Random experiment.

I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be. - Douglas Adams

Last term we did pirates ~ not like the gypsies we did this term. I thought the Dawn Treader looked more like a pirate ship than anything else. It must be the bandanas the sailors are wearing. I can't see Ditz up that rigging & that's a fact. We have issues with this term's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream as it is. The caste is light on males. Ditz got caste as Demetrius. I know!!! Poor kid. Between that chest & the voice she is less than convincing as a male.

Beaches are amazing. You might find anything. Ditz swears this is a squid egg, not, as I suppossed, a jellyfish. At least she didn't try telling me it was a waterhorse egg!

Miles .... & miles of beach & you know something. We didn't see a single solitary shell. How weird is that? As a long time beachcomber I was more than a little peeved but Ditz has rather gone of shell collecting ~ ever since she asked how they got made & we looked it up. Excreted calcium or some such thing. Ditz went Eeeew! & we don't talk about it anymore.

Down the Coast again.

I love a sunburnt country/A land of sweeping plains/ of rugged mountain ranges/Of droughts & flooding rains.....Dorethea McKellar.

Liddy has been having a rough time at work lately. Political games. I know it's part of all work places but honestly, I think people aren't working hard enough if they've got time for this stuff. Plus she's been sharing germs with me so not a happy bunny. This being the case we decided she really needed to get off the rock for a bit.

What she wanted to do was have a long weekend at my mum's. Sorry mum. Couldn't remember when you got back from your Murray River trip & you really don't want to share germs with us. Consequentially Liddy booked herself a driving lesson so we couldn't have got away any way. Instead we did a day trip.Down the coast........And up into the mountain ranges where the roads are steep & narrow & wind through the hills like a switchback.Unlike Ditz & I Liddy hadn't done Natural Bridge so that's where we headed. It is a lovely & very easy walk but I don't like it because it is very touristy & there always seems to be swarms of tourists round. Yes, even on a Thursday.
One professional photo shoot & we can pose Ditz anywhere! It is degrees & degrees cooler in the rainforest than anywhere else. The creek is all big boulders but not as much water as when we visited last time & the girls couldn't swim. Everything is cordoned off, to Liddy's disgust. Tourists hanging over on of the bridges were gibbering about seeing a platypus but they can't possibly have. For starters it was quite the wrong time of day. They are morning & dusk feeders & not active at other times. For seconds they prefer creeks with mud banks to burrow in, not the rocky sort of culvert at Natural Bridge. Thirdly, they are very shy & with the amount of racket going on would never have shown. What there were were really big eels. Ew!
Bunches of vines hanging down in swags over the road. Quite lovely.

We were going to go on to Heinze Dam so the girls could swim but it was closed so Liddy headed back down the mountain to the Gold Coast for a beach walk, something we don't get on the island & love about going up to mum's. We ended up at Burleigh Heads & as we walked along the boardwalk we spotted dozens of bright blue wrens. These tiniest of birds are a stunning, vibrant blue in the males but it is mating season & I spotted plenty of little brown females as well, zipping in & out of the lantana. I'm hoping the picture will enlarge so you can see the one perched in amongst all that green stuff. Anyway, they look like these ones: beautiful, delicate, fragile; so very pretty.
The water was absolutely freezing. Any ideas the girls had about swimming were quickly shelved. The water was far too cold!
We pretty much walked from headland to headland. Lovely empty beach as school holidays is still a week away & it is still too cold for most people to contemplate swimming. The boarders were out but the flagged areas were small so lots of rips still & DANGER: No Swimming signs everywhere. Still, people were getting in the water outside the flagged areas. You have to wonder about people. Our beaches are lovely but among some of the most dangerous in the world ~ even the famous touristy ones!Liddy didn't want to be driving on the highway during peak hour so we left before 3 pm & headed back into Cleveland where the Voyage of the Dawn Treader has begun shooting. Last time we looked the prow & poop deck were still in pieces all over the grass but my suspension of reality is incapable of dealing with a boat suspended 20' above the ground & devoid of any actual water!

When they began rocking the thing I dissolved into giggles, to Ditz's disgust. She's still mighty peeved to have not been able to find the casting for extras for this thing, it being local & all. Trust me, a movie diva I do not need ~ nor any more running around~ so I'm not weeping over this one. Everything always takes ages & is behind wire fencing so you just aren't close enough for the action to be interesting. I'll just wait for the movie to come out & enjoy it then ~ if I can get over the sight of that ship dangling mid~air!

Wednesday morning.

First a howling blizzard woke us,/Then the rain came down to soak us,/And now before the eye can focus -/Crocus. ~Lilja Rogers

I know it is spring. The weather can't make up its mind at all. Issi has moved onto the verandah where he surveys a world gone mad with enduring interest. Yes, he likes the glass topped tables, which soak up the heat, & when I go to pick him up his fur is so hot I nearly burn myself. The honeyeaters sit on the the sapling growing through the verandah & serenade the birdbath before plunging in & out, shake all over, in & out. Putting a birdbath on the deck was one of my better ideas. It gives us endless delight as our small visitors come & go during the day.

The water is blue & hazy through the trees, the early morning air still crisp & smelling richly of damp earth, salt & eucalypt. The sun sets golden fire to the edges of the leaves & the shadows dance across the decking in an intricate weaving. One's soul could burst from pure delight on such a morning as this.

I have been busy. It is pleasant sitting outside slowly painting my way across the deck. Bit by bit it is actually getting done, though a slow old process given I am gone so much & Dearest can do so little. Still we have had blue gum slabs sitting in our yard for years. If you aren't Aussie *blue* is often the term used to denote something reddish so blue gums actually give a rich red timber. Dearest used one of the slabs to make this permanent seat on the verandah & I have finally managed to seal it. The estapol really brings out the grain & the rich red hues. The sapling grows through the deck beside it & one day it will grow above the roof line & shade the whole lower deck. The birds haven't waited & perch there happily before & after their bath.

Grab a coffee & come sit a while with me contemplating the wondrous workings of God & the good things it was His pleasure to make for our enjoyment. We should get our coffee drunk before the sandies & mozzies find us & start biting.

A Different Tuesday's Trivia.

In order to see birds it is necessary to become part of the silence - Robert Lynd

We interrupt the usual Tuesday Trivia for something a little different because last night was as exciting as it gets round here.


Ditz is the only one who actually likes evening t.v though between reading her book & strumming her guitar she doesn't actually watch too much of it. She was curled up in her red chair as per usual when I started getting hissed instructions to very quietly get my butt down there. One never knows with Ditz but she was so insistent I dutifully hoyed my butt.


There banging insistently against the window while the wind & rain skirled about it was the tiniest visitor. I was plain shocked. By the time it's dark all good little birdies are roosting unless they are nocturnal, like owls. This little birdie had absolutely no business being out in the wild & windy dark, bright eyed & bushy~tailed.


We watched for a while but when he showed no signs of flying away I paddled outside & scooped him up. He was more than happy to be scooped & showed no fear at all.

The thing is, I have absolutely no idea what he is. I have scoured my bird books & am no wiser at all. He was so tiny, barely 2", with a bright russet patch under his chin & gold markings around the beak & at the corner of the eyes, but buff underneath & quite dark on top. The beak was more a honeyeater's than anything but the flight & wing movement like a fantail, or wrenish. However I'm pretty certain he wasn't a wren because his tail was too short & stubby though the size is right. And the beak excludes most of the other small birds, like finches & shrikes & warblers.

So any of my Aussie readers who can throw light on our visitor's identity do tell!

We think the wind must have blown him off his roosting perch. I warmed him up in my cupped hands & then Ditz & I released him when the wind & rain eased off on the sheltered side of the house.

It is such a joy when something so wild is so trusting. he had absolutely no fear of us & wasn't all that keen on getting his freedom back. We, however, did not need a small bird. We have Issi.

Monday Memories.

I'll bet what motivated the British to colonize so much of the world is that they were just looking for a decent meal. ~Martha Harrison


My Dearest is a true blue Aussie man. He has become more cosmopolitan in his advancing years but his one & only venture onto the continent he originated from left him rather more rotund than he began thanks to the abundance of good German pastries, French sauces & robust red wines, which he was forced to drink alone because I do not drink red wine.



I, who should have been the size of a small suburban village, gained no weight at all.

However, towards the end of our travels through France Dearest began to get lonesome for the taste of home ~ which in his case was a craving for that solid Aussie staple, meat pie & tomato sauce.

Accordingly when we pulled in to the next patisserie I was forwarded with a wad of French francs & instructions to get him a pie, or at the very least a sausage roll. My French, never very good, had not been overly improved by my mangling it all over Europe & I quailed at the idea of negotiating my way through a maze of unfamiliar vocabulary.

Besides, by then, we were very experienced with foreign patisseries &, " They won't have it," I argued.

"Yes they do, " Dearest argued pointing in the laden window dripping with things glazed, creamy & rich with butter. "There. What's that if not a sausage roll?" I looked at the concoction dubiously. If nothing else experience had taught me that whatever that was in the window it was extremely unlikely to be a sausage roll but I gathered up my battered French to do battle with the little French proprietress who was listening to our exchange with keen interest but little understanding.

My fluent French comes down to one well used phrase: Que est Ce? [which I can't spell either. I could once, in the far of long ago but no more] I tried it out uncertainly on the little round lady behind the counter pointing to the article in question & her face lit up with a huge beam of pure happiness. The foreign girl spoke French! She was beside herself with delight & rattled off a long paragraph like a Gatling gun of which I caught just one word as the stream rushed by: chocolate!

No, whatever it was it wasn't a sausage roll but pastry filled with rich, dark chocolate; something I would definitely experiment with but that Dearest wouldn't eat under any circumstances except near starvation.

We made our choices & I got to try out the other phrase I got to use a lot: Combien? How much?
The two most important phrases in any language. What is it & how much?!

me~meep.

When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking. ~ Albert Einstein.

Sandra hasn't got enough to do so she is doing memes ~ & passing them along.

The rules are simple; I need to tell 10 things about myself that are true. The temptation to lie is extraordinary. Remember all those fairy tales where the peasant girl is discovered to really be a princess? That's me. You don't buy it? Nope; me either.

1. I do not suffer fools willingly or gladly. God wants an attitude change on this one because He keeps throwing them my way & I keep rolling my eyes & tuning out. Not that I'm so smart but I do prefer intelligent conversation.

2. Which leads to 2; I'm not good at small talk ~ or with people I don't know well. See one & two. Most people don't do well when greeted by a stranger & asked their views on the purpose of black holes. The exceptions are usually worth knowing. You know where to leave your views on black holes. Thank you for enlightening my ignorance.

3. I am taller than my mother. This was a source of delight when I was 12 & finally overtook her 5' 1 3/4". My girls are taller than my 5'5". This is a source of delight to them. I am less than happy to be the second shortest person in the house. Issi really shouldn't count being the cat & all but if I don't count him I am the shortest person in this house.

4. I am 2nd generation Australian on my mother's side. Dearest is 2nd generation on his mother's side. This means our children have more Scottish blood in their veins than either of us do. Life is so not fair!

5. I miscarried a child at 3 months. My whole body wept. It was one of the hardest griefs because only Dearest even knew I was pregnant & no~one really understood my grief for the possibilities that ended with my child's death. Dearest practicaly pointed out the 4 children I had needed me. I needed to grieve for the child I'd lost. For my sins when we finally fell pregnant again we got Ditz.

6. The last math exam I sat I failed so spectacularly I didn't get a single question right. In point of fact I couldn't do any of the paper at all & merely got marks for making an *attempt*. On the other hand I was in the top 5% of my state for English. Totally right brained.

7. I have an inconvient sense of humour. I laugh in all the wrong places & weep over nothing at all. Unfortunately I have passed this deplorable trait along to my children. I notice even Ditz has acquired this trait. She is the only child at choir picking up on black humour.

8. I will eat escargot swimming in garlic sauce & I have even tried frog's legs but I eat no seafood at all, under any circumstances. Never. Ever. Ever. Seafood should stay in the sea. Do you know what that stuff eats?!

9. I didn't want children. 'Nuff said. You can count as well as I can.

10. I was an adult before I ever read a non~fiction book of my own free will. It was about King Arthur. Some people would probably argue I hadn't actually moved out of pure fantasy.

I do solemnly swear I have told the truth ~ if not the whole truth. As Sandra says, "I tag anyone who reads this and wants to participate."

Falling into the hands of a living God.

There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way." ~C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, 1943

Sometimes it takes me a while to get to what's actually on my mind. There are things that happen all around me & then there's what's happening inside my head. Of the two I usually prefer what's going on inside my head but putting words to it all is sometimes a little difficult ~ especially if you are me & lurch between extremes.

So I was reading here ~ which is interesting because I would have asked many of the exact same questions yet reached the completely opposite conclusion. I abandoned the liturgical churches as not meeting my need for knowing God & because I will be judged on the amount of knowledge I have ~ not the knowledge the church has! ~ & it is up to me to sort out my relationship with God.

I do not find most of the props in most churches helpful: music, liturgy ~ even the sacraments, & I believe the sacraments are important; all become impediments to knowing God because God is not any of those things though He may indeed be in those things, or use those things. So I must admit it bewilders me when people hide behind liturgy, or ritual, or dogma which reduces God to a formula.

Don't shoot. Just thinking aloud here because it's something I just don't get myself. I don't get it because the one thing I always wanted from God was to know that he was indeed real & the only way that works for me is to come face to face with God; to fall into the hands of the living God ~ & when that happens it shatters whatever preconceived notions one has about who & what God is. God is not who I thought he was; but He is indeed exactly who He says He is. I should have listened better.

I know I work completely differently to most people. Even inside my own house no~one else gets the use or delight of seeking God in silence. I am constantly compromising to accommodate the rest of my house, bewildering them nearly as much as they bewilder me. Ditz is all froth & bubble & noise on the outside but I'm like that on the inside. I make so much internal noise I have lots of trouble being still & hearing God. We have these conversations that go, "Look God, I don't know so you are going to have to be really, really clear ~ as in unmistakably clear~ as in I can't mistake what you want..." And this is how I know God is real because again & again & again He makes his intentions unmistakably clear to someone so thick~headed & internally noisy they can hear little above the froth & bubble of their own noisy self~importance. Believe me, it takes some doing to make yourself heard over all that!

The thing is I would rather run my own risks & risk everything on working out a personal relationship with God than clutch at a format that may be tried & true or dried up & deader than a dodo, too afraid to step out in faith just in case God doesn't catch me. I can't do it. I suffocate within ritual. I can see it's attractions. I can see its beauty. I can't live within the framework.

From one extreme to another. I have also been reading here because Ember has been hitting on a number of issues that have been bugging me for more than 20 years; how does one simplify one's life yet still do all that needs to be done? When does simplicity become more complicated, defeating its prime purpose? [I live on an island; of course I'm going to ask this question!] How am I personally called to live out gospel simplicity because what I am personally called to do may not be at all what you are called to do? Which aspects do I need to consider? What is irrelevant to my state?

And there's the difference. Working out my salvation in fear & trembling, as God Himself leads according to His spirit within me. How He leads me is never going to be exactly the same as He leads you. Never. Remember to thank Him for that. Trust me; you don't want my journey.

“Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more serious than that.” ~ Bill Shankly



Ditz doesn't think much of my musical ability & Liddy is scathing about my soccer ability but just for a moment here I want to brag on me, instead of my kids, because today I scored a goal. One goal. As oppossed to no goals. I was standing in just the right spot at just the right time & got my foot to the ball at just the right angle to put the ball in the back of the net. As even a little pressure usually sends my balls wide I am rather chuffed.



It was hot again, but not as hot as last week, so I moved forward as there were fewer bodies on the pitch this week. I think we were playing about 7 a side but it's only the little kids who are prepared to run & run & run. The rest of us wilt after about 10 minutes & have little bursts when absolutely forced to move.

I got the second coat on the verandah before the storms hit last night & Issi had a complete meltdown. That cat is a complete nut job! The rain was much needed but no~one remembered the washing so all Liddy's jumpers were wet this morning & we draped them over the heater desparately because she is running a temperature & I've got her sniffles & Ditz is just ratty. I do so love it when we all get sick together.

A Musical Wednesday.

“Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.” ~ Angela Monet.
I was sitting here happily breathing, contemplating my navel in the blissful state that so seldom eventuates when there is nothing to do & nowhere to go when my peace was shattered. We have 2 performances in the middle of this month, one at QPAC.

I know the schedules are posted for a reason but looking at them gives me brain melt. *sigh* Why anyone would want to do this for a living beats me but there we have it. Ditz is far from normal!
Anyway we have been door knocking clutching the VM newsletter & pamphlet selling raffle tickets ~ which Ditz is extremely bad at & Liddy is very good at. Liddy doesn't think much of our efforts & tends to take control, concisely pointing out that Ditz belongs to this very elite choir [she says no~one will know what I mean by ensemble; Sorry, Alison.] & having been invited to Singapore they are now fundraising. We did very well only we must look approachable because everywhere we tried people chatted to us for absolute ages & we only did 5 houses in 2 hours. I know, but we only have 3 tickets left & my mother bought one she doesn't know about yet. I figured as the prize is a bunch of CDs she could use them in her radio show. Ditz was scathing & asked if I even knew the artists? [stupid question; of course I don't] Oh, well. It was a good idea.

Anyway after a week with no ensemble Ditz was champing at the bit. Alison was in fine form & I nearly chocked in my corner up the back trying not to die of laughter as Alison was not happy with sight reading results & in an effort to imprint the necessary information in the children's brains had them moving. Alison is a very kinesthetic teacher but having those poor kids pecking like chooks & jiggling like baited worms had the whole room in stitches till not one of them could sing any longer. Ditz was in trouble for cracking on the low G on a song that falls in a difficult place in her range & then I was in trouble for failing to pay attention. I swear, that woman has a 6th sense of when anyone in the room is zoning out because she always waits till I'm deeply immersed in my book to ask me a question & scares the living daylights out of me! Yes, I think the kids are improving! [I think that's what I got asked?] Ditz has done very well by me the last few trips to the library. Finnikin of the Rock [Melina Marchetta] is very good but now Ditz is peeved because I started behind her but read faster so am now well ahead of her but Wednesdays I always do a lot of reading. I'd got to the exciting part & am not so fussed about Ave Maria so had completely submerged & as all my children know, once I'm gone it is rather difficult to get me back again! I actually thought my focus & attention were exceptionally good ~ just not for the music!

I must be a bit odd [please, no comments] because I find the kids singing scales extremely pleasant. There's something about trained voices doing this that is quite beautiful but apparently Alison's neighbours don't agree & are likely to scream about shutting that racket when she has students! Oh my! The things that I don't think about. Our neighbours are mostly older & a fair distance away but flute carries so I'm really pleased none of them have taken to screaming at us!

Encouragement for all the kids, most of whom sing in their school choirs & struggle as the training is nowhere near as thorough & some very odd practises occur. Rightly or wrongly once we started VM I pulled Ditz out of other singing activities because I could see how frustrated she was becoming. Ditz might be off the air in a lot of ways but not when it comes to music & one term with a choir director Ditz didn't get along with up at the school was enough to convince me never, ever again! Ever. Ditz frustrated & angry is no fun to play with & who knows what sort of damage could be happening. Unlike my Ditz I know absolutely nothing about music but I do know a good thing when I see it & Alison is very good for Ditz. She brings her out of the ether into the reality of the business end of the music industry because the arts have their practical, hard~edged business side as well as their creative aspects. Ditz needs to stay grounded. For all our sakes.

Tuesday's Trivia.

"For seventeen years he did nothing at all, but kill animals and stick in stamps"
- Sir Harold Nicholson (1886-1968) in Diaries and Letters about King George V.

My Dearest collects stamps. Not the pretty stamps with butterflies & flowers & *Things of Interest* emblazoned on them in bright colours but dull, boring stamps in dishwater colours 0f a king who was just as dull.

Why does he do this? Well it is a little complicated ~ but only because I find stamp collecting incredibly boring. No~one ever kills anyone. No~one gets martyred. There are no great political intrigues, insane love affairs dooming entire kingdoms [Ditz has just finished reading about Antony & Cleopatra], or heroic rescues...just little scraps of paper in insipid colours.

Yes, I am a big picture random thinker; Dearest is detail oriented.

Anyway, I have been helping him set up his blog & in the process today's trivia arrived because stamps may be boring but the people involved are raving lunatics. Raving lunatics are interesting so here's 3 random things about Australian stamps.

1: In 1809 Isaac Nichols became Australia's first Post Master. He was an ex~convict. {OK, so most of the colony were ex~convicts but I can only dream of the lovely hoo~ha doing that would generate in Australia Post today.}

2: Federation is 1901 [That's when we stopped being the penal satellite of Great Britain & became a Nation in our own right]. To celebrate this severing of the apron strings The Post Master General held a competition to design our very own Australian stamp. {Not to worry we designed a National Flag & an National Anthem using the same means} The resultant design was a one penny red roo on a map of Australia ~ & very nice too, incorporating as it did obviously Australian elements.

3: The King at the time was King George V. The man was an obsessive stamp collector charging his Royal Philatelist with procuring him the very best stamp collection in the royal kingdom, not a very good collection, not the 2nd best collection, but the premier elite collection. He also seems to have had an ego problem though my scattered reading seems to have reached a discrepancy about the actual events.

The Royalists out here objected to not having our head of state on our very first stamp, or KGV himself objected to being so very publicly snubbed. Either way the end result was the KGV issue ~ which is what my dearest collects ~ & very dull it is of him indeed! To add insult to injury, it is still treason to post any Head of State [king or queen] upside down on your letter!

I don't think it gets more trivial than that!