It's Australia Day, Jan 26th, 2007

Today is Australia Day.

It's like Independence Day in the USA, or Republic Day in SA.

We're going to support a few friends who are getting their citizenship this morning. It's kinda cool- they get congratulated, get given a plant and a meat pie and a flag by the local mayor. Some sun tan lotion, a Fosters beer and a croc. Okay, the last sentence I made up

And so to celebrate our Australian Family (one little Wallaby and one Opal) here's a quick photo blog of our little Australian's and their daily lives

Aaaaarghhhhh, SHARK,
SHAAAARK - RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!













Look Sis, stop the shouting dude. You're already irritating me and I'm only three weeks old...


















Hey! We're not stopping Fashion week because of some fall out with some fish!














Fish???? That's all a shark is???? I'll eat the thing! Sushi they call it, I think...














This may be the last normal photo of me. Mad daughter. Mad husband. New baby. Goodbye cruel world...

Strange but True Australian Signs

We've been wanting to share these photos for some time, and the Blog is the perfect medium for this. Here's a collection of photos of signs we found found throughout our travels here in Australia. Take a look at the first one, which we came across in far North Queensland.....

Or how about this one below, taken on our way to Kings Canyon, just south of Alice Springs. As we drive through this town we spot this sign.... (it was true, by the way)

Can't work this one out - on a toilet in South Australia. "Only people with one big foot allowed into toilets?"

And finally, on our way to NSW, from Adelaide, we pass over this little creek, one fine day...

My name is Kyle Dylan Whalley, and I was born on the 8th Jan 2007

The story of my birth actually began on Friday night, with a quick dress rehearsal just to make sure everyone was ready for my grand arrival. I’d been giving poor mom hell for weeks trying to break my own record for stretches and somersaults in a confined space, so when I decided to change tactics and stop moving about and curl up in a tight ball, she naturally became concerned.

Off to the Mater Hospital we rushed, for a bit of monitoring, but once I was convinced the facility was up to standard we returned home for a nice relaxing weekend.

Monday morning 8th January 2007 started like any other, with the usual trip to Dr Michael Fortune (a.k.a Make-A-Fortune) in Mossman. To everyone’s amazement he pronounced that mom was already 3cm dilated, and that I’d probably be born sometime that day. Dad was delighted that I’d thwarted mom’s last minute shopping spree at the mall – us boys have to stick together, he he!

Now you probably know that the Whalley's are not known for our patience, so as soon as we arrived home I decided it was time to get things on the go. Why wait around any longer? And anyway, I was becoming a little claustrophobic. Mom was so cool about it all, so much so that the nurse did not believe she was truly in labour when we arrived at the hospital at 13h05. A quick examination promptly changed all that, and Dr Fortune was immediately summonsed!!!! Mom was praying that the red Ferrari she’d seen in the parking lot earlier was one she’d helped pay for when Savannah was born two years ago, as he was still examining patients on the other side of town!

After that things happened really fast, and the next 45 minutes are a bit of a blur. All I know is that there was a lot of pacing and panting and moaning, with dad taking a lot of abuse for his attempts to humor and distract mom. Mom insisted on waiting for Dr Fortune to actually earn his fortune, and refused to get onto the delivery bed until he arrived at 13h50! And then everything happened extremely fast… With all the lights, cameras and action I rightfully deserve: I made my debut at exactly 14h00! The grand finale… “It’s a boy!”:

I am alive! Kyle Dylan Whalley is born! And so the Whalley family name lives on. (My mom wrote this up, by the way - I just dictated it. Good to be the king...)

My gym's actually a Real Estate Agency

You see, I have a point to this (this is Pete writing, by the way)

"Renovators Delight" - sounds like absolute pigsty; "Warm and Cosy" means freaking small place and my all time favourite "Location Shot" (normally a view of the ocean, house in Alice Springs) Sounds familiar?

Well, my gym has just joined this gallery of con artists. (Hmm, collective name for con artists?)

Let me explain, if I may. I'm reading a book called Natural Health, Natural Medicine, and it inspires me to pick up my cardio exercise routine. Sure, I do the soccer thing during the year, and I ran the City to Surf 14km like an idiot, but regular cardio exercise - nope - can't say I've got a great record, glancing back through 2006.
So I pick up my gym's exercise phamplet and it's got some great classes, one of which I go to yesterday, called "Body Attack." Allow me to read the description: " ..."high intensity moves, exercises and activities. A great cardio workout...."

Great. I'll be lean, trim, fit, and full of stamina, shortly. Girls will leer at me.

So I'm into this and I pitch up at the gym and walk into the class. I casually notice there are no men. In fact, I notice 16 girls. Did I reconcile this with the fact that it may not be a "Body Attack class?" the way I see it. Nooooo. Not me.

Did the instructor ask the old "Who's new to this class" question (read "Who is the idiot in the tight shorts, slightly caved in chest?")

Did I put up my hand, and did 32 eyes (although some of the girls really squinted at me, or glared, so I can't be certain of the number) glance at me with a spasm of interest, then quickly turn away, as if they were about to witness an accident?

What they actually meant was Aerobics... You see "Body Attack" actually MEANS Aerobics. So how come my gym has teamed up with my local real estate agent?

I start to perspire (yup, I no longer sweat) before the music comes on, because I've seen this movie before. The scene opens with the lead actor in the dance studio, struggling his way through the dance routine, followed by coffee with one of the girls, some general chat throughout the movie, some falling in love, and a regular championship dance at the Sydney Opera House. Followed by cute babies arriving, white picket fence yada yada yada. The end.

In my version, shot in cheap black and white, the wide eyed buffoon (remember the ferret's eye's from the movie " Ice Age") in fact spends 45 minutes convulsing to the music and dance routine. He is in fact clueless and uncoordinated. No girl leers. Some weep.

I leopard crawled to the shower. In hindsight, I guess I enjoyed it, and I'm sure I'll go back. But I am now going to take more care with the description of the classes

Check who owns your gym....

Happy New Year

Ahhhh. The smell of a New Year. The promise of new beginnings, the washing away of the old and wise days of 2006, the freshness of a deep breath in the serene surrounding of a mountain stream, and a belief in the present... Happy New Year to you all!

And yes, the start of our family Blog.... Hopefully not one of these new year resolutions that fall away.....

And what a year it promises to be, to get right back on track of this Blog...

A new "Whalley" into the family. "What it it?" I hear you cry?

" Not sure," we scream back! But it's a baby, and not a dolphin, neither a possum, this we know!

Rene's common war cry in our home when people ask how she is feeling is "Full and Fat and tired of that" Having said that, I know she is keen to enter the "Mater Weight Loss and Relaxation Clinic", also known as the Mater Hospital, so she can be entertained, and lavishly gazed upon like a brand new star. Alas, she will have to share the fame with "Billie Goat!" Why Billie Goat, you shout accusingly at us - 'tis true - it is a BOY! Nay, we screech - "Billie" is a name for male or female! Ha!

Other wonderful news in our household is that Rene's mom has joined us for a little sojourn, from her Kenton-On-Sea abode, to help the poor lost husband, and "Speedy Savannah" during this time of change. Ahhh, the waft of the freshly scrubbed and rosemary doused roast lamb, gently eased from the oven womb, is a fulfilling (excuse the pun) gift from the Mother Outlaw that cannot be replicated after the future departure of this wonderous cook...Gulp, hope my mother does not cast her eyes upon this blog!

And so, onto our next post....whenever....