How true the adage that you don’t know what you have until it is gone. Showering is convenient, quick, economical, eco-friendly, and healthy. It has been part of my daily routine for the last four decades.
After eight years we again live in a house with a bath. Yesterday, I took the ‘plunge’ in making use of the modern plastic tub. Lying on my back; knees bent, in water that was not deep enough to cover my ever expanding stomach and arms wedged against my sides, thoughts of childhood bath time drifted through my mind. Especially the rose tinted memory of my grandparent’s vintage 1920’s bathroom in Warley, West Midlands, UK.
The room had dark brown linoleum floor covering, cream painted walls and gleaming white fittings with chrome taps. These were no frills taps; tee shaped from the side, they were connected through the back of the square porcelain sink and the end of the claw foot iron bath. The water flowed from the bottoms, nothing as fancy as spouts. The horizontally mounted, cross headed taps with small white porcelain discs, indicating ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ resisted when they were turned, emitting satisfying grinding screeches followed by soft pops.
It seemed that water gushed with the force of fire hoses, even though it took forever to be deep enough before I could slowly lower myself into this gargantuan steaming vessel. Once inside, the bottom and sides would feel icy against my skin. Also, the enamel was a little rough from eons of scouring with Vim powder. Time scented with the fragrance from Radox salts drifted up towards the ceiling. Dreamily I would exit when my fingertips had puckered and the grey soapy liquid had become chilly.
Even with its shortcomings, the contemporary experience of fifteen or so minutes, spent splashing about in late afternoon resulted in a physical and psychological calm that lasted well into the evening.
A week last Sunday, we returned home from our travels. Since then our days have been filled with moving and unpacking boxes, stowing contents, hanging pictures and redecorating the guest bedroom. Somewhere along the journey we seem to have misplaced two cartons; one containing a hifi the other, precious porcelain things 😱.
Our first task after getting over the thirteen hours drive from Sydney to Brisbane, over two days, was to remove the thicket in the tiny back garden. A lack of attention over the last six years had resulted in three plants creating a bizarre intertwining twisting structure that threatened to engulf the neighbourhood.
For the past week it has rained every day. What was a couple of muddy puddles have become a quagmire; ideal housing for a colony of mosquitoes. Clearing the undergrowth has revealed a drain that sits aloft the lapping waters of ‘Lake Morningside’. The Body Corporate have let us know that as the issue is in a private courtyard it is our responsibility to fund remedial works. The joys of home ownership.
I suspect the missing caskets have been taken by a creature from below the brown sludgy waters of the swamp.
Before our trip to Europe we were awoken each morning by a rousing chorus of crows. A month on, jet lag has us awaking around 4:30 am and falling asleep a little after 8:00 pm.
Thankfully the nearby birdsong has changed to tweets and flute like birdsong that is much more pleasing to the ear.
The other afternoon, I found it satisfying to hear a kookaburra calling.
As with most parts of the World, the Australian east coast is experiencing freaky weather. Forecasts of Brisbane receiving monster electric storms followed by a deluge of biblical proportions have so far not eventuated.
Official sources report that since the beginning of October temperatures have varied from 12.5oC at night to 27.5oC at their peak. On Wednesday afternoon our car recorded 33oC when we left the hardware store in Cannon Hill.
Fortunately there are major supermarkets located about ten minutes’ walk to the right of our home and smaller specialist stores to the left.
Yesterday, I ventured out to the shops a few times. While walking along the street I noticed that the air felt silky against my skin and I could smell the heat of Summer in the air. The local fragrance is one of slightly damp earth warmed by the Sun combined with the faint scent of bark, leaves and some flowering trees.
This metal lighthouse makes an impact as we enter a clearing. We have walked through dense bush, from one side of the Isand to the other. It is Spring on the Great Barrier Reef, Queensland, Australia, the only human inhabitants of this tropical paradise is the lighthouse keeper and his family.
Coral, Great Barrier Reef, Queensland, Australia. I’m in awe of the quality of the pictures taken with a Kodak disposable underwater camera. My snorkelling and flippering skilled left a lot to be desired.
I have a small obsession with water lilies, especially those in Port Douglas, Queensland, Australia. I particularly like the shades of green, purple and yellow in this picture.
The old supported yet,
Consumed by the young.
I took this picture in the Daintree Rainforest, Queensland, Australia. I like the transmutation of the background from images to blurred colours as it emphasises the focus of the picture.
The gymea lilies haven’t started flowering in Sydney yet. I took this photograph at the University of the Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia, in October. I like the part they play in the perspective of this view.
I took this photo on the way to the Daintree Rainforest, Queensland, Australia in October.