So what does your husband actually do?

On a cold, wet, windy Friday morning, five bloggers braved the elements to meet each other.

There were sacrifices made to enable this blogmeet. I personally drove all the way from Melbourne's north to the southern bayside suburbs. Fortunately without too much whinging from the back-seat Cherub. Blue Mountains Mary came even further; that intrepid soul had to abandon her children and fly a thousand miles to make it. Boy were her wings tired. As for Fairlie, she was right in the middle of the Great Wardrobe Decimation, and you know how annoying it is to walk away from that sort of job. Poor House & Baby not only bared her breasts in public, she also had to find a makeshift bed for her infant son. Luckily she found a great one right on Blue Mountains Mary's chest but she couldn't have known that beforehand. Sheep's Clothing made possibly the greatest sacrifice, choosing NOT to play her weekly tennis game in the driving wind and rain so that she could sit inside a cafe and converse with the rest of us. The poor girl was forced to lie to her tennis team about why she couldn't make this week's game. Something about an unspecified "accident".

As for the junior blogmeet contingent, they handled themselves supremely well. The wee baby snuggled, smiled and charmed whilst the boisterous 4-year-olds played, shared, chatted, and ate. We think they were oblivious to the nasty shooshing they got from another cafe occupant (we suspect the cafe owner, and Stacey dubbed him Mister Shhh-y). They even shouldered photographic responsibilities. And had quite the chat about eye colour with each other - I think Master C may have been reading his mummy's blog?

A great time was had by all. A wonderful group of girls, good company, lots of laughs. The first time I had a blogmeet I was insanely nervous. Now I'm a veteran blog-meeter with no nerves to speak of. If I like the blog then I know I'll like the author. And I do and I did.