Back in the saddle

Finally, finally, I am back in "the saddle" (my desk chair) again.

For the last few months I have written from a reclining angle in the Lazy Boy with my laptop balanced on my knees. Not very conducive to writing, and after awhile, I just didn't have anything positive to say.

I struggled with depression and confinement, and the overwhelming feeling of tackling a mountain of e-mails, and stories I wanted to tell and photos I wanted to download. So, prone to my flawed character, I did nothing.

However, during that time I have discovered Australian folklore, historical fiction, and poets, such as "Banjo" Patterson, who is the author of the poem that inspired The Man From Snowy River movie. I've also discovered some Australian movies. Some are interesting, but for the most part, have a lot to be desired. Call me a spoiled American for 'quality' I guess.

But, four months later, my back has healed to the point that I have cleared off my office desk in the last few days so that I can write again. I have a view of Buster the Bird in his large outdoor cage on the verandah to my left, and the Snake Valley Hills to my right, with my computer in the center. It feels good to be "normal" again, being able to sit upright in a chair and walk around, and even do some housework, which my husband is very glad of.

I must say here that Steve has been really great about the lot. Not too keen on ironing and toilet and shower cleaning, but I have discovered he is a great cook and I was spoiled with Aussie meals. Because he was in the Australian Navy for nearly six years, he is also really good at mopping floors. In fact, I think he should take that chore over from me. The issue is in discussion, haha.

In fact, my back has healed to the point where Steve and I have taken some road trips, and I came through with flying colors, although I had to rest a bit afterward. We went to the Murray River-side town of Echuca, which was a bustling place in the late 1800s and early 1900s with produce and wool from parts of Australia's interior making way to the sea, Gulf of St. Vincent, via Adelaide. We took a trip on the Paddle Steamer Alexander Arbuthnot, had dinner in the Bridge Hotel, refurbished from its heydey in the 1800s, and drove the 90 minute trip from there by the light of the full moon on some back country roads, headlights out. In fact, a kangaroo jumped out of the bush on the side of the road, and led us on a merry path, him bounding back and forth between the road edges for about two miles in front of us in our Land Rover Discovery. It was enchanting.

A few weeks ago, we made a trip to Brisbane on the east coast. Two days traveling there, and two back, and three days with Steve's niece and nephew-in-law, Jacqui and Andrew Gold. We had such a great time, and my back held up really well.

We went to Caloundra on the Sunshine coast north of Brisbane for a day, walking along King's Beach, where I saw men in "thongs" (here they are called g-strings, and thongs are what you wear on your feet. I averted my eyes and made noises which Steve thought were hilarious.) We had lunch at a sidewalk cafe with a view of the beach and watched a barge coming toward the harbor carrying shipping containers. As I gazed at the stacked railroad-size containers, totally uncovered and it seemed unsecured, I thought about my things that were shipped from America to Brisbane just a year ago. I marveled that all my household stuff deemed worthy of keeping arrived intact.

After lunch we strolled the tree-lined streets of an old portion of Caloundra, visited a used bookshop (I am so glad my husband is such a book fanatic like me), and enjoyed a Baskin-Robbins ice cream cone. This is the only Baskin Robbins store I have seen here, and Steve said he'd never heard of them outside of the States.

The following day we went south of Brisbane to the Gold Coast, which includes Surfer's Paradise, and I wasn't so impressed. There is a lot of American influence as it is a tourist destination. I couldn't help but wonder why Australians didn't stick to their own unique nationality and its influences. Although there are some things about Australia and its people that drive me mad for the most part (especially journalism rules) it is very unique...not a mini-America at all...and I have enjoyed learning about a new culture, and a new language as well. (More on that later.)

One thing that stood out to me was the amount of locals on the Sunshine and Gold coasts with really deep tans. I knew they were locals because we visited in "winter" (August) which is not tourist season. (A few Ballaratians tell me that the Gold Coast tan is unique in that it is so golden-brown and year-round.) I saw a few women and men jogging along the beach and noticed how wrinkled their faces are, even though the rest of their bodies looked smooth and tan. Not for me, thanks. Fully clothed me enjoyed the sun on my face, took pictures, and thought about how far away from my other home I am, and yet just across that vast Southern Pacific Ocean.

I really had a good time getting to know Jacqui and Andrew as well. We played the modern "LIFE" which was new to them, enjoyed going to a Belgian Pub for a beer and chips (thick, beer-battered steak-cut fries to Americans) in Brisbane after a City Cat ride down the Brisbane River and touring the Botanical Gardens replete with myriad tropical plants and trees. The air smelled sweetly of blooming winter flowers. City Cat is a catamaran boat system people use as transportation much like a bus or a taxi. There are various ports along the river that distribute people to their destination throughout the heart of the city for a nominal price. The four of us stood in the front of the Cat. With Steve's arms around me from behind and keeping me warm from the cool breeze, I marveled like a tourist at the views of the city edge, homes along rocky cliffs, and then skyscrapers dissecting the heart of Brisbane. I especially delighted in the sun on my face and my grown-out hairdo streaming behind me. (It's short again as of last week.)

We were in Brisbane for Father's Day, which is the first Sunday in September. Andrew's dad and mum live in the area, so the six of us met for a picnic in a park on Daisy Hill, which is also a refuge for koalas. That park in itself was an adventure. Families played Cricket or Footy (Australian Rules Football, which is a cross between soccer, basketball and American football), and hosted the Australian barbecue which is an art form by itself. (More on that later...geez I have a lot to write about.) Australians have barbecue perfected. Especially the blokes. Sheilas [girls and/or women] don't need to do anything but cart the stuff, along with salads, and to clean up, and look nice.

While we were there, I saw a kookaburra thrashing to death on a log an already dead string of meat stolen from someone's barbecue, two wallabys tentatively hopping out of the bush to nibble on grass near our picnic table, and a very young koala scamper down a gum tree, across a grassy area, stare at a barking dog and all the people gathered 'round, then climb another gum tree and hang precariously onto skinny, bending branches while sleepily stuffing gum leaves into its mouth.

Steve teased me about being so excited about the koala, but I pointed out that every Australian in the park was just as rapt as me and had cameras out to document the little critter. So there.

Last time I posted anything, we were in the frozen grip of winter in July. In August we had snow on and off for a few days (I live in the coldest part of the state aside from the Snowy Mountains.) But now springtime is arriving almost overnight, it seems. Even when we have frosty mornings, the days warm up nicely and I have noticed frothy pink and white apple, pear, cherry and almond blossoms on trees.

In the last few weeks, the overnights temps have been in the upper 30s or low 40s, and the days have been pleasantly warm, even if overcast and rainy. We've had a lot of rain over fall, winter, and into this brand new spring season, and some are saying that perhaps the 10-15 year cycle of drought may be over. Steve mowed our acre lawn on Sunday after church for the second time in one week, which is unusual...we can go a few weeks in between mowings. The air smells sweet and clean, and our two rain tanks are full...they feed our house water system rather than being on town water. The rain water for drinking is so much sweeter, and I have already noticed a difference in laundry and shower water, especially on my hair. The pollution here in the country (about 90 minutes away northwest from Melbourne, which is also dubbed 'the Big Smoke,') is very low. Gum (eucalyptus) trees are blossoming, as are the wattle trees with brilliant yellow flowers against a backdrop of stunning green leaves. Bushy plants in my yard are flowering and attracting bees. The sun rises earlier now with daylight savings time only a week away, and the pre-dawn air is alive with kookaburra laughter, blackbirds, wattle birds, honey-eaters, sulfur-crested cockatoos, galahs (including our own Buster), magpie chortles, and the high-pitched songs of red and blue rosella parrotts. This is my second springtime here, and I find I like it very well.

Anyway, photos to follow, hopefully to compliment this blog, and on my photoblog, heidisphotos, which can be accessed from here.

Again, loved family and friends, sorry about the delay and lack of communication from me in so long. But I am back in the saddle, and will likely bore you all with frequent postings and e-mails henceforth, and reminders to check my blog. Thanks Jason, my son, for encouraging me to post again after such a long time away. Your note spurred me into action. I love you heaps.