An Outback Wedding?

And so after all the excitement of becoming Mr & Mrs W. to be … the time came to start planning.  Just on the excitement, you can only imagine how many hours I have spent staring at my ring and squealing at friends and family over the phone.  Poor Mr W., I really don’t think he was prepared for this side of things.  His ears are still ringing.

So back to the planning.  We really don’t want a long engagement, so we pretty much set the date the night Mr W. proposed … 12th November 2011.  Yep, while Mr W. watched Metallica … I gazed at the way the pretty lights reflected off my engagement ring … and planned the wedding … I’m a woman, I can multitask!!

After just 2 weeks, I, oh sorry, I mean we, had the entire wedding organised for Perth … celebrant was booked, reception venue booked and deposit paid … limo booked, hairdresser and flowers … they were all crossed off my list.  Everyone thought we were too eager booking everything straight away … but come on, look at our track record, do we ever wait around for things?  I think not!  I mean, let’s be honest … with the timeline we’ve been keeping, we should really be married by Christmas!

A few weeks after we were engaged my gorgeous best friend flew to Newman for a surprise visit … she arrived in red dirt splendour, a bottle of Moet under her arm.  We were all sitting around the kitchen table day dreaming about the wedding when Mr W. pushed an open book towards me … opened to a page displaying Home Valley Station.  All it took was one look from Mr W. (and some encouraging from my bestie) and I was sold.

And so, the next day I jumped on the phone, rang HV Station … and booked the entire wedding.  The only catch is that we have to bring the wedding forward to 3rd September 2011 … but that is definitely not a problem … the sooner the better!

All those months ago (he he) when we travelled the Gibb River Road together we had joked that if we ever got married it would be at Home Valley Station … and now here we were getting married … at Home Valley Station, among the gorgeous Cockburn Ranges and Pentecost River.  It just felt right.  The next chapter of our lives together is set to commence where it had originally began …

And so began “something boab, something blue” …

pp xx

Bride. Groom. Wedding. Soon.

So, I’m sure you’ve heard the news … Mr W. and I are getting hitched!!  Our whirlwind romance (and I use that term very loosely) continues … who would have thought that when I met Mr W. on 9th March 2010 that we would be engaged on 22nd October … wow!!  Now when I look down at my scungy nails, minus the beautifully manicured acrylics that used to be there … I see a beautifully sparkly rock (well come on, I moved to Newman, I deserved more that the average engagement ring!!).  So you ask, how did all of this come to be?

Well, I started dropping hints back in August that perhaps for my birthday Mr W. might like to buy me some jewellery … of the super sparkly variety.  This was followed by a few discussions about how our wedding would be, how I would envisage my perfect proposal etc etc … But like most women, I had to take it just a little bit too far.  By the time September came I was dropping hints left right and centre, leaving Mr W. wondering what the hell was happening.  I made sure that he watched the final episdoe of Farmer Wants A Wife and ensured that he watched Farmer Nathan popose … I even got my finger sized when I flew down to Perth … and started educating Mr W. about carats (and how these were different from the bugs bunny variety) … and the fact that I was expecting more than 1.

But alas, my excitement was to be short lived!  Upon arriving back in Newman after a short trip to Perth for said finger sizing, Mr W. sat me down and calmly explained that it was just too soon to be thinking about marriage, after all, we had only been together for 6 months.  Devastated, I bawled my eyes out for 2 days (yes, in the interest of entertainment, I will admit this) … well that would serve me right for bragging to all and sundry while I was in Perth that there would be a proposal before Santa came down the chimney.  You see, I thought that Mr W. would propose with my more than 1 carat ring when we flew to Perth together for my birthday …

And so, we flew down to Perth for my birthday … staying in 5 star luxury and loving every minute.  And so sitting in the hotel room on the day of my birthday, Mr W. told me to close my eyes.  He placed a little box in front of me … my heart started pounding … I ripped off the paper and discovered a Pandora Box … still very exciting … but not what I was hoping for!!!  I was totally spoiled for my birthday … treated like an absolute Princess.  And then Mr W. said to me … “wait, there’s one more … and I was going to wait until dinner, but I’m going to give it to you now so that you can brag about it to everyone”.  Again, my little heart started beating … I closed my eyes and Mr W. placed yet another beautifully wrapped box in my hands.  Ooooh this is it … I thought!  But again, Mr W. had fooled me.  However, what was inside was nothing to sneeze about … a pair of the most divine white gold earring you’ve ever seen … I decided to just forget becoming Mrs W. … well this year anyway …

Bring on the next day … Friday, 22nd October.  Mr W. was being a grumpy so and so all day.  To the point where I was ready to go and book myself into a separate hotel room and drown my sorrows in my own personal collection of Moet.  Ho hum.  Now, that night was the Metallica Concert (the real reason Mr W. had brought me to Perth … see what I mean about that romance thing!!).  And so, later in the afternoon, I set about making myself look bogan enough to attend such an event.  Dark denim, check.  Black T shirt, check.  Bridget Jones Underwear (can’t be a chunky bogan), check.  While I was attempting to straighten my locks, my little ears pricked up.  Was that the safe I had just heard?  No it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.  “Kate”, Mr W. called me from the other side of our hotel room.  “Babe, there’s a letter here for you, I wrote it the other day and forgot to give it to you”.  Annoyed that I was interrupted while trying to put the finishing touches on my hair and makeup, I stormed out to the desk and picked up said letter.  Hmmmm.  Interesting.  The letter was absolutely beautiful … a declaration of outback love at it’s finest.  But by the time I got to the end I was confused …
“2 months ago I made a life changing decision, 6 weeks ago I made a very expensive purchase and a week ago I made a phone call to which the answer came back YES”.

Confused, I moved the letter to ask what in God’s name he was on about … and that’s when I saw Mr W. on one knee holding a perfect little box … with a more than 1 carat ring inside … OMG!!!!  Did it just snow in Newman because Mr W. just proposed!!!!!!  And it was way better than Farm Nathan’s proposal – he was actually down on one knee!!  And that my darlings, is how Mr W. and the Pilbara Princess became engaged.  This also meant that the ring had been in the house for like 6 weeks and I hadn’t sniffed it out!!!  Hmmm my bling bling radar must need recalibrating!!!!

Bling Bling!

Stay tuned for the next instalment … our wedding plans are sure to be nothing short of hilarious.

Love you Mr W.

pp (aka, the future Mrs. W.) xx

 

Red Dirt Romance …

What does romance mean to you?  Have you ever thought about what it really means when you tell someone to “be romantic”?  I have been pondering the true meaning of romance for a while now and decided to share my findings with you …

I thought a good place to start would be the dictionary.  And so I consulted dictionary.com to see what it had to say on the hot topic of romance.  I was told that romance could be “a novel or other prose narrative depicting heroic or marvelous deeds, pageantry, romantic exploits, etc., usually in a historical or imaginary setting” or “a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention“.  How interesting … I had never thought of romance as being “baseless”.

Another source described it as “ardent emotional attachment or involvement between people; love“.

Six months ago romance to me meant flowers, chilled champagne cocktails at my favourite restaurant, dancing, someone whispering sweet nothings in my ear, maybe a love note here and there, or a well chosen gift, dinner at a fancy restaurant, being told how beautiful I looked, or how much my eyes sparkled.

My how Newman has changed my perception of romance.  I have thought a lot about this in the past few months and it’s only now that I’ve changed my way of thinking.  You see, for the past few months I have really nagged Mr W. about not being romantic … especially seeing as we only celebrated 4 months yesterday!  The Pilbara is by no means conducive to a “romantic courtship” … there are no florists, no gift shops, no fancy restaurants … and no sandy white beaches with amazing sunsets … and there no “marvelous deeds” or “romantic exploits” … or so I thought.

You see, it’s funny how sometimes we reflect on things and see things through a different light.  I’ve decided that Mr W. is very romantic, it’s just a different style of romance … I think we’ll call it “red dirt romance”.

Who needs jewellery when you have a man who gives you his Surfer Joe’s to walk across a mangrove crawling with spider crabs, rather than have you walk barefoot?  Remember, you can see though diamonds, well white ones anyway.  Jury is still out on the pink Argyle ones …

And who needs a fancy dinner when you have a man who will not only make you a bacon and egg sandwich with a runny egg, but also give you advice such as, “honey, if you turn the other way, the wind will blow your hair back and you won’t get runny egg in it” … oh Mr W. … bless those so called unromantic bones of yours.

He will also take you to the most beautiful beach in the world to watch the most amazing sunset you’ve ever seen … but be warned … there will be no holding of hands or eye-gazing.  He will have a quick fish instead.  But you know what, he will still be there next to you … well down the beach a bit anyway.

He will teach you to drive a manual without yelling at you and a few months later when you drive him to work he’ll tell you how proud he is of how much your driving has improved.  He will tell you that your hair doesn’t look all that bad when some hairdresser in a town you visit makes you look like a five year old hacked at your fringe … and then a few weeks later when your fringe has grown back he’ll tell you that actually, it was terrible.  He knows that timing is everything.  He will always make you a coffee and put your toast on before you go to work.  He will let you write a blog about your life together … and just when you thought he couldn’t get any better, he’ll write a blog on his point of view …

These are definitely heroic and marvelous deeds in my eyes …

pp xx

ps … just a little note for Mr W. … just in case he reads this … even though I’ve come around to the whole “red dirt romance” idea … any forms of previously held notions of romance are still very welcome.  And even though you can see through diamonds, like I said, the jury is still out on the pink ones.  Oh, and pearls, you can’t see through them.  Thank you xx

Gibb River Hilton – Part 4 First Day on the Gibb “Diesel Starts with a D”

Well today was special in many ways … not only was it mine and Mr. W.’s 3 month anniversary (and yes, yes I know 3 months in a drop in the ocean, but when you decide to move 1200 km to the edge of the desert to be together after only 2 weeks, 3 months is a bloody long time!) but it was also our first day on the Gibb River Road..  Anyway, today was memorable for many different reasons … and none of them romantic … despite the fact that it was our anniversary!

Well … the day started like any other … we woke up at 6am, had brekky, packed up ready to leave for the great Gibb River Road.  We needed to get some Diesel on the way out …  yes, note that Diesel starts with a D.  We have 2 tanks … you need them up here.  And so you can imagine Mr W.’s face when I suddenly realised after 80 Litres, that it was unleaded that I had put in the tank and not Diesel (for those of you, like me, who are unaware of the size of a petrol tank, 80 Litres is well over a tank of fuel).  My Bad.  To his credit, Mr W. stayed very calm.  There was no syphoning.  We just decided that we would chance it, and top up with Diesel.  After all, a wise man once said to me that running a Diesel car on Unleaded is just like drinking diet coke.  I’ll let you know how this turns out later …

But that wasn’t the really fun part.  We trekked on over to the other servo to fill the jerry cans with Diesel (I didn’t want the other servo to know my little screw up!) when Mr W. decided it would be a good time to rearrange the back of the car.  This involved a fishing rod with a large triple barb lure which was stuck in the marine carpet on the side of the Patrol.  Well, Mr W. told me to move it, but being the smart princess that I am, I turned around to put my gloves on (that’s a whole other story) … by the time I turned around, Mr W. was standing there, a big hook through his finger and a large colourful fish hanging off the side of his right ring finger.  Oh ho hum … safety starts at home!!!!.

It was a big decision … do we pull it out ourselves or seek medical attention?  Hmmm big decision.  Well side cutters were definitely required, so we popped into the mechanic next door and asked him for a pair.  You can imagine his face when I used them to cut the hook that was hanging out of Mr. W.’s finger  before casually placing them on the counter, thanking him and walking out.  The things you do in Derby huh!!!.

Now I must say, Mr W. is my hero in so many ways.  Mainly because before driving himself to the hospital (I think he thought this was safer than trusting me with the trailer) he strapped 2 20L jerry cans of Diesel to the roof.  That’s my man.

And so we rocked up at the hospital Emergency Department where they x-rayed Mr W.’s hand which showed the hook sitting just beside the bone in his right ring finger.  Nice work.  And so, after some handy work with a scalpel, the lovely Doctor pushed the hook back through Mr W.’s finger.  He was so brave, he didn’t even bat an eyelid.   I made sure that they put the hook in a jar for us to take home and put next the x-ray (which I’m going to frame as a momento to remind Mr W. that sometimes princesses really do know best … well unless you take Diesel).

And so, off on the great Gibb River Road we go … stay tuned for our next lot of adventures!!

pp xx

Ps … In Mr W.’s defence … we did have a “date” at the wharf restaurant the night before, which included a little walk on the Derby Jetty … there was no mention of our anniversary … but you know what … it was still lovely.  Thank you baby xx

Gibb River Hilton – Part 2 “It’s a Steep Decline into Cask Wine”

Well … we’re on the road … and by we I mean, Mr W., me and 3 other chicks.  Yes, that’s right.  Mr W. is camping with 4 women (he will have 7 women by the time we get to Derby!).  A lucky man you may say … and you know I think that at the time he thought so too.  However now he’s actually on the road, I think perhaps his perception has changed.  Now you may ask how a good looking rooster like Mr W. ended up at Eighty Mile Beach with his gorgeous princess and 3 other lovely ladies, but that my friends is a whole other story … which I might leave for another day.

So Mr W. and I left on Tuesday and headed to Port Hedland.  We shared the disappointment at how the cheeseburgers really didn’t taste as good as we remember.  And Mr W. held me as I cried when they removed my acrylic nails.  Yes folks, you heard it here first.  It was decided that acrylic nails and camping were not a great combination … and so a lovely lady in Port Hedland removed them for me.  After not feeling my finger tips for well over 2 years, you can imagine the shock.

After a night in Port Hedland, we have ended up at Eighty Mile Beach.  A beautiful caravan park (before Cyclone Lawrence got hold of it).  It’s no longer a green oasis on the edge of the Great Sandy Desert … although the beach is still spectacular!

Now, after about 3 days of camping I really have learned a lot.  And like any good princess, I feel that it’s my duty to share these lessons with you, so that they may help you on your way, especially if you ever find yourself out here …

  • Don’t eat copious amounts of chilli prior to undertaking a four hour drive.  If you would like further details on this, please feel free to contact Mr W.  He will be only too happy to share his experiences.  It’s quite funny to see him charging through the bush like a bull that’s just seen a red rag, roll of toilet paper in his hand, holding his belly and thinking the world is about to end.
  • Spinifex hurt.  No seriously, they are very painful … especially when you are traipsing across the country side in thongs and get them stuck in your feet.  Note to self … while sneakers may not be the height of fashion, they will prevent serious injury.
  • Racehorse goannas bite!  They may look cute from a distance … but they aren’t much fun close up …especially when you see the size of their claws!
  • When travelling cask wine is a much safer option than bottles (and remember, this side of the Tropic of Capricorn, it’s all about safety).  However, it should also be noted that sometimes, you can’t buy more than 2 casks at a time (which is bad when you are heading bush for 4 days) and often, these casks can’t be purchased prior to 2pm.  Again, remember that you often end up drinking way before breakfast up here.  And even flashing certain parts of your body will not change the Bottle Shop Attendant’s mind, just in case you were wondering.
  • Leaving casks of red wine in the sun makes port.  Port made in this manner is not pleasant.
  • When camping you need to multitask.  You can use the power points in the caravan park ablution blocks to charge your laptop and camera while you shave your legs.  It’s just good time management really.  Well that and generators are not allowed in the caravan park … no matter how much you argue with the ranger.
  • Bourbon and coke is a very acceptable alternative to coffee upon waking while camping.  In fact watching the sunrise with a bourbon is something you really should put on your bucket list.
  • If you don’t have shot glasses, just have “Bush Jagers” … a swig of Jager straight from the bottle, followed by a swig of red bull … shake your head side to side to mix them together and then swallow.  Continue until there is no red bull left.  This is great fun at 10am in the morning … really sets you up for the rest of the day.
  • Camping is not romantic.  You don’t make love under the stars and snuggle up together in a sleeping bag.  You don’t sip wine and watch the sun go down, holding hands.  And you certainly don’t stay up all night getting to know each other better.  No girls, it’s really not what you thought.  Although … I’m sure that Mr W. has some romantic things planned for later in the trip … don’t you darling?
  • When the “tide guide” says high tide at 2.30am …. you can’t go fishing at 2.30am and expect to catch anything.  You need to be there approximately 3 hours before high tide.  However waking up at 2.30am for a failed fishing expedition is a great excuse to stay up drinking for the rest of the night.  There is nothing like greeting your princess in the morning with bourbon breath.
  • Ooooh and back to the cheeseburgers that weren’t as great as we remembered … well turns out that if you have leftovers, wrap them in alfoil and put them in the campfire the next morning … they actually don’t make a bad breakfast!

My stash of cask wine ... OMG!!

That's the Gibb River Hilton on the right ...

Racehorse Goanna

Amazing 80 Mile Beach Sunset

Tomorrow we are heading to Broome and then to Derby … and then the real fun begins.  After that point there are no more showers or swimming for that matter, unless you want to be eaten by a crocodile.  And so you can imagine I am just about bursting out of my crusty salty skin to get to that bit.

Until next time … keep the bourbon cold and the casks out of the sun.

pp xx

ps … I’ll be out of internet range again for about 3 days, so my next post will probably when we get to Derby on Monday or Tuesday … and lots more photos … I’m sitting in a pub with my laptop plugged in at the bar in order to post this!!   pp xx