Chris’s Birthday

“Good Lord old chap! I had no idea that you were twenty-seven and working in Town! Thought you were thirteen and rather tall for your age!” said Chris’s uncle, who was in fact a family friend.

“Oh Alison,” Chris’s aunty whispered to his mother. “Doesn’t he look young? Of course, he doesn’t appreciate it now but he’ll be grateful later on in life,” she commiserated, making her last sentence more audible.

But Chris heard everything – not even a tad deaf in his youth (quite hard to say, even in one’s head) – and blushed to his roots. As much as the young Chris had grown accustomed to the frequent comments and asides about his beautiful “baby” blond curls and fresh ruddy complexion, he still found it excruciating. At that time he was a rich and successful surveyor, on his tenth sports car, owned his third house and thought he was a sex-god. (Ah, if only I had known him then… Hold on… I would have been fifteen.)

The years have been kind to my husband. He still has all his hair and old ladies still come up to him in supermarkets to admire his golden curls (which have been kissed by the sun, not chemicals, in case you’re suspicious).

Today it is Chris’s birthday, not a special birthday (unless you are of the mind that aging is a wonderful thing to rush towards with open arms) and, on a whole, we’d both rather forget birthdays; however, in our house we usually mark these milestones with romantic poems or personalised romantic cards. This birthday is no exception. I’m sure Chris won’t mind if I share with you the four cards I made for him last night…

Incidentally, when I was fifteen (and a burgeoning femme fatal – in my own mind) I was ending my paper-round one morning when several workman on their way to work passed by me. The eldest man greeted me with a wave and said:

“Good morning sonny!”

Mortifying!!!

An excerpt from the accompanying email:-
It’s very nearly your birthday and all I have prepared for you are four cards. I’m hoping that at least one of them meets with your expectations of both “humour and romance” (is that how you put it?). In fact two of them are part of a whole – a sort of two for one experience – intended to make you feel great about your fine attributes, especially because I value them so highly!
I chose one of my favourite recent photographs of you and you will see that I’ve used it to good effect on each of the cards. Incidentally, I think that Stan Laurel really was quite good looking when he was being normal…

And Then There Were Two

Firstly, assuming that you are vaguely interested in my sleeping arrangements last night, I must tell you that Lorelle was rather a good sleeping companion (you will perhaps be aware that owing to the arrival of Carlo, the good-looking Spanish/Italian German, we girls had to resort to sharing a double bed). Happily, Lorelle neither snores nor has she restless leg syndrome, or any other condition that would make sleeping with her anything but dreamy. She didn’t suck, puff, or grind her teeth; she didn’t hug me, kick me, toss and turn wildly or hog the cover (mind you, we hardly needed a coverlet because we both wore more clothes than usual). When we were hot Lorelle and I stuck out a leg apiece from our respective sides of the bed; and when we were cold we curled, foetus-like, facing     opposite ways.

Despite going to bed late after two exciting games of Yahtzee (Lorelle won the first and I won the second – beginner’s luck) I was awake even before my alarm; at six fifty-five, the sun was shining and I couldn’t resist a dip in the pool (a mermaid’s pleasure at any hour of the day) – after two days of rain, resulting in twenty-four hours of abstinence from one of the most divine pastimes, the swim was heavenly. And then I packed my little bags and put them in the car…

My pad for the Easter long weekend is rather swish, although it doesn’t have a pool; at least, not big enough to swim in… but it is a nice hot spa (let it rain, I don’t care!). Janine and Brad are going up north to sugar cane country and I have the whole house to myself.

“I want you to eat everything in the fridge,” said Janine, “and anything in the cupboards and freezer.”

Funny she should say that because I was feeling quite hungry. They departed at nine thirty-eight and I had my lunch at nine forty-five or there abouts.

Am I lonely? Well, yes I am a tad lonely at present but in a few minutes I shall take beautiful Bella – the loveliest golden retriever (read my book!) – out for a walk; and later, I’ll go for a longer walk on my own because I’m younger (in relative terms) and fitter than Bella.

What did I mean by my title? You see, I was putting things away in my plush bedroom when I noticed something small, golden and shiny under one of the pillows, then another one – a flash a gold between the outer two pillows; and when I turned my eyes to the bedside table I saw a larger elliptical shape, this time wrapped in silver paper. There were three chocolate Easter eggs for me to discover and now there are two. My just dessert! (Not deserts – we’ve had too much rain!)

Yellow Bird Up High in Banana Tree

Just for fun!

  1. Roger Whittaker – Yellow Bird

    This is quite a rare song by Roger which only appeared on a children’s album released in 1975 titled: The Magical World of Roger ..

And here are the lyrics to Yellow Bird…

Yellow bird, up high in banana tree
Yellow bird, you sit all alone like me
Did your lady friend leave the nest again?
That is very bad, Makes me feel so sad
You can fly away, In the sky away
You more lucky than me

I also have a handsome friend,
(he not with me today)
They all the same, the handsome friends
Make ’em the nest. Then they fly away

Yellow bird, up high in banana tree
Yellow bird, you sit all alone like me
Better fly away, In the sky away,
Picker coming soon, Pick from night to noon
Black and yellow you, Like banana too
They may pick you some day

Wish that I was a yellow bird,
I fly away with you
But I am not a yellow bird
So I sit, nothing else to do

Yellow bird Yellow bird Yellow bird Yellow bird

Yellow Bird

Jessica Mauboy & Lou Bennett Lyrics

Footsteps in the Sand

Come with me for a walk on the beach at Buddina on the Sunshine Coast!

Blue Tiger Butterflies by the Thousands

 

As I came off the beach on my way back to Lorelle’s place this morning I met an American couple and, while we chatted about the beauty of the area, the husband drew our attention to the sky.

“Just look at those butterflies!” he said, amazed.

Sure enough the air was full of blue and black butterflies coming along Pacific Boulevard then veering off over the rooftops. The couple had to go home to Budderim but I stayed for another ten to fifteen minutes watching the thousands – perhaps hundreds of thousands – flying in a continuous flow along the same route. I went over to the shade of a driveway in order to get a better spot for photography, although I doubted if my little mobile camera would have enough pixels to make sense of the butterflies in flight. Whilst I was stood there the owner of the house came outside with a wheelbarrow.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I said, “but I stopped here to take photos of the butterflies.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiled. “There have been loads of them in the last two weeks!”

“Not like this for two weeks?” I asked incredulous.

“Not all the time, but they’ve been around in large numbers. I reckon they’ve just come out of church!” he joked.

Well it was Sunday morning! However (as I have discovered on the Internet), the blue tiger butterflies are migratory, but there’s no need for me to tell you about them – I’ll copy and paste the information for your interest….

 

Critters of Calamvale Creek, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

calamvalecreek.awardspace.com/

Hello. I’m Belinda the blue tiger butterfly.

 

You are lucky to see me in Calamvale Creek in Brisbane, Australia. Blue tiger butterflies don’t often visit Brisbane, but when we do there are usually massive numbers of us travelling either south or north during our migration.

Where do I live?

I’m a tropical migratory butterfly, and generally live in northern Queensland. I have been south and have stopped off to check out Calamvale Creek on my way back north.

In a couple of weeks, large numbers of us will pass through the Sunshine Coast, and in May we will be passing Townsville as we follow the east coast.

In summer I like to visit creek areas near the coast, and in winter, when food plants for our larvae are in short supply, we often mass together in huge numbers in mangroves, gullies, or around shady moist creeks. We rest on stems, dead branches, and twigs, in shade near the ground. I love mangrove milkweed.

 

I like the warm tropical north of Queensland. A large number of us make our home in the rainforest patch of James Cook University. Our group often breaks up if there is any rain in the dry season, then we re-form when the habitat dries out.

Best time to see us

Thousands of us can cluster together on trees and vines, even out on the Barrier Reef islands, giving the vegetation a beautiful blue-black appearance.

You are more likely to see us during very hot summers or when there are very hot days, because we are not biologically suited to cold climates.

We occasionally reach Victoria, but never South Australia. A number of us were reported near Broken Hill in February and March of 1974 during an abnormally humid summer.

Poisonous plants are important to us

The whole life cycle of blue tiger butterflies revolves around poison to various degrees.

The milkweed plants we feed on contain poisons, but our larvae are able to absorb this and keep it in their bodies to protect them from being picked off by birds.

The poisons get passed on to the pupa and then to the adult butterflies.

Of course we don’t want to kill birds — we just want to make them sick so they won’t eat us. Once they’ve tasted us, they’ll never try it again. Some vomit almost immediately.

I do prefer certain types of plants, such as milkweed and milk vines, as Monarch butterflies do too. For my young caterpillars to feed on I like to find jungle vines from the family Asclepiadaceae.

Captain Cook’s butterfly

Captain James Cook reported seeing masses of blue tiger butterflies as he sailed up the coast of Queensland in 1770.

We still accumulate in that area — such as on Magnetic Island, Brampton Island, and Cape Cleveland.

We are also found throughout tropical south-east Asia, in the Philippines, and in Sri Lanka.

We may live for 5 months or more, and make a spectacular addition to any butterfly collection.

— Belinda the blue tiger butterfly

Back on Terra Firma

Okay, okay, Coochiemudlo Island isn’t exactly floating – not yet, but it has been raining very hard over the last two days (shall we call it Terra Mudlo?). Thankfully, the bad weather didn’t deter my visitors today, all eight of them (family and almost family), because, despite the fact that I had only crackers, cheese and fruit left in the larder, lunch turned out to be akin to the miraculous feast for five thousand; we had barbecued steak, sausages, chicken, potato chips and other snacks, and delights too numerous to mention (as well as cheese, crackers and fruit salad!).

Now I’m back at Belivah and it feels as though I have been away for three weeks (that’s island life for you!). I had a great time looking after Cheese Cake (the sweet little terrier). What of the donkey, the goat, the sheep, the ducks, geese, chooks, cats and the guinea pigs? Well the less said about the antics of the first three, the better (let’s call it a learning curve), but something marvellous happened yesterday morning in the guinea pig and baby chick area… I became aware that Cheese Cake was fascinated by something – I thought it might be a snake in the pen – and when I followed his eyes I saw that he had been watching the birth of a guinea pig. The tiny mite was wet and still, and the mother had left it to its own devices.

I miss Cream Cake – I got used to him being around (especially after his bath) – but now he is back with Hayley, and the rest of the animals are there with Hayley, I’m not sad to be back on terra firma… with no red mud or mosquitoes!

A Small Mason and his “Worshipful Master”

In this instance the “Worshipful Master” is none other than our friend Roland (who is a tad macho or bossy, if you prefer) and the “small Mason” is his adorable two-year old grandson (who is always charming and agreeable – in spite of his difficult age). They came to visit on Coochiemudlo Island yesterday and Mason helped me feed the many animals on Hayley’s property (while his Worshipful Master looked on).

Lollipop, the clever donkey, behaved disgracefully; she managed to let herself into the chook enclosure and ate all the grain I had put out especially for the birds. She was adamant that she was a chook! And who could prevent a chook of such proportions from doing exactly as she wants? Not me or little Mason. No amount of pushing from behind or brushing with the yard broom would stop her. At length we just stood there and tutted; and later, when the giant chook opened the bolted and roped door that leads to Hayley’s private garden, Mason cried with alarm; and brave little Cheese Cake gave chase (as did I with another broom)… all to no avail.

While the Worshipful Master rested in the cool of indoors Mason and I cut a basket of seedy grass which we fed to the guinea pigs. But as the day drew on and we were out for a walk around the island (in temperatures of about thirty-five degrees) I noticed that the Master turned the stroller to face away from sun and, instead of pushing it, he pulled it behind him… very caringly.

Eclipsed by the Eclipse

Any news I had has been eclipsed by Chris’s email about the partial eclipse back home – I didn’t even know that we (they, as I’m on the other side of the world) were expecting one. Did you? This is an excerpt, with photographs,  from Chris’s email about the exciting event:

The Country’s gone eclipse-mad here – we were expecting an 89% coverage
of the sun here in Devon (not like the 99% one we had back in 1999) –
but everyone was ready with their old 20th century eclipse-viewing
glasses – yes, even I managed to dig a pair out of the man-drawer! – but
really all to no avail.  The moment of darkness drew near, but the sky
remained stubbornly covered with misty cloud, and not a peek of our
shining celestial neighbour was to be seen!  It did, however, get a bit
gloomy, though not pitch-black by any means, so it felt a bit eerie, if
not spectacular.  I was just about to pack in the viewing arrangements,
however, when the cloud decided to thin a little and – lo and behold! –
there was a silver sliver (love those words!) of sun showing up there,
well past the maximum coverage, but visible nonetheless. I rushed back
in for the camera, which I has  already put away (cute – he sounds like the B.F.G.), and pointed it hurriedly at the sky in the hope of catching something.

And here are the results… (Thanks to our on the spot reporter back in Devon. As you may be aware, my husband is a bit of a closet meteorologist and astronomer.)

A Breath of Lavender

The temperature is about twenty-eight degrees. That’s quite hot, isn’t it? For half past eight in the evening, anyway. Cheese Cake, the little terrier in my charge, and I are hot. As much as he loves to lie beside me on the sofa for a cuddle he can’t bear the constant heat and, every so often (when neither of us can bear it anymore), he walks over to the other end of the couch for a cool down, then he comes back for more loving.

I keep wanting to call him Cream Cracker – well I think it’s similar even if you don’t; he answers to his new name so he must agree with me! Every time I call him Cream Cracker I think of Alan Bennett’s poignant monologue, “A Cream Cracker Under the Sofa” (from the “Talking Heads” series) and tonight  “A Cream Cracker on the Sofa” would be rather an apt title.

Cream Cracker Cheese Cake had a bath today. I shampooed him three times in the laundry sink and he came out almost white (before he looked red from the red soil here on Coochiemudlo Island). I had to cuddle him close to me whilst washing him; he nearly fell to sleep and my top got wet and red. When he was combed and dry I put a thin red lead on him (actually we didn’t have a collar on which to attach the pretty lead so I held the end with the catch, and the end with the loop for my hand went around his neck). He could slip out of it whenever he wanted but he knew he looked good and he didn’t pull away too much; and when he came free accidentally, he stopped and waited for me to pop the lead over his head again.

Speaking of clever animals, lollipop the donkey has a few tricks up her sleeve. She had noticed that the euthanised cockerels were being cremated (humanely) and the clever girl practically stood over the fire to fumigate any pests residing in her coat (also a bit red like Cream Cracker’s).

And what became of the brew of lavender made by Victoria, my ex-neighbour (today I moved from my railway carriage into one of Hayley’s houses)? Sadly the mosquitoes were not deterred in the slightest by the home-made (and not yet patented) repellent, but I found another use… I had forgotten to bring along my toothpaste… Now I know that Aborigines used to use charcoal for the purpose (at least that’s what a part Aboriginal girl at school told us many years ago) but I didn’t happen to have any charcoal at hand (we hadn’t cremated the cocks by that point). However there was a big cauldron of stewed (or “infused” as Victoria put it, more elegantly) lavender sitting on the stove… and, to add a clinical touch, also I dabbed a tad of tea-tree cream onto my toothbrush. It looked slightly greenish like bile and tasted vile but it cleaned my teeth, and with great relief, I found I had a breath of lavender.

My bedtime approaches and I’m about to use my lavender toothpaste yet again (there are no flies on me!). Cream Cracker is under the table, not the sofa so far, but soon he will be on the sofa on the other side of my fly-screen door and I shall be in a king-sized bed all to myself… just so long as the little chap, now nice and clean, doesn’t cry in the dark on his own.

Feeling Clucky on Coochie

Everyone loves it at Hayley’s “Quirky Cottages”, especially all the animals. I was greeted this morning – my first day – by loads of chooks (that’s chickens in Aussie lingo) and what a friendly bunch they were. Some came up and tapped me on the leg with their beaks, not to hurt me, but as if to say, “Hello, is it me you’re looking for?” Another couple, a fine black hen and a white hen, ran up to me and followed me around wherever I went (and that was after they had been fed).

The ducks and geese ought to have a mention too for they were fascinated by their visitor and gathered around each time I stopped for more than a second. Lollipop the donkey loves chicken grain more than visitors – she took the top off the bucket and helped herself before I could do anything about it. Oreo the goat came up the steps and barged onto the patio of my railway carriage home for the next four days, and then he jumped very nimbly onto the table.

“I shall teach him not to do that while you’re away,” I told Hayley confidently.

“You’re welcome to try,” she laughed.

“And I’m going to teach Cheese Cake (the little terror terrier) not to chase that poor hen he torments,” I added.

Hayley just grinned.

A lady neighbour called Victoria, who doesn’t seem to realise that I’m Australian, kindly informed me about the mosquito problem on the island and shared her secret recipe for home-made mossie repellent – there’s a gigantic cauldron of boiled lavender on the stove and tomorrow, if I have time (when I’m not feeding all the chooks and other animals), I’m hoping to find, on the far side of the island, a tea-tree from which I shall somehow take some of the oil to add to the brew. Victoria ended our evening by entertaining Hayley and I with her expertise in spinning lit balls – I believe the art form is called Poi. Victoria is looking forward to passing on her knowledge to me during the ensuing four days of my stay on the island. Hayley just grinned.