Over another Hump

Friday, September 30, 2005

Rain coming.

We are nearing the rainy season here. Already we have had some good showers. The weather is heating up rapidly and I would be surprised if we don't get some storms soon.

It's Heavy Weather.
“Nice bit of rain we've had Burt,” Joyce called accross to her neighbour. She pegged a sheet to the line and smiled at the dark clouds overhead. She didn't care that the clothes wuld have no chance to dry that day.
“We're doing our bit to keep it around,” she continued. “Done my washing and Ken washed the car yesterday. Never fails, that. Better than the old rain dance, eh? This should make the farmers smile, shouldn't it?”
“Don't know about that. This will upset the harvest, probably cause rust at this time of the year too. Doesn't help the natural grasses either, the growth season is over. Seeds will just sprout and burn off. Wasted.” Burt's lugubrious expression lightened a little at the prospect.
“Oh well, it's great for the garden, isn't it?” Joyce sniffed. “Don't you love the smell of the first rain?”
“Watch out for black spot on your roses. The weather is too warm still.”
“I bet the animals love it.” Joyce ploughed on valiantly. “The poor things plod around in all that dust with hardly any shelter. It must be a relief for them.” She picked up her basket and turned towards the house.
“They'll probably get foot rot.” Burt sniffed as he tossed his copy of “Farmer's Gazette” into the bin. 01-10-05

Saturday, September 17, 2005

After the Ashes.

Well the cricket is over and we lost the Ashes. But what a great boost the series was for the game. It had me on the edge of my seat every night. Wasn’t even game to leave the room in case I missed something or caused the wind to blow the wrong way and make the ball fall short. (You never know what strange air currents occur.)
Next year we will try to reclaim the precious urn, I hope the games will be as close. For now I am grateful to be getting my full quota of sleep. And again have the energy to do my chores.
At least next year the games will be in our day light - chores will be put on hold but I will have my sleep.
We take our cricket seriously here. Below is a cutting from the local paper. The match played was a scene direct from a Russel Drysdale painting and was great fun.

We Won!
The Torrens Creek v Pentland Fire Brigades cricket match was held in ideal conditions. The unique ground, ant mounds and all was a scene of fierce competition as the two teams tried to win this inaugural game. Although the proceeds were to be divided between the two fire teams Pentland kindly donated their half back to Torrens Creek brigade to help the beginners build up their funds. Much appreciated, guys!Honours went to the Torrens Creek Tigers as they walked away with the impressive trophy donated by J. Hill of “Oakley”.The day was a fun family day, although competition was hot. The children of all ages enjoyed a Lolly Drop from the air and the “grown-ups” pitted their strength against each other in the tug-o-war. This was also won by Torrens Creek. It is proposed that this will be an annual event between the local fire brigades. Congratulations to all who made this day such an enjoyable one.

Another fun day is planned for this season but dates have not yet been decided. It all depends on the mustering ... We will try to advertise more widely so our tourists can join in the fun.

Country Living.

The pumps have failed,
no water here,
routine’s all thrown out.
Monday washing won’t get done,
nor dishes, I’ve no doubt.

No washed floors,nor lush green lawns –
my blooming garden’s dead –
I’ll settle for a long hot bath
before I go to bed.

Stoics, we overcome
of this inland drought.
But our afternoon’s shot to hell –
the cricket’s been rained out.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Shopping in the Country.

We can never complain of boredom here. Now the weather has shifted from close to frost to in the high 20s (actually the latest reading says 35degrees in the kitchen) over these last few days we are pulling all our warm weather clothes out of the cupboards.
Tomorrow we head into the nearest shopping area, 90ks away. Haircuts, library visit, and a top up on groceries are all necessary for us or our neighbours. It is important to let the town know when we go to save other's time and petrol. The heat makes it impossible to take our dog with us now and she will no doubt picket her territory with signs, 'Dogs have rights too!' in the hope that some gullible neighbour will take pity on her.

Minnie is a mistress at emotional blackmail. She rules this house with an iron mitt, will not allow her stupid suckers to deviate from her wishes. We both hate it when she sulks but will make it up to her on Wednesday when Fari comes to town. Then she holds court and gets to socialise with all the town who gather around his van.
Fari is our Purveyor of Fruit and Vegetables. No mere fruiterer, he is such an important person to our area he earns that title.

The Purveyor of Fresh Fruit.

He travels in the outback
filling small town needs,
an immigrant from Persia
when there was a Shah.

Persecuted in his homeland
for retaining the old faith,
he brought his family
away from intolerance.

Fourteen years he has
covered these lonely roads,
leaving home and family
to bring us crisp health.

Suspicious of his difference,
prejudice still follows him,
his cpmpetition frowned upon,
but his customers increase.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Spring has Sprung and here We Is ...

Celebrating Spring.

Smells of cut grass and gasoline,
turned soil, warm moist compost
float on crisp cool breeze
stir brown thumbs to bud anew.

Self-important Babblers begin early,
"Can't talk, can't talk - Hello, Hello."
Their cries, like the breeze, still
when sun sucks the morning dew.

Doors and windows are welcome wide,
vacuums zoom from room to room,
seek dust with renewed vigour
and farewell winter hibernation.

Essance de vache trails from transports,
wafts through town that echoes
to voices of absentee owners
summoned by fair weather and council threats.

Filledwith bonhomie and free libation
we celebrate first day of spring with neighbours.
Under the stars we juggle plates and glasses -
listen as Happy Jacks squabble
in the African Mahogany.