It's not the seven year itch

Several things have been keeping me from blogging, mainly the inability to sit for long.  Not because I am fidgety.  My back is the problem, it simply hurts if I sit for any length of time.  I gave thought to giving up the blog altogether but realize it has become a diary of the past seven years of my life.  Yep, my first post was 23 January, 2009.  I've re-looked at my early posts and smiled at some of the memories I found there.  Memories of my much younger grandchildren, the pleasure I've had in watching them grow.  Of places I've been and sights I've seen, the people who have added colour to my life in that time.   

In another seven years how will I remember the day to day events of my current life?  Not very well, I imagine, without a blog.   

How will I be able to remember what year the family camped on the farm, at the dam, for Christmas? 

I didn't take all that many photos of our Christmas adventures.  But the other keen photographers in the family did.  Here is a collection.

 
Literally camping with the cows.  If you look carefully you will see there is a wire between the cows and the tent.

The young ones enjoyed the water activities

 
Kids of all ages enjoyed the water slide

 The young and fit set off to climb to the tower on the nearby mountain

Twice we all set off to explore further up the creek.

Wading upstream in the shade of the surrounding forest was the perfect activity during the hottest part of the day.

The aim was to find the waterfall that Heather and I were sure was upstream.  It might not be all that large but we felt quite triumphant when we found it.

Any aches and pains could be washed away in the outside bath.  The water came in alkathene which ran along the top of the grass, heating the water very effectively.

And even as the sun went down there was eel fishing for those with the energy.

Solar powered lights meant we didn't have to spend our nights in the dark.  The moon was full and very bright.

 

So I can manage a post if I do it in 10-15 minute sittings but I really can't manage sitting long enough to visit other blogs.  I will try but I honestly don't think I can any longer belong to the blogging community I've enjoyed so much.

Old favourite places

The dam on the new block is a favourite spot with the grandchildren but, for me, the creek is still the best.  I took a walk along its banks one evening a couple of days ago.   I'd been sewing all day, and I hadn't produced what I'd hoped.  In fact I threw the outcome into the bin in disgust.  I still can't figure out where I went wrong but there's no doubt I did.  Go wrong, that is.  Twice.  After I stuffed it up the first time I unpicked it and tried again.  Couldn't believe I made exactly the same mistake again. 

The sound of water running gently over rocks was just what I needed.  I sat for a while near the spot where another little stream falls into the creek. 

 

I wandered on (and scrambled in parts) enjoying the reflections where the water was calmer.

On the way home I stopped by the dam to see how much the baby mallards had grown.  There's one that is so much braver than the others which hide in the rushes the minute I arrive.  Or maybe less smart as it took very little notice of me.  It has yet to learn about Stranger Danger.  It did, however, stay on the far side of the water.  I had to sit patiently for ages until it came a little closer.

Not close, but close enough.  I had to crop the shot and am more than happy with it.

Fresh fields and pastures new

It's been six years since Shayde, Georgia and I had our mystical adventure tracking the creek which runs through the farm, up through our neighbours farm, up towards its source in the forest.   Now that farm is part of this farm and I am free to wander there again. Pastures new for the cows - and me.

Yesterday was such a lovely, bright sunny day I decided I couldn't wait for someone to visit who might want to accompany me and set out on my own.  I can't think of anything better than strolling in the sunshine beside a creek, listening to the babble as the water rushes over rocks.  I remembered the place where the girls announced there was magic but luckily I didn't need anything more than my gumboots and a walking stick to help me keep my balance as I crossed. 

From this point on I needed to cross the stream a number of times as I picked my way, deciding which side was the easiest bank to walk along.  In some places a bank is steep, in others the thick bush grows right down to the water.

I found a tiny waterfall in under a bank of thick vegetation, where another little stream leads into this one.  I was alerted to it by the sound of falling water or I wouldn't have known it was there.

My photos aren't very good.  I set out without looking at the clock.  It was the middle of the day (and I was feeling more than a little peckish by the time I got back home).

Finally I came to where the fairies live.  For a minute I thought I saw a little girl playing there, too.  But the little girl has grown now and no longer lives in the magical world of a six year old. 

This is as far as we went last time we came up here.  And as far as I could go this time, too.  I couldn't find a track on either side to follow.  I will come back in summer with suitable footwear and wade the rest of the way.

I want to see what lays ahead. 

I left the creek and followed a track through a paddock until I came to the boundary fence with the forest.  I will think of that paddock as the place of the pheasants.  I first one I disturbed took flight from under my feet practically.  I got such a fright, I dropped my walking stick.  I've never seen so many of them in one place before!

The tower on the mountain is a lot closer up here.

And there are the cows enjoying their new pasture.  I'll have to go up the other side of the creek to get to there. 

Along the creek

It's very dry along the park at the back of my brother's house here on the south side of Brisbane.  There's not much watee in the creek but the ducks and swamp hens are enjoying what's there.

Creek weather

It's definitely creek weather.  And thanks to a bit of rain lately, the creek is flowing nicely.  It is such a great place for children of all ages to have fun.

Mother has to make sure all parts of the little body are covered in sunscreen.

I was a kind granny before Christmas and bought Georgia a little fish net, it's turned out to be a real hit.  Georgia caught lots of tiny fish yesterday.

Anyone got any idea what this is?

Home from the creek, the little bloke is a bit worn out.

A few hours later, when he and I were home alone to see in the New Year, those tired eyes were slow to close.

They will close soon, won't they?  (please......)

And now he's gone.  Miss him already.  My New Year's wish is that I see lots of him during the year.

Happy New Year to all.

We saw the mallets

Every summer Georgia and I spend some time down at the special place along the creek where we first saw the little fish she declared were mallets.  That was in January,09.

We haven't seen them since that magical summer when we saw them a few times.  

On Friday, they were there again!  And Georgia's delight as a 9 year old was no different to how it had been as a 6 year old.  I often wonder how much longer her pleasure in the little routines we have developed will last.   I try to prepare myself for the time she thinks she is too old for such childish activities. Seeing the mallets reassures me we will have at least one more summer of simple pleasures. 

As I sat and watched her and we chatted I couldn't help but notice how she has grown but still does exactly the same things she did when she was years younger.  She still spends a lot of time bending down picking up rocks.  She still picks them up and brings them to show them to me.  The rocks are a bit bigger now than they used to be!

Some things have changed - she no longer strips down to her knickers as soon as she sees water.

She still picks up weeds and asks me to photograph them.  She still throws rocks as high as she can into the air so that they land with a big plop.  This is the first photo I've ever taken of her doing that.  In the past it was wise to keep an eye on the rock but she can be trusted now to throw it so that it doesn't land on my head (or hers).

 Some things change - some things stay the same.  And I am so thankful for that.

Next time I post I will be in Taranaki! 

It's spring

The flowers might be confused.  No sping flowers have bloomed in my garden as yet.  But the birds get it right every time.  Around my place it's the sparrows.  They nest in the passionfruit vine outside my kitchen window and that vine is seeing plenty of spring action believe you me!  

Sometimes the whole vine is shivering and shimmering with their goings on.  The girl sparrows (I can tell the difference by the way they lift their tails) flutter and flit from vine to nearby tree.  Flutter and flit....not fly.  They flutter to the tree and as soon as they are pursued by another, they flit back to the vine. I can almost hear the giggling. 

I was watching them one day when Georgia asked what I was looking at.  "The sparrows"  I said, and she watched them for a minute, too, before remarking, "What is WRONG with those birds?"  

"Umm, umm"  best put it in terms a farm raised girl will understand "they are on heat."  

She shrugged, "That explains it!" and went back to what she was doing. 

Over at my friend, Chris' place the main action is in the mallard duck department.  She sent me a photo of two females and many, many males gathered on her front lawn. 

Yesterday I took a photo of a bridge beside the road and the creek in overflow.

I stopped at the same spot today.  What a difference a day makes.  Odd that it looked so much better in the lousy weather yesterday.

Surely not more rain.....

You'd think surely not.  And you'd be wrong.

When the alarm shrieked this morning, I heard the rain on the roof even before I had turned it off.  My first thought was how on earth had I slept through that drumming on the roof.  Not the first time that's been my first thought in the morning.  Some of the noises I've slept through have been quite remarkable.  No, not the noises themselves, the fact I've slept through them has been remarkable.  I was blessed to inherit a very sound sleeping gene.  

So I had no idea what time the rain started and how heavy it had been during the night.  There was a bit of water over the road but it was just surface flooding, not overflow from the creek which was still behaving itself inside its banks.  

So I was a bit surprised when I saw what the creek was up to by the time I returned home from work.  It was really running amok up the other end of the road, a bit better behaved down this end.  These young guys were right up to the edge of the road.  Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks, the water wasn't all that deep in their paddock, not near the fence anyway.  The water had been higher during the day and was going down - they will be alright.

As will these guys.  But they did look so forlorn.  And where is that little jersey calf's mother, I wonder?

 I went for a long walk along the creek yesterday, looking at how things had changed in the most recent flood.  Bet it will be different again now.  Life is constantly changing along the creek.  

I don't think there would have been enough water this time to move this tree that was washed down the creek in the last flood.

But I imagine these have gone:

Maybe there will be some fresh rubbish caught up in the trees beside the creek.

Some things change, others remain the same.  As far as I've seen, this is the only part of the creek that has staghorns growing along its banks.  

Next time I'm down that way I will move more stealthily and try not to disturb the wood pigeon.  He flew off to the other side of the creek, would love to get a shot of him closer.