A Weekend in Bathurst

Mrs Berry was supposed to pick me up in the Berry Bus on Friday, “around midday” I was informed. So being a sticker for punctuality, I woke early, washed my hair, did all those annoying jobs one must do before leaving the family for the weekend like emptying the lint from the dryer (apparently no one else can do this), cleaning out the kitty litter tray and ridding the house of dying floral arrangements.

THE GLAMOUR IS REAL PEOPLE!

It was time to leave and I was ready. And so I waited.

Four hours later, Mrs. Berry turned up and her excitement was almost enough to banish my irritation. Almost. I did tell her to FUCK OFF once. But then we were away.

You see, a few years ago we were approached by a start up who wanted to host a podcast which we were to present. So we said we would do a few and see how we felt about it. We were pretty much hooked immedialty, we enjoyed ourselves so much we didn’t even realise that anyone would listen to it, let alone totally get where we were coming from. Podcasts were for champions of industry, for entrepreneurs, for people like Meshel Laurie and Mia Freedman. They were not for mid-forties mouthy women with opinions, who were not really qualified to talk about anything in particular.

But nevertheless we persisted and in doing so, we found a tribe of chicks, just like us, who just wanted to have a laugh, talk about getting older, politics, challenges we are facing and of course those wanting to know about the perils of being peri-menopausal.

It might not be the most popular podcast on the inter-webs, but I tell you this for free. It is perhaps one of the most fast and loose!

So Mrs Berry and I met at Charles Sturt University in Bathurst in 1992 and we had always daydreamed about going back and doing a Live Podcast in that town that holds such dear (and often inebriated) memories. Between us we have been blogging for 21 years and oh my how things have changed. Real stories have made way for the new generation of, well now they call them “Influencers” who are always very helpful for if you want to know how to organise your stationary drawer, and there is a place for that surely. But the essence of sharing the raw grit is now out of favour, particularly with marketers who largely ignore anyone over the age of 35.

But being the old stalwarts that we are, we place the most importance not on numbers or having the latest shiny appliance, but the core of what we do both individually and together, is based on community. Urged on by our friend Sawhole, a date and venue was booked, an Eventbrite site was set up and then we waited.

JUST WHO THE FUCK DO WE THING WE ARE?

My old friend self doubt came to stay for a while. OF COURSE IT DID HELLO? Bugger off.

The event day came and we scurried around the town doing last minute panic things like getting labels for the jams that Mrs Berry had made for everyone. About an hour before the doors opened, Mrs Berry and I popped across to the park to write some show notes (we wing these things). At the park there was a family on the table next to us enjoying a picnic with their cats in cages which was unusual.

Then, two birds attacked and swooped Mrs Berry as we sat and brainstormed (about one second after I took this photo) and it was at that very moment, I knew that everything was going to be alright.

And alright it was! A room full of wonderful women turned up, Prosecco were poured, hugs were exchanged and we were away. I did this move pretty much every time Mrs Berry opened her mouth. Here she is explaining the the women how to get a latex dress on, which is the outfit of choice when going to a swingers party….

Massive thanks to Damo and Matt from The George Hotel for making everything run so smoothly, to Samantha Leith for hosting and singing, to two of my dear Real Housewives of Lindfield for coming up to be the Welcome Wagon and to Mrs Berry who was so cool, calm and collected and super inappropriate at times. And who can forget Mrs. Kaye’s superior crafting skills!

But mainly thank you to our Flushers, those who listen every fortnight and especially to those of you who came from all over the state to listen to a couple of mouthy broads banging on about whatever jumped into our heads. It was splendid to meet you and we left feeling like community is still alive and well.

 

Oh and the brownies in that Pink and White striped bag were also the other reason we were so late…… grrrrr.