The Sea The Sea!

We went to Culburra for a couple of nights

2mbs-fm

Held captive for hours in the Book & CD bazaar.
hooray, only bought CDS!!

Things my little hens teach me.

There are four little bantams, but they range in size. The littlest gets chased away by the bigger 3  (‘henpecked’) when the food is out. She & I have a private arrangement whereby she follows me to a corner of the garden where I give her a small pile of grain of her own. She has to be quick, else the others rush over .This does not work when they are in the run, but sometimes we manage to work out another secret arrangement.

Generally Nanette, the littlest hen has a hard time of it. But at dusk, when it is time for rest, if she hangs about outside the gate waiting for the others to settle ( and not therefore peck her) the largest hen, Blanche, waits around for her and eventually head butts Nanette into the boudoir.  A sort of maternal responsibility. It touches me to see that this care is displayed at the end of the day. The peaceable kingdom

Flying to Perth

Do I look like a terrorist? At 5’1’’ with short grey hair I am beginning to look more like someone’s Gran.

Do I look like an arms dealer? Well yes , the carry on brief case with Lap top is a bit on the heavy side, it could be samples of weapons, but really it’s just the laptop and the water bottle (which was empty when coming through security) and a book & sandwich. (I like flying with Virgin, the meals are great, I bring them myself)

Oh, maybe I look like a geologist  or a blast supervisor from the North West? It’s the only reason I can imagine why I get stopped & tested for explosives at both Perth & Sydney airports at least once each time I cross the nation. I tell the operative, whose English is not often sufficient to cope with my irony, that my personality is magnetic, not explosive. So far I have passed the test. Probably should not push my luck.

New Chicken Hilton

Warm room arrived just in time for the cold nights!

At a Craft sale today

I purchased three handmade spurtles for $10. One will go to a family of ours who will be soon moving house! Along with relevant victuals.

Cockatoo Island 2010

It's been 4 years
since I went to Cockatoo Island. A few changes since then.  This time I took a friend who has not been before. It is a great ferry ride on the harbour and a good many things to look at once you are there.

amigurumi

Her name is Gulab meaning "Rose"

Kitwana, my new Pilates instructor. ever so gentle!

Christmas Hot Cross Buns

Well if I made a bet with myself, I lost. I guessed that hot cross buns would be in the shops before the schools go back. In this town that is the end of January. But they were advertised in this week’s Coles specials. Which means that the flyer was printed before 12th Night. I did not imagine it would be this soon. Hey, lets have Easter before Christmas next time round eh? Pity the Wise men, barely delivered their gifts, gone on their way & they are back to watch the star being extinguished
In the household in which I grew up, we had Hot Cross Buns on Good Friday at lunchtime, we had one each, it was all we had for lunch as we were fasting.
These days I feel that I occupy a strange territory, populated with people who think that my religious engagement is either excessive, or insufficient, and others who privately shake their heads and wonder why. Yet we are all happy to take the Public Holidays, do the shopping, and say,”well it is family time”. In my current household, I joke that every day is like Easter Sunday as I go hunting for eggs that the chickens like to hide in secret places. But that hunting time is also a time to remember to feel gratitude and thanks to a generous and loving Creator. And that joy can be found in strange places. Even when I fail to find the eggs.
I also feel for those of other faiths who are committed to their religious and faith practices. How must they feel when they cannot take time off to engage in their practice? And yet they have to endure the inevitable price rises that happen in our supermarkets, the parking hassles, the road rage (and just plain bad manners on the road) and the stress that a so-called Christian celebration imposes on everyone.
And I wonder about families and individuals who are struggling with loneliness , or D & A problems, or severe poverty, or the loss of special people, how stressed they must feel at this time of the year. There have been many road deaths in NSW this Christmas/New Year period, often involving more than one family member. How will next Christmas be for them?
I find the whole matter a dilemma. I don’t wish to sound like a mealy-mouthed naysayer, but I can’t help feeling cynical about the whole she-bang. Maybe Herod was not the only reason that the little family with the special babe headed off to Egypt. Though I wonder if that was not a nation of excess at the time? I bet they all would be shaking their heads in horror at what has become of Christmas and Easter.

Today we swam

At Leichhardt Pool
as we have been for some months.  It was Michael's request even though he is in a lot of pain. Only four more sleeps till he goes into St.Vincent's for a new hip. Please hope/pray/wish that all goes well with no complications.

The desert comes to Sydney

These photos were taken just after 6.15 am

Helping Lizzie prepare the veggie patch

P9070035

P9070035
Originally uploaded by peetemm

Sorry about the Powerhouse being on it's ear. I haven't refined video editting yet! But listen to the birds!
the Powerhouse is set near housing , but in a pocket of musical bushland

A day out to celebrate our years together

Interior of the Casula Powerhouse

Blacksmithing in Timbertown

And some lovely pieces from Don Marshall

Churches of Port Macquarie

In the stocks at Timbertown

Nelson Bay

Fear & The Pelican

Along the wharf, people are fishing, dressed against the cold weather. Inside the bay, a lone pelican is paddling back and forth, in search of breakfast. It seems strange, to see it alone. I usually see pelicans in small groups. I wonder if it has been rejected by its group. But I know nothing of pelicans. Small hens are my birds.

I walk to the end of the wharf, turn around to take more shots of the land, the morning sun glinting on glass, the buildings lit in a kaleidoscope as the sun is revealed through the parting clouds. Behind the land ridge, clouds are heavier, darker, threatening. The wind comes from the south, chilling me.

As I walk back along the wharf, I watch the pelican fly low, and land on the path ahead of me, near the fishing folk. Perhaps they know to throw it discarded fish, perhaps this is a disabled or elderly pelican. But I don’t think these thoughts yet. I think it would be good to take photos of Katja’s favourite creatures. Katja is coming to join our son, Justin. She is coming from Berlin. We love her and want to welcome her as best we can.

I take several photos, the pelican turning its head side on to observe me. I put the camera in my pocket and move to pass the pelican to leave the wharf.

The pelican opens its beak wide, and makes a trumpeting bellowing noise. I am warned away. I mutter, "It’s alright", but the bird is clearly not happy with me wanting to get closer.

So I retreat  to the other end of the wharf and wait to see if the pelican moves off. I divert myself by watching a sea bird patiently and unsuccessfully try to catch a fish. It dives, it swoops, and it hovers. But each vertical dive, so swift and elegant, brings no benefit. Its flight staggered as it leaves the water, battling the strong breeze. The wind chills me, I wonder the bird can bear it, once wet.

Three times I walk back along the wharf towards the fishers. The pelican turns its gaze towards me. I wonder if birds can sense my fear like dogs used to. Until I stopped fearing them.

Then I see an opportunity, a man is walking towards me-he will have to pass this bird, if I time my walking, the bird will have to deal with the two of us. I hasten my step, but I have left it too late, the man passes the pelican, and then me, before I have reached it. But the pelican had only moved to the side of the path when the man passed. That was all. I took courage from that, kept walking. Passing as far on the other side of the path without stumbling on the rocks, the bird turned to me, made a quiet clucking noise. “Yeah, two gulps and you’d be nice and warm in my belly”

  Elizabeth Mulrennan 2009

Elizabeth Mulrennan 2009

Dressed up in lights

Open Day at Auburn Gallipoli Mosque