And the tears of the sky are wet

Well, they're wet, but not salty. There was rain on the wind - Which suddenly led me to realise our salt project - out on the low roof of the sort of doghousey thing next to the shed - in the 18 litre very unwatertight box - now covered in a strapped on old sheet and not the lid... was not going to work if the rain was replacing the evaporating water. And somehow I don't see the carrying in and out happening every time there is a rain-squall - that can happen at a moment's notice here. so for now it is out of the sun... and rain and on the verandah.

There was a terrible panicky scream from the kitchen yesterday. B has had a little difficulty adapting to her husband not cooking, or the boys not being there to help (in Paddy's case this can be... interesting. His liquidised baked-bean creation was only a few milli-amps short of independant life;-) and his ginger buiscuits could be used to thaw wooly mammoths back to life - still he can cook some things well. James is more consistantly reliable and does a really good banana and pecan nut cake.). I'm not touching her food until this lot is well over. The result: the contents of the microwave was on fire. She was defrosting some rolls... To save electricity I bake quite large batches, and then bag them and freeze them. So I put twist ties on the bags so I can just take out what we need.

B just put the bag in, twist tie and all, and sparks and plastic met and melted... anyway. It went out. I'm going to have to start teaching basics in case I get around to dying middle-aged or first (only the good die young, which counted me out)

We've had a bit of chaos with James bookings - despite B making the operator repeat it twice - he wasn't speaking local English (#$@%$ing call-centers!) which means the payment for the ticket had P instead of a B reference. So time in the bank today...

B's off at a 'girls-get-together-before-a-wedding' thing tonight. She had to cook, poor dear! (I did instruct, and send her with some roll-mops too)

And my buddy Gary can't get here :-( -- work chaos, and meeting changes.

Weighing in

Well, B has gone off to Scottish Dancing without me. This is probably a very bad idea, because my missing it means they'll learn yet another new thing for me to get hopelessly wrong. I am not a gifted dancer. I'm still not feeling too great though. I had fish and rice - and some internal discomfort - for supper. This really has proved a nasty ailment. Anyway, onward, ever onward. I have been trying to proof Dragon's Ring and failing to find any errors. That's difficult... because I know they're there. We had visitors at lunch time today. Heh. One of them - having stared hard at the cover of 'Fangs' - started reading the story I have in the collection. I had to laugh at her laughing her way through it - and, I hope realising it wasn't QUITE what she thought it was. I suppose -- having been involved with sf and fantasy for a long time, I hadn't realised EVERYONE (even those who don't read the genre) would not automatically that the book just had to be a mockery of the undead-porn that seems to have become quite fashionable. It's rather cutesy story about a Vampire who is trying to raise (and protect)his daughter Zara.
__________
"You have blood spots on your collar," she said, with nasty glee.
I sighed. Zara always delighted in pointing that sort of thing out. Being a vampire isn't easy. And then I had to put up with Zara as well. "And you have a zit on your nose," I said, peering down my own nose at her.
It had the desired effect. Frantic squinting. Feeling with long black fingernails. "Eugh, gross! It's not fair." She stomped off in her Doc Martins to go and apply more makeup. She's not very good at it. It's not easy when you can't use a mirror. It's harder when you're a teenager. Zara's been that way for 300 years now and she's not got any better at being subject to teen hormones, or at applying makeup. Immortality has its downsides. Being a teenager forever is one of the worse possible ones. Having to live with one forever is, however, the worst curse of being one of the undead. And I had endless millennia of it ahead of me. Zara is my daughter. And no, I didn't bite her. Banish the thought! It's enough to make blood turn to ashes in my mouth. I did help to help to hammer the stake through Count Orlok's heart, though. It took Zara nearly a century to forgive me for ‘ruining her life' and ‘interfering'. Actually, I'm still regularly accused of the latter.
It's true, of course. But when did that ever stop a father?
_______

If you want to read the rest you'll have to buy the book :-)

Anyway, nothing much but work and feeling a bit grim today. Tomorrow will be better, we hope. B and I are sort of the edge of trying to put on some weight - we're both still losing weight on the catch-it, grow-it diet, despite having increased our portion sizes. I'm really not too sure why, as the only change has been in protein -we eat very little chicken, pork or lamb, a little beef, and make up for that with a little wallaby and a lot of fish or shellfish. Vegetables and carbohydrates are much the same, in fact more of both, but we do consume very much less milk or cheese. The day starts with a big bowl of porrige, we have around 500 grammes of fresh rolls each. There are usually anzacs or cake with our coffee. Our 'tea'(AKA supper) is always protein, at least 3 types of veg - sometimes together, and some kind of starch... Still, being sick brought home the fact that I just don't have a lot of bodyfat left - I am under 60Kgs now and B is less. I've lost about 9kgs, and B quite a bit more than me. No we haven't got any debilitating diseases - they won't let you into Australia without checking. Most of the time we're healthier than most, and quite active. The boys were concerned and told us not to lose any more - we've increased portion sizes and added extra cake etc. But I am actually considering a bit of spare being needed in case we get sick.
This was not a problem I expected to face!

Dragon's Ring, and other stories...

Well, you know you've changed worlds when your Doctor drops in after work to check on you. Yes I was, shall we say, being 'bloody' interesting, but this never happened to me before. I was poked, prodded, had my pulse checked, got told to take the one med, forthwith, and told in no uncertain terms to NOT go out (there was a meeting I wanted to go to) and to go without hesitation to the hospital (where they would call him out) if it got any worse. We then talked sf and about India, and stray dogs, and comparitive food for 3/4 of an hour. Yes, he's a nice guy, and concerned, and we've read a lot of the same books... but wow. Different to South Africa. Drop-ins are one of the things I'm coming to love about this place. Maybe because it is an island and really is a community, the way most of the world -- not even rural South Africa, is anymore. It's a bit like stepping back -- in some of the aspects we wish we'd not lost -- 50 years. The technology and the tolerances seem to be fairly modern, for which I am grateful, because 50 years ago they probably would not have approved of my beard, let alone hair - but I'm not even unusual here. Of course we miss our family and friends but it's probably one of the best of communities to try to fit in to, simply because it is still a community. Yeah, everyone knows who you are. Probably not a good place to have a dark secret... In the waiting room at the Doctors, I talked about recipes for fruit-cake with one of our friends, about Gilbert and Sullivan with another, and then chatted about lichen species with a chap with a much bigger beard than mine, and then got to meet the doyenne of the local museum - I suppose wanting (or being prepared to) live out here is a selection mechanism for unusual set of people. Talking through stomach cramps is not the easiest though!

And today a couple more people dropped by, called to find out how I was... not a good place for even pale secrets! I ended up having a complicated debate about CS Lewis's veiws on religion and the history of the Tuetonic knights over lunch (a plain roll for me). I thought I'd be talking about sheep if anything here. Shows how wrong you can be. I'm quite fond of sheep, but it's nice to have some alternate subjects!

My seedlings are popping up here in the study - it's got good winter morning sun. The tomatoes showed the soil deficiencies - I've as a result of the dark green ribs and yellow-green leaves on the Grosse Lisse added trace elements and iron. Oddly the black Russian tomatoes were fine and the Rouge de Marmade mostly fine. The other plants are just germinating (or not) so hopefully the trace elements will give them the right start. I've been talking to them. So far we're merely at threats, but tomorrow if there is not a better effort in the growing department, I might have to make an example of one the Grosse Lisses.

The wind (and intermittant rain) continues today. We hope it clears for the weekend as we're hoping Gary - one of my best friends now living in Canada - gets here. Of course I also hope to feel just a little better by then.

The proofs for the Paperback of Dragon's Ring came in as .pdf - and also my author copies of FANGS FOR THE MAMMARIES (a collection of short stories about vampires in suburbia in which I have a story. Humour) in the post. The artwork is... startling! :-). I am so sorry B didn't open it in front of John-the-Post-Office! It nearly made Dr Biren's eyes pop out, and started the medical students sweating. Actually - the cover is FAR the most shocking thing about the book, but the puns are bad.

Solo night drive!

It seems to me amazing that we have been here almost 9 months, and I am still clocking up basic firsts.

This evening was the first time I have driven in the dark, alone. And here there is no fear of bandits, but a real fear of hitting an animal, and I am used to having spare eyes in the car, yelling "wallaby" at suitable moments.

At one stage I was actually trying to work out if I could have taken a wrong turn somewhere, as the road, "A ribbon of sand, between the tetree trees", (appologies to The Highwayman) was going on for ever, but I realised that I was only driving at about 40km/h, (Limit is 100km/h) so that was why it was taking soooo long.

But eventually the tar road appeared ahead, with fields on either side, so it was easier to see the 'roos. As it was I had watched a possum climb a tree, saw both a wombat and several wallaby moving out of my way, and disturbed 3 ducks that had decided to overnight on the sandy road. So different to my trips home after dark at our last house, where it was often misty as well.

ooh Collywobbles

I've picked up some sort of bug, which ended up in gastro, me at the Doctor and them trying to persaude me to stay there. I am a little better now, but not up to much.

Before, and After - with fluffy boots

Dear me. Here I was in my tangled, longhaired glory... and mom has inflicted this on me. This is stage two of a three day haircut. Complete with cheerleader woolly boots. I am a shadow of my former self. Anyone got a recipe for preventing hairloss?
yours
Roly

The cats have fish!!

Not only did our wonderful neighbour bring us delicious fish for the cats, but today we went fishing, and despite the tide being wrong, and the wind still blowing, we managed to get a nice sized Trigger fish to bring home. So the cats are very happy, and can look forward to the prospect of more snow in Tassie next week with fortitude!

We had decided a while back to try to make salt out of sea water, but it was on the list of things we had not got round to. I saw an 18 litre container in our 'other' supermarket, with a snaplock lid, so I bought it, and today remembered to take it to the beach.

We were at a beach, Trousers Point, where there is a steep wooden staircase down to the beach, and once we had finished fishing across the headland, I set off to fill my new container with sea water. The plan being to allow it to evaporate, and then to top it up with more sea water to make it more saline etc.

I could have rolled up my trousers and waded in to fill it, but I chose instead to clamber over some rocks to where I could fill it without getting my booties wet, (they seem to take days to dry). Then I discovered that 'snaplock' does not mean seal, in any way at all. So there I was with a wet front from just lifting the basin, never mind the stagger across the rocks carrying 18kgs, and then over the soft sand to the staircase. By the time I got to the top, I reckon I had spilt about 4kgs, so at least it was easier to carry, but Dave then emptied some more out, so we would not have too much corrosive sea water inside the back of the ute.

Still, we now have about 10 litres of water in a container that will have to have a material cover made for it tomorrow, and will have to be sieved, somehow, to get out the pieces of seaweed that insisted on coming along. But, I am hoping that if we remember to top it up, with 2 litres at a time out of Coke bottles, we will eventually arrive at salt, watch this space....