There's A Hole in my Bucket

The title says it all.

Except the bucket has so many holes, there's just a handle left.

Last week, Number One Son stepped in and swept Bella and I off for some respite from the insanity.

We flew to Melbourne where he took care of all the details and allowed us the break we needed.

One must eventually return to routine, but briefly resting under the wing of that wonderful son and brother for a few days certainly helped. 

I may have even smiled again.

An hour before setting off for the airport, I decided my hair needed some zing.
It helped.
We stayed two nights at #1 Son's quaint, old, inner-city, worker's cottage, then he put us up in a beautiful old heritage-listed hotel, Warwillah, a beautiful Queen Anne-style mansion built in 1896, which was once home to Governor-General Issacs.
We felt very spoiled.

Just one of the beautiful, original stained glass windows at Warwillah.

It was wonderful to rug up in our coats and hats; here I'm wearing a 70s velvet skirt that rarely gets worn in Brisbane.  The parrot brooch was a gift from sweet Vintage Bird Girl, while the 1950s coat was ten bucks from a Brisbane market.

 

A mish-mash of brooches (who can stop at just one?), including the Anti-Joyce badge Clare (formerly Miss Simmonds Says) made me.

Number One Son took us to the historic St Kilda Pier, where we saw three Little Penguins nesting among the rocks.

What a treat!  We'd never seen wild penguins before.

I love wearing this enormous brooch Helga made for me and decided to flaunt it on my turban.
The Tiki Tour continued with a visit to Brighton Beach, where the brightly-painted huts draw tourists even on the coldest, yet sunny days.
We searched for Miss Fisher, but she was probably putting some fine young boxer or dancer through his paces with a fan dance.

Sundays mean a very late start, coffee, breakfast, then Camberwell Markets.

We arrived 40 minutes before closing time so there was no time for pics, but we perfected the art of vintage shopping on the run.

Bella picked up fab leather boots for five bucks, plus a glut of clothes for her, scored for a dollar or two.

The girl is rapidly outgrowing her wardrobe, luckily she adores the hunt for second-hand treasures.

Long may it last!

I found her chic, warm coat at an op shop in Canungra during our school holiday adventure.

On Monday it was breakfast at Balaclava, where Bella discovered she had a taste for Yo-Chi frozen yogurt and sourdough toast with smashed avocado and feta. Yum!

Lucky I had a second cup of espresso.
It meant I had to make a run for the nearest public building, where the delectable Miss Tallulah Porkchop, spotted us sprinting for the loo!

What are the chances?
As you can see I nearly suffocated the poor wee dear in excitement. 
Melbourne's a big city, so we couldn't believe our luck!

 

From there, Miss Porkchop directed us just a few meters down the road where we sprung upon gorgeous Clare of Stitching Purple Blooms.

Holy feck!

I couldn't stop myself from beaming with joy at finally meeting, by chance, both of these two stunning wenches.

You can tell I'm happy from all my chins.

Then it was off to St Kilda Pier and boardwalk again, stopping off for a look at Luna Park, then we spent some time with huge, native black swans.  They look so elegant in the water, yet so clumsy waddling about on the sand don't they?

What a glorious day.

 

The embroidered cotton blouse from the Philipines was a dollar and the shell cross was fifty cents, both from Camberwell Market the previous day.

 

 I've nicknamed Melbourne the City of Coats, Boots and All-Age Stunning Wenches.

 On our final day we snapped more beautiful buildings: Flinders Street Station and the Royal Exhibition Centre, before spending a leisurely afternoon exploring Melbourne Museum.

A majestic blue whale, a locally-themed ocean exhibit and volcanoes were some of the features of our "school day".
Then there were the art lessons.

Looking ahead, I realise being a full-time carer to my husband isn't viable and we will have to work with any and every agency to get the help he needs.  It's an incredibly taxing job and after four years, I feel my kids and I are the ones that need some care.
Hopefully I can find a way to fill the holes in the non-existent bucket.
Please, no sympathy.  
Hugs, D xo