nuthin

2 days ago I made a potato and leek soup for the first time, and damn, it was good. Really good! I had never made it before, but it was very simple and hearty and one bowl completely stuffed you. Who knew leeks and potatoes tasted like anything?

We had a friend of Darcy's over last night, who was visiting up from Sydney. He is a very nice person; I met him for the first time in Byron Bay. He sells health products that seem very effective, but what I didn't realize was that part of his reason for visiting us was to demo some of the products, and ask me to investigate the business, as in to sell the products myself. It freaked me out a little. I don't know why; it's a better thing to be into as opposed to Mary Kay, or Tupperware, but something about these kinds of businesses verge on cult, and make me jump back, like the Born Again Christians that invite you to mass gatherings when you sit on a park bench, trying to have a snack. He left some CDs with me, and I will listen to them. Maybe I will be interested in selling these products, but I doubt it. I am not into being a salesperson, not at this point in my life. He says it isn't a pyramid scheme, and maybe it isn't, though he gets a discount or some reward if people join in through him. He is into the products, and doesn't need the money from it, so I am sure he is genuine. Just the same, it all made me feel weird, and then I had a dream that I saved a penguin from a toilet! I caught up on my National Geographic magazines yesterday, so maybe that had something to do with it.

We had this friend try the ear candles, because I had 2 left, and Darcy didn't want to use them. The guy liked them, and claimed to feel different. But he said he is going to go home and buy some ear candles and just put them against a surface, and see if the same gunk collects in them as when you put the candle in your ear. So, it's good to know he likes to try stuff out, make sure it's real before he buys into it. After he used the candles, Darcy decided he wanted to try them too, so I guess I'll have to get more. Maybe the candles don't work, but the company is still making money off of us.

Yesterday, Darcy came upstairs from outside and said, "I just saw the biggest spider."

"Oh yeah?" I said.

"It was eating a lizard."


I am up early this morning, watching morning telly. There is a talk show on where a guest cook is showing you how to make cookies. Here a cookie is called a biscuit, and chocolate chip, oatmeal, peanut butter, white chocolate macadamia nut, and the other types of cookies we eat in the US are considered exotic and American. Most people here eat biscuits, and some are just like our cookies, but most are more English tea cookies, like lemon creme sandwiches, jam biscuits, shortbread, and other types that sound cutsey and lala.

The one biscuit they have here which is damn good is called a Tim Tam, and it is 2 chocolate graham crackers with chocolate creme between them, covered in a chocolate coating. Damn!

Burning the candle at one end. What?

Since I have been back in Brisbane, we have gone away every week, for at least 2 days each time. The first week, we went on a little camping trip, then the next week we went to Byron Bay overnight for the 50th birthday of a friend of Darcy's, then this past weekend we went inland to a small town named Cowra, 5 hours west of Sydney, for the wedding of friends of Darcy. They are a really cool pair, Marty and Rebecca("Bec" is how she's called.), who are also expecting a baby due the beginning of July. It was fun, but now we're back, and I think both D & I are a little tired from the traveling.

I was curious to see what life is like away from the Coast, where 90% of Australia's 20 million people live. Darcy had never been so far in, and he's a native. We flew down to Sydney, rented ("hired") a car, and drove. We had to drive through the Blue Mountains, then further on to Cowra. We started driving around 7pm, and since it is autumn here, it was dark by the time we got going from the airport. Darcy drove us to the Blue Mountains, then I drove the rest. It was really dark, and the road was very windy and slow. Every 5 meters there is a sign telling you "80"(kilometers), then 65, then 55, then 40, then back to 80, then a sign saying slippery when wet, and so on. A huge wall of fog peppered with a light but consistent rain accompanied me for the remaining 2 hours as I drove down, down, ever downward to the other side of the Blue Mountains and into more darkness. Occasionally I would pass a petrol station, a bar, a little main street, then dark highway again. Finally, we arrived in a small town called Bathurst, where we stayed in a small, dingy hotel, and for the first time, I believe, I was staying in a hotel room with dirty sheets. It freaked me out. I am uptight about that stuff. I am not a cool, I've been to small villages in Thailand and slept on dirty mattresses and eaten bugs kind of person. I would rather go camping and sleep in a dirty tent with dirty blankets than a dirty hotel with dirty sheets. Anyway, the next day we had a few hours before we had to be in Cowra, so we walked around Bathurst a bit. It was really pretty. Nice old brick buildings, lots of deciduous trees, and people wearing warm, sensible clothing and cushioned shoes. There is a big park there, where they have created a fernery, and a house of begonias:




We drove through a few towns after that, and what I concluded is that, similar to many small towns in the US, and probably anywhere, the towns are pretty to look at, and have nice little cafes and street lamps and signs, but without much to the economy beyond the surrounding farms that are suffering from a 5 year drought, most people there are not doing too well, and in truth life in the town is not easy. Though the area was cold and pretty and made me feel pangs of homesickness, there were also the people walking around that you knew were trouble, like the stark skinny white kids with the gigantic black sweatshirts and baseball hats, walking around in long baggy denim shorts, hunched over, drinking soda at 10am, and Pacific islander looking guys with big arms walking their pitbulls. As we walked around, we noticed the abundance of pubs and bottle shops. These sightings reminded me of the harshness of small town life, and that I did not wish to return to it.

The wedding was very sincere and fun and I was able to step out of my shyness and meet some good people. Bec and Marty are in the world of semi-hippidom. Marty teaches yoga and does acupuncture, but also is a freelance cameraman and financial consultant. Bec is a naturopath and shrewd investor. The wedding guests were a combo of relatives in fairly conservative attire, to a few rellies in funky gear and then many creative natural therapies type friends in all kinds of colorful stylish outfits. Bec is from Cowra, and the wedding and reception took place at her parents' house, natives of Cowra. Bec's father is a crop duster, so he flies planes, spraying stuff on crops. He and Bec's mum have built their dream home on the outskirts of Cowra, a big airy home with a pond and a pool and tennis courts and a hilly view of nearby farms and vineyards. Nice. They had set up a big tent on the tennis court for the reception, and Marty's band played. Then, some of their other musical friends played songs for them. It was all really sweet. Then, Marty put on all this great Soul music, like Stevie Wonder, and we danced a lot.

The next day, we had to drive back to Sydney, then fly to Brisbane, and we got home by 11:30pm, and since then, which was 2 days ago, we have both been tired. But things are good.

Last night, I wanted to clean my ears. I am starting to think they are clogged. Sometimes, I don't think I hear too well. Either that, or I am surrounded by mumblers. Darcy tends to mumble, but these days I never know what the hell he's saying. So, I went to the pharmacy, and the ear drops that were for sale make me uneasy. You put these drops in, then "syringe" it all out. It seems that ear crap needs to come out by being taken out, not by putting more stuff in. A guy I worked with told me using an ear candle is a natural and really good way to get stuff out. He is not a naturopath or a hippie or anything like that, so if he thinks it's good, it gives me some encouragement. So yesterday, I bought some ear candles. They are long cones of fabric coated in a light wax. You lie down, cover your head, stick one in your ear, then have someone light the top, and watch it:



When it gets down to about 4 inches, the person takes it out of your ear and blows it out, then you unravel it and marvel at all the gross gunk that was in your ear. the cone and the heat are supposed to create some kind of vacuum effect that sucks the stuff out.

I heard hissing from the candles burning, and a few times my ears popped. But, I don't feel like my ears are cleaner or like I hear any better. And the gunk in the candle could just as well be wax from the candle itself. So, I am thinking ear candles aren't anything special. Unless I did it wrong or something. I asked Darcy if he wants it done, and he is less than excited about it, so maybe I'll give it another go, and see if my ears get cleaner. Might as well. I bought the things.

Australia is sending more troops to Afghanistan. There are ads for the army on tv now. And what of Nancy Pelosi's trip to Syria? I hope it went well. Will Hillary get the nomination? Do people think John McCain is too old to run? Did you know that there is a subgroup of people who do not think global warming is that big of a deal? Some don't even think it's really happening. They should live here, in Queensland, and say that. Retired scientists. Those guys, who think this, they are mostly old retired scientists. Old People! Old People are cold all the time! They move to places like Florida and Arizona and wear cardigans in the desert! How the hell are they going to know it's getting warmer!?

Beast of Bourbon

So, it's been about 2 weeks since my return from Sydney, and it's been good. We went camping a couple of hours' drive north of Brisbane in this little town by the ocean called Peregian beach. It's near a bigger town called Noosa, which has a nice national park and a nice bay for surfing and swimming and snorkeling. We didn't bring a board, but we bought snorkeling gear and went snorkeling. That was fun. We saw some pretty fish, but nothing big or scary. I didn't mind. It's cool to see underwater just the same. And I discovered that with flippers, I can swim underwater like a seal, without my arms. Next time you go snorkeling, give it a try. It's a lot of fun.

Back in Brisbane, I have been helping Darcy with weaving, and that's about it. Not exactly relaxing, but I am happy to help Darcy as he needs the help - he has a lot of work to do in the next couple of weeks. It's tiring, but in the opposite way that my work is tiring. Weaving makes me physically tired, and FX work makes me mentally tired, though at times my body can get tired from sitting in front of a computer for a long time.

The work that Darcy does is beautiful, but doing the work is not romantic, or zen, or really even fun. It is repetitive and tedious and taxing on your fingers and arms. You must focus somewhat, but there is plenty of space for your brain to wander, and usually your thoughts swim around and around and around, in pools of worry and wonder and sometimes you just end up stewing about stuff. If I'm lucky, there's a good radio program on and I can listen and get distracted, but not today. Today, I thought about money, and work, and having to live other places to work, and am I funny looking, and will I ever find a pair of shoes I really like, when I heard some movement out in the back yard, and it was just who I suspected:



Bush turkeys!

Yes, here, in the city of Brisbane, wild turkeys run through people's back yards. They hang out in the trees too. They also can be seen running through Noosa, and other places in Australia, as they are a native bird here. People don't really like them, because they scratch up people's gardens looking for scrubs and roots, and if they want to nest, they build a big mound of dirt and leaves, so they will kick up everything in a big circle and ruin people's yards. Our yard is pretty wild, and since it's a rental and the rental agents don't want us to make a garden, we don't care if the turkeys are there or not. I think it's funny. They don't gobble. They are quiet. These two in the photo are in our yard everyday, and try to drink out of our work buckets. I have named them Tuna and Hen. I don't know who is who yet. People are not allowed to eat them. They are protected. Benjamin Franklin would have loved this place. Didn't he want the US national bird to be the turkey?