Last Friday I travelled with friends across the border to Hastings Point for an extended weekend retreat with one of the quilting groups I belong to, Jems Quilt Sitters. The founder of the group and her husband have a beach house right on the waterfront and are extremely generous in offering us a weekend at their house every year. This is a beautiful unspoilt part of the world in the Tweed area. I'd love to tell you how to get there, but then I'd have to kill you. The locals like it just the way it is.
There were about 11 of us and suffice to say some of us made a reasonable attempt at getting a fair amount of sewing done, while others were less impelled to complete their project in a weekend. I fell in the latter half, I must confess.
Naturally, we hit the local fabric shop (only $11 a metre!) and left the staff begging us to return.
On Friday evening some of the group wanted to watch some television, but could not get a picture. We all had a go at fiddling with the wires, buttons and knobs, both back and front of the giant screen, but all to no effect. The lone male (the beach house owner who was staying overnight) gallantly came to the rescue. Nope. Still didn't work. Then some bright spark suggested perhaps the batteries in the remote were flat. Mr Nameless immediately replaced them, but still the only sign of life on the screen was the message, "No Signal". "Don't worry girls - I'll call the repairman first thing in the morning before I return to Brisbane and he'll have it fixed in a jiffy." I have progressive photos of all these events, but the sight of all those grown women and the lone male making fools of themselves is not terribly edifying. Besides, they probably have photos of me that I don't want published! Well ... here are a couple to show you what I mean:
Where's Bob the Builder when you need him?
The next morning the repairman duly arrived and fixed the set in record time. Mr Nameless had put the batteries in upside down. It was that sort of a weekend.
This is why we love Hastings Point so much:
We arrived back in Brisbane in time for Mother's Day lunch, sadly without the children and grandchildren who were scattered far and wide, but next weekend Tony and I will have our share of hugs when all the grandchildren will be in Brisbane. We can hardly wait.