These are two places I have rediscovered since Magoo graced my life with his awesome presence.
I have rekindled my love for these places because I no longer just go there with thirty odd small, unpredictable people, a bunch of their even more unpredicatable parents and a whole sack of responsibility.
(Gotta love school excursions.)
Now I go with Magoo in tow, maybe catch up with some friends and as all those parents with more than one child know all too well (and love to tell me)- one on one is sooo manageable.
There's something I absolutely love about wandering around Perth Zoo.
The place chills me out completely.
Maybe it's the animals in all their 'got nothin to do today' glory.
Like the otters - they've got quite the life.
Bit of swimming, some sunbathing, back in for a dip, have a natter, another dip, bit more vitamin D...
A coupla cocktails and they're living the dream, baby.
I'm also partial to a hour or so at our local library, where they have an area specifically allocated to jumping and rolling around on large cushions.
Well, that's what Magoo seems to think, anyway.
Who am I to argue? It's not my couch and most certainly not my cushions.
Something about the library puts me in the chill zone too.
I move slower, talk quieter, sit lower (damn little people chairs) and breathe (nice and quietly too.)
So, last week the rains came and one afternoon we headed for the refuge of the library.
Aahh. It was dry, warm, not home.
While I picked a couple of books for myself
(shock, horror - sorry. I know I'm a Mum and should do NOTHING for 'me' anymore)
I told Magoo he could choose a few books for us to read together.
He was stoked to be unleashed on the picture book area after graduating from the baby board books department recently.
So, I returned to hear Magoo chattering excitedly about the 'airpwane' book he'd chosen for us.
A non fiction chapter book chronicling in full detail, with images, the happenings of September 11.
I gently persuaded Magoo that there were much better aeroplane books to be found on the shelves and he moved onto his next book of choice...
A melancholy picture book titled 'In My Pocket'.
This book told the story of little Jewish children evacuated from their families in Germany prior to World War 1, riding the kindertransport and crying at the unfamiliarity that greeted them after their travels to the U.K.
Once again, I gently persuaded Magoo that there were much better train books to be found on the shelves.
After finally reading a true children's book about some cheeky monkeys and their hi jinx, we high tailed it home.
Slightly depressed and heavy hearted.
Wondering how terrorism and the holocaust got all up in my face in my 'chill zone' on this rainy afternoon. How had my library escape become so heavy?