Joy is…campfires, swags and surprises!
I kid you not, about a month ago I enthusiastically agreed - back when the weather forecast was favourable - to accompany Sharni and Johnny on a weekend camping trip up the coast.
As a comfort zone dweller, this was not normal behaviour.
Sure, I’ve slept in tents before, but these days I’m quite fond of four walls, an actual roof and a decent mattress.
But their excitement was contagious. Soon even I was looking forward to it.
Unfortunately, as the date rolled around so did the rain clouds. And they were rumoured to contain hail.
I found some good excuses to stay home and be warm, dry and comfy watching Netflix. But Sharni and Johnny would hear none of it. “That’s camping!” they would chirp every time I pointed out a possible catastrophe.
They seemed confident in their set up too, even a little proud. We would be sleeping in waterproof swags under a gazebo (something we would soon be very grateful for), complete with a camping stove for cooking and an esky to keep the food cold. Johnny even packed head torches.
On Friday, Sharni and Johnny headed off early with all the gear — because some of us still had to work — and enjoyed perfect driving conditions and a warm, holiday-style welcome at the campground. They set up camp and even snuck in a trip to the beach
I, meanwhile, drove up later that afternoon through a torrential downpour and winds strong enough to impress a storm chaser.
Miraculously, the rain eased and the wind dropped just in time for dinner by the campfire. Though the storm would return for bedtime, we had plenty of time to enjoy an evening under the stars — with Johnny’s animated yarns and Sharni’s sweet songs.
The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, revealing blue skies and stunning scenery. The beans were full of beans and keen to find as much joy as possible hidden around the campground.
And they did. And so did I. There was joy in the camp-side meals, the shared nature walks, the quiet moments alone with a book, and in simply watching the beans revel in it all.
There was only one incident involving native wildlife and a swag left unzipped. There was squealing. There was chaos. But as Sharni and Johnny would say… “That’s camping!”
- Sam
Joy is…boats, beans and driftwood dreams!
Sharni and Johnny haven’t been out in their boat since the floods, but last weekend they decided it was time to once again enjoy their local waterways.
It’s a little tinny — to match Johnny’s little car — but with just enough room for me too, when I’m keen.
We packed sunscreen, hats, bottles of water and some yummy snacks, then headed for the boat ramp.
There were a few people ahead of us launching jet skis into the river, and I could almost hear Johnny’s thoughts. He and Sharni shared a knowing look followed by cheeky grins, and if he hadn’t been operating a motorised vehicle, I’m quite sure Johnny would have penned his letter to Santa then and there.
It’s at this point I should mention that stepping from solid ground into a floating boat feels about as natural to me as walking a rocky track in heels. While Sharni and Johnny navigated the transition with nimbleness and glee, I can only assume I looked like a sack of potatoes being dragged off a delivery truck.
Anyhoo, it wasn’t long before we were buzzing along, the wind in our faces and the sound of the motor drowning out Sharni and Johnny’s animated conversation. They looked excited and were clearly hatching a plan, but I had no hope of hearing them. I’d just have to wait to be surprised when we got where we were going.
Turns out we’d be anchoring on the shores of the estuary — a place that had once been soft sand but was now a splintery carpet of driftwood. As we puttered around looking for the right spot, we took in the sight before us.
I thought the beans would be disappointed, but where I saw devastation and change, they saw joyful opportunity. They built a fort. Of course they did. It had been the plan all along.
A quick scan of the horizon showed the silhouette of driftwood teepees reshaping the landscape.
Sharni and Johnny poured every bit of energy into their construction project while I loitered in the shade and supervised.
When I awoke, there it was — a magnificent architectural marvel and two exhausted but extremely proud beans.
As we headed for home, it occurred to me that although the landscape may change, joy always finds new ground to play on — well, Sharni and Johnny do anyway.
-Sam
Joy is…dancing under the stars!
The annual spring festival has wrapped for another year - and I’m still in recovery.
The fun kicked off on Friday evening, and we didn’t exactly ease into the festivities. Sharni and Johnny were mad keen to experience everything the three-day event had to offer, and I had the near-impossible job of pacing them just so I could keep up. At first, I didn’t do so well. It was like trying to slow down a runaway freight train. Or the speed of light.
Flashing lights, colourful signs and catchy sounds were everywhere, all vying for our attention - and our coins. The funfair rides were spinning almost as fast as Johnny’s eyeballs, and the food and drink stalls offered an exotic and endless array of temptations.
But we averted overwhelm - that night at least - thanks to a very happy distraction: the live music.
A nine-piece band played in what would otherwise be the middle of the footy field. A gentle sea breeze stirred our hair, cool grass brushed our feet, and the stars glittered above us.
It was wonderful.
And so we danced.
Sharni and Johnny pulled moves I’d never seen before. We danced to old favourites and songs less familiar. We even attempted the Nutbush, despite none of us knowing how.
I’m pretty sure Sharni and Johnny shouted the loudest for an encore. And then another. And another.
They danced and sang until the night wore thin - and so did I, until I could barely move a muscle.
Luckily, the beans slept like logs. But they didn’t sleep in. Gates opened at 8 am, and they didn’t want to miss a thing.
And as I watched them race ahead into another day of fun, I couldn’t help but smile. Joy, it seems, never needs a rest (even if we do).
- Sam
Joy is…an early start!
Something very strange happened the other day.
I got up early.
You see, for weeks now, Sharni and Johnny have been rising with the sun so Johnny can practice his surfing, while I’ve stayed in bed suffering from acute FOMO.
But that morning, woken by the sounds of nature—or possibly a surfboard being waxed—I felt unusually compelled to get up instead of roll over and miss all the fun.
There was a flurry of activity as Sharni and Johnny got ready, and I noticed a surprising spring in my step as I hunted down the kettle to make a cup of tea.
This time, I decided to take it to go.
The early morning beach didn’t disappoint. Johnny was easy to spot in the waves—turns out you don’t need good eyesight to see a bright blue bean with a giant grin on his face.
I collected a few shells to add to Sharni’s growing stash and wandered the shore, feeling the cool sand on my feet and the warm sun on my back.
It was almost perfect. Idyllic, even.
It was also only 6.15am. Good grief, what was I thinking?
Still, not to worry. Soon the clocks will change, it’ll be dark at 6.15am, and the beans will sleep in.
And joyfully, so will I.
- Sam
Joy is…festival fever!
Sharni and Johnny are buzzing with excitement for one of the biggest weekends in their little town.
The annual spring festival is about to arrive, set to attract thousands of visitors over the long weekend.
Some of the fun fair rides have already started rolling in—though not yet fully set up—and my joyful friends have been studying the festival program like they’re cramming for an exam.
It will be my job to prevent a repeat of last year’s incident involving Johnny, some very sticky candy floss, and poor Sharni’s hair. Wish me luck.
In the meantime, it’s not just festival fever that has them hopping with joy.
On Sunday, Daylight Saving Time officially begins here in NSW and the clocks will jump forward one hour which means… darker mornings, longer evenings, and a whole lot more time for twilight adventures.
Sharni and Johnny are thrilled at the thought of playing outside while it’s still light, enjoying dinners al fresco, and generally reveling in every extra minute of sunshine. I, on the other hand, will be busy ducking and diving to avoid the mosquitoes.
Plenty to get excited about—and plenty for me to try and keep up with (armed with bug spray of course).
- Sam