New Dreams

Let me introduce you to Mr Orange Cumquat
Or 'Sunshine' as he is sometimes called.

We met when we were (very) young
So we've been married a (very) long time

                         
 He's a man who likes the outdoors

   
And 'going bush ' when he can

                     
He's been a great Dad

 

And worked hard for us all 

                                           

The years have flown

Mr Orange Cumquat is sadly not so well these days
And it's been a difficult time
For him, especially,
to come to terms with the Parkinson's
that is changing his life




My bossy red headed man
With his fiery temper and strong certainties
Has gone into hiding
And we miss him

The world changes
We have to change with it
To make new memories
From new dreams

Something to cry about

It was a beautiful day here at my home
I've lots work to do and I need to atone
For last weeks debacle (and nasty burn)
And I have some self respect I need to re-earn

.....So I pulled out my trusty old mower
And set to work

I gave the 'oval' in the middle of the driveway a bit of a spruce up.
(The bricks are a work in progress. ... though it must be said, this is as far as the old chimneys progressed after they were demolished several years ago....)

Alas the home orchard needs more than a little spruce (up)
It needs a complete makeover
And a lot of TLC

 

I gave it a burl, I gave it a try

But my poor old mower gave up with a sigh

Then so did I!

So much for regaining some self respect. 

I ended up utterly exhausted! 

Puffing and wheezing like a steam train climbing a mountain

I felt quite defeated

I wished I was 'The Little Engine That Could'

It was one of my favourite stories when I was a child 

I wallowed in self pity for a bit

How absurd am I?

A middle aged grandmother

who needs to grow up

still wishing life was a fairy tale.

I do have one success to brag of though

With all my lack luster endeavours to fix up our property 

I haven't been creating much (other than chaos)

But I did manage this

My first dish cloth, of which I in-ordinarily proud.

And you, everyone, is/are absolutely right

Once you've used one, you don't want to use anything else.

I'm working on number 2 now. 

I'll just keep reminding my self 

That if I was a 'The Little Engine That Could'

I wouldn't be able to crochet

And that really would be

Something to have a cry about.

Shaken not stirred.

This is a bit long .....

I guess we all have a view of ourselves

I think of myself as a certain kind of woman of a certain kind of age

Homely and unadventurous

Who reads and sews and crochets

I've never been bungee jumping or walked the Inca Trail

I'm happy with the gentle thrills that life sends my way

I like hunting for treasure and fantastic thrifting finds

I enjoy gazing at the world through my lens

Finding Public Art and unexpected vistas

I like trees 

And photograph them...

When I visit my parents

When I take my grandson to the zoo

And when I'm in my garden

I think I'm gentle, and kind,

somewhat dull, but caring and careful.

So it comes as something of a shock

To find myself responsible for 

This

I rang the Volunteer Bushfire Brigade

Asking them if they could do a burn on our verge

It hadn't been burnt in over 25 years

And seemed long overdue for our bush fire prone area.

I spoke to a Vollie, as we call them here,

Who said, 'yes indeed, now is the perfect time to get the job done'

'rain is coming, and it will soon be too wet', 

'but you'll have to do it yourself.'

He was very helpful with advice, had had a look at the area.

Told me how to prepare it, make the necessary firebreaks,

and how to beat it out if it looked like getting away.

'Call me', he said, 'if you've got any worries.'

So the weekend came round

I got my adult children to help

We loaded up with water and shovels

We cleared the firebreaks and lit the match.

And whoosh.

What started out as a small fire quickly grew

It engulfed the trees, the wattle exploded

And all hell broke loose

The flames grew at an alarming rate 

Threatening our power line that came from across the road

The containment lines were secure

just the odd spot fire to put out

It was all over in minutes

But, not to put too fine a point on it,

It was, without doubt, the most frightening experience of my life.

That was it for me. I refused to tackle the rest.

It was simply too dangerous. Fire is not to be tinkered with

Even in winter, if the rains don't come.

It was just too warm, too dry with too much fuel to burn.

Less than a quarter of the verge is now prepared for next summer

It's a problem that wont go away 

So there's some serious work is ahead. 

Clearing, cutting and yes, even another burn.

I suspect my view of myself

As a quiet observer of life,

ever afraid of their own shadow,

Is in for quite a shake up.