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Plans And Parties

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We spent the night at the Airport Motel, ready to fly to Sydney early the following morning and on to Japan on Monday. Just before bedtime Roger realised, to his horror, that his paperwork to enter Japan had entered the black hole of cyber space and had therefore never been processed. Grovelling emails to the correct address elicited a brusque response: "Tough bickies. Apply again. Must submit application 14 days before travel." Weeping ensued. The hard ut inevitable conclusion was that one of us couldn't leave on Monday but the flight to Sydney was still on because we had birthdays and wedding anniversaries to celebrate. Sorting it all out had to wait as the clocked ticked relentlessly toward our early morning departure. Adelaide Airport before dawn. We were at the airport well before sunrise, intent on beating the excessive crowds queueing to pass through security.  As it turned out I could have slept in a little longer. Overwhelmed. Still no sign of sunrise. About time...

Winding Down, Packing Up.

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Five weeks in Mount Barker zipped past with my grand plans of hiking and biking largely unrealised. What with working an extra day every week, hot weather, and two needy little dogs I didn't get out much. On the other hand Roger spent inordinate amounts of time driving up and down the highway to Adelaide for such mundane reasons as car servicing, physio appointments, and dropping people off to airports. We both complained bitterly about our respective ends of the stick. Sunrise was pretty thought.  A week or two ago we decided on the spur of the moment to take ourselves off to Japan and South Korea for a holiday, and with very little time before we left the country we had to convince Japan that Roger could bring with him his drugs to deal with a possible back attack. I'll spare you the details. Sufficient to say that one does not waltz willy-nilly into Japan bearing anything remotely resembling narcotic.  Paperwork is required. Sunrise still happens, paperwork or no. In the me...

Watermelon Seeds And Beetles

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When I was younger I caught up with family members at their weddings. Then I caught up with them at their children's weddings. Time marched on and I caught up with family at the funerals of the generation ahead of me: parents, uncles, aunts. Then a milestone happened and the first of my generation died after a protracted illness and in true (my) family tradition he didn't invite anyone to his funeral and instead invited us all to a celebration of life with instructions to tell many stories and the funnier the better. That was how I found myself in Brisbane for a couple of days, perusing public libraries and attending a wake where I caught up with cousins that I hadn't seen since they were in primary school. Both myself and the cousin whose life we celebrated were the second children born to our respective parents, part of the first trickle of what would become a torrent of cousins, and we spent quite a bit of time together at the family farm. Black and white photos show us ...

Travel, and Public Libraries.

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Baby teeth are unpredictable things, parting company with their owner at the most inconvenient times, especially if the owner wants to keep them. Inching along in an airport security queue, I watched a little girl, fiddling happily with her loose tooth, suddenly dislodge it altogether. There were tears, squeals of disgust from an older sibling, and a breathless rescue as the tooth slipped from little fingers and bounced across the airport floor.  A patient Dad tucked the ivory into a corner of his wallet and promised direct communication with the tooth fairy.  Everyone in the queue giggled and smiled and discussed the current market value of a used tooth which, I might add, is considerably higher than back when I was trying to convince weeping children that the tooth fairy would still honour swallowed teeth and we really didn't need to search for it at the other end. The weather was perfect for flying.  Perfect weather aside, Qantas/Alliance needed to upgrade their window...

I Went Walking.

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 I joined the Bridgewater Adelaide Hills Walking Group, and off I went to find all sorts of places that I would never have found had I been walking by myself. An added bonus was having people to talk with while walking, including the company of a woman armed with binoculars for the purposes of koala spotting. She was good at koala spotting, too.  While I wandered along looking at trees and making new friends, she spotted koalas right, left, and centre.  Walk 1. Walk 2. Of course there was more to walking than spotting koalas.  Across the valley I spotted an old stone hut, once used for drying tobacco.  It was a very smokey morning, courtesy of bush fires in Victoria and an easterly breeze. We walked on steep little roads past vineyards where grapes were drying on the vines, "We don't do hills," the walk leader informed me happily. "Just the occasional gentle incline!" Yeah right. Just a slight incline.   At the bottom of another gentle incline I climbed a s...

New House, New Dogs, New Neighbourhood

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After 8 months of rigorous exercise and an enthusiastic return to riding his bike, Roger raced out to rake the leaves in the gutter preparatory to leaving our sit with Long and Short, and hurt his back.  In as long as it took to say "Ouch!" he was flat on his back in bed, surfacing from a drug-and-pain-induced haze only to think of more things that needed to be done in the narrow overlap of time between starting one sit and ending another. And we thought we were so smart having them end and start on the same day: turns out it's better to have a buffer of a few days in between to accommodate such inconveniences as bad backs and one person having to do two person's work. I collected two weary house owners from the airport and delivered them to two rapturous dogs.  Then I collected my fragile husband and we drove up the hill to two dogs who were not at all rapturous to see us and had to be bribed with bones to stop them barking. As the evening came on they were easily co...

Don't Try New Things While The Fishermen Are Watching

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Enough of this paddling around West Lakes in the Tub: we had a brand new sea-worthy battery and a spiffy little electric motor and Roger was champing at the bit to try it all out in wider waters. He decided to take the whole lot down to Milang where we could go for a spin on the waters of Lake Alexandrina and then pack the Tub into our storage shed for the next week or two while we changed house sits again. Of course we forgot that it was Australia Day, and every man and his dog (and the kids, the BBW, the jet ski, the power boat and everything that gets pulled behind it, etc...) had all gone to Milang to revel in the cool breezes and benign shallows of the lake. A crowd of fishers, and I use that term loosely because I don't think they posed any threat to the local fish population, watched with breathless interest as we clipped the Tub together and readied it for sail paddle. They were fascinated by the pedal flippers, by the clipping of the boat together, by the battery and elec...