Another Monday Morning

An amazing morning. Coolish when we first got up, but we started shedding clothes early. All my wash is done and I plan a day's writing. Autumn is the best season here and the birds all tell us so. I haven't felt so energetic for months.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. A lovely day of relaxing. I watched my favourite shows and gardened for awhile, as my husband Frank, watched the car racing. I'm not a fan, a bit noisy for my blood.

The photo is a new hibiscus that has just flowered. They grow well here and my son, Ken, gave me another hibiscus for Mum's Day. That's eight I have now. They flower all year around so will keep a bit of colour in the garden.

Last night I listened to bats fighting in the mango trees and was worried that they were going to settle here the way they did a few years ago. Then there were thousands. So bad was the smell and noise from them that we were ready to vacate the place. They were here for months and only left when the first good rain came for the summer. Fortunately, no more have arrived so I gather they were disturbed when the new next door neighbours began cleaning up their yard. Guess we'll get a few unwanted guests in the next few weeks as resident snakes and rats are routed.

Haven't done much writing lately. Too many other things demanding my attention (or am I procrastinating?). I get great ideas around four am. but am too lazy to write them down. Naturally, I forget them by the time I settle down to commit them to paper. All those bits of lost treasure ;o)

Lost Gold.

At night
ideas come
darting like tiny bats
through my dreams,
elusive, tantalizing.

Or wake me
with wonderous words
buzzing like mosquitoes
seeking tender flesh.
They elude me at daybreak
when virtual memory overloads
and cyclonic lows
minimize creativity.

Frances Mackay. 2007

I must be ill but it is a great way to start my day.

It's starting to get cold now. We dress in layers this time of the year, then by ten we begin to disgard the top layer and by three we are back to summer gear. This morning I have a jumper with, what French women used to call 'agony covers' (because they hide all bulges, and rough clothes), over the top to keep out the breezes. I feel like a duck as I waddle around. I even have socks on, as well as slippers. I am usually bare foot.

Dressed thusly I took Bandit, our dog, for a run. I use my Gopher (an electric cart) for this so he can stretch his legs properly. Usually I stick to the bitumen but I thought I'd try one of the back streets to give him some fun. Ashley our returned cat decided to come too. That WAS fun! It was like taking two trainee kamikazee trainees out. Both gravitate towards my front wheel.

As well, the back street is deep in bulldust. I almost got bogged a couple of times and finally drove along the grass. That's pretty rough as the gopher has no springs. It was interesting, though, seeing all the different tracks in the dust. Birds, big and small, little paw brints and what looked like a goanna's prints. Lots of snake tracks from the junk yard at the edge of town. Glad it's as cool as it is, I don't fancy fronting a snake with those two. No-one was around at that time. Guess the cold weather has kept them in bed.

Frank used to walk the animals but over the years it was easier to take the car. I wrote this when he still walked them.

Going for the Mail.

Frank has a certain job to do
that really has a tale.
Every morning, before 9 am
he goes to get the mail.

He takes the dogs on this daily walk –
two killer dogs on leads –
escorted by our three home cats,
cavorting through the weeds.

There’s Molly, who began this jaunt,
followed by Kate, her mother.
(She knows where all the dangers lurk,
so keeps them out of bother.)

Now Max, our newest acquisition,
not to be out done,
insists in taking part
in this diurnal fun.

He sticks quite close to father’s feet,
hiding in his shade
and halts him so politely
if their energy begins to fade.

The performance is pathetic,
if one is left behind,
"He’s been and gone without me!
Did he think I wouldn’t mind?"

The locals now are used to
this menagerie setting forth
but tourists and out-of-towners
seem overcome with mirth.

Seeing Frank and his escort,
led by Molly and Kate the clown.
Just another bit of local colour -
a part of this little town.