maryj
My partner and I just moved to a really cool location just three weeks ago. In Jervis Bay...it's beautiful. We are super close to the Basin waters where the fishing is apparently fabulous. Not that I'm the fishing type. Sitting still for a long period of time hanging on to a rod isn't really my thing, I don't find it overly relaxing...but then again I find the process of a facial really really boring too, I've only ever had the one and that was enough for me. So I certainly don't want to come across as being judgemental or under-valuing the experience and sport of others. Maybe I'm just wound up a little tight when it comes to some things...(please don't recommend fishing or a facial...lol). Maybe it's a dislike of captivity. Unless it's for dinner, catching a fish to throw it back seems a little cruel somehow. Laying on a beauticians table with someone slathering goo on my skin and telling me to relax, somehow also reminds me of being captive somehow. Having my eyelashes dyed occasionally is also equally disturbing...it is so difficult to deny that slightly cold burning feeling seeping into your eyes. You wouldn't think that it could be difficult to hold your eye lids shut, without squinting..."don't squint...it makes it worse!!", you're told by the kind lady who holds the future of your eyesight in her very hands. Of course you try to obey but the burning produces watery eyes which allows the dye to leak futher into your eyes...and it's all over as you practically beg the nice lady to take it off now thanks..."They won't be ready yet" she says reassuringly. In the nano second that follows she senses your distress and the sweet soothing pressure of wet cotton pads wipe the poison away and you are forever grateful. You emerge from the little room of 'luxury', slightly dishevelled, looking like you have cried a river, which you may later as you take the first few sips of that ever soothing cappucino, trying to look normal with your reddened watering stinging eyes and your slightly skinnier wallet. The things we do 'ey?
Anyway, back to the beauty of the Bay. Stunning! While the Basin is gorgeous, there is only one word for the beauty of the deep deep Jervis Bay... majestic! You can see that it is deep by the dark blue of the water, and the marine vessels that use it, including the Navy. On the shore of the deep blue, there is clear cold tidal water that is invigorating and refreshing. The beach surrounding the Bay has the whitest sand I have ever seen. This is a beautiful place. It has been a good move from slightly inland to the sea for two people who don't really enjoy sitting still for too long.
Our days have been typically busy with all that goes hand in hand with moving location. Unpacking, arranging, cleaning (don't you just hate that, moving to a different rental and having to bring it up to clean!!). In between, trips to the local villages along the bay, a bit of exploring and the trips to the local hardware store to pick up the various bits and pieces that you suddenly find you need. Lightbulbs, extra lengths of hose, a new mop because you left yours resting up drying against the water tank on the side that you don't check before the final drive away from the old house, and clothes pegs. Yep, left them behind too. Now we have way too many because our dear neighbour, fondly know to us as 'Grandma', rescued them and sent them down. Anyone need some pegs?
We are settling in very nicely thank you very much for asking 
It was on one of our explorations of a beautiful bayside village that I spotted a 'sale' rack outside a little clothing store. The racked was packed full of colourful Sari's, cossy tops, bottoms and one pieces. And it said the right thing..."50% off". The two types of "SALE" signed racks I love to check out are the one's that say "50% off" and "$10". So I did
My partner is a patient man, sort of, but I think I detected a small groan as I bee-lined for the racks. Although he would have prefered to be fishing, he followed me into the shop where he was inflicted with the shopping pains that almost all men feel. "What do you think Hon?", I asked as I held up several bikini tops for his valued observation and opinion. With the precision of an ex-military man, he quickly said either yes and no to all the tops that I showed him, and I'm sure I heard a groan from his general direction again as I dove back into the swimwear rack, this time inside the shop and not on sale.
You may disagree with me, even tar and feather me, but I happen to think that in general men (who are willing) win hands down in some of the elements of shopping. They have this amazing ability to do a quick walk through, gathering "intell" on the way, and then go directly to what they think is the right product, based on 'need', 'purpose' and price (please notice no reference to desire, artistic flamboyance or any other kind of girly supposing). The streamlined shopping technique of men, although widely unappreciated by the woman who enjoys the "shopping" experience, is rather special in its ability to conquer the task at hand and get out quickly without being wounded. Come on girls...admit it...there's nothing worse than spending your precious time on a task that can become tedious and tiring. These particular guys get the job done, get home get the lawn mowed and cars washed and have that thing we ALL want more of...LEISURE TIME. Those of us who don't appreciate their skill are the ones who who come home from the long and often painful day shopping for stuff we don't need and possibly couldn't afford and get irritated when we see them relaxing on the couch in front of the V8 Supercars, blissfully nodding off. No wonder they look at us like we have two heads, with a bewildered look on their faces when we get the poos on! Don't despair though...we are vindicated when we pull out the new shirt that they need for that important event or meeting the next week. They are grateful. Gosh really, I don't know if I'd rather shop like a shark or jolly about like a whale on vacation from the Antartic...both have their beneifts!
Well, whilst I tried to 'jolly about' whilst being hurried along by the ever perservering yet admiring 'shark'. I felt something strange. As I jostled my 'girls' into position in a bikini top that was way too small I felt a lump underneath my left breast. I must have imagined it. My period was due...hormonal lumps...nahhh! Out of the skinny top into the 'E' cup, I felt it again. This time I stopped. I held my breast with my left hand as I gently felt around the base of my breast. There it is again. But it doesn't hurt. That's strange I thought, cysts hurt. I had been told that before. I had a cyst in this one before, in much the same place and boy...did it hurt! It got so bad that the pain would radiate into my arm right down to my elbow, and up into my shoulder. But this doesn't hurt. "What are you doing in there darl'?", came the question from my precious and talented shark. I snapped too, and emerged out of the fitting room with my two arms holding the unco-operative top in place as my sweetheart tied it up. I forced myself to forget the lump for a moment as I admired a bikini top that a) fitted and b) actually looked okay and fitted. "What do you think babe?", I asked, "Is it okay?". "Yes,", he replied nodding, "It's okay.". "Is it just okay or is it good?", I asked. "Yes honey, it's okay, it's good, its fine". After a couple more of my annoying questions, I was sure that he was resolute in his response and I went to change. As I leaned into my bra and re-arranged myself into it, I felt the lump under my finger tips. It scared me. It hadn't gone, it wasn't in my imagination and it didn't hurt. Back in the car and on the way home I told my honey in a matter-of-fact way that I needed to go and see the doctor just down our street, and why. I wanted to sound like it was something simple, just a quick look see to confirm that it was the same cyst that had been there before, that it was hormonal or whatever. I don't know if I was very convincing because in reality the anxiety inside me was building.