Men, Women, and Directions

Taking and following directions whilst driving is a real problem in our household.

When we are in the car together, CP and I are a formidable team. I am an ace when it comes to giving directions, reading maps and following instructions (slash, giving instructions). Ie. I am bossy. CP is more comfortable at the driving side of things, and is a better listener when we are in the car. Ie. He knows better than to argue with me.

CP prefers country driving. He considers himself both a driver and passenger, simultaneously. On more than one occasion I have been heard screaming 'DRIVER OR PASSENGER! BUT NOT BOTH!' I, on the other hand, prefer city driving. I don't like to toot my own horn, (okay, so sometimes I do), but I am good at navigating and driving. To prove the point, I have thus far refrained from purchasing a Navman or equivalent. Plus, it would just be downright silly for us to buy one, given that we spend 99% of our road time travelling on a road that would have the Navman saying "Turn right in 30m and head straight for 100km." I figure the old 'Google Maps' app on my iPhone should be more than capable of getting us out of a fix for the other 1% of our driving time. Having said that, CP can't work an iPhone, so the navigating and driving is often all on my shoulders as soon as we leave Toowoomba.

Directions aren't only a weak point for CP. I've spent nine years living on a farm that I am still known to get lost on. I have drawn up new and improved maps over the years, and have a ballpark idea where most things on the farm are, but when CP says 'Can you come and pick me up from the water trough in the such and such paddock?' there is still that moment where I suck my breath in sharply and feel the rapid beat of my heart quicken to a shrill staccato!

Many moons ago, I heard the slightly panicked voice of my mother in law over the two way radio. I was the only person left at home at the time.
"Are you on channel Jessie?" I rushed to the receiver.
"Yes!"
"Oh good. Jessie... {your father in law} and I are out in the lane way. We're just west of the sorghum, and we have two flat tyres. Would you be able to come and get us?"
"Ummm...." A long pause... "Yes..."
"Okay." There was still an unconvinced, slightly concerned, tone in my mother in law's voice. "Do you know how to get here?"
Again, the quickened heart beat. "Ahhh... I think so. I've been there with CP before." (In the winter, when the sorghum hadn't grown and the grass was dry. I had a huge job ahead of me, finding my way amongst paddock upon paddock of long, green grass and sorghum, tall and thick surrounding me. I didn't really have a choice. I had been there with CP before. I only knew one way to get there and I'm sure it was 'the long cut'. I hoped my on laws weren't in any great hurry.
"I'll be there soon!"
"Thanks Jessie..."

As I headed out in to the first of many paddocks, I realised how utterly futile this was going to be. I drove past the first shearers quarters, and then the shearing shed. I opened several gates, and wound my way through a myriad of green fields. Kangaroos jumped haphazardly around me. Emus scattered as I meandered around them. I had found the sorghum and knew I was close. After a good 15 minutes of driving, I heard the two way crack into life again.

"Jessie. We can see you! We're west of you, south along the fence line." Was that relief in her voice?
"Okay... So..."
"The gate is just west of you." Yes, but I still had no idea which way west was. I took a wild guess that it was in front of me. Thankfully it paid off, and in seconds I had located their vehicle and was making my way along the fence line.

Once we were all safely back in my own vehicle, the questions started. I justified my slow response by asking for a map of the farm for future emergencies. My in laws were sincerely grateful that I was able to assist them at all. I felt nothing but relief.

CP and I both have our moments when it comes to directions. I suppose it comes down to being in our comfort zones. In any event, the decision to buy an automatic car has proven to be a raging success. Because even worse than a driver who is lost, is a driver who is lost and in control of a heavy vehicle.

Do you have a DRIVING FAIL or a DIRECTION FAIL moment?

Driving Home From Book Club This Week: A True Story Of Jess And A Pig

There are so many posts I want to do on Book Club. It is one of my favourite things to do. We meet once a month to discus a book. At least that's what it is in theory...

We are a group of between 10 and 15 women who live and work locally. We are a mixed bag, aged between 23 and over 40. We are married, engaged, dating and single. We are mum's and we aren't mums. We are all shapes and sizes and backgrounds. We have different beliefs. Some of us work together. Some had never met before we joined book club. And when we get together, it is just pure, unadulterated fun. We laugh till our stomachs hurt, and cry with joy. We eat till we are full, and make the most of a night off.

I love it!

But this blog is only going to be about the drive to and from book club this week. I'll do the rest another day.

Leesa (my neighbour) and I alternate driving the 80km round trip. The evening begins at 5pm. I have usually spent the entire week psyching myself up for the garlic prawns and sticky date pudding. They are divine. Leesa and I fly out of the house at 5 on the nose. My house is usually clean, kids are bathed and fed and all CP has to do is tidy up after the meal and hold the kids back as I make my break for the car. The second I am in the car it's like I can taste the freedom. Once Leesa and I are both in the car, it's a full 1/2 hour of uninterrupted conversation. We can talk about kids and husbands and work or whatever. But we can finish whole conversations without children interrupting or shouting around us.

The drives to book club are mostly uneventful. At certain times of year you are driving directly into the western sun, dragging the trip in by an extra 5 or 10 minutes. And now, in the loveliness that is Spring, it is just a relaxing drive.

The drive home is another thing entirely. This is where we carry out all the "C" rated conversations that couldn't be discussed at book club. C for "car rated". Nothing you want to share with a group of women in a busy food and bar area. And that's a big call. We discuss some pretty funny stuff at book club - and it's not for me to release anyone's secrets here - but we all have some things we like to keep sacred.

The drive home is always dark. Regardless of the time of year. It's always a slower drive, than the drive in. Aside from the darkness, you also have to be careful of kangaroos, wallabies, and whatever other animals happen upon the road. One night we must have slowed down for no fewer than 100 kangaroos or wallabies. We spent more time in second and third gear that night than we ever have before! Mostly, it's just an opportunity to debrief before we launch back into the reality that is being a Mum.

This week the drive was a little different. About 30km into the drive home, we hit a kangaroo. If you haven't been reading these blogs from the beginning, check out my blog on kangaroos to see my thoughts on this. When I hit the kangaroo, I was just relieved that the car sustained no damage. Leesa and I were discussing this when out of nowhere, a pig hurtled itself full speed in front of my car. There was no time for any reaction other than to slow and hope for the best. The pig was large enough that I imagined that the panel damage would be huge.  Pigs are seriously filthy creatures. They are aggressive, disease ridden beasts. Germans dig their meat. Australian's could care less. And I apologise to anyone who really doesn't understand this at all. The poor creature would have died on impact (it went under two wheels), and we drove on sort of in shock at what had just happened. I was relieved it wasn't a sheep, as hubby would not have been happy at me hitting the stock. But only a few kilometers down the road we had finally decided to go and photograph the roadkill. Here is the photo. It's me looking cheesy after a night out with the girls, heels and all, pretending to be stoked about the dead pig. I think it was nervous laughter.

So why did we decide to photograph it?

1. Leesa has 2 sons, aged 9 and 11 who were going to LOVE this story, and we wanted the photographic evidence to prove it actually happened.

2. Our hubby's might have been kind of impressed too... especially if we embellished the story a little. 

3. We had only just been discussing (at book club) how we had never really been "pigg'n" before, and how it just wasn't 'our bag'. This whole event kind of mocked that, and we wanted the memory photographed. 

4. It had been a long night, and we were feeling silly.

5. We thought that we might be able to send this pic into the "Boars and Babes" magazine. And I am joking about that. They wouldn't publish it even if we did, (which we wouldn't) because I am not wearing a bikini and brandishing a gun. 'Boars and Babes' is a quality magazine you only find in small towns like ours. And you don't buy it for the articles. 

Actually, it's not even really pigg'n. Pigg'n technically involves massive, scary dogs and guns. We had neither. But we did have a dead pig. And I was just pleased that the car wasn't in the same condition as the pig. 

But boy did we laugh about it. Book club could not have been a more interesting night. And one of Leesa's sons was thoroughly impressed. The other one was disappointed I wasn't wearing a bikini, so that it could be more authentic... hmmmm. CP was happy the car was okay.

And now I never have to go 'pigg'n' again. Been there and done that, and now I've bought the t-shirt. 

By the way, this is how CP thinks a pigg'n photo should really look... OK, maybe he doesn't, but it's exactly how I think it should look! And CP looks cute in this pic...  

But I digress. This post is about the drive home from book club. And even without pigs and kangaroos and darkness, it is the quality time I can spend with a friend that is the most important thing. 

And CP still looks cute in this pic...