I Came This Way

Since it's taking longer to recover than I had hoped, I'm not posting a regular entry this week. Hopefully, I'll be feeling more energetic next week.

Green screening Road Art

This photo was taken in 2006. Someone working on a road crew left a series of these rock sculptures alongside the road. I figure they mean: I Came This Way. J and I went out with our green screen and took photos. The green screen makes it easier to remove the background from the image later and see the openings more clearly. But there's something complete about seeing environmental art in the environment. The rock sculptures are gone now, but I still enjoy their images and thought you might, too.

photo by J in JaM
post by M in JaM

Bugs in My Life

Mystery beetle in my hand.

I don't know the name of this beetle. Please let me know if you can identify it. I've never seen one like it. His coloured pattern and antennae delight me. I discovered him trapped in the bottom of the laundry sink. We rescued him from the sink and J took photos until the insect got tired of posing, took flight and disappeared. The next morning he was back in the laundry sink. J got some even better photos.

I ponder this propensity of critters, including humans, to return to the same, bad situation. Take me, for example. I'm back to having a gastro thingo, I've caught a stomach bug or something. It's no fun, especially since I just recovered from something similar. Being trapped in a laundry sink overnight wouldn't be fun for the beetle either, but that situation provided some interesting photos. I doubt the beetle cared about the silver lining to his situation, especially since the silver lining applied to me and J and not to the beetle, other than the side benefit of being rescued, of course.

Like the beetle, I'm not aware of a silver lining in my (health) situation.

Raw bison fibre

A sample of raw bison fibre arrived from Sandy Valley Bison in New South Wales. This sample shows a lovely range of colours.  I couldn't resist wanting some bison fibre even though it will be laborious to process the raw fibre by hand before even starting to handspin it. The down fibres are very short and I'll spin them on a supported spindle, eventually. This project is on hold until I'm feeling much better... maybe tomorrow.... yes, I'm an optimist.

J tops up petrol in generator's tank. Yes, we do keep the gennie in the dunny.

Some rain and a series of overcast days have meant that J must run the generator to keep the batteries charged as our array of solar panels can't quite manage it. However, we're having a remarkably dry January. That's given us time to get stored items off the floor of the Shed which sometimes gets damp during the Wet (one year water ran in one side and out the other). Together, we started shifting, sorting and making a pile for Toss-It Tuesday, then J carried on after I had to give up and lie down. He's one of a kind. And the Shed looks ready now for a late Wet Season.

photos by J in JaM
post and photo editing by M in JaM

One Day at a Time

Grevillea dryandri in bloom

What a week! Don't you hate it when health problems rear their heads, like Cerberus*, all snarly, snappy and insistent on keeping you from escaping? Just when you want to start the new year with high energy and you realise that's not happening? Or when you are unable to assist a loved one or a friend who has health problems? Well, sometimes such a crisis reveals more than problems. 

Daughter had sudden surgery (she's recovering well and feels, oh, so much better). After an overnight in hospital, she came home about the same time that I arrived to help care for twins. Twins had spent previous night with other grandparents, and it wasn't long before they arrived home, too. These two littlies walk all the time now. They are not just a handful, they are two handfuls (more, actually). At the end of the day we decided to have Chinese takeaway instead of cooking dinner.

The next morning food poisoning struck twins' father and me, but not their mother, thank goodness for the latter. I headed home before things “got out of hand.” I'm not sure I have ever felt so glad to arrive home, where I immediately collapsed on the couch, rising only to spew. I let J take care of me. I'm feeling fine now. Fortunately, the effects of food poisoning lasted only a day or two.

Daughter, who has the fortitude of an Amazon, managed to care for herself and her family. She's even sounding cheerful. 

These crises reveal to me that: the Future is in Good Hands.

Young frog still has tail.

*Hercules overpowered Cerberus without weapons....

photos by J in JaM

post and photo editing by M in JaM

What's the Plan?

We plan to get organised. J doesn't just plan, he leaps into action. He started sorting his small project parts into bins. I eyed my cluttered desk and walked around some areas jammed with stuff that might one day be useful. I know it's time to just let go of a few things. That's the plan.  

Life is what happens while you're making plans. 

Then I found myself organising to head to the coast to help care for my daughter and her twins for a couple of days. She is a bit under the weather. The twins show no signs of slowing down while she recovers. Their dad has been able to keep things in hand but must return to work. What a blessing to live close enough that I can lend a hand now and then. That's the new plan.

J's back started giving him grief before I got packed and I don't want to leave him on his own. My trip is postponed for now. That's the very latest plan.

Despite feeling the need for a plan, especially one for getting organised, I recall that we're in the middle of tropical slow down season. I'm feeling pretty slow. I've been enjoying a little knitting, spinning, listening to audible books and recovering from holidays.

I've also been feeling a tinge of sadness in the air. Sometimes one grieves - over personal loss. Sometimes one grieves - over failures to behave with greater integrity and gallantry, over forgetting "you are my other self."

I find going for walks and making things helps me get through low spells. I make things with my hands. I make blog posts. I make up my mind.

I have made no resolutions this year but one: I've resolved to take part in Toss-it Tuesday. I'll be tossing at least one thing out of my living space every Tuesday between now and end of April. That should kickstart my plan to just let go of a few things and get organised. Have you made a resolution or two?

photo by J in JaM

post and photo editing by M in JaM

Happy 2012!

Beautiful weather provides a lovely start to 2012. Thunderstorms abated after rains (130mm in seven days; that's 5+ inches) relieved the dry, hot spell of early December. Moon Creek is flowing. I can almost hear the grass growing.

Happy Christmas, 2011

Christmas Day dawned with beautiful weather,

a perfect day for our gathering. 

Good food, good company, good time.

What a treat to see grandchildren,

full of good energy and learning to walk.

Family connections spread across boundaries and prove resilient.

I also recall those special people gone from my life this past year and reflect with a smile on shared experiences of former times, treasures of memory. I recall friends and relatives living far away and smile again, considering with amazement the way love continues to expand. All the while, freshly minted memories pile up faster than I can shake a stick. May the year ahead bring each of you Happiness and Joy.

photos by J in JaM

post and photo editing by M in JaM

Season's Greetings

Busy as a Leaf Cutter Bee

Holiday preparations, enjoyment of Christmas Day and now recovery conspire with thunderstorms to keep us offline at present. We had a wonderful Christmas. We trust your holidays are special as well. Happy New Year.

Resolve to keep happy and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties.

--Helen Keller

photos by J in JaM

Goanna (aka Lace Monitor)

Goanna ornamenting our tree

We live in topical highlands where heat and humidity are less oppressive than on the tropical coast. I am a wimp when it comes to either high heat and humidity or very low temperatures. Like Goldilocks, I feel best when things are Just Right.

Each morning of summer, we throw open doors and windows to capture as much early morning cool as possible. As the day warms, we close up the house to retain that coolness. Fans stir the air as the coolness disappears. At the end of the day, when the temperature drops and darkness takes over, we feel torn between opening the house for cooler air and keeping the house closed against the multitude of insects attracted to any lights. We've switched to yellow lights for the summer but even those attract some insects.

Since we took the dog off her diet of mince laced with sulfites, she isn't reacting as frantically to thunderstorms. We've developed additional strategies to deal with her nervousness. She calms down a bit if we attach her lead to her collar and turn on classical ABC radio. She settles then at our feet. I usually settle down to knit or spin while keeping her company. J settles to ponder, pencil in hand, over his clipboard notes related to his online AI class or his latest project.

Recently, the three of us took up this familiar routine. Settling in. After a bit I stood up to go to the Shed for something. No worries. J and dog not disturbed. I opened the kitchen door, pausing as usual to scan the path for snakes before stepping outside. A large goanna paused in mid-stride only a few feet away, as surprised as I was. Big goanna! I yelped. The dog picked up on my tone and began barking madly. Goanna (3 feet long and 20 pounds) bolted for nearby tree (trunk 12" in diameter) and went up it in a flash.

An ancient war exists between dogs and reptiles, similar to the one between dogs and donkeys. Donkeys can hold their own, but I'm afraid roaming dogs give goannas grief. We don't see many large goannas. J restrained our dog and handed her over to me as he grabbed the camera.

The goanna looked safe up the tree. Then the birds noticed him. That's another ancient war.

Our friends upriver had goannas regularly dropping by their kitchen area for meat scraps (photo taken in December 2009). Look closely to see a hungry young goanna at the far edge of the step:

Hand feeding goannas is not recommended. Unlike your domesticated dog, the goanna doesn't distinguish between your thumb and a meat scrap. 

Another view of the young goanna at Goanna Tree Junction

What a treat in the lead up to Christmas - getting to see a large adult goanna up close... and feeling glad to know they continue to live in our area. Makes the world feel Just Right.

Respect the Claw!

photos by J in JaM

post and image editing by M in JaM