Rain and more rain, filling up the tank

Well, I don't know what happened, but the story and the pictures got flipped on this post, and I don't know how to fix it. Bear with me! Story at bottom.

Our newest 5,000 gallon rain tank arrives. Steve is on right.

Coming through the gate to our paddock, just clipping the blooming wattle tree that is a home to myriad parrots.

Going past the verandah.

Pushing into place next to existing 5,000 gallon tank and a smaller, 2,500 tank in the middle.

Timber!


In place.

Steve hooking up system.

Working man.

Nearly done.

Ducks enjoying major rain puddle near fenceline with neighbor's house.

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!

Victoria was inundated over two days with rain, cold wind, and winter-like conditions. And this is summer! While everyone marvelled at how strange the weather was, I rejoiced! Steve and I went Christmas shopping in busy malls where live bands played carols in open areas, Christmas tunes were piped into stores, and we dashed for cover from wind-driven cold rain. Even Steve got into the spirit of things and whistled seasonal ditties. In two days we had three inches of rain. It broke weather records, and I was happy.

After the rain tapered off, the weather stayed cold. We've had frosty mornings, with early temps in the low 40s, daytime highs struggling to reach high 50s. The south wind is nippy, and the woodstove is blazing away, even as I write on this chilly morning, all rugged up in my warm trakky daks (Camas athletic sweatshirt and jogging pants.) More of the same is expected, with temps warming up a little into the low 70s, and showery weather patterns through Christmas Day. After that, the forecast is HOT. I'm praying the cool holds out just for my benefit.

But another benefit to all this rain is that our new 5,000 gallon raintank filled up. Despite the respite, Australia is still in drought...it will take a few years of "normal" rainfall to catch back up. As a result, our house has two 5,000 gallon rain tanks and one 2,500 tank. Steve has plumbed the house for rainwater so we're off the local water system. We can get back on if needed, but I hope we don't.

Several houses in Australia, except for cities that struggle with air pollution, are on rain water or well systems. I never knew water could taste so good. The way the system works is that rain is diverted off our house, shed, and garage roofs into the tanks, where a filter is set up. I wondered about bird poop and bugs and dust entering the system, but Steve explained that it's set to catch rain after about 10 minutes of a good flush, so most of the junk just gets pushed through. It's still filtered, however, and I've yet to come across gunk or bugs.

Next big project? Installing a windmill. And you probably think I'm joking.

Hahndorf, South Australia

Steve and I celebrated our second anniversary on Nov. 24. He whisked me away for a surprise stay at a circa 1870 bread and breakfast cottage in Hahndorf, South Australia for the weekend.

I can't even begin to tell you how gorgeous the place is. I took lots more photos than are posted here, but this is just a taste of what we experienced.

A little background: Steve's ancestors on his father's side migrated from Germany to Australia in 1848 and settled in the Barossa Valley, just north of Adelaide. Hahndorf is one of the original German settlement towns, founded in the 1830s. My background is also German, and my ancestors on my father's side traveled to Chicago, Illinois aboard a ship from Germany in 1854. Both of our German ancestral families escaped religious persecution. Interestingly, his mother's English family also migrated to Australia at about the same time and settled near Adelaide. However, my English side of the family through my Grandma Wallenborn came to America in the 1600s, settled in Massachusetts to help establish the new colony, fought in the American Revolution and then moved on up to Maine and worked in the lighthouse at Owl's Head.

Anyway, we enjoyed a short weekend, about six hours drive from where we live, immersing ourselves in German culture and cuisine. We stayed at historic Elderberry Cottage, surrounded by lush gardens (remember it's springtime here). The cottage was made of stone and had three rooms: the kitchen/living area heated by a large fireplace with an antique polished wood mantle, the bedroom with an ornate brass bed with feather mattress and pillows, and a bathroom with shower. Because the house is on a rainwater tank system, showers are limited to seven minutes if we wanted hot water. Otherwise, there was a 55-minute wait for more hot water! We are frugal with water anyway, so there was no problem.

We spent most of Saturday in the old Hahndorf section with its preserved buildings. The place was hopping with tourists and travelers. Christmas shopping was in full swing, and we spent way too much money. On Sunday we visited artist Hans Heysen's home. He is famous for capturing the Adelaide area in watercolors and ink. We purchased some large prints to take home and have framed.

We also visited a German pub/restaurant for dinner one evening, and I thoroughly enjoyed my first real bratwurst and saurkraut since leaving the States. Steve tried his first soft pretzel and mustard, then proceeded to steal mine. However, he introduced me to a German pastry formerly called a Berliner...stuffed with jam and whipped cream and coated in sugar. We split one...my form of sticking to a diet, hehe.

Everywhere we went there was German music and locals and visitors speaking German. It was almost like we were transported to that country. The weather was perfect...some rain, some sun, cool and very comfortable. When we retired to the cottage in the evening Steve lit the fire in the massive fireplace and kept us warm while we sipped complimentary port in tiny glasses. Also, bed and breakfasts here are not like what I expected. The hosts stocked the fridge with bacon, fresh eggs from the resident chooks (hens), homemade bread, apple struedel, orange juice, full cream milk, quince jelly and lime honey for us to make our own breakfast. It was very private and homey, and I want to go back and live there forever.

Some photos:

An old barn from the early German settlement days on the property where we stayed. The roof is hard to see because it's made of corrugated tin, which was (and is still) common, and is catching the late morning sunlight.

The living room of Elderberry Cottage. Fresh roses and fragrant star jasmine from the gardens in the floral arrangement in the vase.

A roasting pig on the street in Hahndorf. The cook was amused that I had to have a photo. I said, (in my best American accent) that I'd never seen something like that before. He was very good-natured.

Nixon's Windmill. What's left of it, anyway. It was one of the first structures built near Hahndorf and part of the original property where we stayed. Steve remembers this as a landmark from his childhood when his family traveled from Keith to Adelade. Keith is about two hours away, and they lived on a cattle station there that his dad managed.

An old school now turned into a museum. I have no idea what those mounds are. They look like termite humps from northern Australia near Darwin. But they're not.

The German Arms hotel, an original. During World War II, the place was raided because of its name. Authorities thought that Germans kept arms (weapons) there.

Horses and buggy, downtown Hahndorf.

Historic Hahndorf.

Historic Hahndorf.

German/Australian architecture in Hahndorf.

Large German steins complete with canned beer for sale. We bought two just for posterity and a laugh.

Old German pipes in the museum. Picture not good quality, sorry. I thought of my son, Jason, and his pipes.

I had a giggle at this sign. I asked Steve..."So they bowl senior citizens here? How far do they roll?" He just looked at me and shook his head.

Elderberry Cottage gardens.

Front of Elderberry Cottage.

Thanksgiving 2008

Australians don't do turkey. And, by and large, they have no idea why Americans celebrate Thanksgiving.

First, I had a turkey challenge on my hands this year with my decision to host a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for a few close friends and Steve's three children.

Last year, Steve and I were busy preparing to travel to the States in December to celebrate the Christmas season and to meet our new grand-daughter, Breighlynn, who was just six weeks old. But I pondered the idea of a Thanksgiving meal anyway. But after realizing that there are no turkeys available, just the occasional legs, wings or roast, I gave up the idea. And I was too tired, too busy, and a little depressed at my first Thanksgiving away from my own family. So I scrapped it.

This year I planned ahead, and with no holiday excursion in sight, dove head first into preparing my first Thanksgiving celebration in Australia. We invited 14 people, and I called my local butcher.

"Could you get me a 20-lb turkey in a week or so?" I asked him.

"Well..." then silence. Thinking that perhaps he didn't understand pounds, I explained that it's roughly 10 kilograms.

He hesitated, asked for a few days to look around and said he'd get back to me. When he did, he said he could only find one about four kilograms...about 10 pounds. To an Australian, that's a big bird. I said I'd take it, and asked about another, but at $30 per fowl, I decided we'd make do with that.

I also discovered that there's no such thing as Crisco, Jello-brand, mini-marshmallows, French Fried Onions or Cool Whip. I improvised, except for the Crisco, which I had just enough left to make pie crusts, and I ordered other things from a USA Foods shop in Melbourne. No Cool Whip anywhere.

Guests arrived, bearing mashed potatoes and gravy, pre-dinner nibbles, wine and soft drinks, and settled into watching me scurry around the kitchen. It lifted my heart to hear laughter, Aussie yarns, and good-natured fun. I had to laugh though as I pulled the beautifully browned bird out of the oven and handed it over to Steve to carve. He'd never done that before. His daughters came over, looked at the turkey and asked, "What is that?"

Because all the fixings couldn't fit on the table, I lined up all the food on the bench (kitchen counter) and everyone served up buffet style. Hardly a scrap was left on the turkey, but there was plenty of other food. I was gratified to hear "mmmmm," "this is so good," and requests for recipes of all the strange food to an Australian palate.

I read a history of Thanksgiving for our guests, and Steve read George Washington's proclamation of Thanksgiving Day. Afterward, we followed my family tradition of everyone around the table giving thanks for something in their lives. One of the guests said what a great idea to have a nation set aside one day a year to give thanks to God for his blessings, remember where we've come from as a nation, and personally, and that our prime minister should take notice.

Our guests stayed for about five hours, enough time for darkness to fall and Steve to turn on the Christmas lights that he painstakingly put up a few days earlier. Of course, we meandered outside into the cooling night air after a very warm, humid day to enjoy the lights and watch the stars come out.

Menu: Pre-dinner nibbles of celery stuffed with cream cheese, curried stuffed eggs, various shelled nuts, and toothpicks crammed with pieces of pickle, cocktail onion and cheese, (all courtsey of Denise), crackers and various cheeses supplied by Steve's son, Luke, turkey, stuffing with heaps of veggies, some apples, and dried cranberries thrown in, mashed potatoes and gravy courtesy of Anne, candied yams (a recipe from my step-mom,) Grandma Wallenborn's pretzel salad improvized with raspberry Jello and fresh raspberries, green bean casserole with French Fried Onions, bread rolls, whole cranberry sauce, sweet corn on the cob and pumpkin and apple pies, a novelty.

I have to say that despite the absence of my family and the strange, non-autumn weather, this was one of the best Thanksgiving celebrations I've ever had. I am thankful for new friends, a new country to live in and experience, and the love of a good man who has taken me into his care. I truly have a lot to be thankful for.

Some photos:


Table for 14. We had one no-show, so the extra setting was for the "unseen guest." Steve and I combined my six-seat American dining room set that was shipped from Battle Ground (on the left), and his eight-seat one. This photo is before the carnage.


My microwave oven wasn't big enough to help thaw our 10-lb. turkey, so Steve came home with this surprise on Thanksgiving morning, a very big microwave/convection oven. Ours was about 1/4 the size of this one. Nice!

Steve carving his first turkey.

Some of our guests. From left, Pam and George Lingard, the top of our white-haired pastor Tom Buscombe, his wife, Anne, Rose and andrew Berkin, Luke (Steve's son), and Steve's daughters Tegan and Stephanie.

Group shot minus Tegan (didn't want her picture taken) and Stephanie (taking the picture), then me, part of Steve, and Denise Jones in bottom right corner.

Andrew and Rose, Denise, Anne, George.

Tom, Pam, and Conrad Jones.

Tom liked his first pumpkin pie with lots of whipped cream.

Our Christmas house, lit up on Thanksgiving day. Notice my blooming geraniums at the top of the steps? It's nearly summer.

Looking toward sunset.

View from the west. Steve did a beautiful job.