The final instalment in our Christmas adventures, despite being almost two weeks late, but no apologies: I’m in holiday mode! And perhaps nobody is even remotely interested or cares about this stuff, but this blog (if nothing else) is my own little place to file away our memories. When I’m old and grey I might not remember that Harriet’s hair stuck straight up as a wee one, or the colour of that Summer sunset or the way Eleanor squinted her eyes to do a fake smile. But I’ll have all that filed away in this space.
We usually try and squeeze in a trip north over our Christmas break to our other home-away-from-home: Boort. The northern oasis. Our besties live in the southern Mallee town, who we don’t see nearly as often as we’d like, but small children and a five hour drive in between our homes will do that. The new year is often rung in lakeside in Boort, or more often than not with weary farmer husbands asleep on the couch and Kate and I simultaneously chinking champagne glasses and rolling our eyes. Same every year – at least they’re consistent?!
We have become somewhat the add-on members of Tyler’s family, I joke we should change our name to ‘Matt and Emma Nelson’ – we share family holidays, ski vests, a mutual love of avocado, weddings and, heck – I was even present at the birth of Audrey! Days by the lake are some of my very favourite, with food and family and nowhere else to be. Our days in Boort usually involve the boys doing farm jobs, and Kate and I catching up on all of the things, drinking bottomless cups of tea, sharing recipes and these days chasing toddlers. It’s slow and easy and the perfect finish to our year, not to mention the busy lead up to Christmas. We exhale when we get to Inverloch, and breathe deeply when we get to Boort. Another special happy place for us.
Friends like these don’t crop up everyday, I am always grateful that our paths even crossed in the first place – two (now three!) very special people who I just can’t imagine doing life without. Even if we only get up to see them once a year (a travesty!) or vice versa down to our green Gippy foreign-to-them hills, it doesn’t seem to matter. When friends become family, time and distance don’t matter at all. Now with our little people in tow it’s a whole new adventure, but still it’s slow and easy and simple. Effortless. Any friendship like that is worth it’s weight in gold. Absolutely no airs or graces, expectations or assumptions.
Until next time Team Nelson, with love from Team Steendam. Or Nelson.
Do you have special doppelgänger besties like us?
Who just get you?
Farmer husbands who never stop working?
Same values? Same page? Same season of life?
Lucky you if you do, they’re pretty good eggs.