We travelled up to Jabba the Hut yesterday morning. I read the paper in the car and got annoyed by this headline.
Still fabulous? Like what normally happens when you reach 40 is that your fabulous scale begins to slide? I can hand on my heart say that all the women I know who are about to hit 40, or are working beyond that age, just get more fabulous!
Or am I wrong. Did I use up all my fabulous and didn’t even realise it?
We drove down the hill into Jabba-land. That was pretty fabulous.
There is something that happens to me when I hit that little hamlet. I breathe out. It is quite easy to lose your shit at this time of year. People get snarky. I see it happening all the time. So the quick night away was just the tonic for us.
Jack cracked it as we arrived, so he was promptly put to bed for a much needed siesta while Harry and I wandered down the beach for a swim.
Jabba does not have wifi, or Foxtel, or other modern technologies so we make do with the beach, walks, reading, games and napping. And that is all FINE BY ME!
I ordered this book a few years ago because Oprah told me to, but had never found the time to get stuck into it before yesterday. I knocked that sucker over in 2 hours.
It is split up into chapters under the following categories:
I posted this photo on my instagram account and a reader, Maryanne, asked me what the book was like. I am sending it to her today, with instructions to pass it on when she is done with it.
I thought of the book again after dinner last night. The kids were complaining about washing up. Jabba is also dishwasher free but has a plentiful supply of mozzies.
I actually started the conversation with “When I was a girl…” and told them about how me and by siblings used to wash and dry up every night after dinner. And how Mum was a creative cook and used LOTS OF PANS.
Harry rolled his eyes and said “How did you survive Mum?”
I’m putting it down to 40 years of fabulous.