Thomas Don't Know Jack

Writing in retrospect:

This weekend we went on a women's retreat with our church. What a great time! It started on Friday night with an insane car trip up Tamborine Mountain. Insane, not because my driving company was Crazy Sister, insane because of Thomas.

Thomas is my husband's TomTom GPS navigator. I knew the quick way up the mountain, Tom on the other hand advised us to do a u-turn for most of the way. It was convinced that there were no roads to our destination and to give up. I lost my confidence in my own skills and nearly turned around, wasting about an hour of our time, but Crazy Sister convinced me to keep on going, and sure enough, we were on the right road.

That's me - cleverer than a GPS.

The accommodation was lovely. I've stayed in a campsite on the mountain which was condemned after (but not because of) my stay, and others that gave me material the write "A la carte, a la tente." Like mosquito wrigglers in the tank water.

But in our cabin, we had a fridge. It was the LOUDEST fridge I've ever heard. I don't know what was wrong with it. In the night, the hum of the fridge turned into a roar. It sounded like the fridge wanted to break loose and drive through our cabin and plough over our beds.

The fridge didn't bother me though, because I got to sleep until I woke up in the morning. Not until my dear little kids woke me up, until I woke up!

It was great.

To be continued.