Ah, Mansfield. Such a gorgeous little town in the high country of Victoria. So scenic. The smell of woodsmoke. The chill in the air. The friendliness of the townsfolk.
And so bloody cold I think I am still defrosting. *
We were there for a long weekend of family reunions. Mr QM's folks had turned 80 earlier in the year, and given one of the brothers owns a motel there, it seemed like the perfect place to gather. And it was. Don't get me wrong. But the weather was so damn frigid, I'm not too sure having a barbie for lunch on a day when it didn't peak above 6 degrees was such a great idea.
Exhibit A - the guests of honour and their nine offspring. We had to disrobe them all of several items of warm clothing each just so we could recognise who was who in the family photo.
And there were kids. Lots and lots of cute nieces and nephews and grand-nieces. Like my grand-niece Eve. We became each other's biggest fans over the weekend.
And my nephew Aaron, the best behaved little boy you could ever meet.
Ever since I arrived home on Sunday night I've been crook, first with a cold, then with gastro. A phone call from one of the brothers to Mr QM last night began with "so, how is everyone in your house feeling?" When Mr QM told him that I was at that point in bed after upchucking myself stupid all afternoon, it turned out that I was family gastro victim number 10, at last count. Brilliant. That's the third time in recent years I've come away from an in-law family gathering with gastro.
If that's not a sign to avoid these things, I don't know what is.
* Would love to have shown you all a photo of the deep snow on Mt Buller, but I wasn't allowed to drive all the way up the mountain due to a certain screeching, panicking back seat driver who may or may not have been my mother-in-law. Of course, the rest of the family, not being as privileged as I in having her in their back seat, got all the way to the top and had a GREAT TIME. And they were more than happy that night to tell me that I got within 200 metres of the top. Bastards.