The wildlife count today:
A stand of wallabies just over our boundary fence as I drove out, and a hare in the garden upon my return.
I am starting to feel as though I am living with an Australian version of a Beatrix Potter tale. Perhaps I should start calling Mr FD, Farmer McGregor?
Tragedy was averted in the Village today. Flamingo Dancer, exiting her drive in her white, hybrid Honda Civic, was forced to give way to a team of ducks who had, “without warning” decided to cross the road.
“Thank heavens I was driving below the speed limit,” commented Flamingo Dancer, still recovering from the near miss. “Otherwise, it may have been duck for dinner tonight!”
In the main street, three chickens pecked their way though town.
Flamingo Dancer, who only minutes before had survived a near duck tragedy, was seen to slow her vehicle considerably, but thankfully the hens remained on the green space.
The bird disturbance was not yet calmed, for returning home and halting her journey to check the mailbox, Flamingo Dancer disturbed a flock of Rainbow Lorikeets in the trees fronting the Flamingo Dancer property.
The Rainbow Lorikeet
“Oh my,” Flamingo Dancer was overhead muttering, “I thought life in the city was chaotic, but The Village is bordering on feathered bedlam!”
While the honeymooning Mr and Mrs Daughter2 were in New Zealand waking to morning snow and doing this:
I spent the day in my PJs, rising only to eat and put another load of laundry on, before cooking this:
Nice as it was, I think the honeymooning Mr and Mrs FD (keep up, remember the Bridegroom took the Bride’s Flamingo Dancer surname) are having more fun than the Senior Mr and Mrs FD.
Let it be said though, that I would never do the white water power boat thing. Snow yes, power boat, no.
Recipe link here.
Bread in hand, Petite Fille and I wandered down to the park, which has a creek running though it. Despite living in The Village for over two years, this was the first day I had actually visited the park. I know, sacrebleu!
I was hoping to find ducks, but just in case they had all headed north for the winter ( well, the three weeks of real winter we get, sometime) we billed it as “Going on a duck hunt”.
Our luck was in, not only were there ducks on the water, but turtles, dozens of turtles in the water, as well!
We stood on the foot bridge that ran over the creek and threw our bread into the water below, and were able to see big turtles, middle sized turtles and baby turtles all scrambling to the surface for the treat.
I have to admit that Grandma may have been slightly, okay, a whole lot, more excited than Petite Fille, at the sight of the turtles. PF though really enjoyed poking her bread through the wire mesh sides of the bridge. Grandma with her height advantage didn’t have to negotiate any mesh. Sometimes age and size wins out!
Bread supplies exhausted we wandered back home for our afternoon naps.
It was a good day.
Rain falling, lying in bed with Mr FD beside me and our tall trees visible through the open window, is almost a decadent way of starting my Easter break.
Two weeks before the new term starts and time to nurture my commitment to my teaching. Two weeks to forget how much I want to beat some children, and even more so their parents.
Mist filled the valleys and the hollows throughout the countryside as I drove to work these past two mornings. The mornings have had that autumn feeling that I have longed for, but the days continue hot. The misty morns touch the countryside with romance and fantasy.
A week or two ago, I caught sight of a woman driving a hot pink ice cream van down the highway. I don’t think it was still used as an ice cream van, there was no large ice cream cone attached to its roof and it didn’t play the tune Greensleeves, but there was no mistaking its origins.
The idea of buying an pink ice cream van and driving around the countryside seems appealing to me, somehow. Have you ever seen anyone who doesn’t smile when they see or hear an ice cream van? It always brings back happy memories of childhood, doesn’t it?
I fancied the adventure I might have, driving here and there at will, bringing smiles to people. They might wake and I would be parked outside, sitting beside my pink van, taking tea in the morning sun; or I could watch the sun set, before bedding down for a night in my little van. A trail of smiles would follow in my wake.
Just me, a large teapot, and my van. Sigh…
Carter, Jeff, 1928-2010. Orphaned joey wearing a winter overcoat made from an old sweater sleeve, Foxground, New South Wales, 1968
Everyone in the northern hemisphere seems to be heralding the arrival of spring, and considering the winter that you have experienced, I can understand.
We here in the southern hemisphere are however on a different seasonal calendar. We are waiting for autumn.
Here in our patch of subtropical Queensland, we are yet to experience a day below 30C. It has been an extremely hot summer with day after day over 35C and nights that did not allow enough cooling to be comfortable. I am so over summer, so over sweating, and teenage boy body odour after lunch sport, and fruit flies, mosquitoes, snakes, hail storms and cyclones, mould in the bathroom and having to drive in boiling hot cars at the end of the day.
Send me days to wear woollens, and nights to light fires. I need meals that are warm and comforting, and excuses to simmer thick soups. Socks and boots and fingerless gloves. Scarves!
Bring it on!
Autumn in the Adelaide Hills, South Australia