yeah, maybe, all of that…

Even after a second glass of wine, I can’t decide if this seedling sprouting from a discarded cleaning cloth on my potting table is a metaphor for how tough life has been lately, or to never give up, to keep trying no matter the environment.

seedling .jpg

I think it is a tomato seedling, once again proving that come the nuclear armageddon that we may still have tomatoes to feast upon. Just remember to pack the salt and pepper, and maybe a little olive oil, in your survival pack.

a house with a view and a plover

We have had some lovely spring rain and mild temperatures this year. Our garden has blossomed and we have enjoyed some plants flowering for the first time in the five years since we made our tree change.

The following photos are of the bauhinia shrubs ( ) that I thought no longer had the will to live a few short weeks ago. They survive against the odds in the worst conditions, very shallow shaley soil on a stoney ridge.


And this is the view that I have from our living areas. The plover and its nest is circled in red.




this isn’t in the play book

tea multiple

I have a summer cold. This isn’t suppose to happen in my new happy ever after life. The only eucalyptus I can smell in on my tissues (Kleenex). It’s Mr FD’s fault. He has a chest infection.

To be fair, Petite Fille brought the virus into their home, and she shared it with her father and mother, and then with me, but I am quite sure that Petite Fille’s father passed the virus to Mr FD and then he incubated a more virulent version. After a night or six of coughing he passed his new improved germ cocktail to me. I am an innocent victim. Again.

Poor little Petit Garcon also has the cough, which is unfair when one is only 4 months old. Did I tell you that I have the most perfect little Flamingo Dancer grandson, ever? I do. Babies should be given germ protection for their first year because they just don’t understand. Life is cruel.

The summer weather is just heating up now, which is rather unusual, for most years we would have already had several weeks of “if it is so hot now, what will summer be like!” conversations. Our garden was almost dead from a warm dry winter, and we were planning memorial ceremonies for some beloved plants, but then the spring rains came and everything bloomed. We have some plants flower for the first time in the five years we have been in the country this spring.

Of course, it means Mr FD has to mow every three or four days. Plovers are having their second hatching in the middle of the lawn, and so the mowing only goes so far, before plover squawks alert Mr FD that he has gone as far as they will allow. I caught sight of him mowing with a long stick clutched in one hand the other day. Apparently if the Plover Pair are flying he eyeballs them, points the stick directly at them and they have second thoughts about their murderous intent.

We are a positive animal sanctuary – rabbits, hares, bush turkey, plovers, ibis, various parrots, magpies, bandicoots, wallabies, kangaroos. It is a hot bed of fecundity.

Luckily, Mf FD and I are too old for such things…




Olive branches

Being a teacher,  librarian and Flamingo Dancer naturally means I am a fountain of knowledge , or as Mr FD likes to describe me – a know it all. Well may I know it all, but I have not seen it all, but I have ticked one more item off the “to view” list during this visit to Perth.


I have seen olive trees before but never the olives fruiting on a tree. Daughter has a large olive tree outside her front door and it has a heavy crop. Peppercorn and I go out each day and discuss the various ways of harvesting and preparing olives . If all else fails maybe we could fuel a car or two!

Attack of the killer moths

Moth 1

Well, maybe they aren’t killer moths, but they are jolly huge. At least 10 centimetres (4 inches) from wing tip to wing tip. They hover outside the screen door, peak time being the early morning. A soon, as we open the screen door to allow Augie out to his yard they zoom through the opening. One busy morning, four of the beasties made it through the portal.

This morning I found one trying to hide in the kitchen sink! It was despatched with insect spray. No mercy to any insect that enters my castle!

If left to their own devices they crash and bash about the room, gradually building in confidence until they commence dive-bombing victims.

Once sent to that great moth heaven in the sky, we have to race with pan and brush to deliver to the bin, before Augie decides to make them a new toy or an after breakfast delight.

Moth 1

That said, despite their kamikaze tendencies and lack of  “pretty” colourings, the patterns on their wings are quite intricate and rather delicate. A thing of beauty.

They just need to stay where The Big Whatever meant them to be – not in my house!



Being a bird brain may be okay

bird brain 1

Mr FD spent an amusing twenty minutes watching three baby birds play in our garden.

One chick would roll itself into a fluffy ball and roll about the lawn. Another was a little more creative, throwing itself onto its back, legs ramrod straight, and played dead; until its siblings came near to investigate and then it would jump at them! A jokester in every family!

Mother Bird tolerated the later behaviour for several minutes until she reached her limit and gave Chick a nudge to behave.

Kids are the same, nature over, and so are mothers. There’s a deal of comfort in that thought.