I had no idea, when we first got chooks, that I’d get so attached. That I’d get so used to having them around. That I’d chat to them as I gardened. That I’d laugh at them. That I would enjoy holding them, stroking their silken feathers. That I’d love them so much. That I’d miss them so very much when they were gone.
Forgive me, it’s been several years since my last blog…
Ironically, as Bec H was blogging last week’s post seasonal homage, the skies were making up for their post apocalyptic summer fever with day after day of rain.
Seizing our chance, we took advantage with a bit of boogie boarding down our stream which hasn’t been running for a couple of years. The cows were keen to join in. Continue reading
This summer just gone was the hottest summer I can remember. Never before do I recall willing on Autumn like I did in February. And never before have I had the strains of Gang Gajang’s ‘Sounds of Then’ running through my head so often, wearing musical grooves into my brain.
Out on the patio we’d sit,
And the humidity we’d breathe,
We’d watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.
For me, no other song conjures up so perfectly the feel, sensations and experience of our hot summers. Pure association, I guess. Continue reading
** In a sad note today, we have heard the little boy passed away peacefully this afternoon (Wednesday Nov 25). There are no words, except to say we are thinking of him and his family.
With my four-year-old at a not-for-profit community preschool, I sit – not very well admittedly – amidst a wonderful preschool committee. Not so long ago – about 8 weeks ago actually – our committee heard about the sibling of one of our preschool children. The seven-year-old had once attended our preschool but was diagnosed with cancer early this year. Now, after several months of treatment, they stopped it. It wasn’t working.
I wonder at the power of empathy and if humanity listened to it more would the world be a better place? For myself, after I heard the news I would just start crying at odd times. I have shed tears all over the place, and I don’t even know the family. And it wasn’t just me.
It very quickly became obvious to us all that we had to do … something. After all, though nothing could fix this, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps there is some small comfort in knowing that your community cares.
So, the preschool committee kicked into gear and this is the result. Continue reading
The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.
There’s something intrinsically satisfying, for me, about watching my garden grow. I acknowledge gardening is not everyone’s cup of tea. For many, it’s something to be out-sourced along with the annual tax return, but I love it. I’ve come to realise that it feeds my soul.
(WARNING: no pics. Just thought you should know, as apparently all highly successful blogs should have pics. BUT there is riveting, action based video).
Speaking of meat (oops. Bec H started that conversation 3 months ago… Nonetheless, I take mine medium rare thanks), Dougal and I recently enjoyed our first date night in… in…, actually I’m not sure how long it has been, but it has certainly been a long time (I read about those couples in magazines who say ‘they make sure they have an evening to themselves once a week/once a fortnight/ one a month/ once every six months, with great astonishment. Who manages to DO that??!!).
Date night came about because my parents were visiting for a week, so it was then or never. Not quite ready to opt for ‘never’, our first night plans dissolved into exhaustion, as a day in the paddocks fixing fences in the rain led to us piking. After another day in the paddocks (at the end of which we discovered we had been fixing the wrong fence, let’s not go there right now), our window of opportunity was quickly shrinking so we somewhat reluctantly, but determinedly, set off on a dark, cold, rainy Wednesday night, for a 35min drive to Taree. Continue reading