The Plunge Down Under

Off to the Top End

For my sun-starved, spring-deprived friends and family in North America, I bring you today some photos from my front garden and from some other gardens nearby.  We are off on Friday for what is known as the Top End, the north western corner of the continent.  Interestingly, its capital city, Darwin, is closer to Jakarta and to Singapore than it is to Sydney and Melbourne respectively.  We have been told it has quite a distinct character due to its location in the tropics and proximity to South East Asia.

No doubt I will be filling these pages with pictures, stories and information from our trip after we return, but for now I will just say two other things about Darwin:  it was the only part of Australia to suffer a prolonged attack from the Japanese in WWII, and it was almost entirely wiped out by Cyclone Tracy on the 25th of December, 1974.  In addition to Darwin, we plan to explore three national parks, including Australia's largest, Kakadu. We have been duly warned from multiple quarters to avoid the crocodiles, and this we plan to do, although we are hoping to see them in their natural environment.  

I am fairly certain that internet availability will be scarce, so I wish you all well until our return, at which time hopefully spring will have arrived to stay in the Northern hemisphere.

March Birthdays and Nostalgia

It seems to me that we always have some degree of consciousness of the vast difference that separates Australia from North America.  For one thing, there is the constant calculation of the time difference.  We really should have installed a clock set to Pittsburgh time when we first moved to Melbourne, but instead we subtract various numbers of hours depending on the time of year to determine which day, and what time of day, it is for our loved ones.  

Then there is the spectre of the long-haul flight required when we go home.  The awfulness of it subsides somewhat as the months increase since the most recent journey, but still it hovers as a necessary obstacle to overcome when next we wish to make a visit.  There are two times when the distance seems especially great, however, and that is when someone is ill, or when there is a special day to celebrate. March brings with it six birthdays within our greater family, so perhaps it should not surprise me to feel especially wistful in this month that means spring in the Northern hemisphere, and autumn in the Southern.

The first birthday we celebrated this year was Sophie's.   Sophie had requested a trip for ice cream rather than cake for her birthday, but I thought we needed at least a token cake for the photos.  We should have left it as a token rather than attempting to eat it.  Something went horribly wrong in the baking of this particular cake (purchased from the supermarket), and it went straight to the rubbish bin after one mouthful.  It was so awful that Katie worried that she had ingested some deadly poison.

 

To compensate for the truly dreadful memory of that one mouthful of white chocolate cake, Sophie accompanied Ross a few days before his birthday to help pick out his cake.  I have made it nearly three years without baking a cake in Australia.  I figure there is no point starting now, especially since we have so many wonderful bakeries within walking distance.  This one we shared together over the weekend before Ross's big day.

The chocolate cake was as decadent and delicious as it appears, but even better was the panettone prepared by Gillian.  She knows it is a favorite in our family, with the adults at least, and every mouthful was savored.  It is one of those cakes that gets better each day that it has to absorb the flavors.  Yum. Ross had to go out of town the next day, and I nearly didn't save any of the leftovers for him.

The other four birthdays in March are of my grandmother, my nephew Oliver, Ross's sister Gretchen, and her daughter Alissa.  Last year the Heagys were able to visit us in March, and we had cupcakes to mark the occasion. Here is a photo of Sophie and Alissa from that visit:

Next I will post one of Oliver, taken in June of last year, followed by one of my grandmother.

It was while talking to my grandmother on the day before her birthday that I began to feel especially nostalgic.  Our conversation recalled many memories of the times we have spent at her lakeside house in Michigan, and by the next afternoon, I hit upon the remedy, for that day at least.  I decided to make an approximation of the pancakes that she serves us every visit without fail.  I knew this would be difficult, because right off the bat I was missing the most important ingredient:  her homemade applesaauce.  That could not be helped.  But after searching for some time, I found a recipe I judged to be similar, albeit without the applesauce, and as soon as James and I got home from school we went to work.

 

The buttermilk oatmeal pancakes were in fact delicious.  They were hearty, and proved to be the perfect after school snack for all four delighted children.  Katie even responded, without any prompting from me, that they reminded her of Oma's pancakes.  I think that was because I added plenty of cinnamon to the batter.  As a bonus, no one noticed the whole wheat flour in the batter, and the leftovers had to be carefully divided out the next morning for breakfast.  I felt closer to my grandma as a result of this hour spent in the kitchen, my guilty conscience over failing to bake birthday cakes was somewhat salved, and I was thrilled to discover a recipe that will surely become a keeper for our family.

 

All the Colors of the Rainbow

Yesterday morning, just as I was about to leave to drive the girls to school, we discovered a double rainbow across the street from our house.  I grabbed the camera, dashed outside in the rain, and tried to capture its beauty in few brief seconds.  Unfortunately the auto focus button had been disabled, which I did not notice in my hurry, but it was enough to motivate me to put together a rainbow-themed post, one of the many suggestions I received from my readers a few months ago.

 

I hope you enjoy the colors in the following photos as much as I have, and if you have suggestions for future post ideas, I am always happy to receive new ideas.

Here is the rainbow from yesterday:

 

Katie Goes on Camp

It has been a while since Katie has appeared as author on the pages of this blog.  Today you are in for a treat as she writes about her recent camp experience after the following introduction.

I don't know about you, but for me, the idea of going to camp meant fun when I was growing up. It was something that occurred during summer vacation or possibly on the Christmas break, but nothing I associated with school or education in any form.  We hadn't been in Australia long when we realized that "camp" was going to take on a whole new meaning for our children.  Going on camp is part of every school that we know of here starting from about the third year, and in many schools it is taken quite seriously as an integral part of a student's education.  This is certainly the case with the school our girls attend.  It is possible of course to have fun on camp, but that is not the primary purpose.  Instead, outdoor education is the goal, and each year level has specific learning goals for the camp experience.

You might remember that last year Katie was dreading the Year 8 camp, and although it turned out a bit better than she expected, it was still not something she wanted to ever repeat.  The weather was wet and cold, wombats attacked a nearby tent, and the food was all prepred by the girls themselves. We therefore expected the worst from the Year 9 camp as it is meant to be much tougher.  The girls were expected to transport all of their gear themselves, including their food, cooking pots, clothes and tents.  They also had to bushwalk using maps for navigation.  Adults would be present, we would be told, but would only step in to guide in cases of pending disaster.  It was entirely possible, nay even likely, that their canoes would tip over, soaking the campers and their gear.

I left the Year 9 camp information evening thinking, "This is ultimately going to be a great experience for Katie, but I sure am glad that she is the one that gets to learn and grow through hardship rather than me!"  I predicted that she would return grumpy and in need of some TLC.  Surprisingly, as the date for departure approached, our eldest began to get slightly enthusiastic about going.  She even seemed happy as she and Ross walked out the door at 6:20am to catch the bus.  Even so, I worried throughout the week.  The temperatures soared each day into the nineties, and I pictured the poor girls sweating as they carried their heavy packs.

You can therefore imagine my pleasant surprise then when Katie returned from her five days away on camp almost exuberant.  She enjoyed camp so much that she has even agreed to write about it.  I will turn this post over to her.  The following text, and photos, are all hers.

                                                            Camp by Katie 

This year half of my year 9 level went Lake Eildon for a week. We were expected to carry everything we needed for the week , including all of the cooking gear, food and clothing on our backs. Every morning we were required to take down our tents, waterproof our sleeping bag and pack up everything into the backpacks. We spent the first half of the week canoing and the second half walking. The second half was by far the hardest and most taxing. 

Every day after a long day of walking or canoeing we would go for a swim in the lake. Even though the water was muddy it was always one of the highlights of the day. We also drank this water after it was purified. 

Inside this pack was everything I needed for the week including food and water. It weighed about 8 Kilos (17 pounds).  Unsurprisingly there wasn't much room for clothing.  We were told to pack two outfits only.  The second one was so we would have something dry to change into if the first one got wet.  

After we had reached the camping site for the night we would have to set up camp and prepare everything for the next few hours.  

 

This was the standard lunch for each day. It consisted of vegetables, meat, cheese, crackers and tuna, all wrapped up inside mountain bread. By the end of the week I was very tired of mountian bread. The dinners were surprisingly good.  We had pasta carbonara one night which was delicious.

Halfway through the week I managed to get my hat stuck up in a tree. It took me many attempts to get it back down again.  Hats were an essential part of our gear because the sun was intense.

While we were hiking on Thursday, we managed to get stuck in the mud. Our shoes got really muddy but we never had to wash off the mud because we did so much walking that the mud came off by the end of the day. 

After walking through the bush for a good 3-4 hours, some of it up hill, I was very tired and decided to try to take a nap. 

This is what our camp would look like in the morning after the tents and packs were ready to go. 

On the last day we had to hike up hill for about 3 kilometres to get to our bus and when we got to the top we could see all of Lake Eildon and where we had been for the past 4 days. 

I think Lake Eildon is a wonderful place to go, and I highly recommend it.

 

Summer's Swan Song

It's Labour Day Weekend, and we are well into the official season of Autumn.  The weather patterns have not yet recognized the change of seasons, however, and in fact Melbourne has experienced the greatest number of consecutive days over 30 degrees C (86F) in its recorded history.  With weather like this, the beach seemed like the best option, so there we headed yesterday.  We were not disappointed.  Far from it---this may have been our best beach day yet in Oz.  We stayed until well past the sunset, savoring every moment of the last golden rays of sunshine and recognizing that this may well be our last hot day on the beach for quite some time.

Swim between the flags is the mantra on Australia's beaches.  With three swimming deaths on Victoria's beaches in just one day of this holiday weekend, we made sure to follow this advice.  In the next photo you can see the line of swimmers, wave jumpers, and body board surfers channeled in between the flags.  

The lifeguards were very vigilant, and one even hauled fearless Sophie out of a wave when she felt Sophie was in too deep.  Positioned as we were near the red and yellow tent, I could hear updates of all the "rescues" throughout the afternoon.  The last drama of the day was a surfer who suffered a dislocated shoulder.  The rescue buggy brought her to the waiting ambulance, and when we loaded our things back in the car a couple of hours later, she still appeared to be in a fair amount of pain.

As the sun began to set, and most beach goers headed home, we set off down the beach for the Cape Woolamai Track, home to thousands of shearwaters that migrate each spring from the Bering Strait. Cameron had spent an evening at Cape Woolamai a couple of weeks ago while on a school camp, and had been telling us how he witnessed hundreds and hundreds of the shearwaters, also known as mutton birds, flying in from the ocean to their nests in the ground as darkness set in.  It was an amazing experience for him, and one that he wanted to share with us.

After walking for what felt like miles down the beach, we climbed the wooden staircase to the track, where we kept walking until we came to the spot Cameron remembered.  He and his classmates had lain there in the dirt while thousands of mutton birds swooped just inches above them.

 

We sat down to wait, and wait, and then to wait some more ...

As it grew dark, the enthusiasm of more than one of our number waned considerably, but still we waited, and waited, and then waited some more.  Just before we threw in the towel, a few birds did start to arrive, although not in quite the numbers that Cameron had anticipated.  Perhaps many have already begun their long journey back toward the North Pole.  

Even if we did not experience exactly what we set out to see, we did enjoy a gorgeous sunset, and then as the darkness grew thicker, the appearance of thousands of stars in the night sky.  David helped us find the Southern Cross followed by Orion upside down in the southern sky, as well as a few other celestial marvels.  It was most certainly an afternoon, and an evening, we will not soon forget.

 

 

The Color of the Sun

It's been a few weeks since I did a color post.  Today I am in the mood for yellow, a happy color and long a favorite of mine.  In the U.S. it brings to mind school buses and school pencils, whereas in Melbourne I think lemons and golden sunshine, particularly during the delightful twilights we have been enjoying of late.  I had a look through my photo files and dug out a few from the past twelve months that I have placed under the "yellow" category. Enjoy, and as always, feel free to nominate a favorite!