A little family time

A truly historic day.

This is Bruce’s daughter Cathy’s 26th birthday and also the day we meet her partner, Dan.

Cathy has chosen a really hip, cutting edge new restaurant called Woodberry Kitchen. It is in an artfully repurposed old warehouse in the upcoming gentrified area of Baltimore for us to meet for brunch.

It is a ferociously hot day.

Bruce has us leave early to find the restaurant in good time so we have a little time to explore the restaurant surrounds. But, my, it is so stormy, hot, and humid one does not even feel like walking. We don’t. We sit about and then go into the restaurant and seek out the reserved table, which is not ready. So it doesn’t matter that Cathy and Dan are running late. The restaurant is running late. It is jam-packed. It is so chic it doesn’t know what to do with itself.

It’s a high, vaulted room with lots of wood and iron. Rugged, rustic, historic.<

p> People keep swarming in.

Finally Cathy and Dan arrive but the table still is not ready.

We wait at the bar and do opening chitchat.

Eventually we are taken to a nice upstairs table where, mercy, we can hear each other.

Cathy and Dan have beers. We order strange and exotic alternative healthy brunchy dishes. This place is right out there on the brave new fashion edge.

I’ve never had anything remotely like what comes as my order. I adore it.

We indulge in lots of small talk, getting to know Dan and catching up with Cathy.

I am feeling for Dan. Meeting the prospective in-laws for the first time must be nerve-wracking. The skies have opened up outside. Torrential rain is hammering the paving stones beyond the window. The restaurant serves me a good macchiato. It gets full marks.

We meander off into the steamy rainy outside.

Cathy and Dan have secured a darling town house in a nice, leafy outer suburb of Baltimore.

They have only recently moved in and are still fixing it up. It has lovely expansive forested outlooks from both front and back, which is just marvellous. There’s a lovely back deck where Cathy is growing her chilli plants. There’s a basement rumpus room and a workroom for Dan. As a gun-free Aussie, I look with curiosity at his massive firearms safe. It is the first I have seen in real life.

We meet Aether, Cathy’s highly-strung adopted poodle who sees Dan as his rival and exhibits pathological aversion to him.

We loll about for a few hours chatting and then,

since the rain has stopped, head off for a steamy walk in a lush, undulating park at Satyr Hill nearby. It is overcast and tropical. Fingers of mist caress the wooded hill slopes. The air is so dense one can almost drink it. We walk slowly.

En route home, we drop in on the supermarket and pick up salads.

Dan has ordered Chesapeake blue crabs for dinner.

A Maryland crab fest lies ahead.

Bruce’s son, Robert, 29, arrives,

delivered by one of his carers. He is pleased to see his father. He is even a bit pleased to see me. He responds very positively to the gifts I have brought, tactile things I hoped his sensitive autistic fingers may enjoy. I am thrilled they go down well. And we gather around the table with a sense of new family togetherness, and crack on with the grand crabs Dan has brought in, hot from the steamer and zesty with coatings of Old Bay Seasoning. We

smash with hammers and pick out the delicate, fresh flesh. This is a classic Maryland treat. Cathy gives me tips to be a faster cracker. My proficiency grows. These are, indeed, up there as arguably the best crabs in the world. Rivalled only by the Queensland mud crab, I

think. We crack and suck and swoon until we can eat no more. Except for birthday cake.

We gather again with Robert for an Indian dinner at that wonderful Royal Taj by our hotel. Robert likes Indian, Cathy says. She arrives fresh from her new job just as Robert is delivered by his carer. It is a lingering and lovely meal. Robert is in good form and we all feel enriched by being together again.

Robert has a very busy schedule run by his carers. One has to make a booking to see him. This may be one of the secrets to his overall healthy appearance and his seeming sense of peace with the world. One truly must credit his mother, Ellen, whose dedication and expertise

has seen that he gets the best that the system has to offer a young man with his particular needs.

We don’t get to see Robert again on this trip. We do, however, meet Cathy’s new steppies - Dan’s daughter Izabel, nearly 6, and son Grayson, 18 months.

For this grand event, we go Bruce shopping and buy the makings for his famous spag Bol. No fancy new-wave pasta this time. Children are involved. Angel hair forever. We make use of the kitchen in their new townhouse to prepare the meal ready for homecomings from work and arrivals of children. I get some special me time to sit on the serene back deck and read my new

book, Donald Trump Revealed.

It is love at first sight with the kids, albeit Grayson is a suspicious child and he will make me wait to get to know him. No stress. Izzy merits complete attention and we sit together and read the Grug books I have brought her and she brings down one of her books and reads it aloud to me. She is a good reader for her age and a very bright and darling little girl. We are besotted with each other. This is a marvellous start to what I hope will be a long relationship.

We meet again on our last day in the Baltimore area, a day specially extended for the purpose - and we gather at PF Chang’s Chinese Restaurant on Baltimore Inner Harbour for a truly

ghastly meal. I had no idea there were still Chinese restaurants which poured thick, gunky sauce over meat and called it cuisine. But, if the food is bad, the gathering is good. We then repair to the Baltimore Aquarium over the road and spend the next three hours in semi-darkness oohing and aahing over superb sea life. There is a considerable Australian section, beautiful rock formations looking very much like a gorge in the Olgas or Kakadu. There are assorted common parrots up there and lovely Aussie doves, some budgies and a “galah cockatoo”. There is also a big tank of huge barramundi which feature as a spectacular feeding attraction.

The aquarium, however, is a greedy place and it undermines its merit by overcrowding. We booked early online in a specific time slot believing that the attendances were controlled. Joke. The place is thick with families all of whom have paid the considerable $40 per adult and $25 per child entry fee and are entitled to enjoy the exhibits and not fight for a spot to get a glimpse. Most people are considerate of each

other in the gloomy half-light around the specimens but we all would have liked a chance to study the environments and look for the shyer creatures rather than keep on making way for others. My other criticism is of the keepers, or rangers, or whatever the animal hosts call themselves. They are mainly young women. They are possessed of hideous

strident voices and gaga patronising attitudes. The PA systems are muffled and the girls talk to hear themselves. While Izzy loves the dolphin display for which we had sat and waited 20 minutes, I am underwhelmed. The girl with the microphone gives us a long time-padding lecture on the environment before we can see the performance and then it is a training session. Can this dolphin follow this command or not? Oh, dear. Not. Let's try it

again. In the far pool, while waiting, we had noted that there are six other dolphins which are doing co-ordinated leaps and spins and all sorts. But in the main pool around which we are gathered for the performance, we have two animals in training. Hmm.

I promise to buy Izzy a soft toy from the souvenir shop at the end of our day. At first she chooses a shark but I am tickled when she spots the koalas and decides this is what she wants. Not that there are koalas in the aquarium, but I had given her some play Koala ears and a nose earlier in the day and had identified myself as her KoalaGran, so it is fitting.

And thus to farewells and that lingering feeling that it would be good if we all lived a bit closer.