Bugs. Life is full of them. The good ones…
And the bad ones…
One bug’s not so bad. Thousands…? Not so good. Excuse me while I have a little itch just thinking about them.
Bugs are the bane of my summer living. I should be acclimatised by now, swiping them off my fevered brow without a second thought, but quite honestly, the feeling of one bug on my skin is magnified 20 times so that I begin to imagine I have stepped into some kind of Hitchcock horror movie, where I am eventually devoured. Yes, in terms of bugs, I am a little like the Princess and the
Pea Bug. Continue reading
I was talking with a friend yesterday, as we sat outside my house on the verandah in soaring 30 degree temperatures (yes, I realise this photo isn’t actually my verandah but is Bec H’s and that’s her in the foreground, but it’s so good I just had to use it anyway. Photographer: Dougal), and she mentioned having seen an ad for a bed and breakfast up north, promoting none other than ‘Sundried Linen’.
Of course, I almost choked on my iced water. “Sundried Linen”?!! Continue reading
Despite having only a few Christmas trees to select from in the paddock this year, I am very happy with the tree we were allocated sight unseen. And really, thank god we weren’t turned away at the gate (as were some. Reminds me of that Seinfeld episode with the Soup Nazi, who refused to serve some hapless potential clients, thus furthering his own popularity as ‘to be served’ signalled ‘to be good enough’. Not that we were ‘good enough’ – we just happened to have heard of the hail damage and so rang a few days beforehand to ‘bags’ a few trees).
In fact, this year’s Christmas Tree has enabled me, for the first time, to be glad we have a small house. Our tree, every year, is squashed into a narrow-ish space between the sideboard and the fireplace. This year the positive effects of such confinment means that the tree still looks incredibly luscious and full. Continue reading
We have, ummm, been celebrating the Christmas season since Halloween. This is not because we have been consumed by religious fervour (not much of that here. In fact, errr, quite the opposite), but because the only thing that would appease young Thomas from the disappointment of not being allowed to ‘celebrate’ Halloween (“no darling, we don’t live in America, we are not Americans, it is not our holiday”), was me agreeing to let him put up some Christmas decorations instead. Why not? Continue reading
For the first time, I read an email from Bec H with horror. She was starting up a vegie co-op with a difference. And it was going to involve me.
I’m sure Bec H won’t mind me telling you that It has long been a dream of hers to start a vegie co-op up here, as there are so many local producers. And really, take a look at her garden – you can gauge the level of her enthusiasm
(and now, take a look at mine. Even more sadly, you should know that I am enthusiastic too).
We don’t have a garbage bin with a green lid for green waste. In fact, I count myself lucky to have any bins at all. Still in range of the council garbage pickup, the line is however, drawn at green waste – which is really fair enough – after all, we have 50 acres to dispense of it ourselves.
So bizarrely one of the first things to greet you when you arrive at our front gate is a massive pile of ‘green’ rubbish. You’d think, with 50 acres, we might have chosen a less ‘in your face’ dumping spot. I mean, what a welcome. But in this case, convenience was the key, and that’s where the chopping occurred, so that’s where it got dumped.
And like alpaca poo (who all poo in the same spot in a paddock. I know this because my neighbours have alpacas), over a period of several months that pile has grown and grown into something quite fearsome.
So a month ago, we decided it was time for it to go. It was time for a bonfire. After all, did we really want to be looking at it during the fire ban over the next 6 months, every time we drove through the gate? Continue reading