Signs of drought 2

However hard we might think the drought is for those of us in suburbia, it is of course so much worse for our rural cousins, their livestock and wildlife.

Last week we were investigating the Bournda National Park (just north of Merimbula), and went looking for Lake Bondi, the smaller of the park's two main lakes and the one where my husband said they did kayaking. We had a little trouble locating this lake, but eventually found a minor track leading off a larger one that led to a grassy plain, which we realised was in fact the lake, or what remained of it. Now, it's quite possible that this dries up every summer and fills in winter and so it's dryness has nothing to do with drought, but it was still sad to see the dead tortoise splayed in the middle of the field. Still, it wasn't a loss for everyone: the kangaroos seem to be enjoying it!

Signs of drought

I used to have a lawn: a lush, verdant, thick lawn. These days, with our stage 3A water restrictions, we're not allowed to water lawns anymore. We can water the rest of the garden between 6 am and 8 am on two designated days per week. There are ways around this: water tanks and using grey water. I do use some grey water, but on plants in the garden. This is my "lawn" today -- and each day the wind blows we have less and less topsoil. Of course having two dogs doesn't help. They frolic up and down and disturb the dirt, so that we have great clouds of dust that drift around the backyard, and growing piles of dirt on the paths.

I contemplate building a swale -- the ground seems to have sculptured itself into that shape -- but again I need the ability to water any grass I plant in the first place. I suppose the time is coming where we're all going to move away from lawns as they have in some of the more arid cities in the US and elsewhere. Scoria was big in my old street; I hate scoria.

I think, though, that the biggest sign of drought is our change in attitudes. We used to talk about "when the drought breaks" -- these days we're less hopeful, more resigned to the lack of rain as a permanent symptom of global warming. These days we have to think about more inventive ways with our gardens.

Chilling Out

Well, the prodigal daughter is back from Vietnam and is she ever the slumberchick (reminds me of why I called her Princess Sleepyhead in the first place). She's been toddling off to bed around 11ish, and getting up at 3.30 pm. Now, of the remaining 7 1/2 hours of the day, approx two of these will be spend in ablutions. I love chilling out as much as the next person, but I need some kind of life as well, some kind of activity. I think as a teenager, I liked to sleep in too -- till around 1, but then I was up till after midnight, establishing bad sleeping patterns early.

I was the kid who started the big assignment at 11 pm the night before it was due, and pulled not quite an all-nighter, but close. I always got it done on time though. She's the kid who misses deadlines. I get stressed about this. She doesn't. (I used to get stressed about having left the assignment till the last minute as well, but obviously not enough to reform my ways.) I point out that her grades would be higher if she didn't lose marks for lateness; she's circumspect. At least she's trying in class. I have that.

Soon, the school hols will be over, and we'll be struggling to re-establish some sort of normalcy in her routine, but in the meantime I'm just going with the flow. Her sleeping time gives me writing time. It's less time she's fighting with her brother -- though this often means more time when he's claiming my attention. I suppose you can't win them all, but then when they're both fighting, and I end up feeling like I can't win any of them. My husband says I should be fighting to get her out of bed earlier, but then I'm stressed (because she's not very cooperative), and she's grouchy. Actually, "grouchy" is putting it politely. So, I'm content to just chill out, even if it's frustrating at times and means we don't get to do some of the things I've planned to do. Still, that means it's cheaper too! Sometimes you can win them all.

New Year

I'm not really one for making New Year's Resolutions -- I do it sometimes because I feel it's expected, but I don't really go into it with any great fervour. It's not the way I work. I suppose I know what I should be doing -- I carry those things with me in my head and mull over them, but committing them to paper doesn't make me take them any more seriously.

The things that preoccupy me at the moment are all to do with getting my life under more control. I had a busy year at work last year -- a too-busy year, and in many ways a difficult year (and in some a rewarding year, so it wasn't all negative -- most of it, in fact, wasn't negative). Consequently, I let the reins of control slip, and did that horse ever get the bit between its teeth and bolt. So this year I have to focus on getting more balance. On having more fun -- because isn't that what it's all about. (Mind you, I do have fun in most of the things I do. Fun, I think, is a matter of attitude, a matter of having a smile upon your face and making do with whatever you have.)

My sleep patterns continue to get more and more out of whack, and that's perhaps the most pressing problem. It's so easy to stay up and enjoy the few hours of peace when everyone else is asleep -- if I'm lucky enough to get a few. Perhaps that's the problem -- the kids, jealous of my time, stay up later and later, and I struggle to find time away from them. And I am categorically not a morning person. I do not, under any circumstances, function well then. Anytime before 7, I cannot drive. Not safely. Well, unless I stay up all night and don't go to bed, but even that I'm wary of. (If I fell into that pattern, I'd probably dispense with sleep altogether, and what a disaster that would be.) Before 7, the brain is clogged, and the eyes sting. My body aches and longs to be horizontal. Before 7, I am best in bed, snoozing if not actually sleeping. Dreaming/day-dreaming a writer's dreams. It's important to allow time for that too.

There are other aspects that have also slipped and that I'm feeling keenly -- the state of disarray around me, exercise habits, writing habits, but these are all things I hope to address -- no, mean to address. And there's no time like the present. Today, I've taken control of my blogging, which I've been lackadaisical about lately at best. Gradually, I'll pull this control-beast in, and get myself to a better place.

She's back!

And then it was over! And for her it all now seems like a dream. I know what that's like. Sometimes it's hard to imagine that there are all these worlds out there, and us not a part of any of them, but every one just as real as the one we're existing in, whether it's the vast savannahs of Africa, the turquoise waters of the Greek isles baking in the sun, or the cluttered chaotic streets of Jerusalem.

It's over, and she's missed The Gadget Man's family Christmas -- which for the first time ever they moved from Boxing Day (to the day before she came back). How unfortunate -- especially as this was the one year where she would be bursting with things to tell them. I can't tell you about the maternal outrage this roused in me -- a most interesting thing in itself, as I'm not particularly given to maternal outrage.

But it is lovely to have her back: the excited girl who has been dying to tell us how she ate dog and snake's head, but who stood (sadly for me to witness) somewhat aloof from the other girls, not quite fitting in, as is usual for her. It leaves me to wonder how we managed to have two children who are both outside the box. I know this should be a good thing -- what's wrong with raising individuals, after all? But it is hard when you see all the other kids with invites and not your kid, and it happens again and again and again. Still, I was never the most popular in class either. I had a few friends who were intensely loyal, and that was enough.

She has the prospect of starting at a new school next year, but that must all be the stuff of another post. In the meantime, let me dwell for a moment on just how wonderful it's been to have her back. Let me have that moment, for no doubt in a few more, she'll be fighting with her brother again, and I'll be left wondering what happened to the peace of the last four weeks and longing for that peace again.

Lack of communication

Now the funny thing about travel in the modern world (compared to when I travelled some twenty-five years ago) is the availability of email. When I went away it was a few addresses on your itinerary where you would hopefully wait for mail (and get it if you were lucky), or otherwise a post restante address. I do remember searching the V to W box at The Walkabout Club in London on the hunt for mail, and missing opportunities because my Dutch aunt wrote my name in such a way that my post was filed under D rather than V, and I only found my letters accidentally several months later when looking for mail for a friend of mine.

I wouldn't necessarily have expected any communications between Princess Sleepyhead and home because she's not that computer savvy and hardly ever uses email at home. But when we did have a few communications and knew that whenever she was going to be in Hanoi (which they're using as a home base) that she would have access, I became more hopeful. Only they've been told not to communicate, not to tell us anything about what they're doing until they're back.

Now, I understand this directive. The world can, at times now, seem too small a place, and not having communications adds to that sense of isolation, that sense of distance, of being in the wilderness, if you will, of being independent. But someone I teach with also has a daughter on one of these expeditions, and her daughter has been told the same things, but is emailing regardless. Oh, if only mine were as rebellious. Not often I'm wishing that from her.

I ought to have known. A few years ago, we were in Sydney and running late for a lunch appointment, prior to seeing Fiddler on the roof. So, there was my brother, crossing a deserted road on a red light, and me and his wife following, and PS standing resolutely on the kerb, unwilling to budge from it until the little man turned green. Neither my brother's entreaties nor his threats could make her move, and he was pulling his hair out with frustration. I had to admit is was funny to see him lose his temper, but even funnier to see her unmoved by it.

I should be glad she is not easy to persuade to break rules -- after all, ADD kids have a high rate of unwanted teenage pregnancy, and for many years this was The Gadget Man's fear for her. Now I see she is too much cast in my mould: too reserved and risk-averse (though she hasn't been risk-averse in physical situations that may have benefitted her to have been risk-averse -- but so far she has been lucky). So I shouldn't be cranky about not hearing. I really shouldn't. But I am. Well, not so much cranky, as frustrated. Just like my brother, really. 

Astronomy

How cool is this? Tonight (yesterday as I write this) we had a sliver (crescent) moon and two planets in close proximity: Venus and Jupiter, giving the appearance of a smiley face in the sky. Here's some photos I took on my new camera -- without a tripod. I do have a very old and slightly wonky tripod somewhere, but I'm not sure where it was. Image stabilisation helped me handhold (with the help of a post) with a 1.6 second shutter speed. These aren't perfect shots by any means but for handheld, they're pretty amazing. So we have the regular shot showing the smiley face, the close up, where you can see the moon's disc (and a ghost of it -- some kind of interference), and then one with a reflection, though it's too dark to see the water.