Psycho night.

We're in a motel that used to be a hospital. It still smells like one. The only people we've seen, since checking in more than 6 hours ago, are the owners, and the cleaning lady who's working late. They were full over the weekend she says, but I think we may be the only earthly souls here tonight.

We had leftover curry for dinner in the kitchen.

Followed by a slice of homemade pie from under that cloche in the picture. No one else dropped by.

While we were eating, I saw an old lady walk into one of the rooms. Cushion didn't and there's been no sound or sight of her since. I'm sure I saw her. She must just be very quiet.

It's not even 8pm.

David Bowie is playing. Before him, Dean Martin.

Down the corridor, I can hear the telly in our room and Cushion coughing. From somewhere further away, a tumble dryer. There is no other sound.

I'm typing on this couch.

Wondering about the people who used to stay in these rooms and shuffle along these hallways.

 I don't want to use the D word, but I'm thinking it. 

Even the cat on the wall looks nervous.

Thoughts from Mount Doom.

Day 9 of the road trip. (3 days ago.)


"Are you sure you want to do this? I have 2 good knees and they were both in pain by the time I got down," Miki, one of the owners of the lodge where we were staying, said to me. "Some parts can be very steep and there'll be a lot of steps both going up and down. Think about it," she advised.

The shuttle bus driver who dropped us off at the start point of the Crossing was less diplomatic. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, loud enough for the whole busload of strapping teenage backpackers to hear. I couldn't decide if he was being serious. I had just told him that I'd had 2 knee surgeries and we might be a little behind schedule getting down from the mountain. Would he please wait for us if we weren't back by 4? I felt my ears go hot. I was going to be the stupid old lady holding everyone up today. Sadly, no witty retort came to mind and I was suddenly filled with doubt.

Write ups on the Tongariro Alpine Crossing describe it as a one day walk, requiring anywhere between 6 to 8 hours of steady walking. It ascends for about 800 metres, descends about 1200 metres and the highest point of the crossing is 1886 metres at Red Crater. 

We were told though, that the Crossing could be done by a fit person, without stops, in 5 to 6 hours. In the end, it took us oldies just over 7. We got to the pickup point at 3.15, hurrah for us. 

The slow pace was probably my fault. Despite my 10 years of hard core (haha) capoeira training, I had to stop often to gasp for air, still my pounding heart and ask myself what I was doing there. (To be fair to me, I was also in charge of taking pictures and there was no shortage of things to shoot.) I'm sure the ever-competitive Cushion could have completed the Crossing in less time on his own, and he'll be pleased I mentioned this.

While on the bus returning to the lodge, I read the pamphlet that Miki had passed me about the Crossing, and learnt that her husband Callum holds the world record for completing the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. He ran it, in 1 hour and 25 minutes. The mind boggles. This record was set a long time ago, around 2000, 2001. No one has yet broken it. According to his website, the youngest person to have made the Crossing was 5. The oldest, 94.

Am I glad I didn't chicken out.

This crappy picture was taken on my iPhone. I will upload pictures from the camera when we get home. If you want to see more of Mordor, stay tuned!

Remember! You don't have to comment on these posts from the road! Almost 2 weeks down, 2 more to go. In Wellington now. Very pretty, too cold.

Postcard from Camp Could Be Nice.

deer Typis,

 mr O is helpin g me send you this pikture.   As you can see, i am ok.

  it is getting COLD. Tank goodness for my coat! 

Love, Georgia X

p.s. Too bad about yur Troubels  Sorry i haf NO time to chat. I have made frends.!!

Note from The Typist.

Apparently, I used up my all data allowance for the month in 8 days because I googled a few maps, made one post and visited some blogs. Hopefully I'll be able to top up soon, but it means I won't be able to read and comment on your blogs while I'm on the road. My apologies.

To be fair, don't worry about commenting on these posts from the road either. I'll just pretend I'm back in the old days, when we sent snail mail postcards on holidays and never expected to get a reply :)

Catch up with you when we get home. Till then, hope you're all well! X

Rainy day rambling.

With nothing but rain and dropping temperatures predicted for the rest of the week, my mind has turned to mush and memories.

My mother used to say an idle mind is a devil's workshop. She loved her proverbs. I remember being quite insulted when she said it to me. ¿Por qué mí?  I was an active and fairly industrious child. Maybe she was just being menopausal and disagreeable, as I am now. Age gives you perspective.

Today, my idle mind is wondering what excellent stuff I could be doing if only I was 18 again [not that I would ever want to be 18 again].

This is definitely on the shortlist.

This pic from HERE.

Apparently, you can also do it a little higher off the ground.

This pic from HERE.

I first saw it in Rio, in Ipanaema I think. 

I had no idea what it was called and I have no idea why I didn't ask. Too shy I guess. So it was almost 1 and a 1/2 years later, on my flight home from Brisbane 3 weeks ago that I found out. It's called slacklining. It was featured in the inflight magazine and you can read about it HERE.

Further down the beach, on that rather grey day, other boys were...

...learning to surf? Maybe there's a name for this fun activity as well and I just haven't learnt what it is yet.

But the #1 thing I would like to do if I was 18 again has to be this!

This and more cool shots from HERE.

It would almost be worth it going through uni, acne and unrequited love again, just to have the bone strength, agility and stupidity fearlessness required to learn parkour. You can read about this art of displacement HERE. 

Or better still, watch it here!

I can't watch parkour without a serious case of envy. Do you think their mothers worry?

And finally...perhaps some of you have already met this fella?

Somehow, I don't think it'd be too easy keeping him in the backyard.


Do you have anything you wish you could learn or do, but feel the time is past?





Oops. Did I forget to mention aerial silk?

This pic from tumblr.

Conversation with a man and a dog left at home alone.

I think the man is panicking. He spent 3 hours cleaning the car, day before yesterday. Another 3 vacuuming and mopping the house yesterday (and didn't even get to the bathrooms). There's no way our little house takes 3 hours to vacuum and mop. 

"Is this the first time you're cleaning the house since I left?" Silence. "Oh my god. It is, isn't it?" "I've been busy, babe!""Doing what?" "Oh, you know. I have to take Georgia out for her 2 walks every day, even in the rain. She won't let me rest. Yesterday I took her out to Callan, I had to bathe her when we got back because she got all muddy, then I had to cook her chicken, then I cleaned the car, then it was time to take her out for her evening walk. My back is killing me." "You should just have NOT taken her out in the evening." "I couldn't! She kept harassing me." "Can't you just ignore her?" "No, you know what she's like." But how did you take 3 hours to clean the house? It shouldn't have taken you more than 1 hour, including cleaning the bathrooms." "I don't do a cursory job, babe. It's VERY clean. I even vacuumed the cushions." "Why did you have to vacuum the cushions?" "Georgia got fur on them." "How?" "Oh, you know." " No I don't. She's only allowed on the chair when you're on it, so how did the cushions get so furry?" "It's okay, babe. They're clean now. Did you like the picture I emailed you?" "Yes. Why is Georgia riding in the front of the car? You know she's not allowed in the front seat." "It's okay. She was VERY good." "And what do you mean by, she wants my bed? Put the phone on speaker. I want to speak to her." 

"Georgia! Georgia! Hello. How are you girl? How are you sweetie?" "She's wagging her tail!" "Georgia! I'm coming home soon. Are you being a good girl? I miss you! Abajo, Georgia! Abajo! Is she lying down?" "No, she's sniffing the phone. Who's that, Georgia? Who's that, girl? She's wagging her tail!" "Good girl, Georgia! Is Cushion feeding you lots? Are you getting fat again? Don't forget her dewormers!"

"So what did you have for dinner last night?" Silence. "Poop, you had something completely nutritionless, didn't you? What? Instant noodles?" "No! No. I had canned pork. Don't feel bad for me! It was very delicious! I loved it, babe!" 




You're smashing it, babe!* 

Going home tomorrow. Not a moment too soon. 

*Thank you Ashlee and Sophia, for our new favourite phrase! MKR rules. 

*

Guess what I saw yesterday, while walking from the bus stop to the hospital? 

A man in his hospital bedclothes, in a wheelchair, hooked up to a drip, having a cigarette in the smokers' rotunda.

???

Thank you for all your well wishes! My brother is back in ICU, I won't go into the gory details but he's still fighting off the staph infection and a touch of pneumonia. Sister 2 arrives in an hour to take over from me. Sorry I haven't been visiting you the last few days! I promise to do so soon! X

Good morning!

Do you think I have enough antioxidants and fibre for the day?

That's a tablespoon in a very large bowl. Maybe there'll be enough good stuff there to blow away the beginnings of flu.

The mango is a new discovery. It's not everyone's favourite Kensington Pride and the fruit shop man strangely didn't know what it's called. It's a bit fibrous, but the flesh is dripping with juice and it's even sweeter than a KP!

The pink guava and figs are fresh plucked from my brother's garden. After reading how nutritious guava is (and apparently good for losing weight),  I cut a third one into the bowl.

The man still isn't home yet. He's succumbed to a staph infection. I feel quite useless here now. I've done as much cooking and cleaning as I want to, and don't think I should go anywhere near an ICU with a sniffly nose. Let's hope the bowl of fruit does its job and doesn't just send me potty.

If only dogs could speak.

In my last post, I mentioned how Georgia is (apparently) missing me. Many of you thought that was to be expected. Well, I didn't expect it! Georgia is daddy's girl and usually does a good job of ignoring me. There are only 2 times in the day when I become the centre of her universe. 1. When it's time to eat. 2. When she's sick.

Number 2. surprises me. Considering how close she is to Cushion, you'd think he'd be the person to go to when she's feeling crook and needs someone to wipe her butt or vomit, or hold her paw as she goes up the treacherous garden steps in the dark of the night to do a chuck up or wet one. My theory is that Cushion has whispered in her ear that if she really truly loves him, she'll let him sleep and wake me up instead.

So yes, it was a surprise to me that (he thinks) she's missing me. This is why he thinks that -

On the first night I was away, she didn't follow him upstairs to bed as she normally does. After I don't know how long downstairs, she did go up to the bedroom. Cushion of course instantly invited her up to his bed for a cuddle. Normally, she would jump up (if you remember, I wrote a Small Stone about that). That night, she looked at him, looked at my empty bed, then went to her own bed in the corner and spent the night there.

Wow. I feel so loved.

Yesterday, fresh news came about how clever daddy's girl is at communicating.

It's been raining in Sydney. Cushion thought it was too wet to take Georgia out for her morning walk. She didn't complain and all was quiet and good for a while. Then, I'm told, missy went up to Cushion, put her paw on his lap, turned round to look at her butt, then back at him. In short, he believes she was telling him she needed to go out to do a poop. (So he did, deciding to drive to a less swampy park, and it stormed on them and she refused to get out of the car, but that's another story.)

I'm not making this up. I think Cushion might be though.

Do you think he got it right? That Georgia was trying to say what he thought she did? Do your dogs communicate in strange or funny ways?

It's been pissing down here nonstop for the last 43 hours. I could do with a laugh.


"If I could speak, Typist, I would be telling you in no uncertain terms that you're not feeding me enough. 40.6 kilos? Come on! What sort of a nutritionist are you? I should be 42 at least!"

(Sorry, using the only pictures of Georgia available to me on the iPad which happen to be ones taken over our Christmas holidays in Brissie. Georgia had a weigh-in at the vet's yesterday and has lost 3 kilos over the last 2 months. My fault of course. I'm sure it has nothing to do with her fish hook episode, scavenging and perennial bad tummy. Oh no. It's always the cook's fault.)

When the cat's away.

My brother has still not been discharged. A complication that he can't explain to me, or doesn't wish to. Nothing serious, and hopefully, he'll be home by Sunday or Monday. Thank you, everyone, for asking after him.

Meanwhile, I'm taking the opportunity to do a little cleaning and cooking. Like many people who live on their own, my brother is used to his mess and can get a bit huffy when he sees me scrubbing and tidying, so just as well he's not here.

I hope my brother doesn't notice I've shredded the cushion cover on his favourite easy chair. It was grubby! I had to chuck it in the machine! Needless to say, I'm never mentioning this post to him and, with any luck, he won't smell the fresh detergent fragrance now emanating from what's left of the cushion cover.

Jean, I'm doing my best to use water like a Rwandan (though I might have blown it by doing 3 laundry loads in 2 days). The storms that soaked Brisbane last week blew out the hot water heater pilot flame and apparently, I'm too stupid it's too complicated for me to light it again. So I'm counterbalancing the excessive washing by having very short showers. Don't ask me why I would need hot showers in the sub-tropical north but I do.

Look what I had for dinner! I think it would be too cruel to eat something like this in front of my brother (whose fortnight supply of light and easy healthy meals were delivered this morning), so I had it today (followed by a slice of fresh cream cake.)

It's chilly, honey, sesame and pepper shredded beef. Deep fried (I think), crispy, sweet, savoury, hot. I first had it maybe 10 years ago. I'll never forget the moment. It was in a Chinese retaurant in a small rural town called Biloela in central Queensland where a cousin lives. We'd just come home from a deep sea fishing trip to Swain's reef, aborted after the seas got too rough. I couldn't eat enough of it! and when we got back to Brisbane, I was thrilled to find it in a Chinese restaurant near my brother's place. Unfortunately, we've not managed to find any in Sydney so if anyone reading this knows a place, email me. PLEASE!

That's it for this quiet Friday night. Thank you for keeping me company. Have a great weekend, and for those of you living in the northern hemisphere who've been so looking forward to it... Happy Spring! X

P.S. I'm told my dog is missing me. BWAH haha!

Miss you too, Georgia! 

The romance of flying, circa 2013.

2 weeks prior.
ME: "So should I just book directly with the airline or check Expedia, Webjet and Zuji?"

CUSHION: "Of course you check everything! There are always special deals. John just flew to Brisbane for 40-something dollars."

A few hours later.
"Are you sure, Cushion? I can't seem to find anything under $59."

"59's not bad!"

"That's one-way."

"Oh."

"And only carry-on baggage with a 10kg limit."

"What's the hurry? You can do better."

2 days later.
"I have to book something, Cushion. I think the prices change every few days hours. It's not $59 anymore. It's $69 and that's only if I fly at 6am." 

"So book it."

"Great."

An hour later.
"You know, I don't think I can make the 10kg carryon limit. I just weighed the bag. It's almost 4 kilos. The Spanish dictionary alone is almost a kilo. And don't tell me to stuff the dictionary and iPad into my backpack. The 10kg limit is a combined weight. Besides, if I only have carryon baggage, I won't be able to bring my little eyebrow scissors."

"Don't be silly. It's a domestic flight."

"But I just checked the regulations! Maybe I should just buy a 15kg check-in luggage allowance? It'll be cheaper to buy it now when I'm booking than at the airport."

"Oh, and should I reserve my seat you think? It's $5 each way for a standard."

"Goodness, should I buy carbon credit?"

"Crap. I think I should get flight insurance. What if something happens and I need to go up early?"

"Listen. Don't worry about taking the 6 o'clock flight. You're only saving $20 and we'll have to get up at 3.30. That's just ridiculous. I don't want to get up at 3.30. Just book a later flight. And go for the 15kg check-in baggage. You're wasting too much time on this."

No kidding.

.

"Seats 1 to 15, keep left. 16 to 30 (or was it 32?) go straight." The Departure Lounge Lady announced. I was in seat 15. Obediently, everyone got up to queue. The best time to go to the ladies, I thought. So off I went. 

By the time I got back, there were only 5 people ahead and in no time at all, I was front of the line. Clever me, I congratulated myself. Just as I got to the counter, Departure Lounge Lady bellowed out, "Mobile phone check-ins to the left." 

Click. Whrrr. What? I was desperately trying to digest this new information, when Departure Lounge Lady grabbed the boarding pass from my hand. As I stood there with vacant eyes and slack jaw contemplating whether I should go left as earlier instructed *whirr*click* ...

"Straight ahead!" Departure Lounge Lady called out impatiently, pointing behind herself. "You have to go straight through the door." Next to me, in his mobile phone check-in line to my left, I heard Man In Suit snigger. 

What are you sniggering at, you rude sod! I wanted to tell him. I'll have you know I am a well travelled woman! And just because I'm not familiar with web check-ins, express self check-in machines, bag drop counters, mobile phone check-ins, SMS itineraries/notifications at 0.99 cents a pop, carbon tax options and how much cream, gel or water I'm allowed to carry on board this particular domestic flight doesn't make me stupid. (Right, Cushion?) Anyway, look at you, Mr Man In Suit. You're so low on the totem pole, you have to take the cheapest flight out to Brisbane on the cheapest carrier, mingling with sandalled backpackers and frugal menopausal housewives. BWAH haha, I say. BWAH haha.

So I followed Departure Lounge Lady's strict instructions and of course, ended up at the line going up the back of the plane. "Sorree!" I said to Tarmac Lady, pointing at the chute overhead, going to the front of the plane. "I think I'm supposed to be up there." "No worries," she beamed back at me, unnaturally jovial at 5.45 am. "You're seat 15. That's right in the middle." 

.

We sat on the tarmac for a good 15 minutes. Someone announced that the plane was being refuelled. The InFlight Ladies walked up and down chastising people who were trying to kill their fellow passengers by not turning off their electronic devices, who hadn't buckled up, who already had their seats down, who put their bags in the overhead compartment wrongly. "Wheels in first!" they called out. It might be a cheap flight but The Ladies were ruthlessly efficient. The plane started to taxi. It taxied for so long, I fell sleep. A loud unhappy grumbling woke me up. 2 thoughts collided in my head. "Finally! We're off! And "Oh god! Does the plane sound sick?"

No sooner were we up in the air, when the InFlight Ladies came round with their trollies. "Coffee? Tea?" Lady, do you honestly think I would waste $3 on a small plastic cup of blackish hot water with not even a dry bikkie to go with it, after waking up at 3.40am to save $20? 

No thanks, I replied politely, pulling the crushed cold pumpkin, spinach and feta muffin that Cushion had bought me the day before, from the bottom of my backpack. A bit of water to wash the crumbs down would have been good, but I hadn't brought any because I wasn't sure if a bottle would be allowed through. (Note to self for future reference - possibly yes because the mother and daughter across the aisle were drinking brazenly from a 1 litre bottle.) 

5 minutes later, InFlight Ladies came round to pick up the empty cups. And before you could say "Whatever happened to the romance of flying?" the pilot (or whoever does these things) was announcing our descent into Brisbane. 

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!

.

.

.

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? 

+

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.