Saturday Morning in Newman …

After having a week of feeling like I had lost my blogging mojo … a morning of boredem in Newman seems to have brought it back.  Mr W., being the hard working soul that he is, has just finished his 3rd night of night shift this morning.   For those of you with partners that work nights, you’ll know just how frustrating it can be when you have to live in the same house … and be quiet.  It’s great when I’m working, I get up and get ready for work, Mr W. comes home, jumps into bed and falls asleep.  But what happens when it’s my day off?  Well, I thought I’d share with you what night shift means for me when the morning after falls on a Saturday …

It means I have to be organised.  If I want to shower once Mr W. has gone to bed, I need to have all my stuff transferred to the other bathroom.  I know Mr W. says that once he’s asleep he can’t hear anything, but I would feel just awful if I woke him (remember the smoke alarm incident).  And so, night shift almost renders me homeless for a few hours as I search for things to do in this sleepy town …

6.15am alarm goes off, I remember that Mr W. will be home in about 20 minutes.  I get up, quickly gather bathroom paraphernalia, clothes, shoes and dump it on the kitchen table.  Jump back into bed.

6.40am Mr W. arrives home, I pretend to be asleep … have a conversation I can’t remember …

9.13am awoken by text message from my mum (oops, I must have fallen back to sleep) … Mr W. stirs a little, but I manage to sneak out of the bedroom without waking him.

9.45am after a shower in the spare bathroom, I take the dogs for a walk through the bush.

10.30am race home, put the dogs back in the yard, grab handbag and race to the gym for Pump … oops got the times mixed up, it started at 9.50, not 10.50 … ho hum.

10.40am head to hotel to buy a take away coffee … $5 (yes yes, your eyes aren’t deceiving you).

10.45am head to the shopping mecca of Newman to waste some time … surely there is something to look at?  Go to Woolworths, buy three magazines I don’t need and 4 mandarins that seem fresh and tasty.  One magazine had a free ModelCo Lip Balm … bargain.  Cost … $24.

10.55am walk back to car … which I have purposely parked on the other side of the car park so that it takes longer.  Call mum and talk to her in the car park.

11.10am do a lap around town, see who’s about.  no one to see.  return to shopping centre.

11.15am go to Tyre Shop to pick up spare tyre which has been repaired after my flat tyre yesterday.

11.25am go to newsagents to see what junk I can purchase … result = 3 scratchies, a birthday card, The West Australian Newspaper, Fridge Magnet, Blank Card … total $25.

11.35am do another lap around town … still no one about, no one to see, nothing to do.

11.50am decide to drive to Tropic of Capricorn.  This may seem strange, but try not going above 60km per hour for a month and see how you feel.  The lure of a 110km speed limit (if only for 15 km) is just too tempting.  Put on 80’s radio station, listen to Cher “If I Could Turn Back Time”.  Drive to Tropic of Capricorn sign, take photos, get back in the car, drive home.

12.10pm (yes I made it past lunch time) … arrive back in town, seeing as it’s after 12pm I head to the bottlo (you can’t buy wine here before 12pm remember).  Choose 3 bottles of white and a cask of red (yes I know, but it reminds me of my fabulous holiday lol).  Get told by the lady behind the counter that one cannot purchase cask wine on a Saturday, only a Mon or Tues.  Feel incredibly embarrassed.  Put cask back on the shelf and choose a bottle of red.  Gee it’s hard when you’re forced to be classy.  Pay for my wine and head back to the car.  Total $70.

12.20pm Consider sitting in the park and drinking my wine.  Decide to get Subway instead.

12.45pm Waited in line at Subway for about 15 mins but was actually happy with this, as it pushed my time out of the house out even further.  Total $9 (come on, I had to buy a couple of cookies too!).

1pm Returned home with above purchases.  Turned out to be an expensive morning.  Have snuck into the office and locked myself in so I can blog quietly.

So as you can see, I just love night shift.  It really makes my weekend.  Now where’s that wine???

pp xx

Breakfast at the Tropic of Capricorn

I’m woken up by Mr W. suggesting that we head out for breakfast.  The thought of a good breakfast perked me up somewhat, despite the fact that I was awake at 5 am on a Saturday morning and I’m feeling a bit hungover from drinking too much wine at the footy club the night before (although I would never admit it).  So I hauled my seedy ass out of bed, showered and got dressed (leggins, leopard print tunic and denim vest, just in case you were wondering).  Mr W. raised his eyebrows at my attire (come on there were stilettos involved, I really didn’t see the problem) … but the thought of a good eggs benny and double skinny latte had lifted my mood beyond caring.

And so we set off to drive the 15km or so from Newman to Capricorn ( … the “Cappy” Roadhouse as it’s known around these parts.  The Cappy Roadhouse is a popular “trukkie stop” which also doubles as a restuarant and a pub.  And so in we go.  We are greeted by a typical roadhouse set up.  I checked out the menu on the counter … no eggs benny in sight.  I ordered bacon and eggs and Mr W. ordered the “Cappy Special” … which is basically everything.  I already had my sights on his hash browns.  I then proceeded to ask for a latte … before I knew it I was holding a yellow mug containing a teaspoon of instant coffee.  I could hear a voice in the back of my head “toughen up princess, you’re in the Pilbara now”.  Swallowing hard I took the mug and wandered over to the urn.  With my steaming mug of instant coffee … I stood there searching for the milk.  Hmmmm I stared blankly at the space next to the urn, hoping it would miraculously materialise.  A truckie happened to walk past at this point, so I asked him “excuse me, but do you know where I would find the milk?”.  He pointed at the bar fridge that I was standing in front of, before casually asking me “dye job?” (obviously referring to the fact that while I might be a brunette, he clearly thought I should be blonde).  I couldn’t help but chuckle at his quick wit.

And so, with my milky coffee in hand I headed into the restaurant section to find Mr W.  Now, I must admit, I was quite taken with the place.  There was a well stocked bar, pool table and lots of retro signs and paraphenalia from a time gone by.  I got my ass kicked at pool while we waited for our brekkie to arrive.  It was pretty cool, we had the whole place to ourselves.  Good music on the telly.  Good lord it took all my strength not to jump the bar and crack open a tinnie.

And then brekkie arrived … and what they put in front of me was waaaayyyy better than any eggs benny!!  You can check out the photos for yourself.  Whatever they do to that bacon works …

Mr W.'s "Cappy Special"

My bacon & eggs ... BEST bacon ever!

best cure for a hangover ... I'm not shy ... ate the entire thing! plus Mr W.'s hash browns ... YUM!

Now before I go, I have to share this next photo with you because it has provided me with endless hours of giggles.  When we finished brekkie, I noticed one of the girls was “setting” the table next to us … now all I have to do is find out what the hell I have to do to be a VIP at the Cappy Roadhouse Breakfast Table cos god knows even a princess needs to feel special once in a while.

Now, if you think the fun was over, you’re wrong.  A few kilometres down the road on the journey home, Mr W. started to slow down.  I was too busy facebooking to see what was going on, however was soon alerted to the fact that the road was being taken over by a herd of station cattle … excitement was a bit of an understatement … I had the camera out before they hit the bitchumen.  You can’t get anymore outback than this.

pp xx