While Not Working

"Oh no!"  Roger stared in dismay at his pillow which should have been neatly tucked in the storage shed but was, instead, snuggled up with its motel fellows as we packed our bags for the plane. "It's my favourite pillow and it's only 10 years old too! Now ill have to leave it behind. Woe is me!" My pillow had pulled a similar trick bit I'm harsh: no way am I taking a manky 10 year old pillow to Perth and onward to Europe, even if it did fit it in my baggage.  It's brand new baggage I might add, and we're still learning its capabilities. A light bulb pinged in Roger's head. "My bag expands! I can fit my pillow in there and it doesn't matter if the bag's bigger because I'm checking it in anyway." So he did, which was a lot easier to say than it was to achieve. We got on a plane and flew to Perth which was quite the thrill as I hadn't been to Perth for 25 years, and never by plane. Clouds dulled the thrill somewhat but ...

An icy wind blew straight from Antarctica, teasing Australia's southern states with snow falling within 35km of the capital cities. Adelaide got all excited and briefly issued a tornado watch. Trees blew over right, left, and centre and power lines followed suit.  Tired travellers on aeroplanes from Singapore suddenly found themselves en route for Melbourne and crossing their fingers that it wasn't windy there too. We squeezed the car into its holiday digs and, for the first time ever, eschewed thermos coffee lakeside in Milang for scones and cream withv rellies in Mt Barker which was far more convivial and warmer to boot. Down in Milang the sun popped out between rain bands.  The wind, however, still spoke of icebergs and penguins. Tiny hailstones splattered on the rooftops and puddled in the gutters outside as we drank our tea. Not that I got to drink tea for long, because I had to catch a bus back to the Airport Motel to meet my old nemesis, work. Personally I think work on...

Days clicked by.  Not much happened in the world of whilenotworking except for work, which once again crept outside of its 2-day-a-week boundary and made a lie of the whole while-not-working thing. We were at the pointy end of house sitting, the bit where everything gets cleaned and polished and put back in place ready for owners' return.  There were sheets to wash, gardens to weed, and endless magnolia blossoms to sweep. Necessary groceries had to be procured for jet lagged owners, along with not so necessary but nice-anyway boxes of chocolate. In the middle of it all the not not-working the shower stopped draining and I locked myself out of the house and had to persuade a locksmith that I really truly did have the right to enter a house in which I couldn't prove I lived.  "If you're willing to go into a house with that ," said the locksmith, listening to Big Fluffy doing his best and boldest bark on the other side of the door, "I'm willing to let you in...

Here we are looking after Big Fluffy while his humans go gallivanting overseas. Big Fluffy is a dog and as such he's needy: he needs walks, people time, food, someone to chase him inside when he morphs into Barky McBarkface, etc etc  We've looked after dogs that couldn't be left outside and needed a human to let them out every couple of hours to do business which humans (us) then had to pick up.   Obligatory Big Fluffy photo. Big Fluffy is not a cat.  Cats exist on a higher plane, deigning to grant to humans the privilege of attending to their needs and accepting with graciousness a lap to lie on, regular food, and preferably a little outside time and a warm spot in winter.   Given a water bubbler, an automatic feeder, and a decent kitty litter setup a cat could be left alone overnight or even for a weekend.  "We don't care," cat owners chirp blithely, "Just leave some food and head out for the weekend."  Which, being the responsible little house ...

Dog and I are on our own.  Roger got tired of the rain and cold in South Australia so he jumped on a plane and went to Queensland.  The dog was not impressed: he missed having someone to follow around during the day while I was working.  He busied himself by running around in the soggy backyard protecting me from pigeons, only to be brought inside in disgrace due to barking at pigeons. The pigeons didn't care, either. Representative pigeon, not in the back yard.  But still not caring.   Roger explored Brisbane City on the ferries, making the most of 50c public transport and revelling in sunshine. He even went all the way up to the top of the Queens Wharf Sky Tower although he wasn't quite game to actually set foot on the transparent bits of the viewing deck.  He sent me lots of photos, just to make me jealous. Taking risks. Oh alright, I'm jealous. Brisbane city by night. By the time 4:30 clicked around the dog was quite bonkers from having been cooped...

    Back in 2022-23 the Murray River flooded, pouring warm, nutrient-rich water into the sea at the river mouth.  I pedaled along the foreshore at Goolwa and marvelled at the plume of muddy water while surfers swam in the chocolate waves amongst fish that didn't survive the sudden change in water temperature and salinity. Then in 2024 a summer cold water upwelling brought more nutrient-rich waters to the surface.  This was not something I noticed as I pedaled along the foreshore paths in Adelaide.  I didn't notice a marine heatwave happening out to sea, either, but a little marine algae callen Karenia found itself thriving in conditions ripe for multiplying.  Multiply it did, filling the waters of Gulf St Vincent with foam and discolouration, stripping the water of oxygen, damaging the gills of marine creatures, and producing toxins that affected the nervous systems of animals lucky enough not rely on gills to breath.   By the time I was walking a...