most times, cries for a few minutes sometimes and blissfully sometimes goes to sleep without a peep.

The sleeping improved but then as she has gotten older, the Biz has opened a whole new can of worms. Princess bossy-boots is what I’m calling this latest stage and I get worried all the time that things we have done as parents have caused her to not share, chuck tanties and hit. No is her favourite word of course. She also had a whole winter of ear infections which hasn’t helped her mood either.

Big Sis, the lovely workers at her childcare and every other mum I talk to say this is just a stage and just what kids this age do but I constantly get sucked into wondering. I wonder if I was at home with her full-time would she still do this or I wonder if the controlled crying has hardened her into a bitter little girl? I guess thats what being a mum is all about, second-guessing yourself and always feeling guilty! 95% of the time these days I know I’m doing a good job which is much better than the flip side it felt like earlier on.

So thats the end of my blog-horrea. I have emptied my thoughts on this one. The Biz is the most amazing miracle to have ever graced our lives. While the road has been tougher than I could ever have imagined, she is also way more hilarious, gorgeous and loving than I could have imagined. The good far outweighs the bad, that’s for sure, but just thought that if I had have read a post like this back when I was in struggle-town it would have made me feel like I wasn’t the only one and that someone else was scared and self doubting too. If you’ve gotten this far you must be a mum, or wanting to be a mum (or did want to until you read this post).

Comment back if you have your own struggle story, or non-struggle story. Being a mum is different for everyone and different with each new child. Would love to hear your experiences….


2012 Goals

So I was berated by Little Sis for not posting yet this week, even though I posted on Sunday but apparently that counted as last week.

Over at A Beach Cottage, Sarah (blogger extrodinaire and my blog idol) has a little something called Saturday Club Its all about us females taking time out for ourselves, no kids, no household jobs, no guilt. Each week there is a challenge and it’s the perfect excuse to have some time alone.  This weeks challenge was 2012 goals.

So I set myself down with a coffee and some mint bubbly and a notebook ready to write some goals. And yes, I really must get a nicer tea cup and saucer set (as opposed to a mug and side plate ha ha  super trendy I am!!)

One useful thing I’ve learnt being a dietitian is how to come up with goals! A wonderful colleague of mine introduced me to the wheel of life, a way of working out what parts of life you want to work on and what is most important to you. So first I put down the main components of my life: work, home, relationship, friends, The Biz, health-eating, health-physical activity, and stress. I then put a star on the lines to show where I feel I’m “at” for each of these. Right in at the centre is really badly and right out to the outside of the circle is going really well.

As you can see from the pic, there are some areas that are pretty good (work, relationship and the Biz – although I feel like I could do better) and then others that are really crap (stress, house, and physical activity). Some in the middle.

From there you put a second lot of marks for how important these things are to you. For example, house is really bad but its only midway important to me. Friends on the other hand is mid way but it’s super important to me.

So from there I used those to come up with some goals for the next year!

Number 1 – balance what’s important to me better! I love PB and the Biz much more than I can even describe but I don’t think that I balance my life well enough so that they get the attention I wish I could give them. Part of achieving this goal will be being more organised so that I can spend quality time with them rather than running around trying to organise dinner or getting a bag ready for childcare the next day.

Number 2 – make more time to spend with my friends. I have amazing friends and it kills me that months go by and I don’t get to see some of them.

Number 3 – take a chill pill stress head. I come from a family of stress heads, panickers and worriers. Even by our standards I have been stressed to the eyeballs in 2011 and I think it’s time to relax. There are some things that PB and I have sorted out recently so that this is possible and I am going to really try to work on this. A part of this is taking some proper time to do something specific for myself to de-stress. I’m thinking yoga, meditation, even just stretches and learning to let go and bbrreeaatthhheeee.

Number 4 – simplify. Our lives have become such a whirlwind of craziness lately that I really want to just go back to basics and only have things in my life that truly matter. This process has already started with us putting the house on the market as we have realised we don’t need the 5 bedroom house on a 1200 square meter block to be happy. In fact all it did was make us feel overwhelmed. We can be happy with just us. I’m beginning to understand that while having the most trendy and expensive clothes is fun I don’t need it and I’m happier when I don’t have it. I’m sure it will never completely leave me, I love shopping like I love food, but I really think I need to have a reality check, on how it impacts the rest of my life. If we simplify our lifes my hope is that it means less financial obligations which will hopefully in the long run mean less need for working which will mean more time at home with the Biz and more time to do nice things for PB for when he gets home from work!

Number 5 – eat bruised fruit. One of the amazing people I work with EB, is such a considerate person of not just her clients or people she knows, but considerate for the community, the environment and basically the whole world. A while back we had a chat about buying food locally and supporting our South Australian farmers. She is always challenging my consumerism and she asked me why I don’t buy from markets (EB the saint she is, drives to the showground each weekend to buy from a farmers market). Being the young, unworldly girl I am sometimes, said that the fruit at farmers markets annoys me because its got blemishes and bruises on it. She had a good chuckle and then asked me if a blemish or bruise would kill me. No it wont, and it probably wont even bother me when I remember it’s actually how fruit is in the real world. I wouldn’t have surgery to make my body look perfect so why should it matter that fruit I eat doesn’t look perfect? I think we are getting so fooled by Woolies and Coles that the fresh food we eat needs to be manufactured under crazy conditions to look perfect that we’ve actually forgotted what real tomatoes taste like. So my goal is to eat the imperfect fruit from the non big-wig fruit shops or better yet farmers markets, because lifes not about being perfect.

Number 6 – be healthier. No I did not say lose weight, or eat less “junk food”. I said eat healthier. I will still eat chocolate and maccas because I love it but I want more balance. I want to eat more dairy foods so I can stop being perpetually worried about my bones crumbling to dust by the time I’m 55. I don’t think that ever in my life, on one day I have reached my daily calcium requirements so I will try to be better. I want to be more active. Not because I want to lose weight but because I hate that my arms aren’t strong anymore and I can’t bend up and down without my legs burning. I can’t stand that my stomach muscles are literally non existent since they were stretched to oblivion when I was pregnant with Biz. 

So there are my goals! Well the important ones anyway. There were others that popped into my head that I’ve always wanted to do like learn how to make pictures in my flat whites, or see how many blocks of chocolate I can eat without vomiting, but yes the main ones are up there.

Wish me luck!

What are yours???


Hopes go up, hopes go down

Hello again,

We at the jaks house have had a wonderful weekend that has had pretty much constant roller coaster moments.

During the week we had a private inspection and the couple seemed keen (hopes go up) but come Friday no offers were made (hopes go down). We cleaned the house top to bottom for our pre-release open on Sunday and 5 families went through (hopes go up) but again no offers made yet (hopes go down). We went to some opens (hopes go up) but there were hundreds of people at the house I like the most at the moment (hopes down) and PB wasn’t as enthused about it (hopes down). We went into another one that had potential and there was no-one at (hopes up) but then the house STANK and had an asbestos fence (aannnddd back down again). I went to the bank and spoke to the lovely manager there to see what would happen with our loans. We will probably have to pay them out and apply again (hopes wayyyyy down) but our fixed term has lapsed so we wont be up for a mouthful of fees just a medium sized bite (hopes skyrocket). But then after more of a chat and working out what we hope to sell at, our loans now etc etc we will end up with less in our pocket that we had hoped (hopes dowwwnn and I turn into a bit of a strop) but then have a chat with PB and realise it just means we do things slowly and save up as we go which is what we wanted to do anyway and I will learn to be less of a daddy-want-it-now-Veruka-Salt type person which is good for me (hopes maybe back to midway).  We did however have some fun and some inspirations. Details below –

Friday night din-dins

The Biz and I went up to little Sis’ house for dinner and the Biz and her cousin-dog Jerso had a right old time running around together. The first time we realised they could play together and a) Jerso wouldn’t bite the Biz and b) the Biz wouldn’t pull Jerso’s hair.

“Flavours of Europe”

We went to Flavours of Europe Harvest Festival which was fun because it was with Yabby, Miss James and PB’s Dutch cousin visiting. The Biz had a great time and Miss James took her in the baby animal zoo (I can’t bring myself to call it a petting zoo ha ha). 

I had one slight issue with the event though, as my darling bestie put so eloquently “Flavours of Europe my arse” (she is Greek and has a pretty good idea of the flavours of europe!). I should probably tell you at this point I am a proud Euro-wog with Czech and Hungarian background. PB has Dutch and German background. (Good luck for the Biz ever having anything less than the worst temper in the world with that combo). Anyways, the point is we love our Euro background and love our Euro food. The festival was unfortunately not a representation of that. It really should have been called Flavours of McLaren Vale wineries festival which is absolutely fine because yes some of the food was amazing (so amazing PB and I had the same thing twice) but Flavours of Europe, I think not. To us, flavours of Europe translates to humongous Guts-en-fest where we would feast on multiple forms of wog food and leave undoing our top buttons. Hell there wasn’t even a pasta stand!! So we weren’t as impressed as we would have liked to be (hmm hopes down).

New Magazine Inspiration

I have many home magazines that I regularly read (and have to hide and throw into the recycling bin before PB realises). And I recently stumbled across a new magazine that I think I may just want to marry. Actually no, I want to crawl up into it’s pages and live in it. It’s called Australian Coastal Home, and it made me want to cry.

I have a process with magazines. I flick through them first. Then I read through them. Then I go through with a texta and post-its and mark the things I love. Kinda like this..

So after reading this magazine, the post-its looked like this

There is pretty much a post it on every second page! I am going to say something and could possibly lose all interior design credibility if I had any, but it’s edited by a guy called Tim Neve who I have never heard of. I don’t know if he’s well known or not, thats how limited my interior designer knowledge is. But to me it doesn’t matter because I LOVE his stuff. I used to be embarrassed of my coastal design love but here is a whole magazine dedicated to stylish coastal homes so I’m proud to say now I’m a SA mid-coast beachy bogan and I love it ha ha! I just have to start living on the mid-coast now. Here is a link to the magazines website, and no I haven’t been paid for this sales pitch (I wish) And it is very safe to say that this magazine lifted the hopes high (especially seems it came in a pack with two other bonus magazines) and I can’t believe I have to wait until March for the next issue 😦

So that was our week and weekend. Hopefully in the next post there will be progress on the selling front (yeah right). And if you know of anyone looking for a lovely home please send them our way (correction our land agents way ha ha).

Ta ta.