Small stone, Wednesday 23rd January.

I had a serious case of dysania this morning and it was 8.29 precisely before I opened my eyes. Outside, crepuscular rays were shining (okay I made that up just so I could use the word). It was actually grey, and smelt petrichor (this is true). My stomach was wambling. So was Georgia's, I could hear it. Poor thing has been eating pap since chucking up 4 times the night before last. Yawning, still suffering from obdormition, I dragged my body and polka-dotted face out of bed to make my doggy brekkie.




I'm blaming this Small Stone on an article I read (decades ago) describing flowers as sex organs, and my nutrition lecturer at college for calling milk the pus of cow. Some things you never forget. All definitions of curious words in this post >>> HERE. More fun ones >>> HERE. Care to comment using some? :D

Excerpt from 2nd link:

"A friend reports that he was in a Boston taxi last week, and because he'd heard about all the great seafood available in the area, he asked the cabbie, "Say, where can I get scrod around here?"  

The cabbie laughed and said, "I've been asked that question a thousand times, but never in the pluperfect subjunctive."

What is scrod? A young fish (as a cod or haddock); especially : one split and boned for cooking

 I hope you liked that! A last check to see all my tittles are in place before tapping PUBLISH!




To find out more about Small Stones and the 30 day mindful writing challenge, CLICK HERE.

How to use water like a Rwandan.

Cushion just spoke to my brother in Brisbane. Apparently, the water board called to inform him that his weekly water consumption had jumped from 80 litres to 400. Did he have a leak, by any chance?

No, dear Mr Water Board Man. It was just Cushion, Georgia and me on holiday.

My brother is a frugal water user. He has a rainwater tank as well but 80 litres is pretty much the amount of piped town water than he uses in a week. I'm sure it's a meagre number, even for a 1 person household. 

Chart from HERE.
In fact, based on this chart, my brother uses just a little more water per day than the average Rwandan.

In our defence, we did a lot of cooking, cleaning and laundry in the 10 days we were with him. Not to mention, 1 laundry load for Georgia, 2 baths after swimming at muddy Nudgee, and a tub of water for cooling down after walks.

Dogs can and do account for a lot of water usage.

Ideally, Georgia would get a bath no more than once a fortnight. Unfortunately, she has dermatitis and allergies, so we end up hosing her down after almost every walk. Add that to her over-active anal glands, swims in muddy water and predilection for rolling on dead things, and she's actually likely to have a bath every week.

Our water bill went down immediately after Rufus died. He was a giant dog with a lot of fur, and was both #1 and #2 incontinent towards the end. I did a lot of cleaning after him. Soiled sheets, towels, floor, butt. 

It's amazing how quickly it all added up.

Doing laundry, the Uncle E method.

I'm not sure why my brother tops up his washing machine this way, maybe to make sure it's just enough water to cover the clothes?

Rinsing is done with rainwater from his tank. I'm afraid that tank got quite depleted during our stay. 

Grey water from the wash then gives his yard a good soaking. No lawn there! Lots of unswept leaf litter and mulching.

Notice how dirty Georgia's tub of cooling-off water is? It turned brown within a day from all the flower and leaf litter but I wasn't allowed to change it. I did suggest it, but backed off after a truly menacing glare from my brother. Instead, every morning, I used a little sieve to remove the litter and dead insects. Voila! Worked just as well. Lesson learned.

We learnt a great way to save water from my frugal brother! which thrills my frugal husband! because he's been ranting about my water wasting ways for years. Danger! You are now entering a smug zone!

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Mellow yellow. I hope you know what this means because I do not want to go into details. Cushion reckons the flush is one of the biggest water wasters, despite the fact that we have half-flush toilets. So now, we follow the mellow yellow rule. My only proviso...last person to go to bed must flush. I draw the line at funky smells first thing in the morning.

And here are a few other water saving ideas we've been working on -
. We changed all our tap heads from twist to flick. 

I still prefer this look but... 


Pic from HERE.

...I've never regretted changing over.

We did this a few years back. I think it was a great investment. However soapy, bloody or oily my hands are, I can turn the taps on and off with a nudge. I'm now so used to washing without running water, when I heard water gushing from a bathroom tap on telly a few days ago [I think it was an episode of Homeland Season 1], I had a major cringe.

. We turn the tap off when soaping or shampooing in the shower, and turn it back on to rinse. Easier in summer than winter, no doubt.

. We never turn a tap on full. Because. it's. not. necessary! Unless you have a stubborn booger stuck in the basin.

. The floor gets mopped only when it looks like it needs it, instead of 2 times a week. [My personal favourite.]

. The car gets washed only when it's cocooned with cobwebs, the bird poop on the bonnet has solidified or the neighbours are looking at us funny.

. I don't water the garden every day, but I give it a good soaking when I do. There are water restrictions in place in many parts of Australia. Here in Sydney, we're not allowed sprinklers, trigger nozzles are a must, and watering has to be done before 10 or after 4. 

Georgia's stale drinking water, leftover bath water, and water from rinsing fruit, vegies or rice also gets tossed into the flower pots. My nanny used to pour water from cleaning fish into the garden beds. It stank, as you can imagine, but it must have been good for the plants because that garden was lush!

Learning how to save water is a work-in-progress for me. I've discovered it can be both a challenge and fun, and I can't wait to see our next water bill and usage figures!

Do you have any other water saving ideas to share? 

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We looked into getting a water tank some years back, but there's not enough space in our little courtyard. 

"Are you sure, Typist? They come in all shapes and sizes, y'know."

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And if only we could put in a composting toilet, like this one at our little cabin in the Byron hinterland. 

The picture right at the top of this post, is the bucket of wood shavings that was sitting next to the loo. However frightening this sounds, I can assure you there was zero smell emanating from this toilet. ZERO! And I have a pretty good snout.

What do you think goes into the wheelie bin below the toilet? 

The hose is the venting system. The PET bottle is  for drawing bugs to the light, which can then be released, if you're so inclined. 

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While we're at it, some reading... 
. Water restrictions in Australia.

. Sydney Water's Water Wise Rules.

. A mighty interesting Challenge.
Excerpt: "...Americans consume an average of 575 liters of water a day, while many Rwandans, who have to walk miles to collect their water, only consume 10."

. A post from Kirsten that I've wanted to share since reading. Not exactly about water, but definitely in the ball park. She's inspiring.

. And lastly, a post from a lady whose entire annual household budget for clothing is $100. Clearly, I have a lot to learn about living a frugal life.

A bush walk and Smurf's house.

This is the little cabin where we stayed on Tuesday and Wednesday night. 

It was very restful there and apart from the hum screech chatter of cicadas crickets birds mozzies and the 1000 froggies in the pond down the slope, it was super quiet.

I wish we could have stayed longer.

For some reason, since we were in the middle of nowhere, Cushion thought he could just open the door and say, "Go on, Georgia, go walk. Go toilet!" But of course, I wasn't silly and didn't wander too far on my own. I remembered what Ms Jean said and I didn't want to get lost. 

Besides, there were scary animals outside. 

You can laugh but these brush turkeys had beaks.

"You in the tree!"

"Stop staring at me, please."

We found a lovely bush trail nearby.

Can anyone tell us what these plants below are? 

They looked similar to pawpaw trees and were about the same height as well, but the fruit were smaller. No one was game to try them. It was too beautiful a day to get crook.

Suddenly! we saw this shack up ahead! 

 It was the cutest thing ever! I couldn't resist being a sticky beak exploring it as any curious dog would.

The manure was very tasty! 

I would have eaten a whole lot more if The Typist hadn't started screaming.

We thought this could be a nursery, the place where the humans who owned our cabin grew their vegetables, herbs and fruit.

 My favourite fruit in all the world wasn't ripe yet, which was unfortunate. 

[Not that I would have stolen it or anything.]

We really liked this little shack! I could see my humans getting starry-eyed. My guess is they probably saw themselves living like this, in the middle of nowhere, growing their own stuff and living off the land and rainwater.

BWAH haha!

It didn't take them long to realise there were mozzies biting them, it was very hot, there was no airconditioning, probably no cable telly either, oh! how about flush toilets? and it was a bit far from any decent looking patisserie.

This did not look like a Nespresso machine.

Anyway, after snooping wandering around for a good 10 minutes, it was time to go back to our cabin. Which is, of course, where I dramatically collapsed and was rescued from death's door by being unceremoniously splashed with 7 pots of cold water. Yes, Ms Rose, I think it was 7.

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On the way back to the cabin, we met a man who told us a dwarf named Smurf lived at the shack.

A. dwarf. named. Smurf.

My goodness! How I wish we'd met him! My humans were quite mortified that they had so rudely trampled all over his little house. 

I wonder if Smurf was inside the whole time, keeping very quiet and wondering how on earth his hideaway had become a tourist attraction. 

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Here's a special treat for you! It was a bit hard to capture and is quite soft, so please turn up the volume. I hope you like it!

Any guesses what it might be?

2nd of January, 7.30pm.

We shared a lunchtime table with 3 residents of Nimbin today.

The first was an older woman, lean, brown, with long grey blonde hair and dark bright eyes. On each of her wrinkled cheeks was a fading tattoo of a crescent moon and star. She was dressed in the uniform of a hippie from the 60s, flowing robes, beads and bracelets on each wrist. Incongruously, she was nursing an iced coffee with a blob of ice cream floating in it. She'd lived in Nimbin for more than 20 years.

The second was a younger dark haired woman, just as brown, just as wiry, a little less hippie, a little more perky. She didn't say how long she'd lived in the area but I'd guess not as long as the other 2.

The third was an older man with pale blue eyes and a bushy reddish blonde beard streaked with bright orange. On his head was a green fedora with a chunky silver flower brooch pinned on it. His face was pale, with patches of rosacea and flaky skin. He'd lived in Nimbin for over 40 years.

We talked about change, benevolent dictators, the benefits of hemp, the importance of food to the Chinese, the awful disparity between poor and rich, the pros and cons of having tourists in the area, young ladies in bikinis sitting on bombs, feisty South Korean parliamentary sessions, the problem with religion, the age of mankind, and where to get baby socks for Georgia's sore feet. We talked like there was no tomorrow, not stopping long enough for uncomfortable silences to appear.

After lunch we said, "Goodbye."

"Thank you for sharing your table."

"Thank you for the conversation."

We never introduced ourselves and didn't take a picture. 

The world is full of friends we haven't yet met, and likely never will again.

Charity.

This is the intersection at the Queen Victoria Building, probably the biggest and busiest in the Sydney CBD. Tourists love to take pictures of the throng crossing. The little green man doesn't stay green too long and if you're old, infirm or have stinky knees like me, it's a bit of a mad rush to get across.

I wait patiently here 3 times a week, on my way to capoeira class.

The week before last, as I stood at the kerb, an unsmiling young man started weaving in and out among the bodies. He was shaking a little white bucket, muttering as he passed by, "Some money, sir? Madam?" He was moving too fast for me to make out the name of the charity he was collecting for, or the name on the tag around his neck.

I saw him do this for 3 evenings. I didn't once see anyone drop money in his bucket. I didn't either. 

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At Christmas time, requests to be charitable can be overwhelming. I find myself looking into the distance when I see volunteers approaching with their big smiles and cheery g'days. I shake my head. I indicate with my arms that I'm in a hurry and can't stop. I say, "No thank you." with a smile, and breeze on by. Sad to admit, I don't even want to know what charity they're collecting for.

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A few days ago, I finally saw someone put money in the man's bucket. A young girl. She put in a few coins. I could hear them dropping in. She was on my right a few bodies away and as I looked over, I could see she was rummaging around in her bag, looking for more loose change. I heard her say, "I'm sorry, that's all the coins I have." 

Surprising me, the man replied, "That's okay. You've given enough."

Then he must have given her something in return. I didn't see what it was because just then, the little green man popped up.

As I walked away, I heard the young girl say, "Thank you sir." Then again, shouting out a little as she must also have started crossing the road herself, "Thank you sir!" 

There was just something about that exchange that made me feel ashamed, and I can't stop thinking about it.

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All these pictures were taken yesterday and today in the vicinity of the same intersection.

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A short love letter to my doggy.

X

Even though you bark at me when I come home.

And only follow me when I have a banana in my hand. 

Even though you ignore me all day until it's dinnertime.

And would rather sleep on the floor with Cushion than on the couch with me.

Even though you do terrible things to my self-esteem from which I will probably never EVER recover.

I love you Georgia Little Pea!

X

 

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Oi!

Could you please stop laughing? That's mean.