Tasmanian Devil

Did you ever wonder why Looney Tunes Taz is a hyped up, washing machine spin cycle, crazy type with poor manners? Wonder no more. I finally got to see a Tasmanian Devil (the stumpy fellow in the photo) at the Caversham Wildlife Park. Indeed, they run around in circles for the fun of it and are offensively smelly! I only wish I had heard them screech.

O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum...

My favorite part of Christmas-time is decorating the tree with my family and friends. Every year since I was born I've decorated the tree with my parents and brother. No matter where we've been or what we've been doing, that has been our ritual. My dad and I always string the lights that belonged to my grandparents since the 1960's and 1970's, the ones my mother is convinced will burn down the house this year for sure. While we string, my mom opens and sets out the individual ornament boxes, some new and some showing the age of 30 years, and my brother lounges on the couch and changes the holiday music. We then have a free-for-all with the ornaments, saving my dad's favorite for him to place in his special spots and keeping a watchful eye on my mom to make sure she doesn't decide this year is the year to throw away those atomic and glittery mushroom ornaments she hates and I and my brother love so much! :-) When we are done with the ornaments, my mom hangs the beads and popcorn garland we made when I was 16 (yikes! but you'd be surprised how well it preserves) and she and I set up the lighted village under the tree. I then spend the next few days begging my brother to set up the Lionel trains from my father's childhood while I help mom bake the cookies (which literally takes nearly two days!). In the end he always obliges (with a little help from my dad), but he tries to get my goat anyway.

When I moved away from home and Kiki and I got our own apartment, we started to get a Christmas tree each year to decorate on our own. Though I still insisted my parents wait for me to decorate the family tree. Really, what could be better than two trees decorated with loved ones?!. I love looking through the photos we took of ourselves chopping it down at the farm, dragging it into the house, decorating it, sitting in front of it being goofy, with our presents for one another under it, and finally, with the poor unsuspecting souls we nabbed, err... I mean our boyfriends.

This Christmas, I am Down Under, and its way too expensive to fly home for the holidays. It doesn't even feel like Christmas-time here, its too warm! Santa doesn't wear shorts! It's not cold or snowy, or "chestnuts roasting on an open fire" weather. The only thing roasting is me at the beach! *Sigh* I have been thinking of this (while listening to Bing Crosby's Christmas Album - I love that man's voice, especially in White Christmas and Holiday Inn) because this weekend my family decorated the Christmas tree. And not just any Christmas tree. They, along with very close family friends, went to the home of my newly married brother and his wife and decorated their first Christmas tree all together. I of course called during the festivities, but it was nowhere near the same as being there. For the first time I was absent from my favorite family ritual, a monumental one at that, I feel so sad and weepy not to have been a part of it.

Mom and Dad, if you are reading this, can you save this years tree (throw it in the yard when you want to reassemble the living room) for when I return? Perhaps we can decorate it in the yard with newspaper clippings and paper garlands and candycanes, if only to take some photos... so I can say I didn't miss this year and so we can laugh at the photos in the years to come.

Brekky

Australians sometimes refer to breakfast as "brekky". I generally prefer the brekky cereal here, and judging by the grocery aisles, muesli cereal is very popular. I mostly eat the Uncle Toby's Sports Lift cereal or the Sanitarium ("the health food company") granola. The cereal I don’t really get is the biscuit, for example, Oat Brits. Don't ask me what a Brit is, but it's pretty much a super flaky wheat and oat cereal bar. The flakes so thin that you can't really chew them and they form a thin film of oat/wheat paste on my teeth. Mmm, paste. Did I forget to mention they taste like cardboard and turn to mush when you put them in milk. This morning I tried them with yogurt instead. It wasn't bad, but I did have to brush and floss for about a half an hour... kidding... sort of.

What WOULD Jesus Buy?

I detest Christmas shopping. Don't get me wrong, I love to get people thoughtful gifts, I watch with excitement my family and friends tear away the wrapping paper with no idea of what is inside, I love how my family dog waits to see if she's gotten anything amidst the piles of unopened gifts and torn paper and ribbons. I however, don't like to be rushed (and I always end up waiting too long to avoid that), I don't like the crowds, and I don't like feeling like I need to spend an arm and a leg on people who won't even appreciate the gifts anyhow.

That is why I am excited to see this movie.... albeit after I return to the States.... unless there is some miracle and it comes here.... errr..... not likely.

Rottnest Island - part 1

According to Lonely Planet, Rottnest Island was first "discovered" in 1696 by Willem de Vlamingh, a Dutch explorer, who called it Rotte-nest (errr... rat's nest) because of the Quokkas. Of course Aborigines were there first. The island has been used as a European settlement, Aborigine prison, for maritime and military endeavors, and is now classified as a wildlife refuge and for recreational use only. According to me, Rottnest is just plain AWESOME.

Rottnest is splendidly beautiful and serene. This owes to the fact that humans cannot live there. The only way there is by ferry or private boat (which can harbor in only certain locations). One can find overnight accommodation on land, such as flats and youth hostels, but they are all centrally located to the northeast of the island, as are the few restaurants, dive shop, and country club. There are several roads and even a short rail line between the settlement and a lookout, but thats it. Really the only way to travel on the 11 km long, 4.5 km wide (at its widest point) island is by bus or by bicycle. And bicycle is just how the 1o of us rolled for the day.

I took a lot of photos, but they really don't do the scenery justice. After waking up at 5:30 am, riding bikes to the train and taking the train to Fremantle where we hopped on the ferry, we arrived at 8 am at Thompson Bay. After retrieving our bikes, we headed to the dive shop to rent some snorkel gear, marked the snorkel bays on our maps, and headed off. We were a 10 person bicycle gang roaming the range of Rottnest at a leisurely pace. It made me feel like a kid again! The ride was a bit hilly (I love riding on hilly terrain) and the views fantastic.

There are over 60 beaches and 30 bays on Rottnest Island, and all can be explored at leisure. Our first stop was Little Salmon Bay. Most of the beach photos were taken there. The sand was course, and therefore didn't stick to our sunscreened bodies. We locked up our bikes, set up camp, and plunged into the icy water for some snorkelling! Its been over a year since I had been diving or otherwise, and, as you can imagine, I was psyched. A few of our group had never snorkelled, so after giving a few quick lessons I took off, kicking, diving, and searching for coral and fishes. I admired the large sand ripples on the shallow sea floor, I hunted down coral heads to show my pals, I felt free as a dolphin to twist and turn and explore, and I was in heaven! After a time, I got quite a chill from the water and wind gusts (I knew I should have I rented a thin wet suit!), so I headed to bask in the warm sun of the beach. The Australian sun is warm and friendly before midday, so I was sure my thick layer of sunscreen would be sufficient... and it was.

Soon, many of our group came out of the water to relax on the beach. After a bit, we realized the warmth also attracted a skink - a lizard, the one you can see on our towels in the photos. Turns out it was not the warmth so much as the apples we were snacking on that attracted it, and we couldn't get it to go away despite much shoo-ing. So when it come over to me, I let it be and gave it a piece of my apple as a peace offering. That made some other beach-goers upset, but it must have been fed before or else it wouldn't have harassed us. It hung around me on a rock until I finished my apple, and we agreed to a truce. I figured it was safe to roll onto my belly to shade my eyes from the sun, and after a few long moments I fell asleep daydreaming. How nice it was to laze around, feeling very contented. But just as suddenly as I fell asleep, I and my senses were being pulled back to wakefulness and I knew there was something very wrong. It took me some moments to feel the little pricks on the back of my thighs and the weight of something moving, but then I grabbed my friend at my side, let our a gasp, and flung my body around only to see that skink go flying on its back into the sand! It had been crawling on me! Lucky for me, most folks didn't witness it. But really.... I am glad it wasn't one of those deadly poisonous snakes instead.

Donnybrook Marathon Weekend

Donnybrook, about 3 hours drive south from Perth in the middle of apple country, is famous for apples, Donnybrook sandstone, and the Donnybrook Marathon. The Donnybrook marathon is intended as a relay of seven events: a 34 km road cycle, 7 km kayak, 1.4 km swim, 20 km mountain bike, 8.5 km walk, and 12.1 km run, though there are some hardcore folks who go it alone as iron men and women. Iron for brains, if you ask me... which they didn’t… so there you have it…

A group of folks from the UWA get together every year to stay in Donnybrook for weekend revelry and the competition. This year we had two teams, the Muffin Magics and the Muffin Tragics. I was late in signing up but had expressed interest in the kayak. Two days before the competition one of the team members had to drop out, so with very little arm twisting, I agreed to take on the 7 km with a borrowed, very old, fiberglass, rudderless racing kayak.

Now let me preface this story with some background. Mr. Man and I got kayaks a few years ago for purely recreational use. Mine is not a racing boat, but a green, plastic, 14 foot long recreation boat without a rudder. I've gotten pretty good at safety, rescue, and proper form for effective paddling, and I've paddled in the ocean almost as much as I have on lakes and ponds. I have never, however, competed.

My one demand on agreeing to the paddle was that I got to try out the boat before the competition, just to be sure I knew I was getting into. We hauled it down to Matilda Bay, I squeezed in and nearly rolled over. It was beautifully light, narrow in the front, but had a wide diamond shape in the back that gave it a weird center of gravity. It also didn't have knee rests for me to grip the inside of the boat for stabilization, which made it very hard at first. It took me a bit before I managed to stabilize myself using my hips and moving my center of gravity before I could even think of maneuvering the boat forward. I was still pretty nervous, an understatement, when I went ashore, but at least I knew I could finish without overturning. That was my main concern, as the boat had no sealed gunnels and would completely fill with water and be nearly impossible to upright and reenter if I overturned in the lake.

We left the Uni at about 4 pm the night before to get to our accommodations at Boronia Farm for an evening "sausage sizzle" (sausage = yuck, so I ate PB&J) and to avoid driving at dusk when the kangaroos are active. I didn't really understand why both cars, large to small, and trucks here have beefy front grills, until I learned that kangaroos bring "deer in the headlights" to a whole new level, often jumping into the lane at the last minute for a head on view of those bright light bulbs. Those beefy grills protect the cars front end and perhaps serve to prevent said kangaroos from flying through the windshield. Anyhow, we arrived at the farm to be greeted by a friendly dog, some guinea hens, chickens, goats, lots of cows, and a warning of the black flies, which turned out to be gnats or midgies as they are called here. The farmhouse was quite nice with several bunk rooms, a large tank to collect rain water for drinking, and an outdoor toilet and separate shower/wash room. The outdoor toilet and wash room turned out to be a problem, as after two hours of the porch light on, which also controlled the bathroom light, we had such a swarm of midgies that every painted surface was covered with them and a swarming hive engulfed the light bulb. They were so thick you would feel them like water spray from a hose if you walked by. Needless to say, we used the great outdoors for the remainder of the evening. Ugh, it was truly sickening.

Race day was sunny and not too hot. Here are some pics. After the road cycle started, Karo and I headed to the reservoir to prepare the boats for the tag-off. I took my boat for a spin to get reacquainted with it's idiosyncrasies. There was a mighty wind on the lake and I knew I was likely to be in trouble. Light boat + strong winds + no rudder = trouble (with a capital T). My road rider tagged me in and I was off to paddle for the Muffin Magics. Many of the iron men and women and faster relay teams may have taken off like a bat out of hell on that water, but it was all I could do to steer my boat in that wind, much less pick up speed in the direction of the buoys. The course was three times around three buoys. The first leg the wind was at my left and front, the second leg I was in the clear, and for the third leg, the wind was at my back and left. All the other boats were whizzing by me. All of their paddling energy was devoted to forward motion while their direction was controlled by the rudder. I spent most of my time steering with a combination of hip movement to change my center of gravity, leaning, and brute force. I got passed by one of the iron women twice. I heard countless paddlers telling me "keep up the good work, you're doing great" and "you are making great progress in that old boat without a rudder in this wind!". I struggled for the first lap, but as I railed against the wind and waves in the start of the second lap, I knew the course and adapted my rhythm and strategy as needed. I knew I would finish, but as boat upon boat passed me, I realized this was not a competition against them, but the good old "man vs. nature" theme from my high school English class. My saving grace was that I had had been taking weight lifting classes at the UWA fitness center regularly for two months, and I plowed along on muscle. I made it in over 53 minutes, but at least I didn’t flip the boat and I finished. I even enjoyed it, to boot, and after my third lap I was ready to go a fourth. But alas, I rolled on up to the shore and one of the iron women helped me out of the water with very kind words. I ended up finishing 44th out of 48 teams, which is better than I expected. My one gripe is that my knees were killing me from gripping the inside of the boat, and I realized on shore they were full of fiberglass! But, all I can say is that my post-race cheddar and cucumber sandwich was the best thing I'd eaten all month (I am so not kidding). And I didn’t even mind the zillions of houseflies buzzing around and alighting on me and my lunch or rioting all over the back of my shirt. It was a great day. I'll have to remember to compete again sometime.