Another First

 

CObs 2.9.23  

Another First

The exciting thing about life is that there are always more firsts along the way; until the last, although I’ve heard it is possible to die twice.

The emotions, these firsts excite, vary. My first filling in a school dental nurse chair with a foot pedal grinding the drill – horror. My first filling pulled out by a toffee after a lolly scramble at a church picnic – fascinated horror. My first olive in a dark Greek restaurant with my fifth form History teacher and class, thinking I’d picked up a grape – shock and confusion. I controlled the choke and spit reflex so no horror in the retell. Chef’s choice to offer pitted olives prevented the dental disaster link you may have been expecting.

A big first is cooking up and birthing a child. Our first was nearly three weeks early. Disbelief, panic, a crazy drive at 5 in the morning made this very exciting. Our second was nearly three weeks late. Desperation, after my obstetrician had said there was no room in the inn for an induction, drove me to gulp down some cod liver oil – and this was before the internet! Even then, nothing moved until I held my newest niece in my arms that afternoon. She was born at 11:50am and cooed away, snuggling contentedly. As if our second had been waiting for her cousin to arrive, she got moving and was born at 11:50pm. So reassuring to be able to walk from my sister -in- law’s maternity room around to the birthing suite and be told that yes, I was in labour.

The twin cousie’s first birthday party was at Featherdale zoo, in the farmyard zone. We saw the power of peer confidence after the candles on their piggy and cow shaped cakes had been blown out. Little fists grabbed and stuffed the first ‘slice?’ into their mouths. After a big grin at each other,  both little heads, one blond, the other brunette were face down in the icing, eating straight from the plate. This gave parents clear warning that these little ones would grab life by the throat.

And so to another first for me today. Petal’s first birthday in a different time zone to us. I have hung no banner, piled no pressies below it and have not made a red velvet cake.  But am so proud of all her firsts as she bounds into lots of new experiences. With London as her base and Rev & Rob as family in the zone she’s working and travelling – Corfu, Amsterdam, Cork and Albania – all firsts, places she never went to with us. Love your stories Petal, love your responsible risk taking, love you. Happy Birthday from your future, we are nine hours ahead! xx

Not stopping her from volunteering at a South African Wild life conservation park in 2017, was the first of many hold your breath, release to the wild moments, as a parent. 

When to Take a Life

 

26.8.23  

 

When to take a life?

 

A high pitched eeeeee - pulses in and out of our strained aural range. The relax into that sweet, dark cocoon of sleep forever disturbed. This sound is enough to create the heart of a mad murderer or a desperate sheet tent builder in us all. When eating marmite, icepacks and bugoff just don’t work; death is the only alternative.

 

One early morning at school in ’94, a hoard of cockroaches, distracted by my footsteps (from their feasting on what may have been a devon sandwich poked into a crack of a retaining wall) spilled across the veranda like a tsunami. The faster, lighter ones crawling over the top of the larger ones, forming crests, until they dropped off down cracks behind a planter box full of flowering murraya. Despite my armful of marking, my immediate reaction was to kill. No Spanish flamenco dancer could have pounded with more passion than I did in that moment. Remorse however rose in my throat when I looked down beyond my box of books, and saw my kill. A giant, flat roach at the climax of a white gut rainbow. A flash of 6^th Form biology, re spiracles in exoskeletons, forced up bile to meet the remorse.

 

Do carrots scream as they are pulled from the ground before they seed?

Is pest spraying a persuasion against redback invasion?

Are abattoirs – humane?

Is euthanasia kind?

 

M and I brace ourselves for the kindness we will be asked to deliver in the next few days. Everything is tight and blurry at the same time. Our precious, best boy, groans to find a comfy position from the lymphoma racking his corn chip smelling, bean shaped, sleep curl. The question is when. When do we help him into that sweet; dark cocoon of sleep?

 

The Ground Loves Me

 

19.8.23

The ground loves me.

Maybe its because my mum taught me how to cloud gaze or because Dad encouraged me to rootle around potato plants hunting for ladybirds before I could talk. Maybe the ground loves me because it thought I loved it so much. When a little older I’d lie on it under the shade of a Kowhai or blackcurrant bush and read – for long stretches. I certainly lingered face down on it through long weekends at Swain’s farm learning to ride a two wheeler.

 

As I got older the ground became the means of purchase for my hurrying, maybe I just haven’t paid enough attention to the old friend that heard my childish joys and woes. I always tell it how I love it’s perfume in rain after hot days and thank it for the roses and citrus it grows for me.

 

The ground is not satisfied.

 

Lately it has been more assertive to regain my attention. Leading a class from Chapel one week a power cord colluded to provide a close conversation. Winded, I barely noticed that my skirt was up and my head was down. A couple of lovely Yr8 boys grabbed me under my arms and hurriedly lifted me, returning the hem to it’s proper place. With a group of colleagues, walking to parent teacher interviews after school, I found myself hugging my old friend again. The ground found itself insulted at how fast others try to get me away from it.

 

I only pray that this jealousy for my attention does not lead to an early, permanent intimacy. I feel that lying around on it a bit more, cloud gazing and reading, may stay the ground’s desperation for that exclusive friendship.

Huskisson - Restorative Escape

 

A grey welcome to our weekend away. What a damp summer we're having.
Currambene Creek freshwater empties into the Jervis Marine Park at Huskisson.

Rant Warning – explains why we went. Skip to the first subtitle for info on the place.

M watched me fade this year – I don’t think I’ve ever come to the end of a teaching year in such an exhausted state. Teaching 1½ terms remotely was hard but so was coming back to class with the aim of  trying to achieve academic growth, redesign learning for more group work, as well-being gurus decided this is what the kids needed. All this whilst maintaining the required social distancing and mask wearing without irritation at the fifth reminder of ‘Nose out - Germs in’ to the same students every class. Providing ‘memory making’ events because camps had been missed and being ‘fun’, the push for ‘easier reports’ that required double the time and normal end of year events whose time lines were skewed and colliding - all took their toll. We made it because everyone on staff, parents and kids supported each other – it was a true team effort.

What frayed the thread for many teachers though was the NSW Minister for Education, Sarah Mitchell, accusing teachers of 'hanging students out to dry' by going out on strike on Dec 7.  This action was a desperate attempt after all other negotiations had failed as the union tried to make the govt. take notice of the terrible strain teachers are working under because of lack of funding for staff, infrastructure and resources in so many schools. Ms Mitchell is a career politician and has never worked in the field of her current portfolio. The strike was making the point that the care of students is founded on competent teachers who are well resourced in time and materials. The fact is that the demands required for a competent teacher and the salary have been out of balance for a long while, leading to fewer capable students choosing this career where intelligence, flexibility, creativity and tireless commitment are base requirements. Without quality staffing, the ideals of education will not be achieved and Australia's future is being hamstrung. First time I’ve ever yelled at the radio in my car.

Obviously I was unhinged and needed a rescue package. I am very lucky to have a husband who realised this and was able to arrange one! As soon as the compulsory First Aid course was over on the last day for staff in 2021, he whisked me off to the South Coast.

A hybrid lesson is where there are some kids at home and some in class and both need to be taught.

A Tiny Town in Jervis Bay

A very clever young man I once taught was named after this area of the world, I don’t blame his parents for wanting to have a daily reminder of this beautiful place.

We managed to secure last minute accommodation at the Huskisson Beach Resort. Sounds 5 star but a more accurate title would be Huskisson Huts. Sleeps 6 with a minimalist kitchenette (like a hotel room but with a microwave) and single bathroom. The double bed was in the living space and the 4 bunks in a separate room. It was clean and had good air-con and was one park crossing away from the beach. Late or early check in was a breeze with an excellent system at a motel closer to the township; code in – pay bond - keys out. Each hut was a different colour so even though the weather was dull and forecast to remain so, it felt cheerful.

Huskisson Beach Resort - a hut just a park away from the beach.

The best food in the town was the Huskisson Bakery and Cafe. After a quick walk around the bay to the main street we spotted a queue for coffee – always a good sign! So we lined up, checked in and our eyes almost fell out of our heads at the wealth of pastries and cakes on display. A customer told their friends that they did the best shakes on the coast. Luckily we had to wait a while to order – so hard to choose. The coffee was worth the queue and their impressive ‘give back to the community’ business plan made us decide to support them again the next morning.

Huskisson Bakery and Cafe - best food in town.

M's physio had been to Huskisson and told him that the best place to eat in town was The Stonegrill. A super hot volcanic stone is delivered to the table with your order on it sizzling away. He was fairly dubious as going out for tea and having to cook for yourself is not really the point but we went anyway because it reminded us of our youth in the 1980s. 

We met the brothers who own the place on our first morning walk and were lucky to secure a table at this popular eatery. One of the guys was the floor manager, a bigger than life character who made the experience quite entertaining. Grand kids served us and were so polite and efficient, it reminded me a little of the Italian osterias we ate at in Venice and Naples. They even offered a tiramisu on the dessert menu which was delicious.

When the cut of raw chicken turned up on the sizzling stone we suddenly realised that to avoid food poisoning it would have to be sliced and cooked into bite sized portions. M did a great job! Later we thought that the utensils going between raw and cooked meat would probably have earned a fail in any food tech class! I ordered a kitchen cooked barramundi with a butter and caper sauce - very nice.

Even though the beaches and the glittering ionized air were our primary goals – Christmas was so close and only the international pressies had been bought, wrapped and dispatched. Luckily there were lots of interesting little stores along the main street, not just the typical hippie beach town spots. The picture theatre at the end was covered in Christmas lights and opposite the sports grounds was an antiques and collectibles store called the Trading Post.

Plenty of tours and water sport companies to hire experiences from in the main street.
If you didn't find the perfect shell memento on the beaches pop into the Trading Post for a selection.

Closest Beach to the hut we stayed in, the sea reflects the sky, grey day - grey sea. Dogs allowed off leash until 8am at this patch of the bay. My early morning walks had lots of friendly fur people keep me company. I met an interesting woman who was employed at the NSW teacher's union - the only school conversation had for the whole three days though.

I'm always amazed at the 'tiling' on south coast rock platforms.  An arm of this jutted out where Moona Moona Creek empties into the bay was covered with adolescent seabirds being taught how to catch their breakfast. The chatting between parent and chick was fascinating.

A pair of Pied Oyster catchers had a huge variety of sounds, they kept in constant vocal contact even when their beaks were down in the sand or in a rock pool to catch food. 

This image is from NSW National Parks and Wildlife services who say that these birds are listed as endangered. They moved too fast in their hunt for me to get a decent shot in the low predawn light.

Walking back from our morning coffee we strayed off the path that runs past the camping ground with their glamping tents for hire and a beach side street where old houses are being knocked over and very expensive apartment towers (4 levels) are rising up. 

The Jervis Bay Marine Park has a memorial at Huskisson for a terrible naval accident that happened off the coast in 1964 (Nana remembers it!). In a night training exercise an aircraft carrier, HMAS Melbourne sliced the destroyer HMAS Voyager in two. It sank in two minutes! Remarkably 232 sailors were saved, 82 on the ship lost their lives. I was so impressed that although this accident was completely caused by human error, the navy has still acknowledged it and has this big site. The granite memorial has other sailors names who called the bay home, from other battles etched into it as well.

The water was cold – summer hadn’t really arrived yet so we drove to a host of beautiful beaches instead of just splashing about at the beach we listened to through the night. The wind provided a free exfoliate on all exposed skin as we sat and read but it also chased the clouds away and gave us more sun that rain. Can wind burn blister?

Hymans Beach is long and has the reputation for having the whitest sand in the country. Lots of holiday homes in the little village and a decent looking cafe. We drove past many lovely little beaches on the way here. 

In the bush at the other end of Hymans Beach were a pair of King Parrots, their desire for the green berries they'd found was greater than their fear of us standing by and watching. This ancient banskia tree seemed to be emitting a honey scent. An English couple stopped to chat as I was trying to work out the source of the smell. The guy was excited to discover where hedgehogs came from, what a joker. I don't think there are any hedgehogs in Aus, just the native echidna. I stopped myself sharing May Gibb's story of the Banksia men. M was halfway back to the car.

Chinamans beach, one up from Hymans - smaller but just as white. The brave who stepped into the surf didn't stay long. Bowen Island top left in the National Park. 

A Cool Cabana set up at Murrays Beach in the National Park.

An easy walk through the bush from Murrays Beach took us to Governors head. Bowen Island is a sanctuary for little penguins, it is illegal to have a boat within 30m of it. The huge waves in this bottle neck is a greater protection for them. The pounding was so loud and violent - many big rocks just under the surface of the sea caused massive plumes to spray into the air.

 

Thanks Google for the map.

There are so many great walks in the Booderee National Park, you need a pass to enter which can be bought online or at the manned hut on the border - $13, valid for 3 days. The gates close at sunset. Interestingly the actual village of Jervis Bay is in this park and is a Navy base with really nothing at all for a visitor to see except signs barring entry.

Looking up the coast from Cape St George Lighthouse towards Governor Head. M was keen to put the Audi's 4-wheel drive capabilities to work so we drove into this historical site on Stony Creek Rd, turn off Wreck Bay Road which is opposite the Jervis Bay Village turnoff.

This lighthouse is a string of disasters. The original site, chosen by seamen and geologists was ignored by the guy who built it. He chose the site for ease of access and construction. The lighthouse then became a beacon for destruction, Wreck bay became obsolete at the ships smashed into the coast. Even after they stopped shining the light the sandstone tower had to be knocked down because it shone so bright in the moonlight that it still attracted captains to the wrong place. This place also has a strange and awful history of child deaths from sickness, shotgun accidents and cliff falls. One lighthouse family had several children die in their time serving here. ghost tales just waiting to be written!

Left: Looking south from the lighthouse.     Right: Audi proudly parked along side other adventurers.

Coastal flora. Biggest Kangaroo paw plant I've ever seen in the garden at the Hut. The walk to Murray Beach had bush full of these red fruiting trees - after searching on line I think they are Diploglottis campbellii, a bush tucker known by the colloquial name - small leaf tamarind.

 

After a couple of nights we had to be away home so Willow could go back home instead of dog sitting and to get ready for the long list of Christmas festivities. We went via Berry and Kangaroo Valley for shopping and feasting. The road between these two places is gorgeous and a real hairpin adventure over Berry Mountain. (I think hill would have done when names were being chosen!) After all the rain the Fitzroy falls were full and overflowing!

The Audi was having too much fun to stop for pics, this is Rodney Campbell's photo.  

Thank you M from the bottom of my heart – a weekend getaway to the coast is a splendid restorative escape.

Places to look for accommodation on other than the big commercial sites.

https://holidayscollection.com.au/ I would try this company first next time.

$$ https://jervisbaybreaks.com

$$$ https://www.jbbeachhouses.com.au/

A spot for camping? https://www.visitnsw.com/destinations/south-coast/jervis-bay-and-shoalhaven/jervis-bay/accommodation

I'm sure the owners of this black house at Chinamans Bay are Kiwis. The pohutukawa out the front was huge.

Reading Then:

I snuck into Big W to pick up a book off M's Christmas list before the First Aid Course so he would have something to read.

John Grishom's The Judges List. A very straight forward plot, no thrills like his early work. Set in Florida and surrounds - good characters. (Of course I read all his books too.)

I finished Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens which has been on my TBR pile for a while. Set in the same area but the marshes of south east US. First novel of a biologist so descriptions of the flora and fauna were great. The main character was nicely complicated with a mindset that humans are only animals after all. A story about a neglected girl's mental, emotional, spiritual and physical survival from the time her mother walked out, part love story, part murder mystery. 

Mollymook - a south coast gem

If the south coast beaches were a  necklace, the Shoalhaven and Clyde river mouths would be the clasps and Mollymook would be the diamond pendant.

Southern end of Mollymook beach - January 2021 -a hoard of hopeful surfers gather in the middle. No wonder sharks get confused and think they are seals - maybe wet suits should be made fluorescent yellow or blues as camouflage.

A week on the South Coast of N.S.W. is just what any well-being coach would prescribe. Especially when our October booking choices lucked the first clear weather week since Christmas! 

The drive down was easy breezy with a stop at a town with more home ware and doorknob shops than perhaps any other I've ever seen in my life. Berry is the place to go if you want a special something for your interiors. The doughnut van is legendary and there are many great places to eat on the way to the Treat Factory at the other end of town.

Lunch stop at Berry. Top left - M across the road from a famous doughnut van - safest place to be!
Bottom Left - founder of the tree lopping, dairy farm building colonialist settlement, Alexander Berry.
Right one of the many, many, many home ware stores in this official Historic Town.

 Driving into the Jervis Bay area we started to see the black trunks covered with fern like regrowth of the eucalyptus devastated by last year's fire storms. One valley after the Sussex Inlet is still grey and black. An engineer testing the remains of a burnt out home near B's family property said that the bricks had survived a 700 degree C roasting. How did any of the flora or fauna in the area survive? So many volunteers kept the flames at bay where they could. His Pop's place was surrounded by fire but his buildings survived. The clean up has only a few dangerous black, dead limbs on trees down in the paddocks left to go. Fabulous valley views, all green and sparkling with the summer rain. We had a wonderful evening, relaxing on their cool terrace with perfect weather and no insects, except the loudest cicadas ever heard, for a family BBQ and frisbee chasing Tilly, B's border collie.

Right - Recovery from the fire storms a year ago. 
Left - images from a film thanking volunteers for saving the town of Sussex Inlet and all the people who had evacuated there. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncyye7sogPk 

Milton is another lovely wee town full of fashion and food. Check out Pilgrim's (A vegetarian cafe), Woodstock Chocolates - YUM and Coast, serving perfect Eggs Benedict. 

Behind the library is a collection of work from local artists, I loved Ann Rayment's pieces. (Go to https://bluethumb.com.au/ann-rayment to see and buy her work.) The road down between the IGA and the chocolate shop takes you to one of the most serene rooms on the South Coast. After getting caught on the beach for too long, do your skin a favour and book a facial in at the Beauty Indulgence Day Spa. They have a room with two treatment tables so take a buddy with you - bliss.

Even Petal got up for brekky when B picked it up from his sister's holiday job cafe - Flour, Water, Salt - and bought white peaches fresh off the tree at the orchard stall on Princes Highway. 

Top Left - An Ann Rayment for sale in the gallery behind Milton's Library.
Bottom Right - Beauty Indulgence Day Spa (PH. 4455 1192)

Rick Stein has his Bannisters restaurant in North Mollymook. His Weekends Abroad TV series (BBC) is keeping my desperation for European travel on a leash at the moment. If the purse doesn't stretch to his place, just below it is the Pool bar, it has really good pizza (Pat says 7/10, praise from a lad whose Dad built them a pizza oven in their backyard.) and party rooms that made sharing all the orders with B's Dad and family - delicious. The honey baked brie with bread made at the bar is just what you need after wallowing about in the sea all day. One of the home ware stores in Milton had copies of all of Rick Stein's recipe books for sale and was selling a Finnish game, similar to the French boules which kept the 'young ones' on their toes in the evenings.

Finska with M & B although Willow was the champion. Bought from 'Home at Last'on Wason St, Milton.

   R. Stein's Bannisters at Mollymook. This is the Roast Pumpkin and Feta pizza but my fav, the Capricciosa, introduced me to the delights of smoked mozzarella! Willow said that one time when they had been there in the evening, a guest from the attached hotel was doing laps in the infinity pool. Very relaxed!

Jay walking is a life threatening pastime in these towns on the Princes Highway, so we made sure we headed to the pedestrian crossings to make it across safely. The strangest little antiquities and odds and ends store around (Nikki B's) and the surf shops line the eastern side of the street of Milton. The community is to vote this Valentine's Day if and where the by-pass will be built to keep the southern through traffic away from the local roads. 

Ulladulla harbour (Go on say it fast lots of times!) - the clouds swished from inland to the Tasman with barely a sprinkle. 

Our destination, a holiday rental in Mollymook, had a couple of turn offs along the 15min drive between Milton and Ulladulla, this is where we had to go to pick up the keys from the real estate agent. It is a more industrial looking town, spread out and not as cutesy as Milton or Berry. It is home to a great second hand books store run by the Lions so you never need to worry about running out of books for those lazy beach days. The harbour is full of fishing boats and I have it from a local authority, that in high seas, teens have been known to even get a surf in there. At the southern end of the Ulladulla strip is Hayden's Pies with a most impressive menu,  fabulous sounding and tasting pastry with delicious fillings. Another take out to look for is the Schnitzel House and Oyster bar, huge choice of schnitzels and burgers - including vege, and the best chips and coleslaw. (Our takeout order above was way to much food - share one serve between two - unless you want a Caesar salad the next day of course.) The Berry farm, which we had planned to go picking at, was still closed due to fire damage but they were getting plenty of local support at their ice cream van. Cones piled high with good south coast dairy with whipped berries mixed through from the surviving bushes.

M took his drone and was rather nervous of flying it over the ocean! One morning was still enough for him to risk a fly over.

Collers beach, just a stair way down the bank, got full dawn sun -  so perfect for those morning swims.

The cliffs and bays are fringed by glorious golden sand beaches, clear waters and fascinating creatures in the air, pools and rocky ledges. The water was warm enough for bracing 9am daily swims to burn off the excesses of an array of great eateries and perfect for splashing about late mornings. Mollymook beach is long and swimmers are protected by lifeguards and flags at the south end and the north. A surf school runs up the northern end and in the middle is a reef where more experienced surfers can get some good breaks when the conditions are right. 

Morning, Noon and Night - Mucking about on the coast.  Plenty of Aloe Vera after sun spray in the afternoons.

Endlessly interesting shapes and life forms found when clambering around rock shelves.

Before it is sand - in a tiny corner of a tiny bay - far from the usual tracks.
Eventually will these shells and stones wash down to be the golden sand of the bays either side?

B showed us a couple of local spots where the swimming was good. Burrill Lake empties into the sea via a narrow channel. This forms a very quickly flowing stream that was more fun than the tube ride rivers at The Palm in Dubai or QE II pool in Christchurch. No having to drag out and carry your floaty ring - just sail down floating on your back or front, side stroke fast as you come around to miss the eddies by the rocks and out onto the sand bank to run back across to do it again. Doing things like that knocks a few years off you.

Lake to sea - Warm, fabulous water fun but without fun park rules and limitations.

Plenty of warnings. The only recorded drownings are out on the beach in sea rips - not in the flow from lake to sea, all international tourists. Heartbreaking. Talk to lifeguards on the big beaches about reading the sea for dangers.

The next afternoon B suggested politely that we all go in his 4WD Subaru to a beach on the edge of a National Park. M was pretty glad that his low hung saloon stayed in the driveway because the access road looked like a goat track off the Princes Highway, if those goats were elephants. The ruts in some places were so deep that other drivers had given up and left their cars on the side and had walked to the car park. One four wheel drive was 'testing his suspension' - seriously that was the observation made, by deliberately driving up a steep sand/bush bank across two 1/2 m deep ruts. What a joy though when we broke out onto the beach. Around 3kms of golden sand, clear sea with sandy bottom and no seaweed! Rock pools to the side for creature spotting and big swells past the breakers for the best float in the world. Plenty of little breaks up and down for hands on mums and dads teaching their kids to surf but no crowds. We could have done with a Coolcabana (https://coolcabanas.com.au/ - must have beach accessory 2021) to rest in shade before spending another couple of hours out. 

Wairo Beach via Potholes rd (seriously - the best reason for a council to never send the grader down).
This is just past Dolphin Point and as I floated out in the swell I was hoping to sea a few friendly fins. I saw them most mornings out from Coller bay, paying no attention to the jet skis getting in for a closer look, too far out to swim though. 

Holiday Blues - wonderful water and big skies. Far superior to the psychological ones when you're back at work.

North end of Mollymook beach. Top right - Australian Design winner - Coolcabanna - made a big splash on the beaches - they were out of stock so we had to rely on our big brimmed hats. B waited patiently for waves but they were very small this day. 

Surfing is a serious business down the coast! At the crack of dawn carloads of youths would circle past our place jumping out and excitedly sharing all the rumours and science of where to go for the best waves. They never bothered to get out their boards though because each morning the sea was flat and calm. Dolphins frolicked with the jet skis, fishermen pulled shiny red flappers out by the rocks and shags dove for their breakfast then dried themselves on a particular tree in front of us. Sometimes there were six of various types fanning their wings with their backs to the rising sun. I named it the shagging branch and was immediately told off by the daughters - hmmm.

Just before the surfers came by each morning, a rabbit hopped up onto the lawn and ate up all the dropped pink flowers from a butterfly bush in the front garden. It never ate them straight off the bush. A pond sported frogs and tadpoles and a waterlily opened every morning. A pair of black birds would peer in the open french doors hoping for a crust or two and a very cheeky Magpie-lark would squawk at us then Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle a little under its breath before squawking again. One afternoon I sat reading outside, enjoying the breeze slipping up the bank to cool my sunburnt knees, when it hopped up onto the table, nestled itself down on the glass about 10cm away and turned its cocky little head as if it too was disgusted with the Lee Child novel I had open. Neither of us could believe that he had his victims - a potato farmer too stupid to make sure his car was in condition to make their Canada to New York drive without breaking down at a highly suspicious motel (Rocky Horror anyone?) and his female companion - kill off several heavily armed  ... whoops spoiler.  

Rosella image from Australian Geographic

Sadly, as we were locking up on our last morning, a glorious Crimson Rosella flew straight into the floor to ceiling french doors. It sat stunned for quite some time as we all froze still trying not to stress it anymore. Eventually it fell over - dead. Willow would not let me pull out its tail feathers to keep for Granny, Petal even said taking a photo was bad form (this one is from the Australian Geographic website). B lifted it gently in Costco handy towels and placed it in the bush close by as an offering to the circle of life. I wasn't allowed to sing that as a funeral offering either. When did the younger generation get so serious?

Every morning the galahs, lorikeets, minors and magpie larks hunted through the treetops and hopped around on the front lawn after I threw out the left over toast or croissants from breakfast.

The sun rises on our last morning.

Beautiful Breakfast at Coast before B heads off to fix his Pop's tractor, Willow goes to relieve Persephone's carer's, Petal drives back to Sydney to rescue K and Corn from Charlie's demands and M and I meander back the long way. Willow said that this cafe reminded her of New Zealand, an old colonial house converted to rooms full of tables for eating.

And so we had to leave this beautiful place but because it is only 3 hours from home we decided to dawdle, to put off that which must be done, to unpack and prepare for work again this week. Willow stayed another couple of days with B's family who had been cat sitting Percy - daily visits of course. Petal leapt into the Skoda - tore up through the scenic route to avoid tolls and picked up Chaz from K and Corn before we were even half way home. B had said the B73 through Kangaroo Valley was worth the twists and turns. He was right.

Great shopping and eating at Kangaroo Valley. Quite a few cutsy B&Bs that could do with Sydneysiders booking in for a lazy weekend. Lots of scenic bush walks to do, the pub has a movie sized screen outdoors and Nostalgia , a store of secondhand and new delights has a well stocked 2nd hand bookstore down the back.

As a staff member for Fitzroy House, I figured we had to stop in at the falls named after this N.S.W. governor. A ranger told me that his brother was the Captain of the Beagle - the ship that took Darwin to the Galapagos, good to learn something new.   

The Hampden bridge is a one way crossing of the Kangaroo river.
It was opened in 1898 and named after Governor Hampden (from 1885-1899) 

Temps just right for an open roof - the valley was green and most of the traffic was heading in the opposite direction.

Not drone footage - Phone footage. I wonder how much water there is normally in January - is there a normal to our weather patterns anymore?

Read no young adult fiction this week; none for school - all for me!

Factory 19 by Dennis Glover (Not the NZ poet of the same name who wrote 'The Magpies' whence the Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle is quoted from.) Interesting premise that life was best in the 1940s with an insanely rich guy who wants to recreate it. 

The Last Days of the Romanov Dancers by Kerri Turner - well researched, not bad characterisation. Settings well described.

Eleanor Oliphant is completely Fine by Gail Honeyman - Brilliant. Into the heart of a real character as she pulls herself out of a past blocked from her every day existence. Hope! So well written. A debut novel.

Past Tense by Lee Child - Don't mind Jack Reacher in the films but will not waste another 3hours reading anymore.

Agent Running in the Feild by John LeCarre. He died Dec 2020 so Santa gave his last novel to M. Well written but not as complex or gripping as his earlier works.

Simon the Coldheart by Georgette Heyer - It was on the  shelf in the holiday house. She never wanted it re printed - her first novel - set in the 1400s - Knight rescues damsel from toad like  ... you get the drift. Apparently her husband's favourite so the daughter had it reprinted after her death. Love Georgette Heyer and will forgive the young authoress all. In a brilliant second hand bookstore in Kangaroo Valley village I found another early historical one - The Conqueror.

M added a Wilbur Smith and Alastair McLean from the house bookshelf to the thrillers I read after him. Funny that he didn't want to read my ones.

Petal is in a Heyer run.

Willow read Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart because it won the Man Booker last year. Not a light hearted read for a beach holiday though.