Saturday, January 31, 2009

35 things (updated with Steve's list)

I'm stealing an idea here...

I read my son and daughter-in-law's blog where they have each posted 25 things about themselves. It was funny, and enlightening, and inspired me to do the same. Except that I had some more. I wonder if I can get my husband to contribute.

Anyway, about Heidi:

1. I love to have a good, hearty laugh, even unto tears.

2. I enjoy studying the Bible, its history, and watching God's plan for mankind unfold.

3. I love my husband, foibles and all. Underneath a tough Aussie bloke exterior at times, there is a sensitive, caring man who loves me and wants to make me happy.

4. My children, and granddaughter, and daughter-in-law are my life's blood to me.

5. I love adventures, good and bad, as they are all fodder for writing. If there's an adrenaline rush involved, all the better.

6. I love words, and expressing myself, and my outlook on life with them. As James Michener said, "I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with the human emotions."

7. I hate that I cry whenever I express deep feelings, good and bad, out loud.

8. I love to cook for someone who loves to eat, and to throw a good party for lots of people.

9. I like a clean, organized home, but want someone else to do it for me so I can write.

10. I am interested in books about Holocaust survivors, English royalty, real life in past centuries, especially regarding women and how they cope. My latest interest is the Gold Rush in Alaska.

11. I am fiercely loyal to those I love.

12. I hate spiders. Especially the "bite-you" kinds, which are prevalent in Australia.

13. Snakes give me the willies. Especially the "bite-you" kinds, which are prevalent in Australia.

14. I like to dance...fast and slow.

15. I love music that makes me want to dance and shout and sing along loudly (even if I'm off key a bit.)

16. I procrastinate horribly. The bane of my existence.

17. Soaking in my spa tub with fragrant bubbles, candles lit and a glass of wine is heaven on earth.

18. I miss my friends and family in America more than they will ever know.

19. I go for looooong drives by myself...to pray, to ponder, and sometimes I don't know what I'm doing. But at least after two years of living here I know where I am going, and on the correct side of the road.

20. I'm not a confident person. I second, third, and fourth, etc.-guess myself a lot.

21. I hate hot weather!

22. I love Christmas-time and all the trappings that go with it.

23. My favorite clothes to wear are a sweatshirt and jeans, which is not possible in this hot Australian summer. I wear whatever is comfortable.

24. I want to be appreciated for who I am, foibles and all.

25. My favorite flowers are roses, gardenias, fuchsias and geraniums. I DON'T like carnations. (A bit of past angst here.)

26. I love four-wheel driving on Australia's bush tracks. The steeper and rutted the better. I laugh in glee, and Steve seems to enjoy making me squeal.

27. There's no thrill like riding on the back of a motorcycle on a beautiful day.

28. I'm a people-pleaser.

29. I can't stand dishonesty.

30. My favorite foods are Spanish/Mexican (which is hard to find in Australia) and Chinese (which is easy to find here.) My son made me a potato skillet dish once after he returned from Spain that I long to have again. It was delish. Perhaps he and Naomi will make it again when they visit this winter (June/July). Hint, hint!

31. I love good movies that make me laugh and/or cry, and leave me pondering for awhile.

32. I love Australian bush camping...bring in own water, shower standing on a mat of gum tree bark with a water bag slung across a branch, with no one else around, and even digging a "long drop." There's nothing like a good cuppa tea from a billy on the boil.

33. I hate rote platitudes that people say when there's nothing else to say. Why not just keep quiet and give a good, strong hug, a cuppa tea or coffee and just listen?

34. I miss newspaper writing. Not necessarily for The Reflector, but I miss having my finger on the pulse of a community and knowing everything and everybody, and keeping up-to-date.

35. Hallmark cards almost always create a lump in my throat, and I feel silly for that.

So there. Probably not much of a surprise, and maybe more than anyone wanted to know. If I can get Steve to contribute, it will be in a day or so, but I wouldn't be surprised if he only contributes 10 answers. So I've made up for his. He's busy either fighting fires, on call to answer a suspected fire emergency, or in an airplane looking for fires, like he is today. So check back. If not, oh well. He is an Aussie bloke. :)

And if he isn't able to contribute, I will do so for him. Hehehehehehe. Number one would be "I like to fart." That's a warning I suppose. LOL

About Steve:

1. My wife likes "certain things" as much as I do.

2. I love fighting fires.

3. I love flying.

4. I love sailing.

5. I love driving off-road, four wheel drive, and hearing my wife laugh as we thunder through the bush. And then, a cup of billy tea off to the side of the track.

6. I love to hear the sounds of the desert in the morning...birds, insects, etc.

7. I love a quiet, warm, summer's evening on the verandah with a glass of champagne with the companion of my heart.

8. I like to work and to provide for my family.

9. I love helping others.

10. I enjoy being a part of a community organization.

11. I like good, simple food. Spicy Thai food.

12. I like my pet galah.

13. I like chooks (chickens).

14. I love the way that my wife makes me see what I see, differently.

15. I love my wife. I like to amuse her.

16. I like wondering and finding what's over the next hill.

17. I like bringing home bugs and buried "treasures" from work for my wife.

18. I enjoy the wonder of creation.

19. Trying new things adds to the enjoyment of life.

20. The smell of a newborn baby is like nothing on earth.

21. I believe that the innocence of children and the wisdom of old age needs to be experienced and pondered on.

22. I try to learn from others' experiences, yet seem to be hell-bent on experiencing them myself.

23. A fine wine, a good conversation, with a great woman...that's my wife.

24. I enjoy the smells of life that bring back great memories...wattle blossoms in winter, summer roses, the smell of the earth after a summer rain, and freshly mowed lucerne; the sound of rain on a tin roof.

25. I love the lonely sounds of a windmill bringing crystal clear water from a deep source. There is a long, mournful note of a steel rod drawn through a steel pipe as water is drawn up from a deep bore. A thump, the whirring and sighing of blades, the hissing of water entering a corrugated iron water tank, the mournful repeating of an endless cycle.

26. I often leave my wife speechless. (for oh so many reasons)

27. I like running around the house naked, and outside if I can get away with it.

28. I like creating things with my hands.

29. I like imagining, planning and thinking about the future of fun things to do with my wife.

30. I go all melancholy when I see the ruins of farmhouses and other countryside houses and wonder about the lives led by people who lived there. The isolation, the loneliness, the broken dreams, and wonder why it was abandoned.

Friday, January 30, 2009

It's record-breaking HOT

No matter how I try to wrap my mind around the fact that it's late January, not late July, I am usually surprised by the actual date when I see it on newscasts, in the newspaper and on incoming e-mails. There is a mental startle, and then a quick remembering that I am not in a summertime California or sultry Northwest summer. I am in Australia, and although Christmas was only a little more than a month ago, it feels like ages have passed.

Victoria has been experiencing the worst heatwave in a century. A newcomer, it's hard for me to know what's normal and what's not. My first summer here in January 2007 was "the hottest, most humid summer" in these parts in two decades as locals said, but it was broken up with periodic, spectacular thunderstorms. On those hot days I laid down on cool tile floors in my skivvies in our rental home after my chores were done.

Last year wasn't so bad. There were some hot days, but by and large, nothing that stands out in my mind except for the hot day we celebrated Australia Day on Jan. 26, but then that ended in a fabulous, cooling thunderstorm. We were in our own home by that time, not the rental with tile floors. This home has air conditioning. Thank God.

Up until last week, we've had a handful of hot days...usually two at a time, then back to pleasant 70 or 80-plus degree afternoons which, on average, cooled off to a pleasant range from 45 to 68 degrees overnight. In fact, a few over night temperatures were in the low 40s, and daytime highs struggled to reach 60 degrees. Only two weeks ago I had a fire in the woodstove for a cold day and wore my new Washington State University sweatshirt, a Christmas present from my step-mom Sharon and dad. I'm told that's a normal summer in the area that we live in.

All that was thrown out the window this week. We are into our fourth day of HOT, where the temp soars to 90 degrees by 9:30 a.m., (right now it's 11:30 a.m., 101.3 degrees and rising) and tops out at about 110 by 8 p.m. The sun sets at about 8:30, and only then does the temperature start to drop. At 9 p.m., the temp was a sweltering 104 night before last. Last night the low was 98 degrees at 10 p.m., and 77 degrees by this morning. Needless to say our little air conditioner that cools the middle section of the house is going full-blast by 9 a.m. The other rooms that don't get the benefit of the cool air are stifling, and the doors are closed. There is a standing floor fan in the room that I write in, and at this moment it's on high, cooling my wet head after a cold shower. We have a portable air conditioner that fits into a window, and last night Steve moved it into our room. He came home from a Country Fire Authority (CFA) meeting at about 10 p.m., found me sweltering in bed, trying to sleep. He touched my skin and exclaimed, "You're hot!" I could have taken that as a compliment, but I was too miserable. It was still more than 90 degrees outside. So the kind man brought in the air con and left the ceiling fan on high.

When I lived in central California for about 16 years, I was used to non-stop heat for at least four months of the year, where days were over 100 degrees, nights were balmy and sleep was interrupted by mockingbirds all night long. But being raised until 11 years old in mostly soft Northwest summers, and then moving back there at age 28 until just over two years ago, I guess the "used to it" part of me got lost in the mix. I'm not used to it anymore.

Weather forecasters are saying this is the longest period of heat in a century, and temperature records are breaking all over southern Australia. Adelaide had it's hottest day in 70 years, hotter even than "the Alice" (Alice Springs) in central Australia desert outback, which was about 15 degrees cooler. Perth, on the western coast and notoriously hot, was cooler by about the same.

The only things that aren't dropping in the heat are bush flies and spiders. Walking into the work shed the other night to retrieve frozen steaks out of the freezer, I was greeted by loud buzzing from literally hundreds of flies escaping the heat. Later that night as I ate dinner, I was greeted by a "baby" Hunstman spider (as big as a teacup saucer rather than the dinner plate size of an adult; and yes, I am taking poetic license here, but they ARE big) who tried to share my meal. I nearly knocked my plate onto the floor in my effort to escape. A few hours later after a cold shower I found a white-tail spider (a bite-you) on the wall and did away with him by sucking him up into the dustbuster.

Melbourne (90 minutes away from us) is in the midst of the hottest, driest streak in 103 years. The famous Australian Open tennis tournament at Rod Laver Arena this past week had its share of problems as well. Court temps reached almost 140 degrees, and (to some people's angst) authorities closed the open roof to give relief to the spectators and players.

I went for a drive yesterday afternoon...what a mistake. I think I got heat stroke just from driving. I had the windows open in our Land Rover Discovery to smell the baking gum trees emitting their fragrant oil, and for the wind to toss my hair about, 'cause I like that. But as I drove along a flat plain, the strong, hot, north wind felt like a non-stop, out-of-control blast from a furnace as there were no trees to block its path. That hot wind literally took my breath away, and I gasped for air. It was 105 at that time, and I can only imagine what the wind pushed it up to... (sort of a reverse wind chill?) I shut the windows and turned on the air con and headed for home and a cold shower after about 20 minutes of that.

So much for an adventure to gather writing material.

Needless to say the infamous Australian wildfire season is well underway, and Steve has been busy. Most of the wildfires have been in the eastern part of the State in the Snowy Mountain ranges and other, smaller hills and state parks. As I write, there is an uncontrolled wildfire raging about two hours northeast from here, and has been going for three days. At last count, there are 74 tankers, and 11 strike teams on site. (Strike teams are specialty groups of about five to seven firefighters.) There are also multiple firefighters not on strike teams onsite. Steve is ready to go as a strike team leader should they call his brigade. He's been doing this for more than 30 years. Meanwhile, there have been several spot fires he's been called to, and his pager goes off fairly frequently. Unfortunately, there are some people who take advantage of this hot weather and prank call for false alarms. The nature of any fire station is to respond to anything...and that means sometimes Steve makes a 20-minute trip into Ballarat at 3 a.m. only to discover it's a false alarm.

There has been no rain in more than a month; although there was a cool morning with wet fog last week, it wasn't enough to wet grass, scrub and trees to protect it from fire. And when eucalyptus trees catch fire, it's really bad, as they practically explode from oil in the wood, and the stringy bark floats away to catch other parts of the forests on fire.

What a mess.

And so...the forecast continues HOT through next week, and I am considering myself a fire widow for the time being. As there is a Total Fire Ban across the state (which means no coal or wood-fired barbecues, no using power tools or anything else that could spark) Steve and his work-partner (son Luke) can only work so many hours, only inside city limits, especially in this heat. He took the day off work yesterday and spent it relaxing with a John Michener book "Space" in a bean-bag chair inside the air conditioned fire station ready to go if they had a call. He came home for dinner and took me to the local restaurant/pub so I wouldn't have to cook in this heat, and then after taking me home was off to a regional CFA meeting with Cookie (Bill Cook) the captain of the local fire brigade. Steve appears to be the favorite next in line for captaincy when Bill retires early this year.

Anyway, here I am. To those of you considering a visit to wonderful Australia, don't come in January or February, or even March sometimes, unless you like HEAT. I feel sorry for the children who start a new year back to school this week. Their summer vacation was half of December and all of January. Steve says he remembers that hot summer only really began when he started school at the end of January in rooms that mostly didn't have air conditioning.

Wish I was enjoying a mid-winter afternoon with my family and friends! But I can't even think of a steaming decaf, non-fat, sugar-free, hazelnut latte at this moment. It makes me too hot.

But then again, this gives me fodder to write, and to share a new experience with you all.

Steve just called to inform me that power will be shut down for Ballarat and the surrounding areas (which includes us in Scarsdale) before 6 p.m. today to conserve energy. He's going to the gas station to get enough petrol for our generator to keep water and power going so we can keep cool. I can't even imagine what people without this kind of resource will do. As I write, it's now 109.8 degrees. (I take a long time to write and ponder, I know. I do other things in between.)

I'm heading off to soak my head in cool water again, while I can.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Surprising things I see in church

The church congregation Steve and I attend meets at Buninyong Town Hall, built in 1848. A gorgeous building, it sports fancy work on the ceiling as shown below, as well as other scrollwork, woodwork, and other touches approved by generations of lawmakers over the years.


I like the place we meet. It's historic, homey, and cool on most Sunday mornings.
But, in an old building such as this, one can sometimes have the feeling you're being watched. I did. And I was right. After the service, I found this...


...a big, hairy Huntsman spider about the size of an adult hand. Maybe it's radioactive. Maybe it's preparing to launch a bomb...that gaze is glowing. Anyway, it's watching me scrunch myself up along the wall and exit the hallway...after I took the photo.

I know they're harmless, but they don't LOOK harmless. They only bite if they're mad, and even then it's as harmless as a mosquito bite...so I'm told.

As my 14-month-old granddaughter would say..."eeewwwww."

Monday, January 19, 2009

Dining memories

I shipped my oak, six-seater dining table
10,000 miles (or so)
from Washington State, America
to Victoria State, Australia
just over two years ago.

It languished, taken apart
piece by piece
arm by arm, seat by seat
in cardboard and duct tape
stored underneath my house.

In time for Thanksgiving this year
the set was put back together,
dusted and polished
to seat extra guests;
an overflow of people for the celebration.

Since then,
the table and chairs have migrated
to the large, long living room
at the front of our house.
I use it now for careful thinking.

My view is from two floor-length windows
across the verandah to my south-facing front yard;
sunlight spills in on a summer morning
and seasonally, there are wattle trees and roses
in bloom.

Sporadic traffic
flows by on the nearby arterial road
to Smythesdale and Scarsdale;
I can see when my husband
comes home.

My laptop sits on that 20-year-old table
along with myraid books and
notebooks and pens,
my cell phone
and anything else I need for creativity.

But today
as I chatted on the phone
with a friend, I noticed
hardened gunk on a swath
along the edge in front of where I sit.

My thumbnail
turned up crusty "stuff"
and I don't know how
it escaped my cleaning.
Eewww.

But...

Perhaps it is leftover
from another Thanksgiving
or Christmas meal or just plain dinnertime
that my children and I shared, years ago.
If so, I don't want to get rid of it.

Another memory.
Petrified though it is.

Perhaps I will
just steer visitors clear of that
portion of table
and make it my own.
A shrine to Jason and Kim and me.

Maybe I should focus more on cleaning the other dining room table
that has newer memories.

Monday, January 12, 2009

IF

This is a poem that hung, framed in thin, scrolled wood, on the wall of Steve's bedroom when he was a child. It followed him wherever his family migrated in following cattle stations around south Australia. He says it was something he read often and caused him to ponder life as he grew up. It now hangs, in its antiquity, in the hallway of our home in Scarsdale. I thought it interesting enough to post:

"IF"
by Rudyard Kipling:

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good nor talk too wise;

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them, "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son.

Friday, January 9, 2009

A child's observation

I recently read a journal of mine from the 1990s, and came across a bit of funny.

A friend of mine at that time had a daughter the same age as my daughter, Kimberly. Alexis and Kimberly became best friends for awhile, and they still stay in touch periodically. Both are single moms.

Anyway, the backseat conversation of 10-year-old girls on the way to church was this:

Kimberly: "I don't know why I keep doing that. It's a really bad habitat."

Alexis: "I think you mean habit, silly! A habitat is when squirrels gather nuts."

A whim

I want to grow my hair
long and wild
and thick as a horse's mane.

Thick and shiny and
chestnut brown;
the color it was in my youth.

Today it is short
and falsely covers grey and white strands
with chocolate and champagne highlights.

But I fear that if I let it grow
the thinness on my scalp will show
and the myraid colors infused with natural

Will cause strangers
who look at my long, luxurious hair in the back then
when I turn around

Be shocked and appalled
at such an old, wrinkly-faced woman
with such young hair behind.

They would surely scream in shock.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Australian summer evening

The western horizon at sunset
dissolves into hues of
yellow and green
with fuchsia accents.

Warm air
whispers across skin
fueled by cooler breezes;
Like the mingling of lovers.

Cut grass
and fragrant branches of
eucalyptus gum trees
scent the time between light and dark.

Crickets and locusts
and cicadas
hum loudly as night falls
and darkness covers the earth.

Multi-colored
and not-so-flagrant hues
of ordinary birds and parrots' wings
flash brilliant across the darkening sky.

Chirps and screeches and melodious
songs tell of events and
triumphs and
face-plants in the day's course of life.

People are not much different.

Phone calls and e-mails
and messages on mobile phones
lead to a greater pull of time
away from healthy seclusion.

We were not meant nor made to be alone.

And yet,

We strive too much
for company and busy-ness and talking
to fulfill yearnings for companionship
and forget that we were also

Made for solitude;
To find peace with God.
Quietness and trust;
That is my strength.
(Isaiah 30:15)

Christmas Morning lolly run

Early morning sirens screaming throughout the Sebastopol fire district of Ballarat didn't seem to alarm too many residents. Only a few showed concerned faces through windows framed by hastily pulled-back drapes.

The several years old annual Christmas morning "lolly run" was underway in neighborhoods, with four designated fire engines complete with Santa on back and his firefighter elves decked out in turnout gear of yellow trousers and red suspenders.

Steve, as second lieutenant and second in command to the captain, Bill Cook, drove one of the trucks, and I rode shotgun. Our designated area was a low income neighborhood of several blocks, which to me, made spreading the joy of the season that much more poignant.

We were at the Sebastopol station by 8 a.m., and I helped decorate trucks and tried to stay out of the way of the veterans. I eavesdropped while the leaders planned neighborhood routes and pickup areas for more lollies (candy) should anyone run out. I took pictures. But thanks to Steve, most of the blokes know my journalism background, and so they didn't mind.

Christmas morning was pleasantly cool and sunny, like a lazy summer day in the Pacific Northwest. By noon, the sun was pushing its warmth down to earth and radiating off the blacktop and making me wonder about the wisdom of roasting a turkey in my kitchen for an evening Christmas meal with two of Steve's three children.

But on this morning, I wasn't thinking about it too much. Camera in hand, I snapped away while residents came out of their homes at the siren's signal...older couples in bathrobes and jammies waving at their firefighters as they passed by tossing lollies from the back of the engine, and Santa in full gear and ultra-hip black sunglasses waving lazily as we drove by. Children ran out of homes, delighted to not only see a fire truck, but Santa on the back. I swear, for the first 45 minutes of the two-and-a-half hour run I had a lump in my throat and unshed tears stung my eyes.

What a way to start Christmas Day. What joy was on those faces, young and old. In fact, some blokes had set aside six-packs or cartons of beer to give to their "firey mates" as a show of appreciation. Steve slowed the truck as they swaggered over to hand the gift bags of brew to Santa and his helpers. Grandparents and parents took videos and pictures to document the event unfolding on their street as the brigade passed by.

I had a good laugh as well. How different from anything I've ever seen or experienced from where I come from in America. My "hometown" Battle Ground was the most community oriented and community involved city I'd ever lived in, but on this day I think Sebastopol gave them a run for their money.

I look forward to making this a holiday tradition. I can't think of a better way to spend Christmas morning. Unless it's with my children, daughter-in-law and grandchild, family and friends all here with us...on a Christmas Morning Lolly Run.

Second lieutenant Steven Colin Cramer at home, coffee in hand, getting ready for the lolly run.

Decorating the engines at the station.

Santa in "sunnies" (sunglasses) and his elves in turnout gear. The truck behind them is the one I rode in with Steve while he drove.

Santa's reindeer, Steve, in the driver's seat.

On our way.

Driving down Albert Street in the heart of Sebastopol.

Santa on the back, framed by the side mirror.

First lolly drop. Those boys were waiting.

Girls in bathrobes chasing candy.

Even the older set came out in jammies.

A happy face to Santa Claus.

Little girl reindeer.

A typical outdoor Australian Christmas party on the front lawn. Lots of houses had this sort of set-up with tables and chairs and children running higgledy-piggledy and adults spinning yarns of Christmases past.

One of the "Santas" who handed out stubbies of beer to the firefighters to enjoy later. Notice the earring. I was amused.

Family waiting for lollies, camera in hand by mom.

Another ready neighborhood.

Too loud! But here anyway.

Princesses and ballerinas came running in this neighborhood.

Reindeer Steve (on left in light blue shirt) being pelted with lollies by Santa on the last stop.