Saturday, January 31, 2009

Rain forest

There's a reason it's called the rainforest. In June and July it's not always obvious but we're in the middle of the wet right now. Unlike every-where else in the world where you tell the seasons by the temperature and day length here we define them as the dry (hot and dry) and the wet (even hotter and wet). I was going to take some pictures of my coffee beans today but it has been raining, very hard, for three days now.

Usually there are hills rising on my back door, today there are clouds. Humidity is about one hundred percent. It seems unfair when parts of Australia are in the middle of a drought and bushfires that others would be flooded. The "rain days" have made me "stop and smell the coffee" so to speak and I have taken a moment to count my blessings.

I sit gazing out of my window and feel like I am wrapped in clouds, similar to a misty day in chillier climates. Shortly I shall go out in the rain (which is of course warm) and empty out any containers I find to stop the mozzies breeding and I will be thankful that I have the rain, and it is warm and it is falling, not grumpy because I am wet.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Number one has a theory...

#1: Mum, I think your car needs servicing.

I am surprised by this comment. I've picked him up from work at the usual time and the traffic is surprisingly light. We are making better time than usual. All systems, as far as I can see, are go.

Me: Why do you say that?

#1: We...ell, we're making very good time. The traffic is really moving well tonight.

Me: Yes, I thought so too, why do you think the car needs servicing, and why do you look so worried?

#1: You haven't sworn at any-one yet.

Me: Well, no, no-one has cut me up yet, or stopped at a green light, or changed lanes without indicating, or stopped for no reason. I'm not even being tailgated.

#1: There you go then.

Me: ?

#1: The a###hole attractor chip on the car must be broken. The car needs servicing,

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Excuses, excuses...

I've been a bit slack lately on the blogging front. There are two possible explanations for this, first that my life has hit an even keel leaving me nothing to blog about, or second that I have been too exhausted with all the "excitement" to blog.

Unfortunately for me the second explanation is correct.

My new job brought levels of discomfort and stress that I had not felt since I was a teenager....all self inflicted.......but its all good now that the drugs have kicked in........

We are having ever increasing power cuts in the area at the moment. The latest two nights ago following a birds nest on the pylon. This bird's nest knocked out power to about one eighth of the country (area wise not population wise....voters don't get treated like that.) The birds nest apparently caused an ark between the old power line which was the sole provided of power to Northern Queensland and the new one which is its back up since cyclone Larry.

(Yes, we the populace did point out that maybe having the old line and the new back up lines on the same pylons was may be a "tad" NAIVE. After all if a cyclone or storm or lightning or stray road train, or, I don't know, a birds nest, caused an outage of the pylon then both lines would be affected...huh?)

Ergon energy in their wisdom ignored the screams of outrage and strung the new lines alongside the old ones, and then put up the power bills, apparently we can look forward to a twenty-five percent increase this year. After all we in FNQ don't have much of a power base numbers wise, just resources wise.We've got all the water and the South's got all the votes. ( Oh and BTW wouldn't underground lines be an option in a storm hot spot?)

Last year we lost power for a day because someone in Brisbane dug up a road. This shut down all the electricity in Queensland. You couldn't make it up, I live in Terry Pratchett's home universe.

This theory is backed by the fact that our local MP wants us all to travel armed so we can shoot crocs when we see them in rivers and storm drains. Bob, mate, I live in an urban area (relatively speaking). The only crocs we see here are more worried than we are. The guns would be used by the ute drivers trying to get right of way at the traffic lights that aren't working during the power outages. Your time in parliament would be better spent getting a power station up here.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Nature or nurture?

Number four has a tendency to get overheated. He runs around all day in the sun without wasting time with hats or drinking water and then comes in as darkness falls. As the sun sets and he stops moving he suddenly develops a headache, demands all the lights be turned out and vomits copiously.

The first few times this happened as you can imagine I was straight to the hospital, thoughts of meningitis screaming through my mind. Eventually a kindly doctor suggested that maybe if we got him to drink something, maybe?

We nurse him through these turns, and try to prevent them with water and hats but they still happen occasionally.

Today number three got a headache. Number four swung swiftly into action. He got a head ache tablet (after checking with me) and took it to number three. He lay him down in the bedroom and shut the curtains, and then went and got him a glass of water.

"Try and drink this" he cooed while stroking number three's head. "You'll soon feel better."

Gently he left the room and as he closed the door he sighed, "Stupid little twit, when's he going to learn to keep his hat on." (I can't think where he heard that.)

BTW he soon got sick of the nursing thing and went and poked number three until he cried thus requiring an intervention from mummy.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

The fossilised blogger....

I am officially ancient. My oldest child is eighteen, I can't believe it. That means I was about twelve when I had him!!!!

I have done a quick mental retrospective on his life and have decided that time flies when you're raising monsters. I remember him being born, I set a new foul language record for the hospital, which wouldn't have been so bad except I worked there at the time. People kept coming to visit me and asking if some of what I'd said was true, unfortunately most of it was.

I remember him being tested for Downs syndrome as he has single palmar crease, and having an operation at only eight weeks of age. I remember looking for the "666" on his head at three in the morning. I remember his first day at school (I cried) and his last ( I cried, he was expelled). I remember the first time I caught him drinking, and his first serious girlfriend ( AKA the Troll).

I realise that he's grown up and he's still a baby. He answers me back and sulks like any teenager, but I can still make him twitch nervously with one look, and he'll never be able to lie to me.

I can't believe my baby is eighteen.