A hard lesson to learn

As you may had been aware for the last week we had been raising a baby Wallaby.  His name.. Fluffy Barry.. Yep kids named him. Fluffy Barry battled for a week then took a quick turn for the worse and died.  This has been a tough lesson to learn for the Ferals : nothing lives for ever.



RIP little Fuzzy Barry



As a child everything is an adventure.  One does not consider anything negative really happening.  Life is all fairy floss and lolly pops with a few sour grapes thrown in for good measure but getting to the age when one realises all is not as it seems can be confronting and frightening.

I recall as a young child loosing pets and not really thinking much of it.  The thought of getting a new animal to love far out weighed the loss of the other. I never really considered what happened or understood.  The innocence of young childhood can be a gift but also a struggle as we grow to understand the cycle of life.

 
My Grandfather passed when I was around 7.  I don't have much of a memory about him but I do remember the day we were told he was going into hospital.  I was with my cousins having photos taken by my father.  I did not understand the seriousness of all that was happening.  As long as I had my safe cocoon of family around me and cousins to play with I was happy.  My Grandfather did not come out of hospital.  I can remember my mum being upset but she must have done an incredible job to keep going as her heart would have been breaking as she cared for my sister and I.  We also lost my Great Grandmother .. Granny  .. around this time and I know I did not understand.

When a teenager my Great Grandfather .. Ganty .. was in a  home for the aged.  I recall what a drag it was to go and visit him.  How boring it seemed and how scary the elderly people were.  Oh how I wish I could turn back time and see him again.  He lived until 94 and if I had known then what I know now, what a fascinating man he was, I would have paid far more attention.  His passing I had far more of an understanding of but it did not affect me to the degree of loosing my Grandmother. Nothing has effected me to that degree ever at this stage of my life.

I some times look at the Ferals and see the love they have for my parents.  It is a love that holds no bounds.  A feeling that is mutual and one that is so special I envy their relationship and wish so much that my Grandma was here to see them.  I also know that my parents, being such a huge part of their lives,  will one day leave a hole that will never be filled.  But I am so grateful for my Ferals to have them.  The cliche of we don't know what we have until it is gone rings in my ears.

My oldest Feral has not copped very well with the loss of Fluff Barry.  Although we have lost other pets during his 9 years this is the first one that he has been old enough to form an attachment to and feel its loss.  He cried a deep guttural cry and had a nightmare which I comforted him through.  He asks the questions about heaven.  Is Fluffy there ? Is it real ?  I honestly don't know but told him if he believes it, then for him it is real.  I do not know if this eased his active mind but it did seem to help.

Unless the passing of someone close or of a beloved pet happens to us we don't really give this subject much thought.  I am grateful to have the right to put to sleep an animal that is suffering as my wonderful old horse was.  To pass with dignity and the chance to say good bye.  I personally believe we should all have the right to decide what happens to us as we age.  It is they say a time for celebration to remember all that was with a smile. Everything happens for a reason.....

Time heals all wounds we are told and to be honest I do think this is true.  We may never forget but we learn to cope and deal with the pain.  To remember the fun times and to smile at these thoughts.
I say to my Curly haired Feral how lucky we were to have Fluffy Barry and to think of the week we had him as an adventure.  We all learnt something from him entering our lives especially the Ferals.  
It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and this is a lesson no matter how hard it seems at the time, that we have all had to learn as the Ferals are now.

 I am sure if there is a heaven that Fluffy Barry is shining down on the boys and thanking them with a little paw.  He had a great week and our lives are all the richer for him being a part of it.

                    Cheers Dilly xx

A Photo

Is worth a thousand words they say.  I think they are worth a million more. They are the time capsules of our lives.  I love talking photos.

I think I can blame my dad for that.  Growing up we always had a lens shoved in our faces.  "Smile" would be said as my mum would dance some strange moves behind my father to make us grin.  They both do the same now to the Ferals .. am glad to see that has been passed down !



Happy Ferals

 I have photos of myself from the time I was born till now as most people I assume have.  They were lovingly placed in albums for me to keep by my mum and again I have done the same for the Ferals.

There are photos of me at all stages of my life ( some not so pretty I can promise that..not very photogenic I admit ) but as I have become older they have decreased.  I do not enjoy having my photo taken but, I also realise it is important for this history of my family.

My dad is a camera nut.  He was  always chasing us around snapping away on his old SLR camera.  If he wasn't chasing us kids though he would be photographing the wildlife or the tiny orchids that are native to Tasmania.  He is a specialist in the field of orchids.

So many lenses to change and rolls of film to develop.  Back before the digital camera he would take rolls of film in the hope that at least one photo would come out award winning.  He also took many slides.  It was a great tradition in our family to have other members over for a meal and for dad to then set up the old slide projector and screen for an evening of family snaps to the sounds of all the ooos and ahhhs as we watched and reminisced over the memories captured.

I loved these evenings. To curl up with my Grandmother in the dark as she relived our childhoods was very special. 

I love taking photos.  In College I studied photography. I even won an award for a photo I took of my sister.  This is where I also learnt to develop negatives and black and white prints.

Going in to the dark room to see what I could create was wonderful. Winding the negative onto the spool in complete blackness though was not.  It was all done by feel and one muck up and negatives were ruined.  But it was amazing creating these.

To print the photos was a lot of fun.  Mixing the chemicals that have a distinct odour to them. To expose the photographic paper to the negative light for the desired amount of time took alot of practise.  Counting 1   2   3   4  ..... 10   11 , in the hope that it was all exposed correctly was a game of chance.  But to then place that paper into a bath of solution and watch it develop before my eyes was amazing.  It was great to experiment and see what prints I could create.  I still have my own developing equipment in the cupboard.  I often look at it and wonder if I will ever use it again.  The answer is I don't know, but I don't want to get rid of it  'Just in case '. 

The digital age though has changed photography forever.  I must admit I was hesitant to purchase a digital camera.  My old and trusty SLR takes amazing pictures.  My dad actually won it in a photographic competition.  Great lenses and very clear, but as with all film cameras I took alot of bad photos to try and get just one goody.  All that printing costs.  At least with a digital I can snap away to my hearts content and then only play with the ones I want.



Holiday memories ...

 What I don't really like about digital photography though is they way they can enhance anyone to look different.  I can understand using it to fix lighting or to enhance them in a natural way but the body shaping and smoothing to me is fuelling the way we .. especially women.. view our selves.  They show and suggest that obviously 2 months after having a baby we are meant to be back to a new improved shape with not a stretch mark or cellulite wobble to be seen.  It is unrealistic and yep it annoys me. Where are the real women that printed photos did not lie about?  They say a photo does not lie but I am afraid in today's society they do.

 Anyway, photography to me is a joy.  I will continue to chase the ferals to get the perfect pic.  I will watch my mum do silly dances that are so endearing to her in an effort to make them laugh.  I will continue to capture all around me because in the end, a photos good or bad is still a part of my history for the Ferals to look at one day when I am old and grey (er) to say to them selves " I remember that ! "

Rain ...

It is raining again.  I suppose this is to be expected as we are nearly officially into another Tasmanian winter.
 Days of cold winds and icy frosts are coming our way but the rain is what greets us at this time.

I love the rain.  Listening to it on our tin roof while lying in bed can be so soothing.  It can make me feel like I would like to stay there all day and just listen to mother nature dropping her precious water on our earth.  I love the rain.

Being on tank water it is always nice to know I can spend that bit extra time in the shower with out having to worry about the water level.  I can stand there and absorb the warmth.  It is a great feeling.



A wild wet day on Tamanias
 rugged coast line



The rain is feeding my garden for the warmer seasons ahead.  Soaking the rich soil until it over flows in to puddles on the lawn.  It is full of the goodness that a garden needs.

A rainy day makes me feel like snuggling up with a good book and lazing in front of the fire with my dog, cat and wombat ( and now baby Wallaby ) enjoying its heat.  Having a hot chocolate to warm me up from the inside..ahh

It does not make me feel like tackling the supermarket and pushing a trolley through a torrential down pour .. was not a lot of fun believe me !!

Rainy days are known as Miserable days.  Although one can feel a bit meloncoly on a rainy day they can for me still bring a sense of calm and renewal.  I love a rainy day.

So I will stick to my rainy days of warmth and hot chocolate.  I will listen to the rain on my tin roof and remember that mother nature is far more powerful than we, as a human will ever be.

What do you love about the rain ??

            Cheers Dilly xx

I am a Soccer Mum ...

Soccer is a word that sends a cold shiver down my spine.  Its not from the game its self but from knowing I will be standing out in the freezing elements with all the other poor parents while our Ferals run around chasing a ball in the hope it heads in the right direction of a goal.  Yep I am a soccer mum !

" Do you want to play soccer this year ? " is a question I ask the Ferals around the end of February.  It is always answered with a resounding " Yes !".  Deep breathe I remind myself....
So the preparation begins ....

Do we need to purchase new boots and shin pads?  Have they grown out of their socks and shorts?
YES YES YES YES !!! ahhhh... I knew this would be the answer.

Now the Weed is very easy to fit. Small feet, Weedy build and can still shop in the little kid area BUT the curly haired boy is another story all together.  For a child who is 9 he wears a men's size 10 shoe.  Now to put that in perspective, his Grandfather only wears a 9 and his dad an 11. 
 I look at him like a puppy.  One tends to check out the size of a puppy's feet to get some idea on how large they will grow as an adult ... well my curly boy is going to be HUGE !!
He has a fantastic grip on the earth believe me.  But with feet this size of course there has to be a down side.  Yep we have to buy adults boots.  So instead of purchasing boots that are a nice little price we now have to pay at least $100.  Not a happy mum I can assure you but these are the things we do for our offspring.

Anyway with all that done and dusted it is time to start training.  Of course they have it on different nights after school and as soon as they finish we have to dash off like startled Possums to the next round of activities. Finally we make it home again just before it is time for me to whisk up some miracle of an evening meal.  But these are the things we do.

Soccer training I must admit though can be quite amusing.  It is a great chance for the parents  .. usually mums ... to stand around and gossip while watching our future athletes of the century chase the ball around.  The Curly boy has a huge kick on him when he can actually be bothered.  The Weed would rather run around with his friends dancing some strange move while hugging his mates.  It can be rather comical, but it is good exercise and bonding for all involved.  This is also the time they hand out the dreaded Saturday morning rosters !!!!

Ok, so one Feral has a 9.00am game and the other has an 11.00am game on the first week ...  ugh.  I continue to read and then find some of their matches are at the same time but on totally opposite sides of the oval.  This will involve from me, some major manoeuvres through the "strong " crowd to be able to watch both play for at least half a game each.  I knew all that gym work would come in handy...
The games that are played an hour apart though can be the tricky ones.  How to keep 2 Ferals entertained in freezing conditions can be a huge challenge in its self.  I suppose that is why they invented coffee !!

The ground where they play really is in a beautiful part of our local city.  It is directly opposite a lovely, kid friendly beach and on a sunny day is just beautiful, BUT when the wind is roaring in from the sea, a thick white frost is turning into a black one and we are standing huddled under umbrellas being blown inside out I can assure you it is not a pretty picture.  The future soccer's stars though, will continue to run around in their shorts and t shirts oblivious to the weather as they aim to score the elusive goal.  Some times I think the saying  " no sense no feeling " does tend to apply !!

Both Ferals are on a $1 a goal as a way of getting some movement in their own personal games.  As yet I have not had to dip my hand into my pocket so I feel I will not walk away any poorer this season.  They try though I must admit !!

Anyway with the game over it is time to reflect.  They all line up to shake the hands of their opponents in a show of sportsmanship and then bolt to grab warmer clothes and a well deserved drink.

  The question is then asked " What is there to eat?  I'm hungry ' Knowing full well that a not so subtle hint has been dropped for a trip to some fast food place.  This decision will depend on the mood of the parent ie: me, after standing out in the freezing cold. A mood that may or may not darken my personal storm at the time asked.  50% chance either way on that one !

So we head to what ever destination has been agreed upon ( or what i have decided to be more exact ) and de frost.  Only to them realise it will all be on again next week.  Same place , probably different times and fingers crossed with better weather .. but hey ..  that's what being a soccer mum is all about and to be truthful I really do enjoy seeing the Ferals run with big smiles on their faces as their teams again miss that elusive goal.  Bring it on I say !!!

    Cheers Dilly xx

The Bucket List

Do we all have a list of things to do before we leave this earth in body? Do we have a list that we want to at least attempt to fulfil? Or are they just dreams that underneath you know that the reality of them happening is pretty much minimal?
I think we all do even if we have never really sat down and thought about it.

There are times I am sure one says " Oooo i would love to go there" or  'wouldn't it be so rewarding to have achieved that goal before ... " so yes we I have.

Ok so now it is time to make my Bucket list.  Here goes !!

1. To travel to Macquarie Island and see all of the wildlife.  A dream I have had for ever.
2. To travel to Tasmanias outer islands and explore all they have to offer. I have been told they are breath taking.
3. To learn how to REALLY cook.  How to dazzle with my cooking prowess instead of the Ferals saying ... ugh not that again
4. To write a book.  Most likely a child's book on some animal that has passed through my arms at some stage.
5. To re teach myself to read music.  I used to be part of a Wind Symphony many years ago as I played the flute. Unfortunately I have lost the ability to read music over the years as practise became a thing of the past.
6. To go Roller Skating again.  When a teenager I would go to the local roller rink and skate regularly.  I think I still have my skates somewhere in the deep recces of the wardrobe.  It would be a lovely feeling to re visit that fun time.
7. To travel around Australia and see what is right on my door step.
8. To sail. Just sail somewhere.  I love the water and do so enjoy watching the breeze flow over majestic sails.
9. To swim with whales or dolphins.  This is a HUGE to do on my list.  Sea turtles or any other marine animal would be just fine as well.
10. To scuba dive again. I do have my diving ticket but circumstances stopped this quite a while go.  To see what the ocean has to offer is totally mind blowing.
11. To be brave enough to go back to study.  I don't know what i would like to undertake but to actually achieve something academically would be a big confidence booster for me.
12. To get my motor bike licence.  I would love this and it is one I feel I may be able to achieve hopefully in the not so distant future ...  fingers crosses !

Now I am sure I will in time add to this list.  I also have ideas in my head of what I want to have happen in other aspects of my life too but these are for me to know only.  My personal list.

So have a think about what you would like to do.  Think of what you can do to make yourself feel like you have achieved what you wanted too.
I know realistically many of my chosen will probable not happen but it is ok to dream.  I will continue to take baby steps forward and .... Hey ...  You  I never know what opportunity may come knocking at the door. So grab it by the horns and run before it turns and chases you the other direction !!!

I would love to know any of my readers wishes for their Bucket list .  What do you want to do ?


                  Cheers Dilly xx

For mum xxx

Today in our fair country it is Mothers Day.  A time when we reflect on all that our mums do and have done for us.  A time to really appreciate all they stand for.  A day for mums.

My mum I must admit is pretty great.  She is there for me no matter what.  She has supported me through the highs and lows of my colourful life.  She has cried as her Grandchildren came into this world and held them so tight she may never have wanted to let them go. She is my mum.

As a kid I do totally admit I was at times a bit of a handful.  I figured .. ' What did she know !!' Well it has come to my attention that she knew a hell of a lot so here are some of the things I should have listened to her more about:

•   I am lucky to have her, which is something I did not realise to much later on.
•   That yes, she did know best with most things.
•   That I should have worked better at school and that homework may have been a huge drag  but  it would have helped my grades
•   That being 40+ is not old like I thought her to be.
•   That yes it is ok to be different.
•   That I should have appreciated her more when a kid.
•   How hard it is raising kids .. as a kid I thought every day should be kid day and  'didn't she  know that  !!'
•   That money does defiantly not grow on trees and parents can not always provide what kids want.



The Ferals school made gifts.
How beautiful they are x

  This year I have been woken by the ferals running up the stairs with a box of choccies and beautiful school made gifts.  Cards that say how much they love me and all I do for them.  But somehow the choccies seemed to disappear down their mouths faster than mine and I am told some not so pretty things, so I suppose Karma does exist. I will still treasure these for years to come and as I am a very sentimental person they will be put away with all the others from years past so one day I can reflect on these times and smile.

I know they love me but as with most kids they take it for granted that I will do things for them.  Its part of growing up I suppose.  Hub is not a big believer in ' commercial ' days and as I am not his mother it is all quiet on that front.  But hey that is ok ..that's his belief and we are all entitled to those.

My dear Dad will organise something for mum and I tonight so we don't have to cook and we will share this day together and give thanks for mums every where.

It is a day I will think about my Grandmother and wish she was here with us still as always.  It is a day that I will think of my dear friend and know how much she would desperately still want to take her mother by the hand and tell her how much she loves her.  I will contact her today and send love.

So today.. Mothers day .. I wish all the mums a very special and loving day.  For those who are celebrating their first.. have fun !!  But I suppose it is time I dragged myself down stairs and made the Ferals breakfast ... I can hear them hollering, and no matter what happens today I will read those cards and bask in the fact that they do love me even though being a kid we they do tend to forget that !!

Happy mothers Day Mum and thanks for all you are and do.  Thanks for giving your self with heart and soul to helping me become who I am today..warts and all xxx

                Cheers Dilly xx

Tomorrow is another day

Do you ever have days that you wish would just disappear into oblivion?
Do you ever have times when you just wish the earth would swallow you up or you would like to crawl into a hole and hide?
Do you have times when you just wish people would mind their own business .. even if they mean well .. and just let you get on with it ?     I do.

Sometimes I will say something, then wish I could take it back.  Like for instance asking a lady when her baby was due, to then be told she was not pregnant.  Not a good moment for either of us.
The old saying of think before opening your mouth does apply to me many times.

There are days when it all just seems to hard.  Days when the ferals fighting wears me down to the point of wanting to run away and forget all about it.  Times when I feel completely over being on call for everyone for the most silly things.  But we I must go on and battle through because 'Tomorrow is another day'.

Days of repeating the same thing over and over.
Days of feeling unappreciated.
Days of wondering what is the purpose of someone hurting.
Days of wondering what could have been.
Just days ...

Break of a new day .. the sun will come up again
Photo by Tasnature

My curly haired boy seems to be learning about life the hard way.  There are times it all seems too huge for him to handle.  Times when he wishes to climb into that hole, but I always remind him that the sun will come up on a new day and things will get better.  I think he is slowly starting to understand this concept.

There are days when you I can breath a sigh of relief they are passing.  Days of " Here we go again " but I then have to remind my self that " Hey ... at least I am here !!! "

Many years ago there was a time that the glass was always half empty.  A time when negative far  outweighed the positive.  Yes the sun did still come up day after day but oh how I wished it didn't.
A time when I lived on auto pilot and forgot to stop and smell the roses.  But .. one day the fog cleared and guess what?? The sun was shining and the roses smelt great.  It was a long hard journey but here I still am.

I feel that no matter what life now throws at me I will cope.  Yep there are still times I would rather pull a blanket over my head and hide but still I can climb out and put a smile on my face which automatically makes me feel better.  I am a big believer of a smile . 

A sincere smile can lighten not only my day but others around me.  A smile is worth a thousand words and is a universal language.  I don't care that it gives me wrinkles as I believe wrinkles tell the story of a life .... both the good and the bad parts .... a journey to today.  A time when we I can look back and say that day helped make me what I am and hey I am not perfect but this is me.

Realising tomorrow is another day can ease anguish and make one see clearer.  The saying ' To sleep on it' can be a powerful thing.  I am, as I have said earlier, a big believer in 'Everything happens for a reason ' , although it can take a while for that to become apparent.  But all these experiences make us who we are.



So yes tomorrow is another day.  I am hoping the sun will come up ( forecast is for rain though! ) and all will look clearer.  Maybe I will make decisions that I should have long ago. 

 Decide on the next path to travel, or which direction I should steer myself in. 

 But maybe I should also just be grateful that I am able to see the sun rise,  smell the roses and appreciate all around me.

Yep Tomorrow is another day and it will become a piece of my history no matter how it ends up.  I know now, that this day too will pass and I never know what is around the corner to make me smile !!





                          Cheers Dilly xx

The Wild life

By wildlife I do not mean the nights out on the turps to the sound of some wild band pumping out a tune that I am sure has heard better days. 

 I do not mean the kids dressed to so call impress members of the opposite sex, or the oldies ( that's me ) out to reminisce the days when we I was one of the younger crowd.  Nope I don't mean that at all.  I am talking about Tasmania's unique fauna.  Our protected animals so different to any where else in the world. 

 If you have not worked out I am passionate about all that Tasmania has to offer by now I think you should probably read my Blog  " Imagine a Place "  and that will get you up to speed.

There are so many different species in our great state that I can not possibly mention them all.  I have talked about my Wombat, Lilly, ( See Blog " 3 in the Bed " ) and could still talk about her for hours more but I wont go into that now ( although she is DIVINE !! ).

 I have mentioned briefly Echidnas and Platypus ( Blog " To tatt or not to tatt ' ).  These creatures are so fascinating I could spend a whole page on them too. Also our Tasmanian Devils are so unique and in so much danger of becoming extinct due to the terrible facial cancer that is decimating  their population that there is an assumption they may be gone from the wild in a few years. ( I wrote of these in Blog   ' Imagine a place '  ) There is nothing as cute as a baby Tasmanian Devil.
 We are a State of natural wealth.

Me aged about 7
 with an Echidna

Tasmania is an Island .. for those who don't know.. below the large main land Australia.  It once was joined to the main land millions of years ago but after it separated it became home to rare and enchanting creatures. I am passionate about our wildlife.

I was one of the few very lucky kids to grow up with all sorts of different creatures entering my home.  My dad was and still is to an extent a wildlife rehabilitator.  It was not unusual to come home and find a Platypus in the bath, an Echidna on the table having lunch or a Wedge Tailed Eagle being tended to after it was shot by some thoughtless person.  We had Owls, Wallaby's, Possums, Native Mice, Sugar Gliders, Quolls and baby Devils just to name a few. Luckily my mum also shares this passion, so for my family it was an easy experience.



Penelope
Brush Tailed Possum

  All these creature nurtured my love of wild life and it is the main reason I do the same today.  I want my ferals to have the same desire to see these creatures for all they are as I do.


One of my favourite native animals is a possum.  Now to some I know possums are nothing but a pest and I can see many shaking their head in disbelief, but to me they are far from that.
Possums are a marsupial ( means they have a pouch  ) and are nocturnal.  They are very very inquisitive and quite hilarious when you get to know them. 
 I raised my first Possum when about 12.  Her name was Penelope and I LOVED her.  A Brush tail Possum, black in colour with a bright pink nose.  A Possum that arrived to our family wrapped in a leather jacket on a motor bile with a tough looking biker bloke who then ever so gently passed her over.  She was love at first sight for me.


Penelope did not have much fur when she arrived but with lots of love and attention she grew rapidly.  I would take her to school in my back pack on my bike to feed her during the day. 


She lived a long time in our garden and brought home many babies for us to watch grow from the tiny jelly bean to the fully furred adult. She had a male admirer we called Pus Eyed George and I am sure he was the dad of many.  The adventures of Penelope the Possum I will save for another day and yes there is a big story to tell about her !
Possums are a great animal to have raised.  They are friendly and affectionate.  Yes. they are prone to piddling on you when least expected and are sneaky at getting into places they really should not be but I still do love Possums. I think I have probably raised around 15 of them.


The two main species we have are the pre mentioned Brush Tailed Possum .. called this due to its big bushy tail, and the much smaller Ring Tailed Possum.  Both are delightful.
Not that long ago I was fortunate to come into the possession of 2 baby Ringtails which the ferals promptly called Fifi ( girl) and Fuzz (boy ).  They were great fun.


Brush Tailed Possum
scratched hands

They were still on the bottle when they arrived, so there were many late night feeds I had to drag myself out of bed for.  The ferals loved them.  Often they would all be found curled up together snoozing.  We also had the competition who had the most possum scratches from their claws on our hands.  Ferals went close with that one.
They would scamper all over the house and jump onto our bodies.  They rode on the dogs back and would run up bare legs if given half a chance ... Ouch big time !!


Fuzz was a grey colour with a white tail tip but Fifi was a rare Red.  Both beautiful, both so soft it was like touching a baby's fine hair. Both went to live on a reserve and as far as I know they are repopulating just fine.

To raise an animal is a rewarding and cherished experience.  I know nothing can replace the natural mother but there are times, like last night, when it was bitterly cold and Lilly chewed on the door to come in.  I was sitting on the floor in front of the fire and she climbed into my lap and curled up and went to sleep.  Such trust, and I didn't even mind that she smelt terrible.. She was home where she belongs and that makes it all worth while.

Our native wildlife in Tasmania is unique and something no matter what we should endeavour to save.  With many species a permit is required to raise them but if you ever have the chance and time to raise one it is a experience worth having.

 So to all you possum protesters out there,  yes they may eat your roses and fruit trees but next time you see one take a good look at their little faces and you will notice they are all as individual as we are. So I say go out side at night and have a good wander.  Have a sniff for possum piddle and you never know what might sneak up benind you and place little paws on your legs.

    Cheers Dilly xx

The Oval Ball

Ok, what I am about to express is my view only, so to all you die hard fans of this Oval Ball game please do not fetch your voodoo dolls of me and poke them with pins.  Now that said I will continue.

Football, Footy or Australian Rules as it is known, is a game that I do not understand.  It is a game that no matter how hard I have tried ( and I do admit I have not tried very hard ) just does not install a sense of passion in me.  I just don't get it.

Lots of men wearing tight shorts and sleeveless tops running around in an oval of mud chasing a ball made from the hide of some poor beast to the cheers of a crowd.  The shorts are usually way too small hence leaving not alot to the imagination..( prob why some women like it.)  Wearing tops that show off muscles that are .. ok ..  I admit are rather nice, but still I don't get why some people virtually pass out at the sight of a footballer. Don't they realise this game is played in winter with rain, hail and freezing temperatures??  Didn't their mums tell them to wear a nice warm thermal to keep their torsos warm?  I still don't get it.  Maybe there is something wrong with me??  Hmmm ( all those agreeing please nod head now ;-) )

Footy is a game played by youngsters from a very early age.  It is probably born into many of them.  It is expected that boys especially will love the game and want to follow in the foot steps of some bloke who kicked 100 goals.  Still I don't get it.
I see parents out on the weekends watching their future champions of the game, supporting them from the side lines, encouraging them to mark the ball or kick it for all they are worth.  Some I see, I have to admit, do tend to get a bit over zealous in their encouragement but probably most games can be the same.  But still it is a game that is played through out this vast country to almost cult proportions.

The ball itself I have never been able to master.  Yes it is oval with laces on top but it also has a huge mind of its own when it comes to going the direction it is intended.  I know there is a certain way in which it should be bounced but I have no where near mastered that.  The ball I try to control usually ends up the other side of whoop whoop with me chasing after it cursing under my breath.
As for kicking it.  Ha ha  what a joke  !!!  Don't ever ask me to demonstrate to ferals the correct technique for kicking this piece of leather.  I would usually land on my derriere in a not so lady like display of foot ball uselessness.  Not one of my mastered talents.
It is a ball that apparently has to be held the right way up.  Held at the right angle and kicked off ones foot at a certain spot.  Nope my attempts do not even come close.

I have only ever been to 1 .. yes 1 .. foot ball game.  Hub took me years ago in the capital city of footy.  All I remember was it was freezing, some bloke in front was a bit over intoxicated and that the fans on the edges would yell and scream at the poor umpires with an aggressive manner.  Hmmm it was a bit of an eye opener for an innocent country girl like me ( cough cough ).
He has tried to encourage me to go to another but personally I would rather wax my legs after 20 weeks of growth and I am sure I would probably enjoy that pain more !! 

The supporters are a league of their own.  I do actually admire them, especially the totally devoted ones who live and breathe footy.  To have a belief in something so passionately must in my books be worth a footy supporters jumper at the end of a game.  The intensity that these people can feel is something that I never have, so I suppose I can not understand.  But it is still just a game. !!!

I have said numerous times to those following this Oval Ball game that it is indeed,  just a game.  I am then eyeballed with the intensity of a cat watching a rat and told ever so politely .. " It is more than a game ".  Huh.. more than a game?  Isn't it still the same game they were told as a kid that it does not matter if you win or loose?  The same game that you are told " As long as you tried and had fun ". The same game where you were told as a child that it is " just a game".??  Apparently not.
It is more than a game .. to some it is a religion worth worshipping. 

Grand final is in September.  It is a day that the majority of Australia stops for.  A day when BBQ's are organised at a mates house with a few tinnies thrown in, and chips to be chucked around.  A day when supporters decorate their homes and them selves in the colours of the team they support as a sign of solidarity ( and to probably peeve off others who's team did not make the final ).  A day when Australia holds its breath while the Australian National Anthem is sung to the roar of the 100 000 strong crowd.  A day when shopping is a breeze as the crowds are few and far between which suits me just fine !!  

But in the end all are entitled to their own opinion and for those who love this game with passion I say good on you.  It may not be my cup of tea but if it is yours I am sure I will hear you yelling at the top of your lungs when some big burly muscled man with tight shorts and that cut off sleeveless top kicks another goal between those posts to score the winning goal.  Still... its just a game !!!

 P.S.  Ouch ... I am sure I just felt a pin prick ... ahhhhhh   !!!! 

               Cheers  Dilly xx

Are we supposed to know it all ??

Well are we??  It appears we are.  Do we really have to know all that is expected of us as a mother, as a person?  Are we automatically supposed to know not to panic when ones child is lying limp in your arms after an operation went wrong?? Yes we are,  but the reality is not like that.  There is HEAPS I do not know.

For instance, I do not know where the tiny little piece of a certain toy is.  Even though the ferals are convinced I have taken it away to the land of the disappearing toys I honestly do not know its where abouts.

I do not know where all the odd socks go.  I am sure they went into the washing machine together but after that I know nothing.  Does it really matter if they don't match?? Surely ones of similar colour can be worn as a fashion statement of some kind.

I  do not know how to make a sponge cake without it flopping into a pan cake or worse.  I have tried but it just does not happen for me.

I can not work out instructions when handed to me on paper.  I am a visual person and if shown I can do it, but do not expect me to put together that toy of a zillion pieces in 2 minutes flat.  It just wont happen.

I do not know how to be the perfect mum.  I have oodles of flaws and I am making heaps of mistakes but I am trying.  I am doing the best I can and learning every day so that will have to do.

I don't know how to use the computer games my kids play.  If there is a problem or level they can not get past there is really no point in asking me as I know nothing.  Yes I am game illiterate and have no desire to become a game genius at all.  They always work it out anyway.

I do not know where all hubs stuff goes.  He has a great habit of just plopping his stuff anywhere.  Ok, yes I do get fed up with it and have been known to move certain things but I do not know where all is.  He will have a bloke look and occasionally find what he is looking for but I do not know where the rest hides.

I do not know how to ski, trapeze, cook gourmet food or ride a bike on 1 wheel.
  I have no idea how to use the chain saw or back a trailer. 
I do not know how to play pool well or ride a motor bike.

I don't know why people are mean to each other and why there are wars.
  I don't know why we as a society put so much pressure to our selves to be a certain way. 
 I have no idea why it really feels like you heart will break when something special is over.
I do not know everything.

I do know however that tomorrow will be a new day.  That eventually the piece of missing toy will probably turn up and that I will continue to try and master the sponge cake.

I do know that a smile is worth a thousand words and kindness can go a long way.
 I do know that you get out of life what you put into it but you can not always guarantee some will do to you as you do to them. 
I know that rain is essential and sun brings a sense of new happiness within our selves.
I do know that I love my ferals with all my heart and no matter what they say to me I know they love me too.

So I do know some things and there are things I do not feel I need to know at all, but I am always willing to learn if the need arises.  
I will always tell the truth but will not admit to things I have not done just to keep the peace.

I may not know everything but I know enough and that to me is all I need.



          Cheers Dilly xx

I went walking...

Today I did that just that.  Put on my walking shoes, shorts, grabbed a very excited dog and went for a walk.  Today, even though it is nearly officially winter, it is a beautiful crisp sunny day.  We have been so lucky with the weather this year.

Anyway, Joe and I headed to the beach.  Yes, just a beach, but a beach that makes one smile.

I live about 5 mins drive from one of Tasmania's most lovely and safe beaches.

It is nestled into an estuary that has been a family favourite for many for years.

 It is a breeding area for our Gulls and Turns.  A nursery for the Gummy shark and the worlds smallest Penguin.  How lucky we are.



It is a beach that has very high tides but also very low.  When the tide is low it is a great place to look for crabs and anemones.  There are thousands of Soldier Crabs that appear at low tide on the sand to feed.  If you are quiet one can hear them scuttle over the sand.  The ferals love to collect them. They don't nip so are the perfect kid friendly beach crab to play with. There is a huge bio- diversity of creatures to explore with-in this estuary.

In the summer when the weather fills our souls with warmth, we are at this beach at least every other day.  The ferals go exploring and build sand castles for the collected crabs, then swim and surf in the waves.

They find rock pools to lay in with water so warm.  Rocks to climb and explore.  The rocks at this beach are tinged a beautiful orange.  It is unique to this area. 

It is an unpolluted beach.  A beach for fishing and boating.  A beach for picnics and at certain times dog walking.  Joe loves it.  He is a mad swimmer.  I can throw him a stick 50 times and he will always retrieve it no matter how deep he has to go.  He is stick and ball obsessed so a trip to the beach for some retrieving suits him just fine.

It is a beach opposite one of Tasmania's finest National Parks.  You can swim over if good enough but most take boats for a days picnic.  It is a National Park that is renowned for its native wildlife.  A National Park where there is a huge population of Wombats, so it is rather close to my heart.  I love this estuary.  I often see the White Bellied Sea eagle glide over head.  It is reassuring to know that this area can still make way for such a majestic bird.

When a child you could still camp at this beach on the foreshore so close to the water you could almost touch it from your tent.  It was days of sun, friends and camp fires all rolled into one big fun experience.  Unfortunately this is unable to happen now.  Its called progress, but at least we still have the beach.

I spent many days when a kid at this beach with my family.  Days of swimming with friends and picnics.  The beach its self has not changed.  A bit of sand movement is all that is different.  The surrounding  environment though has made way for housing progress. Many of the old shacks that once graced the former dirt road have given way to luxury homes.  But one can still see the occasional original beach shack and the stories the walls of these buildings could tell would probably fill their own book.

The water is always beautiful.  When the tide has been out the sun heats up the sand so the water that comes flowing back over it warms to a bath.  It is the perfect water to just enjoy. 

 The ferals love to snorkel its hidden charms.  In Tasmania we may not have the brightest coloured fish due to the colder waters compared to up North, but we still have plenty of beautiful visions to see.  Rays, Puffer Fish and if lucky Sea Horses will materialise before you.  There is enough to make even the hardiest Feral squeal with excitement. It is a wonderland of the marine world that is right on our door step.



 So my walk today was a breath taking one.  A walk full of fresh air and sea breeze.  Of beautiful expanses of sand and water that is just waiting for the influx of swimmers next summer. 

Joe enjoyed himself and collapsed into the car for the trip home.  A tired dog totally exhausted by the joy of running, chasing gulls and swimming.  A happy tired dog if ever I saw one.

I aim to walk again tomorrow.  I hope the weather is just as beautiful but even if not I know the beach will do the day justice no matter what.  I know I am fortunate to live where I do and I hope all that are in these areas realise this too. 

It is an area that needs to be protected for generations to come so others can see the Penguins return year after year.  A beach for future ferals to explore with as much enthusiasm as mine do.

                     Cheers Dilly xx

The Weed

I have written plenty of stories and have mentioned The Weed in many but I have not as yet brought him to the front of my tales.  So I think I will now.  Introducing The Weed !!!!

Imagine a blond, skinny child with huge brown eyes and olive skin and you have The Weed.  A child with the ability to make strangers stop and stare at his beauty and perfect looks.  I have had plenty of comments about him and yes I am biased but also have a guilty pleasure in knowing they are right.  I have always felt if we lived in a place where child modelling was available he could have set him self up even at this age with looks like his.  We all think our children are beautiful and rightly so.  My Curly boy is exceptionally handsome too ... but two more different looking siblings you would be hard to find.

The Weed was a much smaller baby than my first.  A child that screamed constantly.  I firmly believed he was the most unhappy child there ever was.  A mummy's boy ( and he still is which I am happy about ! ).
A child never really interested in food.  A child who liked to watch and absorb all that went on around him.  A midwife said to me shortly after he was born that she was sure he had been on this earth before.. and I still do tend to agree with her.

He was born with pitch black hair and no sign of curls like his brother.  This hair eventually fell out and grew back white blond.  So different, so baby fine and so beautiful.  His hair although still blond is now darker and will probably darken more still.  But I have beautiful photos of that white blond hair.

The Weed has the most wicked sense of humour.  He can find funny in anything.  A born performer and dancer.  He can enthral any audience with his Wit when he chooses.  A comic and cheeky one at that.  I have been trying to convince him to take dance classes but so far to no avail.  He would be great at it.  The perfect body shape, quick on his feet and a natural grace but being a boy it is not that easy to convince him but I will persist and hope it will come to fruition.

He has always been dominated by his older brother of 29 months.  He always went along with what ever was asked of him.  Because there is such a HUGE size difference between them it was always easier for The Weed to agree, BUT,  late last year things started to change.  Weed was no longer talking all dealt to him... He was fighting back.  He may be small but with quick feet, an ability to jump and teeth to back him up it was revenge full steam ahead.

So we have had many fights between them.  I have had to referee a few too may times to count but part of me thinks good on him for standing up for himself.  He will never beat his brother in physical strength but can in other ways.

He can though be a real pain.  His cheekiness has the ability to get him into trouble.  He likes to blame his brother for things and can be very stubborn.  He may look cute but there is a definite devil hiding behind those long eyelashes !

What The Weed will go on to do when older is still a mystery to me.  He has interests but nothing that seems to stand out as a for-runner.  He is slowly developing more of his own likes and dislikes and finding his own identity which I feel does take longer for a younger sibling to do.  He is a thinker but also a comic that still has to realise the importance of what goes on around him.. He is yet to truly develop a natural curiosity as currently life is still one big party.

But at the age of 6 1/2 I could not be more proud of him.  He knows he is loved and he is loving in return.  He delights us all with his antics, many we have on film so when he turns a certain age I am sure they will be on show for all to see. 

 I fully expect him to break many hearts of poor unsuspecting girls in the future and use his looks to his full advantage.  But if he continues to be himself, stay true to who he is and strive to be all he can I am sure he will be successful at what ever he chooses to do or what life is bound to throw at him.  After all, weeds do have a habit of getting into all types of places just through sheer determination and that describes him perfectly .

                Cheers Dilly xx

Home away from home

What is it about a cubby house that brings the inner child out in us all?
Is it where you first played house when a kid? 
Did you have friends over and pretend to be so grown up?
Was it a place you could take refuge in when in trouble?
I think it is all these...

When a kid, my sister and I would set up chairs in a round shape and collect lots of blankets to make the roof and sides.  We would want it as dark as possible with no escape hatches for the poor unsuspecting dog and cat to make a mad dash out of.  We would take in toys, food and bedding to make a cosy nest that we did plan of course to sleep in.  A place of imagination and childhood fun.



Mushroom kids !!

But a cubby house out side is another matter all together.  My sister, cousins and I had a cubby up the back of our horse paddock.  It was made of thick plastic stretched between trees and a frame made by us.  We had a table and chairs, a campfire, hammocks made out of hessian bags, a vegie patch and an area to tether our horses.  It was great !  It was called... and I am not joking about this.. "The Cooked Mushroom Country Club Cubby".  Yep it was.  Why I have totally no idea.  There were wild mushrooms up there so maybe thats the answer.

We had our own flag and team song " We are the mushroom kids" which I can still remember the words too.  Other kids from the neighbourhood could be inducted as well.  There were badges to earn and diary's to keep.  I can not recall how many members we did have but it was quite popular.

Our poor horses would spend their days tied up watching us while we did kid stuff.  They were such patient animals who we all adored.  We would call them, jump on and ride them to the top of the paddock and spend the day getting filthy and having so much fun.

I would go there by myself sometimes to just think.  If I had been in trouble I would grab my beloved horse and spend time with her there.  She always solved everthing for me. I was a great place to just get away with out going too far from home.

I think the cubby started to fall victim to the weather after a few years and, we grew older and more  interested in other things.  Its a shame really but we really did have the best time.

The ferals now do a similar thing.  We often have a house built within ours.  The pull every imaginable blanket or sheet out of cupboards and off beds.  They make it so dark you need a torch to see inside.  They take so much stuff in they can hardly move and the poor cat and dog are also dragged along.  Lilly wombat used to as well but she quickly learnt to disapear when they were on the hunt for animal victims !

They also have a great cubby their dad built them in our garden down by the bush.  It is raised off the ground so snakes find it harder to get in.  It has a slide out of it into a grubby sand pit.  It has windows, carpet and a good locking door.  A verandah too completes it.  Do you think they want to play in this expensive work of cubby art??  Not a chance.  They would rather pull branches off trees and pile them on top of each other and wiggle underneath.  I suppose we should have known.

They did decided though to sleep in there one night.  All bedding was dragged down, pillows and sleeping bags, torches and the dog.  We tucked them in , said good night and walked back inside. I started counting and I doubt I even got to 20 when they were back in the door. Apparently the Weed was scared but I know they both were.

So cubby houses are I think a great memory to have.  The are a fun way to practice life skills and can teach kids to be creative.  I will probably still spend hours yet to come re folding all the blankets as the ferals create another master piece but hey, at least they are having fun.

Did you have a cubby?


                        Cheers Dilly xx

Why did I start ?

Why did I start to write a Blog?  I have asked myself this many times even though I have only been going for a short time.  What finally made me decide to put fingers to keyboard to write? Was it just the right time or just a whim I decided to act upon.  Truthfully probably both and more.

I have always been interested in writing but have never considered myself any good at it.  At school I would struggle to write an essay or even a short story.  This was never my forte.  As mentioned in my blog  " What if  ??" it is obvious school and I did not have a great relationship.  But things change. We get older and for me suddenly I had the desire to write stuff down.  To express what was inside my sometimes fuddled head. 

So here I am.  A 40 something mum of two ferals putting nails to keyboard to try and say what I feel I needed too.  It is extremely therapeutic I must admit too !!

Me .. With usual smile !!
this is one pic of me I really like. 

 How the stories come to my head .... well they just appear.  There are some I have been mulling over for a long time and others that I just think of out of the blue when something triggers it. 

I am a very sentimental person.  I can live in the past way too much if I allow myself.  I love to remember things that I have experienced and to then see them, for what they are, and were, at this older age.

I am sure there were many negatives too that I have experienced but I am glad it is the positives that are for -most in my mind

I was told recently by a friend that they were surprised by some of the things I had written.  They said they had never considered me to be a deep thinker.  I am not sure if this is a compliment or not but, they were pleasantly surprised as too how much I do analyse what goes on around me.  I have never considered myself a shallow person,  a bit silly sometimes but I have mostly kept my deepest thoughts and ideas to myself. 

Those who know me well can agree that I am quite an emotional person.  I like to let it all out in a big way when upset or really happy.  These emotions I do not hide but still there is plenty in me left just for myself.  I have been known to throw a big wobbly when the need in my own mind has arisen and to jump for joy in an enthusiastic manner when happy.  I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and that is one reason why I can be a deep thinker.

Writing this Blog has enabled me to express who I am.  It has given me a poetic licence to say what I feel.  All views I express are my view only.  As a reader you can take from it what you want or ignore my ramblings.

I have been amazed as to who is actually reading all I have to say.  I know I have a large readership in Australia but Russia is next in line.  That amazes me.  Also the USA. UK, Canada, Malaysia, Singapore, Germany and Holland feature.  I thank these people far and wide for being curious in what I say and for coming back for more..  Please feel free to follow my Blog by clicking the " Follow" link on my page.  Its rather exciting !!!

So Welcome and thanks for reading.  Any ideas you may have for a story that I can share my views on please say. This whole journey for me has proved to myself that I can do it and maybe I have more to say that I initially thought !!!  

                 Cheers Dilly xx