Wagtails: empty nest syndrome

We arrived home from our three-day break, all tanned (OK, not really) and relaxed (OK, not really) and with piles of washing (really!)...

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And I thought, while I was unpacking the small mountain of dirty clothes and wet towels and gritty swimmers:

1. I wonder how the surviving wagtail chick is going?

2. I wonder if he is fully feathered up yet?

3. Or maybe even flying?

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So I looked up at the sticky-taped nest...

And saw...

An empty nest!!

I am sooooo hoping that it was YES to my third question.

So I hereby sack myself as the Aussie bush version of David Attenborough...

He would NEVER have left his post to swan off to the beach, mid-story.

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Jeez Louise...

I'm gonna miss that little ugly bird, peering groggily over the edge of that raggedy cobwebby sticky-taped nest.
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So Leslie's students: would it be possible that the chick learned to fly in just a couple of days?

Otherwise I am looking very closely at Middy's middle.

Hmmmmm..

A break at the beach...

Last weekend, SSB, Dash, The Little Woman and I packed up the Prado and vamoosed from Granite Glen.

Not for good.

Just for three-and-a-half days.

(Can't forget the half day. It all counts!)

It was our much-anticipated, long-planned mini holiday.

It was a chance, not just to take a break from the endless tasks and early mornings (OK SSB's early mornings!) that working on a cattle property entail, but also to catch up with our city friends. While regular "weekends off" were an accepted part of city life (in the decade or so that we called ourselves townies) our friends have been great in realising the rareness of our breaks now, and fitted in with our schedule to rendezvous at a beach side town to catch up.

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Dash had even promised us a sleep in...

"If I wake up first, Mummy, I'll just watch you til you wake up!" he offered.

Sweet. In a very strange way!
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Our holiday units are at the same place we went whale watching from last year. We love it as it is not too far from home (usually less than a four hour drive), there is plenty for the kids to do, the surf is small and shallow (great for littlies) and lots of take-away restaurants to fulfil our 'exotic' food cravings. The place we stay has no passing traffic, is right on the beach, and next to the Marina.

The marina always fascinates me. I cannot for a moment contemplate the thought of living on a boat (I am as claustrophobic as all get out) but the collective landscape that is a marina is amazing. And pretty photogenic! Even the bird life arrange themselves artistically...

And the walk to the marina also offers me a chance to do a family portrait "with a difference"!

Who is that woman with a lump on her right hip? Oh... that's me. Hello!
Dash and TLW had a blast, with yabbying and fishing from the beach and pier rating high on the "Can We, Can We Dad?" daily agenda. Unfortunately for SSB, this cry began about 5.15am each day. Dash quite forgot about his holiday promise. The potential program of activities was just too exciting for sleep. Poor Daddy!

I loved that the other Dads in our party all joined in the yabby-hunting and kid-entertaining fun... we have some great guys in our group of city friends. All are henceforth nominated for Fathers of the Year.


The Yabby Pump was pumping in earnest... and the yells of Got one! echoed across the beach.



Hello little yabbies... quite a haul of bait!


All the boy-and-kid action left us girls time to catch up on many months of gossip, and also take ridiculous photos of ourselves...

It's a mermaid, it's a 25 foot high pinhead, it's Bush Babe!



And as it got blustery, one of our friends broke out that time-honoured beach side holiday toy... the kite! I'd forgotten how much fun they are.
You too?
Here's a reminder....

Fun fun fun!!

Need some help TLW? You look like you'll blow away!

Our mate Andrew to the rescue! A double nomination for you!

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But as the shadows lengthened each afternoon the cry for the fishing rod rose above the whistle of the wind. Time to bait that hook SSB.

Good job Dad!

(Man those hands on hips tell a whole story, don't they?)

And my late afternoon view, of our girl against the forces of nature, restored my batteries like no amount of much-yearned for sleep could.

Sorta. Suddenly my 6.30am starts look like bliss after all!

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Look out for my "keeping it real" story later this week!

It wasn't all beachside bliss.

I Once Met a Man - Tommy Emmanuel

Debby posted an amazing clip of a gifted American guitarist on her blog today... took me back to my journo days. I was 20-something (almost two decades ago) and wide-eyed, armed with a heavy black battered Nikon, a notebook and lots of enthusiasm. I worked for a small paper in rural New South Wales at the time, and spent my days mostly dealing with used cars (and associated salesmen), football (and associated players) and various pillars of the community (and associated Mafia associates!).

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Then one day, a young guy called Tommy Emmanuel came to town. I had heard vaguely of him, that he was a pretty amazing guitarist, and that he was holding workshops for kids in our town. I walked into the hotel lobby where he was staying to interview him and watch him work with kids. He was lanky with an easy grin and a laidback manner. Kids surrounded him and his worn-looking guitar, shuffling in anticipation. Pushing back his floppy hair, he hunched over the wooden instrument, eyes closed and suddenly intense in his concentration.

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To say I was blown away by what he did that afternoon would be a serious understatement. His enthusiasm for his art was something to behold (matched only in my experience by the inimitable Steve Irwin). His whole body was involved in his playing, and his expressions verged on the comical as he shared his talent with us. Within a minute though, I was hooked. Transported to another place as this man showed exactly what a guitar CAN DO... I actually forgot to take photos I was so transfixed. And that NEVER happens...

But don't just take my word for it...

Here is the great Tommy Emmanuel and Guitar Boogie.

Let me know what you think??

BB

Afternoon aromas... and city hissy fits!

I was looking forward to a lovely afternoon filled with good vibes and much oral anticipation.

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After sorting the Granite Glen house out in the morning, washing a mountain of clothes and doing my best to ignore the smokey haze of the grass fires lit by neighbours (and my Dad!) I'd showered, dressed the kids, piled everyone into the car, kissed SSB goodbye (he voted to stay home and mow... and I wasn't arguing too loudly!) and driven off towards town. I had promised him some Thai takeaway as a treat for his hard work around the house. We had also invited neighbours on the promise of a curry smorgasboard.

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One thing you need to understand is that the towns we live near are small and pretty self-sufficient. But exotic takeaway has not been an accepted option - hamburgers and fish-and-chips and pizzas, yes. High quality authentic Asian curries and stir fries, not so much. Then last year the local cafe began offering Thai food, cooked by a talented Thai lady living in the area on a farm. We make the most of this treat when we can - she is only available one or two nights a week which rarely co-incide with our rare trips to town (a 100km round trip). But this day would offer us this tasty chance.

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We traversed our dusty roads towards town and arrived at a farm with the most beautiful gardens. The kids and I joined Nana anda hundred or so other women (and a few brave blokes) to "do" afternoon tea.

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It was an Down Syndrome afternoon, with many familiar faces milling around over cups of coffee and some outstanding cakes. I have a very soft spot for DS kids (and adults) - having done numerous stories on individuals and events for the newspapers I worked with. And then when Dash was in hospital having his little heart fixed up we had met many families with DS kids having very similar surgeries. (Down Syndrome often includes heart problems such as holes in the heart). The delightful man who opened our Goodwill Games has DS, and is quite inspirational.

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The kids ran riot in a sandpit and bouncing castle. Vast quantities of coffee and cake were consumed. And much money was raised for this extremely worthy cause. We left feeling almost high on goodwill, the kids tired but happy and me with tastebuds tingling for our Thai takeaway.

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Filled with anticipation, my mouth watering at the thought of the fabulous green chicken curry, light-as-air spring rolls, delicious Pad Thai noodles... I turned into the main street almost delirious with the prospect of our exotic meal.

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You know what I found?

An empty street.

Echoingly empty. With every door shut tight.

Closed signs in every single window.

Including the cafe...

Noooooooooo!

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I drove around the back of the shops in the hope of finding someone getting ready to open. Nothing. The disappointment was crashing. What now? It was almost six, and too late to cook at home. The kids were getting ratty. So I sighed, girded myself, and headed for the servo.

Fish and chips it was. Nothing against fish and chips... but honey, it ain't authentic green chicken curry if you know what I mean!

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So calming cranky kids with chip offerings on the journey home, I muttered to myself about the injustices of living in the bush. At least in the city I could have driven five minutes to the NEXT curry shop. My tastebuds would have been appeased. I was also not looking forward to disappointing SSB and our guests...

*mutter mutter mutter*
Then I looked out the passenger window.

And saw this.

And this...

And this...

The muttering slowed...
and ceased.
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Right.
Back in perspective.
City hissy fit over.
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Postscript: The fish and chips were great, the garlic scallops SSB cooked up from stocks in the freezer fabulous, and the company that night, awesome. And I complained NOT ONCE about the smokey aroma of our laundered clothes!

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PPS Apologies to subscribers for the unedited rough draft of a future post I am considering, sent into the internet world accidentally last night. Please delete it. I promise a much better, more polished version next week sometime. And in the meantime, I promise not to try and type straight into blogger when I am overtired... hint for other blogging greenhorns: don't hit enter twice too quickly. It can cause the air to turn blue!!

:-)

BB

Punters, Elections and Winners in General

It seems that races are commanding attention from one end of this world to the other.

As America hurtles towards it historic elections (Tuesday their time) we threw down our (proverbial) tools to pay attention to that most Australian of events: horse racing. Celebrating three of the most admired things in our nation: sleek athletic animals, gambling and revealing fashions.

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Today (our time) we celebrated the Melbourne Cup at Dash's tiny one-teacher school. Despite the heat and lack of air-conditioning in our venue (under the school) we all frocked up and punted like wild things on the "race that stops a nation".
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And while Viewed took out the Melbourne Cup by it's nose hairs...

... at the very glamorous Flemington Racecourse,

we supped chardonnays in the most refined of drinking vessels..

And received our bets on post-it notes from our resident bookie, feasted on barbecued sausages and steaks with coleslaw and took our sweep tickets for $5 a pop...

We admired the Fashions on the Field on the concrete pathway beside the school...

TLW was beside herself when she took out the Under School Age Section with her two-sizes-too-big hand-me-down-gown and a new cowgirl hat. In readiness for the epic Hobby Horse Derby, Dash sported his "jockey" outfit consisting of pajama pants and black socks - his mother's idea of a "jodphur look", a black cap and a Hawaiian-style shirt to complete the red-and-black colours! Go you good thing!

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Our little 'jockeys' participating in the local Hobby Horse race went under the auctioneers hammer ...

...is this not the cutest jockey you ever did see? It's Dash's mate Mada.

The Calcutta auction for the Hobby Horse Derby was a riot - with each student coming up for their turn, and parents attempting to 'buy' their little jockey in spite of certain other parents putting sly bets in to up the ante. The running description from our very imaginative auctioneer went something like this:

And here we have that renowned local jockey Mada. He hails from out west of Granite Glen and is used to the hard running. A feisty little runner, he is considered a stayer with an excellent finish. This is one bet worth your money ladies and gentlemen, do I hear fifteen dollars?

And this is Mada's Mum, my friend Elle...

Isn't she gorgeous??

Her hubby Harv took out the Best Dressed Bloke and they were totally the most glamorous family at our event! And they were also the most put-out financially as 'friends' bid against them for their two little jockeys. I could hardly see the auctioneer for the tears of laughter blurring my vision.

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The steeds in the Hobby Horse Derby were pretty entrepreneurial too...

This is Dash's cousin Rosie posing with her Gumboot Galloper. (It's marvellous what a gumboot, a ribbon and some felt can achieve...my SIL is very creative!)

And here they are in action... coming down the straight! Not all appear to still be on board their horses but it seems to matter little. They were cheered from first to last, and spectators adored every second of it.

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And I cannot help but wonder...

Did racing purists and fashionatas the Flemington racecourse have as much fun as we did today?

And as the news channels hit overload with re-runs of the 'real' Melbourne Cup and the American elections , I hope that punters* in every corner of the globe get as good a return on their bets as we did today.

Here's hoping your horse ran true today... and your candidate hits the finish line first!

*Punters: gamblers or people participating in an event generally. (Will add this one to the Lingo List shortly!)

Bush invaded by shellfish!

We live inland - about three hours drive from the nearest salt water.

One of the things SSB and I have had to adjust to (after moving here from a beachside locale) is the scarcity of seafood.

Or rather the scarcity of seafood my husband will accept as edible.

SSB likes his seafood FRESH and REFUSES to eat seafood more than an hour's drive inland. It's his golden rule.

Seriously.

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The man is a foodie and soggy prawns just don't do it for him.

Our son, who was tube-fed for the first year of his life, is a different matter.

Despite having the worst kind of eating issues as a baby, he appears to be making up for lost time in a big way. His appetite for new foods is astonishing. Amazing. Breath-taking. Fan-freaking-tastic.

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In a strange and horrendous twist of fate, his little sister (who has no physical problems whatsoever) is the pickiest eater in history. OK, maybe not history. But the chances of getting new or unusual foods into her mouth are small. Remote. Almost non-existent. Her menu is cereal and butter sandwiches and spaghetti. It's just not fair (wails her pathetic mother in a quavering voice). She couldn't be surrounded by people more into their food. But she will not be influenced by anyone else. Her stubborness is legendary. I just wish she would use it for good instead of evil! Heh.

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Anyway, the seafood van (filled with frozen ocean delicacies) made a special trip to Dash's school last week. It sent my son into a frenzy. Dash became obsessed with getting something from it. Obsessed, I tell you. We heard nothing else ("Can we, can we, can we?) until SSB relented and said:

OK. One meal. But not fish. Something else.

Dash was ecstatic.

And this is what he chose...

Crabs.

Sandcrabs. Three of the orange shellfish.
Is it just me, or do crabs become very odd looking after about a minute of staring at them?

It's those beady eyes!

Dash thought they were fantastic. Amazing.
See sister? This is a c-r-a-b.

This is a nipper. It moves. Yah!
But it won't hurt-cha!


See - I can pick it up even. Wanna try?

*touch, touch, touch, touch*
*poke, poke*
*scratch, scratch*

Hmmmm...
(Oh My God. She touched it! Step one along the tortuous track of getting it to her mouth.)

Oh, would you like some CHEESE with that shellfish?
(Cracking myself up here folks!)
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So SSB, Pagi, Dash and I saddled up at the kitchen bench for a meal of crab, salad and crusty bread rolls.
Messy but simple but delish!
Dash ate some and declared it "pretty good".
I relished this little taste of the beach - a wee holiday for my tastebuds.
Pagi ate until his sides almost popped (there was too much, but he couldn't waste any!)
Even SSB enjoyed. Quietly. Of course.
And TLW? Bread rolls are apparently delicious.
Ah well. Four out of five ain't bad.
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BB question: What is your favourite seafood and why?

Snapshots of our minds

I had the most amazing conversation with Dash on the way home from a friends ...

it was just he and I in the car, at night.

We were both tired and mostly silent on the drive towards Granite Glen along our dirt roads.

Then he piped up.

Mum... can you take photos?

Well yes, I said.

No, no... not on a camera... in your head?

I thought for a moment.

Yes darling. As a matter of fact I do. All the time. Do you?

He smiled in the dark.

Yup.

That answer wasn't enough for me. I am always composing and framing potential photos as I drive by things. I cannot stop it. It's just the way my mind works. I think I have always been a photographer, with snapshots in every view I look at. It's distracting sometimes. But was Dash talking about the same thing?

Like what exactly, Dash?

Well, he said, like people who are important. I have one photo in my head of you, one of Daddy, one of my sister and Pagi and Nana... and sometimes there are two people in the photo. Like (cousins) Sal and Mitch are together, and Sal is jumping up high. I don't have room for everybody, so some have to share.

I was amazed. But it got better.

And you know, they sit in a pile in one corner of my brain. Just here (pointing to his left temple). And I can get any of (these photos) and look at it any time I want.

Damn near brought tears to my eyes.

Lucky it was dark.

My little blond boy (who resembles me none in looks) is just like me...

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And then I thought about my little guy and my big guy, and the snapshot I carry in my head.

Wanna see? It was taken during Dash's first paddock ride (outside the safety of the yards) on Lacey this week...

My mental photos have a zoom function too...

Ahhh. That one is definitely locked in the top part of my mental image pile.
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What about you? What images are in your mental snapshots?