Throwing hat in

The old saying, 'throw your hat in the door' has relevance today.  I haven't posted here for over a month!

 

Last year I purchased a new washing machine and early in May found out that the particular brand, and model, had a problem.  Some were going on fire!  Needless to say I hurriedly emailed the makers, and am now awaiting a repairman to visit to fix the problem.  In the meantime instead of just putting the washing in and flicking a few buttons I need to check for the smell of heat or the presence of smoke!  Certainly puts a new complexion on washday.  Next week the problem will be solved and I will no longer need to keep a careful watch on the machine.

 

Instead of dry wizened wide outdoors we now look out on verdant green, and oh, how easy it is on the eyes.  Other Half is sawing wood for the fire, and we no longer swelter in sticky heat.  Winter is a much preferable season in this part of Western Australia.

 

 

With the cooler weather my crafting enthusiasm increases ... perhaps I am less frazzled!  Over the past few days I have made some glove puppets for my littlest grandson.  There is a picture on my other blog here .

 

Now to cast my mind around for another project; I have a plant in a pot that needs breaking up and planting out.  You may have guessed that gardening is not something that I have a talent for, but I do like a little colour in the garden during winter.  The nasturtium seeds I planted have 'taken' though there are some misses ... one wonders what creature lives in the ground the fancies nasturtium seeds to supplement its diet?

Bus Stop

We all know bus stops; some offer little shelter, others are havens to while away the moments until the bus trundles along.  I have waited for a bus, or should I call it a coach, where no shelter prevails, and have stood waiting in a shelter wondering if the driver, or captain if it is a coach, will actually see me waiting.

Our nearest town has two coach stops; one outside the Information Centre which is where tickets can be purchased, and the other two or three kilometers along the route. 

This second stop is in the busy marina precinct and has a shelter blending into the landscape, that at first I hadn't realised what it represented.

The shelter is the shape of an upturned dinghy and draped along the uprights that separate the dinghy from the seat are various crustaceans that provide a distinctive seaside flavour.  When I cast my mind back I don't believe I have spied a potential coach rider sitting on that seat; perhaps the octupus and lobsters are a deterrent?

 

 

 

This bus stop must be unique?

 

 

 

 

hot or cross?

Easter has been and gone.  It is rather sad that the meaning of Easter has been lost in the great egg/rabbit/chocolate 'buy-up'.  Our radio station had some lovely coverage at Easter; many folk phoned in with their version of some Easter traditions. 

 

Of course hot cross buns were mentioned.  Now I love hot cross buns ... at Easter, not from Boxing Day until Easter.  I got to thinking [it has been known to happen] as to how hot cross buns came about.  I know about the cross, but ... is it a 'hot cross' bun, or a hot 'cross bun'?  We had quite a discussion about that little conundrum, and as happens when folk have time on their hands, the discussion enlarged to the emphasis put on phrases, and how the meaning is altered.

 

Over the years my old adversary, Meniere's, visits without invitation; and recently decided to invade my head space.  I place some blame onto the air flight in February, but when suddenly, on Thursday, my head did a flip, dizzily dancing around to the stage where I thought I would fall to the ground, Significant Other took me to outpatients.  A girl of wisdom years cannot be too careful!  Blood pressure = OK, ECG = OK, pulse = still working, so the concensus was 'Meniere's, and medication prescribed. 

 

A couple of days of lethargy and sleep leave me feeling slightly improved today, but while the symptons resembled previous attacks, I have a feeling that somewhere along the way I may have been in contact with a viral infection as well.  Once one is on the mend, there is only one way to travel ... up!!

Snakes

Having only lived in Australia a short time I have not yet become enamoured with snakes.  This morning a radio interview with a 'snake catcher' proved fascinating listening.  This gentleman captures snakes from homes, sheds and other places where they are not welcomed by human habitation. 

 

As I noticed a small snake wriggling quickly over the paddock just two days ago I pricked up my ears.  What if that snake came indoors?  I think I could bang pots and pans loud enough to frighten it outdoors again; that is if it hadn't time to hide under the furniture.

 

There was one glimmer of hope.  Evidently if blue tongue lizards, or bobtail lizards if you live in another State, love snake eggs.  We have blue tongue lizards!  They spend a lot of time around the house in spring.  After hearing the radio talk I am assuming [and I do know that when one assumes he, or she, makes an ass out of u and me ... but that is pushed to the back of my mind in this instance] that our friendly blue tongue lizards hang around solely to keep the snake population down in numbers.

 

Holiday over

For the month of February, when Australian summers are at their hottest, I journey back to my home country, New Zealand, where it seemed that their summers were cold!  I must have acclimatised more than I thought.

 

Flying from Perth to Auckland overnight is not too bad as NZ is 5 hours ahead of Perth, making my arrival time less daunting that it sounded.  Customs in Auckland; a mad dash to the shuttle bus to the Domestic Terminal, and an hour flight south took me to Christchuch where second eldest son was waiting.  Needless to say my first request was a coffee followed quickly by a short sleep in an effort to get into the new time zone.

 

Christchurch is still a mess; empty blocks of land where once tall proud buildings stood, buildings in the process of demolition, or repair if not too badly damaged, and roads that had more ups and downs than would be considered safe under normal circumstances.  My son took me for a tour of some suburbs and his driving, usually circumspect, is now 'for the circumstances'.  He swung all over the street [if no traffic was approaching], and assured me that no action is taken as driving on the correct side can result in accidents.  Needless to say I took no photos!  Poor Christchurch, one a beautiful garden city is now in a state of improving chaos.

 

Next a bus trip south where I spent a few days at my favourite place, Hampden, a small seaside village where life tootles along, where I read and relaxed, and wandered the beach to make a visit to the Moeraki Boulders, a natural phenonomen that attracts tourists from across the world.  I placed my shoes on top of one.

 

While wandering along a lane at Hampden I discovered a yellow cherry-plum tree with branches laden to almost the ground.  This brought back pleasant memories of the cherry plum jam my Mum made [last century], and the slow laborious task that picking out the stones became.

 

Another bus trip south, this time to my old home town where several shop fronts were only that ... shop fronts.  Empty shops ... another sign of the times for a rural town.  I caught up with my youngest son, his 'other half' and their 2-year old son, who is now a character in his own right.  I last saw him when he was about 6-weeks old! 

 

Then a short journey north to a cousin who lives closer to the airport gave me a few days of wandering around the area where my parents spent their youth.  We did go for a walk to a nature reserve where I managed to capture a photo of a Fernbird, a photo of which my cousin assures me, is not common. 

 

 

 

The trip home was uneventful, and now I am once again home ... and pottering around, which is what home offers best.

Back home

After spending three weeks in Perth we are once again back home ... thunder storm with impressive sheet lightning and tremendous claps of thunder that echoed around the landscape, followed by 9mm of rain did nothing to cool the air.  Today it is hot, and humid ... one drips incessantly!  Roll on Autumn.

 

Unfortunately several states of Australia are experiencing a heatwave of the bush fire variety, with Tasmania being extremely hard hit.  It is difficult to visualise a fire roaring across the terrain leaving a trail of destruction, but that is what is happening.

 

A trip into town this morning produced a pile of mail ... Christmas all over, but as we were not home, this was in fact part of Christmas.  Rather nice in fact to come home to parcels to unwrap, presents to ooh and aah over, and cards to open.

2013 ... here I come

The beginning of another year sees me working along the lines of more regular blogging.

 

We are not at home, but in Perth, house and dog sitting while eldest son and his partner, and his daughter, visit NZ, where I am certain a lot of catching up is going on.  Meanwhile Cassie is assured of a morning walk!

 

A quiet night; I didn't see the new year in.  By the almost silent neighbourhood it would seem that neighbours went elsewhere, that mysterious place that simply does not appear on any map, though the weather forecasters reliably inform us daily that there is rain or excessive heat there.

 

Summer in Perth is hot, we have the air conditioning running all day, and whilst staying away over night at the weekend witnessed the utter stupidity of some senseless souls ... a bush fire raged a few blocks away, homes were threatened, and the freeway was closed for several hours due to smoke.

 

This morning another bushfire [once again seemingly deliberately lit] is making its destructive way through a nearby suburb, albeit in the bushland surrounding a lake.  Senseless indeed!

 

Dog is resting in her bed, other half is resting on the bed, and I have dishes to attend ... a light lunch and a mini pavlova topped with cream and fresh raspberries for desert.