Gift shopping

This morning we headed north to our larger shopping centre.  In my handbag I carried a list, one side groceries, the other side presents.  For once I was able to purchase all on my list!  That alone is a minor miracle as so often an idea flits into the mind, buy this or that, for one particular person on the list.  Too many times the item is simply not available [perhaps I did see a similar thing five years ago?].

When making out the list my mind wandered back to the days of my youth [not yesterday!]  How gifts chosen differ from last century, and what a choice in the shops today.  My Mum sometimes received a pair of slippers.  To a modern miss slippers appear mundane; not to a busy country woman of several decades ago.  They were epitome of relaxation.  Putting on a pair of slippers after a long day of chores ... washing, ironing, and cooking without the aid of electricity; digging and planting a vegetable patch to supply the family with vegetables for much of the year, though I must add that my Dad did plant potatoes in the paddock.  The art of potato growing, moulding up, digging and bagging up was a family affair.  No-one was too small to help.

Slippers were luxury, pure and simple.

Today the shops are full of appliances, shiny and wonderful; gadgets that one needs to read the instructions before using.  Not much relaxation there!

Not forgetting Dad.  A good book, or a pipe [a no-no today], but they both represented relaxation as well. 

My bestest Christmas present ever was a jigsaw puzzle.  I was about ten years old and a new aunty chose a jigsaw with a picture of an olde cottage with roses around the door as a gift for her niece [I cannot recall what gift my brother received].  Once the box was opened and all pieces tipped onto the floor I had to puzzle out exactly what was to happen next, never having seen a jigsaw puzzle before.  By pushing them around the dawn of an idea grew ... the funny pieces fitted into each other.  From that moment on completing a jigsaw puzzle was easier.  And there was a reason why that particular aunt gave me such a gift ... I often stayed with Aunt and Uncle in school holidays, and as Uncle was on the tramcars he sometimes worked a late shift.  Aunt and I worked on a jigsaw!

Today as I wandered around the shops jigsaw puzzles were scarce on the shelves, slippers away until winter, pipes ... well smoking is bad for your health did you not know ... and even books are harder to find in shops.  All around electronic gear, shiny and bright clutter shelves ... how do many of them work ... I have no idea.

It did seem that relaxation has slipped down the ladder of gift buying ... 'tis a sad day for human kind.

Wildlife Week

Now that warmer weather has arrived sun-loving creatures appear.

Living, as we do  in the country, or as Aussies say 'the bush' [though why I have no idea as this is a cropping/grazing area] wild creatures frequent not only the outdoors, but inside as well. 

Over the past week a series of creatures has invaded our daily lives; albeit creatures that are welcome to share our space.  They provide amusement and education.

Blue-tongue lizards, or known as bob-tail lizards by some, wander around outside as soon as the day warms up, often clambering over the mat, up a small step that is the sliding door, before exploring the house.  Strangely enough, while I do not like snakes or spiders, or ants or flies, these little fellows are amongst my favourites.

The lizards are always on the lookout for a tasty treat, be it a moth that struggles under continual bashing against the ground by the lizard as it seeks to render its next meal helpless, or a piece of tomato dropped to the floor 'accidently on purpose' as one of the five vegetable daily intake recommended by nutritionists.  The tomato proved almost as difficult to control as the struggling moth; unfortunately I had left the skin on!  Blue tongue crunched the tomato end finally softening it enough to swallow.

Another lizard, smaller and considerably shyer than the blue-tongue, appears to have a home under an old refrigerator.  Some days it sits on the concrete pathway, no doubt easing its limbs in the warmth.  That it sat still long enough for me to pick up the camera was almost a miracle.

Last but not least our tawny frog-mouth family that successfully [after much difficulty and drama] raised one chick have reason to be proud.  Sometime during last night the little one, who I have named Bambino [what else?!] fledged.  This morning on the first of the many daily inspections, Eggsitter and Bambino were no longer in the nest.  Twisting my neck to the left there in another low branch of the neighbouring gum tree the family perched, parents on either side of junior.

Another camera opportunity!

'Tis the season

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: Ecclesiastes 3:1

Summer has arrived with all its attendant risks; namely bush fires.   While I may [mildly?] complain about raking leaves yesterday a vivid reminder of the reason why made itself obvious.

We went to the northern city on a minor shopping expedition, and is our normal procedure we headed up back roads where, one hopes, the lunatic driver would never consider spinning his tyres.  Significant Other has a two-way radio in the vehicle giving us a blow by blow account of major, or minor, incidents that occur on the highway.  Some of these conversations are amusing as 'comments' between drivers of the many road trains keep alive the obvious camaraderie between the converyors of our daily needs.  At one stage several drivers asked about a fire.  

It became obvious that a small grass fire, alongside the main highway, had not only been noticed, but was under control.  Many farmers have a 'fire appliance' as part of their plant ... this could be as simple as a water- tank on the back of a ute ... just in case of need.

We shopped; nothing exciting ... groceries etc and travelled home;  the temperatures warm [37°], blustery winds skating seed heads of wild radish across the highway like frightened rabbits. 

However, upon switching on the radio [to catch up with the latest news or 'perhaps news'] bush fire warnings were being broadcast regularly.  A bush fire, that began as a 'controlled burn' in the south/west of Western Australia had gotten out of control.  The fact that a controlled burn was undertaken at the end of winter, which is the normal time for a controlled burn; a time when a burn can be kept under control; had escaped and was causing havoc.  This morning we hear the dreaded news; at least 19 homes have been destroyed.

There are many questions being asked as to why the burn took place; there are folk living in the Margaret River area who do not know if their home will survive should the strong winds, forecast again for today, turn the fire their way.

I note that the strong winds here have distributed another carpet of leaves that need raking.  This is an ongoing task, one that is hard hot work on a day when the temperatures are in the high 30's.  There is a reason for raking, and the season is ... always.

Bush Fire Preparation

Spring is a season of variations; this spring is extremely variable.  Spring is also the time when householders should clear litter from around their homes as one precaution to avoid the devastion of a bush fire destroying property.

 

This time last year when returning from an outing we noticed more than usual vehicles on 'our' road, which is not the main highway.  In the distance a wisp of smoke curled upwards ... a bushfire!  We soon found out that the bushfire had blocked the main highway, hence the upsurge in vehicles on the secondary road.

 

Spring this year has been wet; compulsory fire-breaks along boundary lines are growing again making the risk of a fire in summer a greater risk.

 

While boundary fire-breaks are made with tractor and slasher or plough other precautions are essential.  My self appointed task is the raking of leaves; it is endless, and when flies are plentiful [one never reads in glossy tourism pamphlets the trials one experiences re flies and other creepy crawlies], and the sun shines from a blue, blue sky, and rivulets of perspiration drip from the raker's face and neck and clothes cling to the body like a suit of clothes three sizes too small, this task is simply a chore.

 

We have a lawn in winter, and with luck it only needs mowing four or five times a year; the rest of the year outdoors is a carpet of sand with a splattering of twigs and leaves that fall at the slightest zephyr of breeze onto the sand.  For one who has spent most of her life in green New Zealand the sand, flies, and never-ending fall of gum leaves can become rather depressing.  Raking those leaves helps ... I guess it could be on par with disposing of unwanted 'whatever' one dislikes the most!

On an average 'raking and barrowing' day I can remove a dozen or so wheelbarrow loads to the bonfire that can only be lit in winter, and then with a goodly supply of water on hand ... just in case it spreads to the surrounding paddock.

gum leaf litter

clothes line area cleared two weeks ago

leaves on bonfire

My life in Western Australia is a 1000 times removed from my previous existence in New Zealand, and there are days [when the flies are bad, the mosquitoes are biting, and snakes slither hither] when I close my eyes and imagine that safe greeness of New Zealand.  Then in an Australian winter when temperatures seldom fall below 12°, and family in New Zealand report snow and hail and ice, I am grateful for what I do have here. 

If only those leaves only fell in one season, not all the year around!

Ice

With the warm weather only a whisker away this morning, time has been spent raking leaves ... this is an endless, ongoing task; one that I tackle when visitors are expected, or when the hot days of summer and the bush-fire risk aids urgency.

Admittedly I had raked the leaves into bundles a couple of weeks ago, and had not got round to it, but overseas visitors expected early next week added urgency.   There is a song here in Australia, one of the lines being, "Give me a home among the gum trees'.  We live among the gum trees, they shelter us from excessive sun and storms and in return drop dead leaves with the slightest zephyr. 

While wheeling the barrow to the 'heap' I yearned for a block of ice to quench the thirst, and reinvigorate the enthusiasm.  Suddenly a memory from my primary school days scrambled from the corners of a cluttered mind ... one word sprung to mind ... Ice.

In my youthful days few households had a refrigerator.  How did you keep food cool and fresh I hear you ask!  A Safe; a cream and green metal safe that hung under the weeping plum tree on the back lawn kept food safe from attack of flies and the gentle breeze wafted in keeping food 'more or less' fresh.  I daresay there were some occasions when it didn't work, but my Mother, mindful of the fussiness of her two children, never advertised those moments at the dinner table!

We never had a refrigerator, indeed as a child our home did not have electricity!  And that will leave you with a million questions as to how ... when you know no other way it is easy.

I lived in the country, travelling by bus to a school in the town.  Country children took cut lunches, buying fish and chips or a pie once a week; town children went home for lunch.  A bus took those, who lived on the outskirts of town, home, returning them 10 minutes before class.  Us Country Children did not envy those Town Children at all;  exciting things happened in the lunch hour!  Knuckle bones, pick-up-sticks, skipping, annoying boys playing marbles ... all the usual happenings of the era.

But, come a hot summer day [a little like today] and the Country Children crowded the bus stop for the return of the Town Children.  Because ~ some brought a preserving jar full to the brim with little blocks of ice which were dished out to 'friends'.  On those days the Town Children had more friends than ice, but the secret was to be close to the bus when the door opened!

Today I made do with a glass of cold water, followed by a swig of a popular sports drink, as per doctor's orders;  dehydration in the Australian warmer weather when one is raking and shovelling is almost as bad as death, except there is a return! 

Writing

Last night the radio station we are always tuned into ran an interview with Lynda LaPlante bringing back memories of my life in New Zealand.

The Library, a donation by Andrew Carnegie, stood on the corner at the other end of my street.  Reading has always occupied much of my spare moments, and when a busy Mum of five children I mastered the art of reading and peeling potatoes, at the same time.  OK, sometimes a little skin was left on the potatoes but I have it on good authority that the skin holds many vitamins.  It was not inattention that resulted in zebra-like potatoes, but my thirst for knowledge, or escape from potato peeling.

There was a time when I had read everything [I was interested in] book on those shelves.  The librarian, a woman half a decade younger than me suggested I read Lynda LaPlante.  Mmmmm ... I picked a couple off the shelf and read the blurb.  I put them back on the shelf.

Why?

For a start her name put me off ... quite a high faluting name, and her topics were of little interest.  I looked for other authors.

Sorry Lynda LaPlante, I misjudged you, though I still don't think I will read your writings ... I like a gentle escape from this world of seemingly [according to the media] increasing tensions.  But Lynda LaPlante, you are a delight.  Your hour on the radio was a hoot ... you have researched your topic to grass roots, and your sense of humour shone through. 

Is there a moral to this little tale?  Maybe, maybe not ... maybe never judge a book by its cover?  Or an author by her name!

Great Endeavour

James Cook, Captain of the Endeavour, mapped much of the coast of New Zealand in 1769 and in April 1770 his second in command sighted Australia.  Part of the east coast of Australia was mapped ... and as they say the rest is history.  Both New Zealand and Australia soon saw British settlers ~ New Zealand and Australia became part of the expanding British Empire.

Move forward to the present time.

In Fremantle, Western Australia a replica of the HMB endeavour was constructed and commenced her maiden voyage in October 1994. 

Yesterday HMB Endeavour was open for viewing at Geraldton, and in spite of a gloomy dank day we drove north to take a look-see [it was grocery buying day as well ... you know the old saying, killing two birds with the one stone].

The Geraldton port provided safe anchorage for the Endeavour replica for almost a week in weather was not typical of the mid-west of Australia.  While the Endeavour was open for viewing we did not board this ship which in its heyday of discovery and voyage in the south seas carried a crew of 72 plus animals.  At first glance this ship looks no larger than many of the fishing boats or pleasure craft anchored alongside.  To think that such a ship sailed from England to the South Pacific, discovering new lands and following the Transit of Venus!  In comparision with the luxury liner that called in at Geraldton two weeks earlier, and which was too large to anchor at the wharf, the Endeavour looked like a dinghy.  While the queue to board the ship was not that long, due no doubt to the weather, Dave is tall, and space in the Endeavour is 'limited'.  Photos taken in driving drizzle had to suffice.

As Captain Cook and the Endeavour played a huge part in the subsequent settlement of Australasia a look at the replica of the ship was an educational experience, giving a new slant at the deprivation of the sailors who crewed the original ship, though one must mention that due to James Cook's inspired knowledge the scourge of scurvy did not occur.