Oh happy day

When we first moved here I rated the beach closest to where we were staying 10 out of 10.  It had everything I love in a scenic beachy spot. Then for a sad while it dropped down to 9 out of 10.  It was still my favourite beach but something vital was missing: a cafe.

The odd thing is that, apart from around Mandurah's inner city inlet area, that left only one near-beach cafe on the whole of Mandurah's 52km coastline (and that cafe is part of a chain, serves dreadful coffee, employs staff who roll their eyes when allergies are mentioned, has acoustics like the inside of a rubbish tin and therefore doesn't really do it for me.)

Today was a stunningly beautiful day and I took the ever-so-slightly longer but far more scenic route back to my office from a morning meeting so I could catch a wee drive-by glimpse of the glistening ocean at my favourite beach.  Then oh joy, I discovered that the Falcon Bay Cafe is open for business again!

I guessed from having spoken to the previous owners that it wouldn't be them now running the new incarnation of the cafe.  I loved that cafe from their excellent coffee, to the way they cheerfully answered my queries about what I should order for Peanut-Anaphylaxis-Boy, to their delicious yet affordable food to the way you felt welcome whether you were buying four meals or an iceblock. 

So it was with some trepidation that I swerved to a stop and scooted across the road to investigate. 

No need to be worried.  Not only was my coffee excellent but all the cakes in the cabinet even had allergen labels.  Oh joy, oh happy happy day.  Welcome back, Falcon Bay Cafe.  I can't wait to investigate further. Looks like my favourite beach is back to being a 10 out of 10 again.

Indian Ocean Drive

On our most recent short holiday we explored north of Perth for the first time.  The Indian Ocean Drive opened a couple of years ago providing easier access to a series of small coastal holiday towns, scenic reserves and tourist attractions.  We only did the closest half of the drive because we wanted to actually stop and look at things and have a relaxing time; we have been here long enough to learn that WA is huge and it is easy to drive a long, long way and find very little.  So I did a lot of planning before this trip and as a result had lots of hits and only a couple of misses. Here in lots of pictures and a few words is that trip.

The Pinnacles Desert.  Surreal, bizarre and well worth a trip. Easy to get to and really well managed by the Department of Environment and Conservation.

We stayed at Jurien Bay which is quaint and relaxing and it reminded me of the town in that old TV show Seachange.

We did lots of short walks and a few longer ones but sadly we saw more wildlife on signs and squished on the side of the road than in real life.

We then drove inland via New Norcia but I'm not sure I'd recommend that if, like us, you are a carload of tired, hungry atheists.  Sometimes I find myself thinking "Is that it?" and this leg of the trip was one of those times.

Next stop for three nights was Guilderton, where the Moore River very, very nearly meets the sea.  Lovely, sleepy, make-your-own-fun holiday village.  Just be careful where you stay.  I made an online booking for 3 nights in a holiday cottage which turned out to be the grottiest, filthiest dump I have ever set foot in.  After one grim night there we then wasted a day of our holiday switching to a habitable house.

The Gravity Discovery Centre near Gingin.  For sciencey children and their parents this is an excellent place for a grand day out.

We made our way slowly home stopping for a leisurely visit to the wonderful Yanchep National Park.

On this trip we went right through famous wildflower country but were just a bit early in the season to see much floral action. Never mind, I thought.  Next time, when we explore the other half of the Indian Ocean Drive. But as we drove into our driveway we discovered that in the week we'd been away, the first of our own wildflowers had burst into bloom.

The Ugly

Soon after we moved here I noticed something perplexing about many of the cars and posted one of the many pictures I've collected on a theme.  Here it is again.

I often see that car parked outside the local swimming pool when the owner's children and mine have lessons. I don't understand her car decoration.

Since then I've collected quite a few more snaps on the theme of "car adornments I don't understand."  It wasn't hard.  I'll spare you all the ones that simply have a creepy personalised number plate.  I'll also spare you ones with that Australia-shaped sticker and the words "F**k off we're full" because they are far too common to longer be interesting, but here is a variation on that theme.

Here is another mystery.

Most of you will be familiar with all the many variations on the "My family" stickers.  Not my cup of tea but it doesn't bother me that other people like and use them.  Just in case you don't know what I mean, here is one of the longer ones I've seen.

And a variation spotted in Mandurah.  Hmmm. Charming.

But there is one thing that still shocks me eveytime I see it.  Please tell me these aren't doing the rounds in NZ too.  Here, on a car with two childseats in the back which was parked at a local scenic spot where a group of families were having a picnic, were....car nuts.

Couldn't see them properly?  Here are some more.  Common as, well, balls around here.

Must go now as all that ugliness has depressed me. The only fun part of this whole situation is when we spot a car with a creepy personalised numberplate, at least one cringy sticker and car nuts.  Then I yell "Jackpot!" and instruct my partner to keep up with it so that I can get a photo.  No luck so far though because to those people "50 km per hour" means "65", "80" means "110" and "110" seems to mean "Just go as fast as you jollywell like".

My year of Nowhere Near Enough Reading

2012 in Australia has been dubbed the National Year of Reading where libraries, bookshops, many other organisations are linking together all the great things already happening around reading and literacy plus creating new events and activities designed to help people discover or rediscover the joy of reading. (Info here if you are interested.)

For me however, this year has rather ironically become a "Year of Nowhere Near Enough Reading". Those of you who warned me that the part-time job I started late last year sounded like "three full-time people's jobs" and that "part-time and project rarely play nicely together" can go mwah-ha-ha here because oh were you right. While I have been busy creating reading events, endlessly talking to parents about the importance of reading to young children, doing many hours of reading aloud in odd places all over the city, carting hundreds of books then releasing them into the wild and reading huge piles of work-related things, my opportunities for actually reading what I want for my own enjoyment have shrunk to drought levels not seen since new-baby-in-house days. I love reading so this is a pretty frustrating situation.

Working has also meant that between my children's various hospital appointments (all up in Perth, a whole day with one child last week, a whole day with the other one this week, all good news) and after school and weekend activities, I now spend very few hours home alone. Since I wrote that last post I have clocked up so few home alone hours that I can count them on my fingers and all since I ticked this off my work To-Do list. I love home-alone time so this too is a somewhat frustrating situation.

Sadly today's five hours home alone were spent dealing with a foot high pile of paperwork - and I am not exaggerating. I'll spare you the gruesome details but life in WA involves a lot of red tape, paperwork and administrivia. So no interesting pictures from today's dull day but last week I did snap away as I hurried through my chores - with the reward of some reading time dangling at the end of my foot-long To-Do list.

First up were four loads of laundry as it was our first sunny day in weeks. On the way to the line I stopped to admire our latest slime moulds.

Then I cooked dinner because that afternoon = swim squad = arriving home with two cold, wet and starving children at 6.30pm. Next job was dealing with those amazing gift lemons and no that isn't trick photography. Lemon Cake in the oven, zest and juice in the freezer then back out to the vegetable patch to deal with an invasion of caterpillars.

Every fortnight a new creature invades our house or garden or both in plague proportions: pantry moths, red ants, Portuguese millipedes, black ants, garden snails, orange ants, redback spiders, Italian snails and for six months of the year we also have  mosquitoes. At the moment hundreds of white cedar moth caterpillars swarm over the fence every day from our neighbour's denuded trees to feast in my veggie garden. I rehomed them. To heaven.

Next up was chipping away at the latest pile of free mulch to arrive on our front verge.

Between barrow loads I stopped to admire the spring-has-sprunginess of our garden.

Took the cake out of the oven, did the dishes, planted out some seedlings, converted another patch of ex-lawn space to veggie garden, buried the contents of our two bokashi bins in the garden, made a coffee and replied to some emails ("so lovely to hear from you and so sorry it has taken me so long to reply..." x5 with many more still to do as some of you will be aware), paid a few bills online, logged in to my work email to deal with the things that just couldn't wait (part-time -ha!), bought a present online, brought in the evening's firewood and the four loads of laundry, fixed the two most urgent pieces of clothing from the mending mountain, found the "lost" swimming goggles, loaded a pile of "to the op shop" wares  into my car, put all the flat batteries on to recharge, destained an item of school uniform, found the paperwork for a child's required repeat prescription, phoned the Dunny Doctor (true) and made a shopping list. (Familiar day anyone?) Then I resisted the urge to fold Mt Cleanlaundry and instead..... grabbed another coffee and ten minutes of reading time before my son cycled up the driveway.

Tonight I spent the evening at the First Wednesday Book Club getting great book recommendations then brought home "fabulous", "beautiful" and "captivating" books to add to my now three foot high To-Read pile - and I am not exaggerating. But one of the great things about projects is that by their very nature they always come to an end; when the project I am working on ends I hope to then have the freedom to begin my very own Year of Reading.

A rare bird

Today I couldn't do what I had planned to do.  I went to work but soon after I got there my lovely workmates sent me home.  Go for a walk on the beach, they said. Smash something, they said.  Is there anything we can do, they said.

I went home and quietly made a casserole and put it in the oven at the lowest possible temperature.  I listened to a radio show and jotted down some book recommendations.  Then I went out into our garden and murdered a hedge:  the useless Oleander and Plumbago one I wrote about a while ago.  As I hacked and smashed at it I disturbed insects, spiders, and other tiny creatures and soon had unintentionally created a feeding frenzy amongst the regular avian visitors to my garden.  Ravens and Currawongs, Magpies and Peewees swooped and scratched and pecked and feasted.  Other regular visitors came and went and carried on their usual daily business around me. Wattlebirds and Honeyeaters. Galahs and Twentyeights.  Red-capped Parrots, Regent Parrots and  Elegant Parrots.  Wagtails and Silvereyes.  Butcherbirds. Our common, ordinary, everyday birds.

But today I wasn't thinking much about these birds.  Today all I could think about was a group of rare birds and how much I miss them and long for any of them to saunter into my garden.  My rare birds: my best women.  My sisters and sisters-in-law.  My mother and aunts and cousins.  My friends. Wise, clever and funny women.  Brave, hard-working and amazing women.  Good fun and bad influence women. Creative, talented and stylish women. Kind, thoughtful and caring women. Inspiring women. I thought about how incredibly lucky I am to know them and how much I'll enjoy seeing them all when we visit New Zealand at the end of the year.

But as I dug and lopped and barrowed and sawed, I thought most about one particular friend.  I thought about the day she and I met nearly two decades ago, way back in the simple days before houses, mortgages and children came into our lives, back to before our boyfriends became more.  I was alone at a fancypants function while my partner had swanned off to be important.  As I stood uncomfortably in a crowded room full of strangers wondering what to do next, a gorgeous elf of a woman with an enormous smile collected me up and swept me over to her group of friends, and promptly made me one of them. Today I thought about her wedding night.  I thought about sitting peacefully in a cabin in the bush in the early hours of the morning as I took my turn supervising  her guests' sleeping babies, then hearing peals of my friend's raucous laughter slice through the stillness as her new husband tried to serenade her. I thought about how on the last time my family visited her family, her cheeky husband pointed appreciatively at her backside as she stood at the kitchen bench making coffee, causing her to spin around and demand to know what was going on when we all burst out laughing.

I will never see this friend's enormous smile or hear her raucous laugh again. As I thought about her motherless children and her wifeless husband and all the other people who now have a Helena-shaped hole in their lives, I wiped tears from my cheeks with my filthy gardening gloves.  I thought about how life isn't fair, but I already knew that - few people are lucky enough to get to my age without learning that lesson.  Rest in peace wonderful, beautiful Helena. You were a rare bird indeed and I feel so privileged to have had you in my life.

The pictures in this post are of Carnaby's Cockatoos.  These big black birds are stunning and captivating but sadly also endangered.  Sometimes a big flock of them visits our garden creating excitement and mayhem and a mad dramatic cacophony in whatever tree they land in, but not today.

Big day in

This weekend followed a familiar pattern.  Often our weekends consist of one big day out then one big day in.  The big day in is usually spent gardening, catching up on household chores, reading and relaxing.  Big days out, well, more on them later.

This weekend's big day in was an especially satisfying one as it meant that all the books that have languished in our shed for the nine months since we moved in here could finally come into the house.  I have been hunting for some shelves for months and was about to admit defeat, head to Ikea and join the other 60 million Billy bookcase owners.  For various reasons, I find shopping in Mandurah often tricky and usually unsuccessful.

Anyway, what Mandurah lacks in other ways, it makes up for in op shops.  There are loads of them and they aren't the over-curated, over-priced and picked-over disappointments you find in the big cities.  These are your basic hit-and-miss, sometimes crusty, sometimes fabulous old-school op shops.  And the joy of living in a place where few people seem to share my taste is that when something I love turns up in an op shop it just ... sits there.

So it was with the great big mid-century design classic Ladderax shelving system I snapped up from a local op shop this week.  Way back here I wrote about how I dreamt of finding one of those, never really believing that I would.  But as "our Rach" would say, "It didn't happen overnight, but it did happen".

After setting them up and rearranging the library/study/Lego Pit/living room, we now have a different assortment of things in the big shed that we no longer have room for in the house: mid-century vases, Betsy my beloved cowhide orange slice chair, a Fler lounge suite, various small bookcases, quite a few books and perhaps even seven Tretchikoff prints - most of which I originally picked up at op shops. 

Looks like I may need to spend my next big day in having a garage sale.

Fungi foray

Eventually the rain did stop and the sun came out.  We escaped from the great indoors and went for a walk in the great outdoors.  Here is what we saw.

Yes, it it fungi-time, or more accurately, fungi-fruiting-bodies-time.  Some were familiar and many were not.

A few showed evidence of having been nibbled on by the creatures we call "fancy rats", that is the weird and wonderful small mammals of Southwestern WA.

Everywhere we looked there were more.  I quite enjoy sorting my stinkhorns from my earthstars, or baskets from boletes, but this day I was well out of my depth so just enjoyed looking. 

My favourite one of the day wasn't on the ground but far above our heads.  That Pored Fungi was the size of a large dinner plate and the loveliest creamy yellow.

The greatest excitement of all though was in our own backyard.  I guess you can't expect to dump three truckloads of wood chips on the lawn without getting some serious fungal activity, but every day there seems to be some new thing erupting from the mulch.  Many of the fruiting bodies in our garden also show signs of being eaten which I hope means that our quenda is still in residence, even though I haven't seen it for a while.  I do see its odd little diggings in the soil often though.

Yesterday morning I went out into the backyard to do a spot of digging myself and spotted something repulsively fascinating.  It looked like someone had spent a tough night on the turps, then indulged in a dodgy curry, then left us a present.

This time I did go rushing for my fungi books and to various websites.  What we have is a slime mould.  They aren't actually fungi anymore; they got kicked out of the fungi kingdom!  My description wasn't too far off the mark as there is even a slime mould called a dog vomit slime mould.  Nice.  The wonders of the natural world never cease to amaze and amuse me.

If you enjoy a spot of fungi spotting then I can highly recommend Mandurah's Marlee Reserve.  Or come for a cup of tea at my house.