A Rare Sighting

I saw something today, whilst walking home from work, that I haven't seen in rather a long time.  Well not in real life anyway.  I've seen them on TV, read about them in books, even discussed them on the phone with El Kenco.  But what is this rare beast upon which I stumbled whilst jogging home from work.  Furry.  Stripy.  With a long tail and pointy ears.  Four paws.  About the size of a cat.  Actually, it was a cat.  A cat.  Such a common thing to see whilst in England.  In fact we used to have one, dubbly named Brian, who tried to get in through an old cat flap the previous owners had fitted.  Cats were everywhere.  But here a cat is an unusual sight.  You don't see them lounging in driveways, or sitting on cars, perching on walls or sleeping in the sun.  You just don't see them anywhere.  In fact, the very few times I have seen a cat in this country they've been skulking around the drains before disappearing down into them.  Drain dwelling cats, that's what we have here.  It's like they've been relegated to vermin, hiding in the sewers with the rats and crocodiles.  And sewer dwelling sharks.  So when I saw a tabby cat hidden under the shade of a tree it actually took me by surprise.  I actually consciously thought about how unusual it was to see a cat, and how I must blog about it upon my return!  Which I now have.  So there you have it.  A rare cat sighting here in the land of Oz. 

A Caravan Conundrum

It was one of those crazy hectic days at work yesterday that made me want to hide under my desk and escape home to a large glass of wine.  I never did make it under my desk but there was much wine drinking last night.  There was just all sorts going on and all sorts coming in and with little patience left after six weeks worth of school holidays I'm only just managing to smile.  Towards the end of the day, after explaining to small children the reason why you can't exchange 70c for a dollar coin, but before the snake catcher arrived to locate a red belly black snake, I was faced with what can only be described as a caravan conundrum.  A caravan conundrum with a tent on the side.  After sending a couple of folk down to find their spots for the night I was confused when I saw one of them drive back up to reception and march back up to the desk.  The man was angry.  Very angry.  He'd been driving all day, he was tired, he was hungry and he could not find his spot.  Now we normally have ground staff who show people to their sites, but apparently they'd not made it down there yet.  So I went down there.  I would find out what was going on.  So in my silly high heels, I clip clopped my way down through the park and into the camp and went searching for the empty spots we'd previously sent two people down to.  It was busy, there was no denying that, caravans and tents all over the place.  I was checking out the numbers, looking for the empty spots, only to be greeted by not one, but two massive caravans who had yet to move out.  Oh bugger.  On the computer these two massive caravans were not here.  But in the real world, these two massive caravans were here.  And they were in the way.  But they were on the move and that was the important thing.  I just needed to get them out nice and quick, move them to wherever they were moving to and get the new folk in.  Easier said than done when you've got two massive vans going one way, another massive van trying to come the other way and the tent folk quietly lurking in a corner watching the action.  No one wanted to reverse.  No one wanted to move.  We had a caravan stalemate with me stuck in the middle.  And the owners of the two massive vans were very friendly folk and thought the whole thing was great fun.  The angry owner of the other van was not so jolly and appeared to be seething with rage in his little green car.  Somehow I ended up directing three caravans - and the little tent dudes - hoping and praying that a ground staff member would arrive to rescue me.  Someone had to reverse, but no one was going to do that.  There was no way these vans were getting past one another.  The jolly folk wanted to go and speak to the angry man but I quickly intervened.  I was sensing a fight that I didn't want to be a part of.  So I worked between them, trying to keep everyone calm, offering suggestions, when I must confess I've never reversed a caravan.  In the end the angry dude reversed, zig zagging all over the place and the jolly folk were able to get their vans through.  It was at this point that a ground staff member arrived on a little golf buggy.  Having been out of reception for a good twenty minutes I decided it was time to hand things over.  The jolly folk had moved on, after a brief stop to remove a previously unremoved handbrake, the tent folk were still quietly lurking and the angry man was zig zagging his way back towards the now vacant spot.  I gave the ground staff member an update, quiet tent folk, angry man.  Good luck!  Then I hot footed it back to the safety of reception.  People might shout at me in there but at least no one's going to run me over with their caravan!

Little Stalky and Monster Noggin go to the Lagoon

With the sea being somewhat rough of late, Monster Noggin and I found ourselves at "the lagoon" instead.  The lagoon connects to the ocean but provides a calmer spot for swimming if you're not in the mood to tackle the waves.  We actually fancied the stretch of sand on the other side of the lagoon for a spot of sunbathing, but in order to reach said stretch of sand, it required us to cross the lagoon.  Easy enough.  As we approached, we decided it would be sensible to pack everything up into our bags, remove shorts and t-shirts (please note bikinis underneath - there's no nudity here) and hold everything up out of the water.  A great idea until we saw the sudden drop in the depth of water.  We skirted around the edge for a few moments before a fellow beach goer informed us that the lagoon did indeed get rather deep.  There was only one thing for it.  A test run!  Yes, a test run.  So we left our bags and what not on the sand and decided to do a test run.  We even imagined we were holding our bags aloft.  Walking through the lagoon and along a sand bank it seemed that we might make it, until the water suddenly appeared around our chins.  Less good.  When our feet were no longer able to touch the bottom we figured our bags would have fallen in at this point.  We must have looked a bit strange, arms in the air, but at least our experiment had worked.  There was no way we were crossing the lagoon with stuff.  So we settled for the other side of the lagoon and decided to just swim in the lagoon rather than cross the lagoon.  There was a strange current in the lagoon and we found we were being swept towards the ocean.  But this was ok because we were inches from being in inches of water.  The drop was that sudden.  There was also a sandbank at the end of the lagoon, so if we did go adrift we'd just hit the sandbank and stop.  As you do.  But neither of us were swept away and were able to enjoy a swim without being knocked over by beastie waves.  A good afternoon at the lagoon.  

Inexplicable Moo

Monster Noggin showed me how to upload photos from my phone so I'm pleased to present an actual photo portraying the wonderful redness of my chilli.  I'm so proud.  Ridiculously proud.  And I'm excited to be using this chilli in a dish I'm planning for Mystical Roo on Saturday night.  I'm also even more excited that Mystical Roo is finally coming home after numerous days away from his Little Stalky.  I'm having Mystical Roo withdrawal symptoms!  But last night he announced that he'll be getting a flight and should be home some time this afternoon.  Huge excitement!  And I'll be celebrating by treating Mystical Roo to a nice three course meal.  Yay.  But enough of all of this gushing.  There's something highly perplexing to ponder.  The inexplicable early morning mooing.  Early morning mooing!  Yes, I was out watering the plants at about 06.00, their watering being the first task of the day, and I took pause, whilst holding my little green watering can, to wonder why on earth I could hear a cow mooing.  Mooing rather enthusiastically too I might add.  And you might wonder why this is strange, what with me living in the countryside and all.  It's not like Australia doesn't have cows.  But I live right next to the beach and in the town, not next to a field as such.  And I've never noticed any cows living nearby. (As I write this the mooing has just gotten even louder and I can now hear it through closed doors and windows) Perhaps a cow has moved in next door?  Do the neighbours have a pet cow?  Have the hairdressers employed a cow mascot?  Is it not actually a cow but someone impersonating a cow?  And are they wearing a cow suit?  And would they appreciate it as much as I would?  Ah! Tangent!  Anyway, I've actually put it down to the arrival of the fair, which have set up in the showground, nicely blocking my view of the ocean.  But it's ok because I know it will only be for a couple of days.  Last year I didn't know it was just for a couple of days and I was distraught that a fair had decided to set up just as Bear Z and Rabby were due to arrive.  But thankfully they packed up fairly - ha ha - quickly and my view was restored.  Last year I remembered horses and ponies but not cows.  Do ponies moo?  I can only think that the fair have cows with them and that the cows are outside and mooing.  Possibly the only logical explanation.  Either that or my hearing is playing up on me again and what I think is mooing is actually elephants.  Pink elephants!