Boys winging away, and onward

So... they really CAN get up at 4.30AM without a crowbar or me. The boys got up, caught the shuttle, and caught the plane to Melbourne and then dropped us an e-mail to say they were through customs an emigration and all they had to do is board(for which I am really grateful. I follow the ancient way of the worrier, which is a hard path to follow and concentrate on anything else.). My best mate Pete is picking them up in SA, so all should be well. Therefore, mind at rest, I've had a constructive morning editing while B vacuumed and Clare brush-cut. Then we nipped out to a sneak preveiw of the garage sale and I bought some fishing gear. Not really the tools I was hoping for, but several spare elderly reels, and a load of sinkers and a mold, and a strung gill-net (I have a licence. I also have a legal mesh and weights - just no floats, ropes or net needle. It's been another 'round tuit'. I'm not very keen on gill-nets, but they too have their place in self-sufficency foraging, and in some ways large mesh ones like this are a reasonable passive fishing methode which size-selects and does not damage the environment. Don't get me started on small-mesh drift nets, dredges or trawl netting. Beach seines on the other hand are sort of OK, if they're short) We stopped and had a cuppa with some friends and got given another roo, eggs, as well as a very tempting catalogue of seeds and some purple garlic from their garden. Does anyone out there have any experience with Cossack pineapple, Salsify, Scorzonera, sea-kale, strawberry spinach, tomatillo, tamarillo?

It all comes down to distances

Well, the boys flew out this evening, starting the long trek back to South Africa. They're young at Uni and have more to find in life than a remote island can offer at this stage. But I miss them. Savagely, already. That's the one down side about being here. We have moved far from all the aspects of SA I don't miss - from the taxis to the vuvus. But we're also far from many people I hold very dear. Anyway, we still have Clare for a bit. I'm really not used to having a semi-daughter (possibly) around the place, although I know fate if had given me a daughter she'd have been like those silly tittiping women in high-heels and impractical skirts with the flutes of champagne and the half-eaten salad, complete with inane giggling and the vapid discussion of fashion, shoes and their boyfriends' jobs in banking, from the next table up in Hobart. Shudder. I am sure the world needs them for something (and yes I eavesdrop, and watch people. Writers need to) but I am very very glad Pad's tastes run to someone who can climb, dive and weild a spear :-) and who doesn't run to impractical skirts - and to whom shoe shopping is not a thing of joy.

The boys took along a good solid loaf of my oat and ginger dwarf-bread, for fighting off muggers and clubbing rats with in big bad Lonnie. There was no room in their bags so it flew across on James's lap - which at the Island News dinner brought up the subject of various cakes - including a wedding cake that have flown across the same way -- It can be a bumpy flight... I had this mental image of several tiers of cake swaying their way through the turbulent cumulous, and was very sad to find it flew in sections. Where is their sense of adventure!?

Late nights and Scottish dancing

We've been doing incomprehensible dances - well, possiblibly merely to me. We had a muttonbird barbie earlier - and James seeing as it was men coughing around some cremating meat in good South African style, fetched beer and got out his Notebook and played 'Delarey Delarey' - which is all quite funny - the brave sound of the DISTANT drum -- as you'd never have got me to do drink beer and cook wors and tjops and listen Bok van Blerk(?) back in South Africa. But Boags is nicer than Castle, and Clare enjoyed her pot-bread, green sauce and mutton-bird.

Dave is home!

The winter weather arrived again today. We had wind and rain, and a little hail, so we are topping up our water tanks nicely, which I am really pleased about.

One of the things I find bewildering here are the flowers. Gilbert and Sullivan said 'the flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la, have nothing to do with the case' in one of their operetta's but here the flowers are blooming and it is still mid winter, we are still getting frosts, for goodness sake. Yet the daffodils, roses, daisies, and many others are out in force! I just don't get it. Still, it certainly makes mid winter very beautiful.

I took the kids today to go and cut a friend's hedge. Mostly because I wanted to play with their electric hedge trimmer. Clare also enjoyed using it, so the boys were reduced to the chainsaw and the shears. Still I hope the owners feel that their hedge looks better, it is certainly shorter, but the comment made was 'the difference between a good and a bad cut is about a week!' so hopefully it will grow back.

Paddy had made us chocolate bread for lunch, which was delicious with blackcurrant jam, and gave us the energy to deal with the garden work. Then we went and met a young wombat, called Julia. She was really cute, and a lot heavier for her size than I had expected. She was determined to burrow into Clare's jersey with her head, really sweet!

Then Dave landed safely back on the island, and we heard all about the GPS taking him on a scenic route, while he was trying to rush back to be in time to catch his flight. Anyway he made it, and we have a final few days with the whole family together.

GPS games

It is entirely possible that the GPS is indulging in a cruel joke at my expense. Yes I'm back, but I am seriously considering reporting my GPS to the society for the prevention of cruelty to Daves and other lower-life forms.

I don't do cities terribly well, and Hobart is a small city. Yes it has some beautiful sandstone (I think?) buildings in the Harbour area, but there are still a whole lot of other people determined to drive on MY road even when I am worried about getting back to Lonnie in time to fly back to the island. It is really terribly inconsiderate of them. The talk went well (I think - these things are always a haze to me. I'm good with people in small groups but when there are lots of them, I put on my crowd persona and cope. It's part of the job of being a writer - fortunately a small part. I've been told I am very funny, but that could be because of minor dress idosyncracies when I have my mind on other things. After all, if it's good enough for Superman, surely the absent-minded author can be forgiven for putting on underwear after trousers?) Anyway I had an interesting visit to the big city -- including a tolerable pizza at Cargo - and some very nice Tassie pinot noir - Tigress 2008. Almost no shopping was done as the hotel was in the middle of town, where they keep all those delightful boutique clothes shops and cafes and jewellers and electronic and sound system shops that really have all the essentials we need for Island life ;-/. And I hate driving in town and didn't have a lot of spare time.

Anyway, I managed to get out of the workshop thingy and down to my car only about 6 minutes late, and set up the GPS which said I'd be safely there at 15.03. (I kind of needed to be there 15.15 or maybe at a push as late as 15.30).

Then the cruel thing sent me plodding traffic light to traffic light MILES inland of the Tasman bridge which it has decided is one way. Time estimate was 15.10 by the time I had escaped the city... But the worst was yet ahead. It could just take me onto the midlands Highway, which is not a great road but is fairly straight and 110Km speed limit most of the way. NOOOO. It had to take me the shortest way... over a mountain with hairpin bends max 60km/H speed limits and down to 35km/H on a fair number of corners. And of course a great time for cyclists to be using this road... Then as the minutes climbed and climbed and climbed... Into the Coal river valley and through picturesque windy roaded tourist driven hills with little towns - with their 50km/H signs so you can really appreaciate their nooky-nacky shops or nicky-nacky shops - I didn't have time to stop for fuel (which I was worried about) let alone food (and lunch had not happened, and breakfast was one croussant a long time ago.) By now I'm getting worried and we've got the rate increase in GPS arrival time to slow down... but I was eventually up to 15.17... which doesn't leave any leeway for fuel, or rain or traffic hassles or anything going wrong.

Anyway, I got to the Midlands Highway, up to 110 and stuck pretty close to it... and to my relief the minutes came down and down. The GPS got me to my destination at... 15..... 03. The original prediction - which had me without ulcers.

I'm so glad to be back here where I can put the evil-minded little device back in its drawer.

Back with the family the dogs and cats... It's a little bittersweet as we know the boys have to leave soon.

Dave and the dogs.

Dave is down in Hobart, and phoned to say he had arrived safely. I hope that his talk goes well.

The dogs have got really soft coats at the moment. We are feeding them Aus dog food, which may be better quality than they are used to, minced fish, and a broth made from whatever bones we have, chicken, muttonbird or fish. So something is doing a good job on their coats.

Maybe it is just that the food comes from the hardware shop, rather than the supermarket as I am used to.

The boys had a wonderful parent free day today, doing a tour of some of the less accessable island beach with some friends. It sounds as if they had a good day.

Off to Hobart

I'm off to Launceston, to drive to Hobart to take part in this digital publishing workshop, armed with a powerpoint presentation James helped me put together last night. I am not sure I am a powerpoint sort of bloke! Anyway, B will probably post, and I'll be back on Wednesday night, I hope.