Australia Day without tomato sauce.

Of course it was a BBQ.  Down at the beach.  With a bunch of top people.  Classic.

When we arrived at 4pm, you could barely see any grass or sand, there were so many other groups with the same idea as us.  

I always pack for BBQs with a sinking heart, because I always forget something totally vital.  Luckily we don't often go alone, and have ultra organised friends who can fill the gap.  And sometimes we have been able to supply something someone else has forgotten, making me feel a little less hopeless.

It's amazing though, the things I forget, which should be blindingly obvious.  I think I need a BBQ tub which is always stocked with the necessities.

Last night, I remembered the paper towel, a sharp knife and plastic plates and cups for the kids (last time I forget all these).  However I forgot the TOMATO SAUCE (oh most Australian of condiments), left the dips and cheese in the fridge and didn't bring any spray oil.

On the bench.  Not at the park.  Of all the things to forget...

Forgetting the tomato sauce on Australia day may be one of the most unAustralian things anyone could do.  I'm lucky I wasn't arrested.


We joined the group, poured drinks, and I began to get out our nibblies, before realising I'd forgotten the dips/cheese.  Sheepishly I added our crackers to the pile and epitomised the name of this blog.

I forgot to put out the chips too, so eager was I to sip a glass of bubbles with my mates.  Luckily no-one starved.


It was so busy, we couldn't get near the common BBQ, requiring an emergency drive home by a couple of the menfolk (in hunter mode) to track down a portable version.  They returned in good order, with a Barbie and two nearly empty gas bottles (isn't it always the way?) and proceeded to get their tongs out.

Get your tongs out people.

And your thongs...

A plethora of snags and chops hit the hotplate, surrounded by a few more delicate offerings including chicken kebabs and haloumi (ours- am currently addicted- yes I know it's not diet food).     

We shared meat, offered salads, peeled prawns (yum), fed kids protein on a roll, tried to sneak some veg in (it was getting dark so we hoped they didn't see).

One very clever family brought sushi for dinner, requiring no BBQ.

The kids swam and ran, plastered themselves in tattoos, climbed trees and screamed and threw sand, were shouted at admonished for throwing sand, swam, tried to ride surfboards at a harbour beach and made a volcano sandcastle.  This list is not exhaustive.

Sarah chose her cheek, Issy, her decolletage.  I do worry about that child. 

When we left at full dark there were still an amazing amount of people there, although the dominant demographic had changed and we were definitely no longer it.

Packing up a BBQ/picnic which has been attended by 30+ people in the dark, is tricky and requires much attention to detail.

Even so, at least four grown adults (of which I was one) stopped packing up briefly in order to compare their iphone torch apps.  We showed each other our strobing, and waved them in the air, pretending we were in the mosh pit, before our clamouring children brought us back to the task at hand...going home.

It's a strange world we live in yes?

We threw the poor exhausted offspring straight into bed when we got home (after 9).  Because we forgot to wash them, the sand in their beds is reminiscent of the Boomerang Beach experience.  It's hard to rinse kids down after the beach when it's pitch black, and quite frankly, putting them in the shower when we got home just never occurred to me.

It would have been a clever move.  So would bringing the tomato sauce.