And suddenly it's Spring...

I have to say that the first day of spring has lived up to all of my very high expectations.

Look... I even got to stand barefoot in the grass without my feet turning blue:

Notice how blindingly white these feet are.  This is a symptom of a long, cold, and very wet winter.

I just rushed outside half an hour ago to take these photos while I was checking to see if my camera still works after months of disuse.  The poor thing has been sitting in its camera bag under my desk, getting dusty and dented.  After my 21st birthday party I ran out of things to take photos of, besides salami.

Beachy

After many failed attempts to hit the Australian beach this summer, I finally made it on what was probably one of the last beachy days this autumn: Good Friday 2012.  

beachy {adj}
Sunny and warm, with a slight hint of saltiness, stickiness and summer fun in the air.  Usually accompanies a public holiday and/or the last day of Term One.

It was Mum's wonderful idea to spend the public holiday out and about, so we looked for the closest beach on Google Maps, packed lunch, and then drove off without looking back.

In a few minutes I went from this:

Summer So Far (Rain)

Last night I wore my winter pyjamas to bed, threw an extra blanket on the bed, and even ended up cuddling a hot water bottle early in the morning.

Oh, and it's January on this side of the globe - heart of the Australian summer, land of deserts and golden beaches, sunburnt plains, bush fires, and all.

I think I'm getting a cold.

Good news is that I'm about to leave frosty Melbourne and head north on the weekend.  Ironic news is that the weather is going to go back to behaving normally and frying Melbournians on that weekend.  Irritating news is that it's going to be four degrees colder, and raining, in Brisbane while I'm there.

Obviously the rain is following me for a reason which I have not yet worked out.  I'm watching you, weather.  You can't get the better of me.


It was also mysteriously raining when I travelled down to the beach before Christmas.  I say mysterious because that morning had been a scorcher, hovering in the high thirties, and as soon as we started down the highway to Frankston in the afternoon, huge raindrops started hitting the car.  By the time we arrived there had been a cool change.

Thankfully, we were there for more than one cold afternoon/evening.  The next day the sky was that certain shade of blue which makes me feel like cart wheeling very happy.

Here is a rare photo of me on this anonymous blog:

What?  You can't see me?  I'm the blob in the middle.  Thank you to Sam for running off with my camera without permission and taking many out of focus shots.  That's what happens when you get some males to carry your very large camera.

It was still too cold to go swimming in the Victorian waters (ie. icy waters), but who can resist jumping over the water from orange rock to orange rock.

The water was so sparkly (I love sparkles).

I should also thank my erstwhile sibling and his photo-taking sidekick for taking me to the beach after lots of whining and pleading  I asked really nicely, when they could have spent the afternoon playing PS2 instead.

Thanks guys.

A Christmas Tale

Every year before Christmas I scrummage around in the cupboards looking for our Bing Crosby 'Do You Know It's Christmas' cassette tape.  It's usually buried under a pile of redundant cassette tapes and other examples of old and even more redundant audio thing-a-majigs.  

I also scrummage around in the cupboards looking for our Bing Crosby cassette tape before writing a blog post which mentions said cassette tape, so that I can make sure I have the title right.  After wasting five minutes and coating all my fingers in dust, I have a feeling my family is constantly hiding Bing Crosby from me (but that might just be a vicious rumour).

I love Bing Crosby cassette tapes!  

The first track (is it called a track on a cassette tape?) is my very most favourite Bing song:
White Christmas.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the tree tops glisten,
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow....


When you grow up in Australia, it doesn't take too long to realise that this song was not written about Australian Christmases.  If it was, Bing would sing it like this:

I'm sweating during a hot Christmas,
Just like I sweat every year
The melting tree tops are shimmering
The pool full of children is glimmering
And we all set fire to the barbecueeeeeeeee 

Sorry, I couldn't resist (most Australian versions of Christmas carols are lame anyway, so I fit right in).

At about 4:00pm on Christmas Day 2011 we were slumped sitting around the pool trying to digest the large amounts of food which had been consumed for lunch (hard work).
There was a little light bantering about who was going to go for a swim, who was going to get pushed into the pool, etc.  No one actually moved.

At that point the sun also went behind a very large black mass of clouds, and the hot air suddenly felt even hotter and more stifling.

Hands Up if You've Eaten a Mulberry

Firstly, I need to make a few housekeeping announcements.

You may have noticed a noticeable lack of WWWs lately (for those who are not in the lingo WWW stands for Wonderful Word of the Week.  (It may also stand for something else v. well known, but I choose to ignore that.)

That was intentional (i.e. I have not forgotten that I was planning on expanding my vocab on a weekly basis), but I decided to take a little break because my vocab has been challenged without my own doing.  It's called studying too many university course texts and readings.  The definition of a university course reading is as follows:

A document of around 22 pages written by an academic who is trying to convince you of his or her own opinion or theory.  Is always peer-reviewed and contains words which have probably been invented by the author themselves while formulating their theories on which they are now trying to convince you.  Very hard to understand and must always be read multiple times, and with the knowledge that you are never going to fully comprehend what was written.  It's a given.

You can't even use a normal dictionary as an aid while reading one of the above.  No, you need a specifically academic dictionary related to your discipline:  the theology dictionary, a philosophy dictionary, or in my case, a dictionary of sociology.

What I'm trying to say is that I just don't have it in me to attempt a WWW for a little while.

I'm sticking with the simple things in life...

WWW: Lilliputian

On the first day of spring - September 2011 - I took the following photos:

These green parcels appeared on the previously bare branches practically overnight.

A word comes to mind...

Fire Rain

If you like technically correct photos with some clarity and aesthetic appeal, then please keep moving on.  The  following images are probably not for you.

If, however, you like something a little more edgy and off the wall (and possibly not technically correct) then you can continue with my blessing.

What happens when it begins to rain during a gloriously blazing sunset?

Fire rain.  (Obviously)

Under the Apple Tree

I just can't get over this weather.

See the sky?  That is a good colour for sky to be.

Melbourne is incredible.  I have no idea what temperature it's going to throw out next.

Well, I guess one can look at a weather forecast if one wants to have an idea of what the weather will be next.  A moment please... Mmmm.  I don't think I should have had a look.  It says it's going to get consistently colder.  It might be wrong.  One of my life's guiding principles is 'Never trust the Weather Man'.  This stems off another guiding life principle which is 'Never Trust Technology'.

WWW: Wamble [and cherry blossoms]

Hello.  It's been a while.

At least it feels like it's been a while.

I'm pretty sure I'm just now emerging from some blurry place between conciousness, smothering doona covers and slices of dry toast.

I have to say I'm pretty sure since I haven't been sure of much these past few days.

Stomach bug.

Inverloch

Well, there's not much to say with these photos.

high tide at the inlet

We had a great time, it rained a lot, and I went to the beach.
Here's some proof.  In this photo you can see the sky about to break open and deluge us with fresh water.  Hehe, let's just say we didn't have to jump into the ocean to get wet.

stormy sky 

Before it rained we ate chips.

what we do at the beach

overdoing the effects as usual

I could tell you more, like what movies we watched, and what we ate, but you'd probably find that boring (ever seen a John Wayne classic?).

There was one nice-weather day.

shall we swim?

Is it just me, or are the above rocks a little different?
I hereby declare them to be retro rocks, because they are chunky and clunky.

sparkly

"ahhh"

I hope you all have a beach moment this summer, and that it doesn't rain on your parade.

just to prove i was there

A Pocket of Time

It's nice when you can set aside a little pocket of time in a very busy life, to just do nothing much.

Time to just sit back, relax, and stare at distant horizons.

Sigh

I believe that you need to get away from all that busyness and bustle before it drives you mad, so that's what we did.
On a grey morning two weeks ago, we set off on the two-hour and a bit drive to Phillip Island, and arrived in sunshine.
(Actually it was also a little wild, windy, and crisp.  But ever so lovely.)

Southern side, overlooking Bass Strait

I recommend wide open spaces uncluttered by anything built by mankind, and very fresh air directly from The Source which hasn't passed through someone else's lungs/car/air conditioning unit.

Sunderland Bay, Phillip Island is a good place.

Climb a cliff (on the conveniently provided board walks with sturdy railings to stop you plummeting into the sea), and take it all in.

It doesn't get much fresher than that, let me tell you.  

From left to right: Dad, Mum, Jono and Me.

Our pocket of time lasted for something like five days (it all merges into one lazy afternoon in my mind.)

Garlic Prawns at the Fisherman's Co-op, San Remo. Yum.

We went to the supermarket (a lot) and ate good food (possibly too much), we wandered into a Saturday craft market, down the main street of Cowes, across the pier, onto the beach, down the esplanade, through the rain, burnt by the sun and blown by the wind.  

When we weren't out we were in watching the Commonwealth Games in Delhi, or endless episodes of Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em.  

We visited Churchill Island and saw nice old things inside the homestead (1879), and nice young things (baby animals) outside in the farm.

This nursery had the most adorable nursery-rhyme wall paper.

   

I ran out of space on my memory card trying to get a shot of these frisky lambkins without blurring them (I failed utterly).

Awwww. Hello baby

There was the sweetest baby calf, baby rabbits, baby mice (not), and a baby horsey.  I love horses, especially ones with little hooves, soft noses, and squeaky neighs.  Awwww
A seven-day-old Clydesdale baby.  Very sweet.

Churchill Island is now owned by the government, but it was once owned privately.  This is me...dreaming about owning my own private island.

Not mother's best angle, right Junior?

My family's little pocket of time on Phillip Island was very satisfactorily filled.
Now we're back doing busy things, meeting due dates, keeping appointments, and crossing days off the calender.

But, I'll be back on P. Island sometime soon...

Blackberry winter

September equals


warm days, cold nights, Jonathan's birthday, blueberries, Grand Final fever, rain showers, blossoms, last holidays before Christmas, wattle, chai tea AND ice cream (happy medium), boot sales, Father's Day, new leaves on the trees...and September blues, which in my case means a lull in the mode of frantic assignment writing I've been trapped in.  


Last uni assignment was handed in on Friday, and now I'm a free woman! (for two weeks)  
So, I'm finally writing my first blog post.  (I can't say it's my first EVER, since I already wrote a 'tester'.  It was promptly deleted as the only thing I write was 'testing' about 100 times.)


It's finally spring, so I googled 'spring synonyms' just because I love words.  Among other boring terms, blackberry winter stood out.  Apparently, if you're in Tennessee, you know it's blackberry winter when there is a cold snap just as the weather is warming up.  I'd say that's now, since this morning I was wearing a t-shirt, and now I'm wearing two hoodies, ugg boots, and jeans + leggings.  I'm not in Tennessee, but why not make blackberry winters universal?
(The only slight problem is that blackberries come out in a totally different season over this side of the globe.)


On Sunday, I wheedled Dad to walk me down to the Gully down the road.  It's really only a puny scrap of land wedged in between someone's property, and the dirt road, but deep down by the dry creek bed (it slopes down quite a bit) it's dark, secluded and beautiful.  On one side of the creek stands a pine 'forest', and the other is full of slender young gum trees - quite a contrast. 

Who owns this gorgeous piece of land?

Once upon a time we picked wild blackberries by the recycled-plastic-Chinese-container-full, every February.  Now, the blackberries have completely disappeared...sprayed? 

Spring has left the creek bed full of vibrant green grass, brown puddles, and an old car.

A piece of junk can look so beautiful when nature has grown over it.

I don't go there much, but the Gully will always be a part of my literary treasury.  It's the setting for a short story I wrote to enter into the Alan Marshall Short Story competition.  Maybe I'll put it up on my new blog someday... 


The sky is periwinkle blue today.  There are no clouds trapping any warm sun rays so the air is crispy cold.  The only blackberries in this blackberry winter are the frozen ones we have in our mixed berry box in the freezer.  

Weeds can be pretty...