After a Trip to Townsville.

We took a quick trip over to the coast last week. As luck would have it we chose Show Day to book in at the motel. My husband, Canadian by birth, booked us in. The clerk noticed his accent and said, "We have another American staying here at the moment.(Frank hates being mistaken for an American.) She has just bought a block of land where you live." Small world, eh? We slid a "welcome" with an invitation to join us for coffee when she arrived back for the night. She arrived about 7.30, exhausted after a quick trip out to view her block with the land agent. She is a writer also. Maybe our town will become a cultural hub? Who knows... Because the shops were shut for the show we spent the day finding where we had to go the next day. We passed the show grounds several times and saw the crowd appreciating the fine day after so much rain. Excited kids dragging parents towards the gates and exhausted parents dragging overtired kids away from the gates. Ah yes, I remember it well. Strangely, the show grounds, are situated close to the State High School. I bet the teachers had fun keeping their students' attention the day before the show. Imagine all those teens watching the rides being erected! And the perceived romance of the carnival workers... the mind boggles. Glad I wasn't one of the teachers. We had a bit of trouble finding the university but it was worth the hunt, the surrounding at James Cook Uni are absolutely beautiful. They made me wish I was a student again. Mind you, some of the staff leave a bit to be desired. I don't know about 'absent minded professors', but some are pretty rude. Our 'dinosaur' was only a bit of sandstone, which was about what we expected, but the rude man didn't even thank us for travelling the 300 ks to bring it to him. I don't know why we couldn't have posted it, and saved the trip. But there you are... time means nothing to a geologist, I guess. Images. 9-7-05 Sleepless in bed images clicked behind my lids: five white cockatoos perched on shattered gum - like magnets on a fridge; a cyclist - in helmet despite heat, sweaty sinuous legs automated; egrets directing traffic at a local pony club; a rubble of cattle piled near a gate to their new home. Black cockatoos waited on the dead gum when we travelled west.

Romance of a Stone

Time in My Hands. (2.06.05) The stone turned under my foot. I kicked it away then glnaced at it, noted its shape and texture; stratified, worn smooth. I retrieved it to save a window, placed it in a pot then forgot it. I found the stone again after it skulked a year in that pot. My curious fingers turned it over as I tried to remember when I had found it, why I had kept it. Under a cleansing tap an image emerged in the strata: brow, mouth, nose, jaw and eye socket of a small dionsaur. Not a stone,but aeons, I held in my hands. This week we go to Townsville to have the stone examined by experts. We live in a dinosaur rich area so I should not be so surprised that I kicked this one up in our back yard.