Friday night conversations #7 To school, or not to school?

I’m putting myself in the line of fire tonight for Friday’s conversation.

I’ve had a few days to settle, and I really wanna know what you think…

Baby girl wasn’t allowed to start school when it resumed on Tuesday… can you guess why?

Well, she has symptoms. Cold symptoms.

Sorry, symptom.

Sure. I get it. Sick kids, cannot go to school with all this coronavirus still so much in the forefront of our lives.

But that’s not the case you see… all she has is a cough.

A post-infectious, non-contagious cough.

She has been under the weather for a while. Because the cold hit her so long ago, like literally months ago, she only still has the remnants of that one, lone, annoying symptom…

The cough. The annoying, cough.

(Cough cough).

The cough that can last FOREVER… but no. She cannot go.

I was soooo cranky. Actually, cranky is not the right word. I was something like, vicious.

I’ve calmed down substantially since then, with a relaxed F$%^ you attitude.

But I wanna know (and don’t let the above throw you off!)…

What do you think? Do you think a child should be allowed to go to school, with a cough, even though it is NON-CONTAGIOUS?

Or do you think all symptoms, any symptoms, catchy-catchy or not, should stay the hell away?

I promise if you respond, I will not bite…

Photo by Oleg Magni on



‘What Does It Mean’ Monday #6 “Lunatic”

Did you know that we are currently in the full moon phase? Although that shiny orb in the sky has appeared to be glowing in a circular fashion for a few nights now, the official full moon time was this morning at 8:07.

Do you get affected by the full moon? Do you find those around you getting cranky, emotional, irrational even? Is traffic more trying? Random upsets with friends occur? An annoying hiccup at work? Your pets go ape-shit?

I’ve started paying a lot of attention to the moon cycles. Ever since I started going off-kilter because of them… and my cat too.

The moon. Lunatic. Lunar. How did the term evolve to how we use it today?


Photo by Guzmán Barquín on Unsplash

Let’s first look at the word ‘Luna.’

Wikipedia says, Luna: a Spanish, Italian and Romanian name of Latin origin, meaning moon.

How does this differ to ‘Lunar?’

The Collins Online Dictionary says, Lunar: of, or relating to the moon. 

We are clearly talking ONLY about the moon here. So where did the -tic come from, and how did this evolve to people going crazy?

The Online Etymology Dictionary says Lunatic is a late 13th century word meaning “affected with periodic insanity, dependent on changes of the moon.”

Origins are from Old French ‘lunatique,’ meaning “insane,”

or directly from Late Latin, ‘lunaticus’ meaning “moon-struck.”

Ok, so the moon can make you crazy, we get it. But is there any proper evidence to support this long-held superstition?

The Lexicon Orthopaedic Etymology says that the first uses of the word were related to epilepsy rather than insanity. It was believed that epileptic seizures were triggered by moonlight, therefore the term lunatic was reserved for those patients.




However the very first known entry is in the 5th century Latin version of the Bible, where a father asks Jesus to cure his son as he is “lunaticus” – that is, suffering from epilepsy.

“Lord, have mercy on my son: for he is lunatick…”

Have you personally felt the effects of the full moon? Have you ever felt like going a little ‘cray cray’ at a certain time of month? (And no women, I mean the other time…)

I know a medical professional who sees 6 independent women from the police force, and they all concur that on the night of the full moon, they are much, much busier than usual.

Take that as you will. But today, tonight… beware…


Photo by Drew Tilk on Unsplash

Is there a phrase or quote you want me to investigate?

Let me know, and I’ll give it a go!

Life Rules by SmikG #1 About wine and being shitty in reply

Keep this list handy…

#1 Don’t write/email/respond to someone who has pissed you off, while you are still pissed off… and drinking wine.



Photo by James Jadotte on Unsplash

Explanation: In my online writing course the students give each other feedback on our 5000 word submissions. The other day I was totally cranky pants and thrown off by one such student who thinks they are smarter than the teacher (why are you doing this course then?)

I didn’t like their disparaging and condescending remarks to my submission, and then, the student got the entire plot of my story wrong!

Like, why comment on something and tell me you don’t believe it, when you didn’t read my synopsis properly in the first place! GRR ARGH!

So I stewed… and I stewed…

And I drank some wine…

And I stewed some more…

And then still shitty (and still sipping on red)…

I took the wine to the computer…

And I wrote a reply.

(Insert snapping dogs and cats clawing at one another).

I was diplomatic in my reply. Sure. But now, a few days after, I’m feeling…



Why did I let someone I don’t even know get to me?

Note rule number 1!



Baby girl says the darndest things #4

We were sitting in a Frankston café today. A really cute and funky one I might add.

This coffee snob had insisted we walk 9 minutes around the corner away from the shopping centre we had just parked in, because really, the café options, and subsequent coffee and sweet possibilities on offer at those cafes left LITTLE TO BE DESIRED.

Fortunately for me and a cranky Hubbie, the coffee and sweets at my destination of choice were GOOD. 🙂


So we were sitting there enjoying our little café break. It was about 2pm. There were others in the café. Several staff at the front and the barista stationed at the ready in front of her caffeine machine.

Suddenly, from around the corner and behind the coffee making machine which was right to the side of us, there was the sound of several things falling, and then almost a crash, or a smash. Several people on our side of the café looked up and around at the sound. We couldn’t see anything but could only imagine.

And then baby girl, in amongst spooning big piles of cushiony foam from her babycino into her mouth, yelled out –


Laughter followed. From both the staff behind the machine who noted the care coming from the childlike voice. And from us, and the customers to the side of us.

“She said what we all were thinking!” one diner nearby told us.

The barista appeared only moments later and informed baby girl, in fact, that she hadn’t broken anything! But thanks for checking 😉

I was still chuckling to myself as we walked into the centre to take a photo with Santa,      5 minutes later…

Geisha’s Gate

31 Macrossan Street Port Douglas

When thinking of our dining experience here, I envision Sigourney Weaver from Gorillas in the Mist. No, no jungle animals here. But it was very breezy due to the high volume of fans blowing; it was still extremely humid despite this; it was dimly lit; and the large green leafy palms all around the restaurant just made me think Ms Weaver may in fact pop out at any second.

When we walked on over to Watergate on our second last night in Port Douglas, I realised the woman standing at the front of Macrossan Street was not in fact, promoting residential properties, as she was positioned in front of the nearby real estate agency. She was standing at the walkway to the poshy restaurant, and it was only pure chance that we got a table. She asked if we had a booking and when we said no, she said she had to go and check. Lo and behold, the man walking out of the restaurant had just gone in to cancel his reservation. Boy had we struck gold. In one regard.

We waited for 1 minute on the couches in the bar area while our table got ready. The water we were brought for the whole of that one minute was sweating profusely in our glasses by the time we got up to be seated, and I was starting to fear the dress I had chosen, worried I would be leaving sweat patches when I got up.

Yep. We were getting used to the all-encompassing heat that was so prevalent up in that part of the hemisphere.

This place had more of an exclusive feel than the prior night’s Bel Cibo. Though both were of a fine dining experience, Bel Cibo was more visible sitting high up on Macrossan Street, and seemed more open and accessible… the fact that Watergate was down a walkway off the main strip, with most of its dining areas hidden from view, and the mysterious fire lanterns glowing through the night, gave it an air of intrigue and mystery. Like I said, gorillas, mist.

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The restaurant was split levelled, and as you walked down into its shallow depths you went down a few steps at this section, and down a few steps at that section. We were seated in ‘that’ section, the base, with fans on the ceiling and electric ones nearby blowing full-on straight into our faces.

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There were candles on the tables and some torches about, with absolutely no other lighting, which made taking food photos EXTREMELY difficult. I preface this before I present to you a photo of the Crown Hubbie had, and my Geisha Girl cocktail – crushed fresh strawberries & vanilla bean with vodka, wild strawberry liqueur and guava

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My drink was, divine.

At the beginning of our being seated baby girl was given a pencil case and the kids menu to drawn on, which listed the meals available to her as well as a little side puzzle. On top of that, once again we were at a paper-clothed covered table establishment, so she COULD draw on the table to keep her occupied and happy… but happy was not something available to her that night. No-siree. She had had very little sleep that day as we had been sight-seeing around extensively, and her grumpiness and unwillingness to stay seated was just the beginning of what was to be a very frustrating night.

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Her meal had fortunately arrived earlier than ours as requested:

Chicken pieces with chips, tomato sauce and broccolini

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She had had the option of vegies, or salad with her meal, but we opted for the broccolini. It’s mighty brave of these restaurants to be serving broccoli-like vegies to littlies – not that I contest, I think it’s great, and baby girl does eat it. It makes it great too in that she isn’t just eating chicken nuggets with chips every night, like what most restaurants offer up in their kids menu.

These were grilled chicken tenderloins, and both looked and tasted a lot better than the chicken we had had at Bel Cibo the previous night. Baby girl also seemed somewhat satisfied in the 0.5 seconds we managed to keep her in her chair and eating. At all other times she was standing up in her high chair, wanting to walk around the restaurant, sit on my lap, as well as stand on it too, and just do anything BUT sit quietly and nicely in her chair and eat. Of course. She’s 2. That’s her job, right? To never sit still.

She did occasionally give a shy smile at a nearby older American couple who were near us, who we had a brief conversation with over the whir of the fans whizzing. And even though the couple were really very sweet, I think the lady waving to baby girl eventually made her anxious and scared, for some reason I don’t know since she is always so friendly, but because it was only after they had left that she sat back in her high chair, and let me continue my meal.

This is what I got:

The Prawn Linguine – local tiger prawns tossed with olive oil, spanish onion, chilli, confit garlic, fresh herbs and shaved pecorino

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While Hubbie got the Pork cutlet: speck-crusted pork cutlet served with a jalapeno & smoked cheddar potato crush, seasonal greens and a port wine jus

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Once again I got like, 5 prawns, only this time it was on a heartier meal base of lotsa-linguine. These prawns were much chunkier and juicier than Bel Cibo’s, but because of their size I felt that they needed perhaps a tad more cooking, for my taste anyway. For this reason, I probably preferred Bel Cibo’s ones, but cooking-time with anything, especially seafood, is pure chance anyway. They also had a seafood taste, complimented well with the strong chilli and garlic flavours in the pasta. This was no half-arsed chilli dish, like what I have been disappointed with so much in the past, and future as well, with the chilli-pasta meals I’ve had following this experience at the time of writing. This was hardcore, this had kick and power to it, made more so when I sipped my cocktail and got a massive spicy blast in my mouth. I liked it, it just made me sweat a bit more, something I needed that night (sarcasm).

Hubbie got his pork cutlet and enjoyed it immensely, he was very pleased.

As much as we had enjoyed the food, we unfortunately hadn’t enjoyed the experience with our cranky girl – it wasn’t her fault, she was tired. It just meant that we paid a lot of money for great food without really enjoying the night together. In fact it had slightly scarred us, as we vowed we would not go out to dinner the next night, our last night there. We would get takeaway noodles instead. And since we left right after scoffing our mains, it left me yearning for more, as I was almost positive that dessert there would have been simply magic. Oh well. Leaves room for growth and anticipation I guess.

Food: 9/10. The food was of high quality, and yet for the price you paid you actually got a decent amount, not an entrée size.

Coffee: N/A very unfortunately. That’s alright, more for next time…

Ambience: Breezy with the 1000 fans. Dim-lit, a little annoying if you’re like me and a) take food photos and b) like to dissect every bite of your food. Lucky for them, other than the prawn tails there was nothing else to check through a magnifying glass. It’s very romantic if you’re with your other half, and don’t mind the feel of wind in your face as if you’re Rose standing at the bow of the Titanic, Jack holding her so she doesn’t fall off, type thing.

Chilled, yet still of a decent volume what with the diners and fans fighting for volume dominance.

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People: Poshy. Here are the ones that come out to seriously ‘play’ in Port Douglas. They seemed much more affluent here than in any other restaurant we saw. However still friendly, as was evidenced by our friendly American neighbouring table. But the man who looked over at us and passed back the pencil that baby girl had flung in her tired and sweaty state, was not so. He was part of a big group for a birthday, and there were actually quite a few groups there that night.

Staff: Very, very nice. Our main waitress was quite understanding of baby girl’s demeanour, telling us of her own child, and was kind enough to just be cool throughout our sleep-deprived-baby issues. All staff were exceptional and very professional, though here they all seemed much friendlier than at Bel Cibo’s.

Price: At a total of $116 for the lot, which roughly consisted of the same as what we had had the night before – 3 alcoholic drinks, 2 mains and a kids meal, this place was in front. We didn’t need a side dish like we’d had at Cibo’s, but with the heartiness of the meals we didn’t need it. Definitely worth the coin.

Advice: Book ahead! We chanced it and got exceptionally lucky. Get the geisha (or two or three), and enjoy a night in the jungle.

In a nutshell: We really loved this place, and comparing it to the only other fine-dining place we experienced in Port Douglas, this had better food, better value for money, better service, and I guess the surroundings, well that’s personal. I liked these surroundings, and it was much bigger and had more seating than Cibo’s did. Both restaurants were great, don’t get me wrong. But on my return to Port Douglas, Watergate’s prawn linguine and dessert with a shot of coffee will be on my agenda, somewhere on par with jumping into the crystal clear waters of 4 Mile beach and taking an unauthorised dip in the swimming lagoon at Mossman Gorge.

Ensuring baby girl is well-slept, of course.


Watergate Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Happiness Is… #5

Hubbie’s well-timed jokes.

Similar thread from another ‘Happiness Is,’ but I just had to share regardless.

I was so shitty yesterday morning (not actually my fault because this time it was hormones), and because I had vented onto my parents that morning of course I had guilt, and that guilt turned to anger and frustration, and that just made me more shitty well into the afternoon.

Hubbie came home from work, and with his car still running in the garage, came inside to get some paper towel. “Bird shit on my car.” Again. Hubbie’s car is this orange-gold colour (fusion is the name, if that helps to paint more of a picture) and for some insane reason birds are always crapping on his car. He’s coming home from work, unfortunately usually when it’s been a beautiful day out, and fuming that the birds targeted his car, again. He’s tried parking a few metres front and back from his usual spot to see if it makes a difference, but gets the same result every time.

Winter has kept the birds at bay, however with some awesome sunny days occurring lately (remember my excitement about the 20 degrees?) the birdshit has returned. Hubbie is a big car enthusiast, but I think the shit would be annoying even if you didn’t care much for cars. It’s shit, after all.

Funnily enough, maybe because he hasn’t had to deal with it lately, he wasn’t too shitty (pardon the pun) about it. He came back from cleaning it up, and I tried to kindly inform him of my mood: “Just warning you, I’m really sensitive, and really cranky today.”

He was ok with that, and we kept kind of small-chatting. And THEN –

“I saw all that bird shit on my car, and it made me think – ” (Here I foresaw something funny about to occur) ” – I felt like I should take a dump on it too.”

OMG. Thank you Hubbie for breaking my cranky spell.

I had one of those great laughs where you do the ugly face laugh, and then you can’t breathe. “Haw haw haw.” It was great.

Sometimes we forget to laugh. Which makes it all the more important to surround ourselves with the best people, who hold our best interests at heart, and who make us laugh, the best.