Renovation update. Also, I'm pregnant!

As is abundantly clear, I have been neglecting my blog lately. I've chosen to do so for a little while to focus on more pressing matters, like pregnancy and our renovations. So here is what we've been up to, and what's been keeping me away from blogging.

Our growing bubba:

My favourite photo from the 12-week ultrasound.

Our renovations so far, including pics of parts of the house in its original state:

The rather bare front yard after finally getting a mow.

The back yard, back verandah (prior to mowing) and bathroom.

The front door and lounge room, and the super-stylish kitchen.

The previous owner clearly had a thing for archways. These were the first eyesores to go.

Archways no more! Also, Paul looking very enthused about the work ahead.

Hacking into kitchen archway; loungeroom arch replaced, and me getting my flare on.

Our builder/handyman/instructor Charlie hard at work; the flooring that will go down; and patchwork in the kitchen.

Paul having a spot of fun ripping out an awful shrub:

Chained up. Say adios, shrub!

Over she goes.

And gone!

And, finally, there is one final thing taking up quite a bit of my time:

Work.
Don't get me wrong, I love overtime. But the timing of the recent bout of
longer days and extra shifts hasn't been exactly convenient.

Have you ever taken on the tedious yet exciting process that is renovating? Any tips?

WA road trip 2011 - days 6 to 8

With the sun deigning to make a return, and the canvas sealant applied, we were able to pack up a dry tent on day 6. That day we went as far as a little seaside village called Cervantes.
We just overnighted there - and enjoyed a bargain seafood platter at the local bowling club thanks to a voucher from the caravan park. Honestly, where would this country be without its bowling clubs?
From there Paul and I made a quick trip into a mad little pocket of coastal land called The Pinnacles. It's a funny little mini-desert, virtually right on the coast, and completely dotted with small rock formations rising out of the ground. Quite intriguing. And as I was feeling very lazy-bonesy that morning, I was delighted to learn you could drive through it, instead of having to walk. Hurrah! (You can walk through it too, if you're feeling even remotely energetic.)

Various shots of the Pinnacles. See, I didn't just sit in the car the whole way.

At one point we advised a gent on his camera, who wanted to know whether megabytes or gigabytes were bigger.
The road from there took us north, toward Geraldton and through beautiful lush farmland. Until, just south of Geraldton, we found a gorgeous stretch of beach and decided to make it home for the following few days.
We were happy with it, anyway. I can't say the same for the fish that ended up in our bellies. Other campers who came along and discovered we'd nabbed the best spot may not have been quite as impressed, either.
We'd been on the move almost every day since leaving home and it was finally time to kick back in one spot for a while. And kick back we did. There were walks along the beach, a brief, ankle-deep paddle in the wintry Indian Ocean, drinks as the sun went down over the water, fishing expeditions and morning sleep-ins.
I made a dent in the stack of magazines that had been building up at home and I'd bought along. I baked a cake. And, with the smidge of network coverage available, I even caught up on a couple of emails.
The most arduous part was trudging through the thick sand to get anywhere. Well, it was until our final night there. Then circumstances became decidedly more arduous...

Beautiful Flat Rock beach. Photos courtesy of my mother. Thanks Mum.
The orange tent is ours. No idea who the surfer is - quite a few turned up during the weekend we were there.

To be continued...

WA road trip: days 4 and 5. Part II

Once back in New Norcia, where we spent our fifth night, Mum and I trotted off to photograph what has to be one of the country's most photogenic towns, and Paul and Dad got to it with applying the sealant to the roof of our tent. (I'll fill you in on the success, or otherwise, of the exercise later. Suffice to say, it was not the last damp night of the trip.)

Inside one of New Norcia's glorious
churches (above and below)

Photographing this amazing place wasn't enough, so the Thursday morning we joined a guided tour of the town.
As a fact generally only stays in my head for as long as it takes for another one to enter, I don't recall 100 per cent of the info our guide imparted. Some of the more interesting bits I do remember include:
* New Norcia is Australia's only monastic town. It was created by Spain's St Benedictine monks.
* currently eight monks live there. They employ about 70 people.
* miracles involving bush fires and an angry Aboriginal man come in handy when you're a band of pioneering, missionary monks working to convert the local indigenous population.
* the early monks didn't agree with the government-appointed term of 'orphanage' for their home for Aboriginal children, as many of the children did have families living in the area.
* the monks have to get up before 5am six days of the week (meaning I shouldn't complain about having to do it nine days of the fortnight).
* but they get to maintain the Spanish tradition of an afternoon siesta (which I do not).

I cannot express just how amazing this town is. If you ever go to Perth, make sure you get up there for a look.

Some more photos:

Coming up: we head to the beach!

WA road trip 2011 - days 4 and 5. Part 1

Right, so I managed a whopping one holiday post while on holidays. Whoops. Click here if you'd like to read it. This one follows on from it.

Have you ever been camping in a leaky tent? Yes? No?
Nor had I, until this road trip.
I had once spent a wet weekend camping when someone, who shall remain nameless but whose initials are Paul Mayall, decided we didn't need the tent. And subsequently got dripped on all night thanks to a leaky tarp hastily erected over our swag.
But I'd never had a tent leak on me. Not even when the most ferocious thunder and rain storm I've ever seen cracked open over us while in Kakadu late last year.
The same tent that survived the Kakadu downpour decided enough was enough this time, and began to leak on night three of the holiday. We were not impressed. Though there was a couple of saving graces - we noticed before we even got the swag unrolled (putting a tent up in the driving rain is handy that way), and we had just enough room in my parents' camper to sleep.
We were near a place called Bindoon that night, and were on our way to Perth for the Wicked musical/show.
So, luckily, we did sleep warm and dry, and were able to book into a cabin for our night in Perth. Where it continued to rain intermittently, I might add.
Mum and I saw the show and loved it. If you didn't get around to seeing it, give yourself a smack. It was worth it.
First port of call the following morning, on our way out of the city and back to the fascinating monastic town of New Norcia, was BCF (Paul's second favourite place ever, after Bunnings) for some canvas sealant.
Second port of call, and almost as important, was morning tea at the Margaret River Chocolate Factory near Midland. If you're ever in that area and are even a mild chocoholic (though I have my doubts that mild chocoholics actually exist), make sure you visit this place. Beautiful chocolate, a huge range, and the best hot mocha Paul says he's had in years. Dad gives the thumbs up to their ice cream, too.

The front of the boys school at the
monastic town of New Norcia.

Some more photos of New Norcia (exteriors. Stay tuned for pics of the insides of these beautiful buildings).

To be continued...

Out with the funk, in with the blog (again)

Hello everyone, 'tis me again. Sorry for not posting for so long. Despite appearances, I didn't actually forget that I had a blog. It just got pushed a little towards the back of my mind for a while.
Don't worry, not by anything major. Not anything minor, even.
Firstly, I had about a week with no internet coverage while traipsing about the WA never never on holidays, which kind of broke my blogging (reading and writing) habit. Then I got a bit wrapped up due to my parents visiting, and organising the final stages of settling the purchase of our house. Not that either of those made me busy, but they sound like convenient excuses so I'll run with them.
And I was in a bit of a funk - you know the kind where you go back to work after a couple of weeks off and subsequently lack motivation for anything because you wish you were still on holidays? I was in that kind of funk.
But, lately I've kind of been hovering around the fringes of the blogosphere. Have read the odd post here and there and checked in with twitter and Facebook occasionally.
And now I'm back to feeling like myself so hopefully can breath some life into this blog again. I have a couple of posts already written about my holidays, which are obviously outdated now, but I'm going to use them in the very near future anyway. It's my blog and I'll make it look old and tired if I can't be bothered doing otherwise want to.
Hope you enjoy!

Road trip 2011 - Days one to three

Regular readers will know we are on long-awaited holidays. For this holiday we're on a road trip with my parents. Internet service has been patchy, so here is a brief rundown on days one to three.
We traveled from Coolgardie to Bindoon, just south of New Norcia.

Beringbooding Rock

Sights include Karalee Dam, Elachbutting Rock (any advice on how to pronounce it would be welcomed), Beringbooding Rock and a brief stop in New Norcia - we will return to explore it properly.
The landscape has morphed from scrubby red desert, to blackened burnt-out desert to languid, stretching farmland vivid with green and yellow crops.
Almost every mile features wildflowers in shades of pink, white, yellow and purple peeking out from the undergrowth, refusing to let the wattle steal the show.
We encountered one wildly windy, dark night with bursts of rain, and one frigid but peaceful, moonlit night.
We have also:
* had a minor mishap with our brakes (resolved).
* had a mishap with with Mum's SLR camera (not yet completely resolved)
* dined with 20 gazillion flies.
* developed a system where after each trip to the campground facilities you report on the state of the toilet paper roll, for the benefit of the next person paying it a visit
* retrieved the kettle from the fire. Twice.
* found a pocket of vegetation atop Elachbutting Rock that was like coming across a secret garden on the rooftop of the world.
* sat back and drunk the requisite number cups of coffee and glasses of wine stipulated in Holidays 101.

Happy hour. Paul gives it the double thumbs up,
so you know it has to be good.

Canola fields.

Elachbutting Rock.

We are actually on day four now, and are at Perth. Tonight we will be in the audience of Wicked the musical. Well, Mum and I will be; the guys don't really go for "that kind of dancey, la-la caper" quality entertainment.

Here is a quick slideshow of some photos taken so far:



And a couple of brief videos. Which aren't all that interesting and were only recorded because I wanted to play with my iPad.






Coming soon: Day four to whenever I get to do another update

< Previous post: Taking a break. But hopefully not a bloggy break

Taking a break. But hopefully not a bloggy break

Image from here

At long last, I'm about to go on holidays. OK, so I had a holiday last September-October. And it was a pretty big one. (You can read about it here, here, here and here.) Nor have I exactly been been worked to the bone since. But it sounds better saying it like that. Because after months of the blasted, blaring alarm blasting and blaring at 4.40am, it feels like this has been a long time coming.
So, the Desert Rambler will finally do some desert rambling. And a bit of beach rambling. Even a tiny slice of city rambling.
I'm not sure yet what it means for this blog for the following couple of weeks. We'll be traveling through the region between Perth and Kalgoorlie and I've no idea what internet service I'll have. So, while I hope to use my days away from this thing they call work to write some drafts, things might go a bit quiet around here in the interim.
There is one thing you can expect: lots of photos. I love taking photos. My parents are traveling with us and they also are fond of taking a snap or six thousand. So much so that Mum has joined a camera club - and I fully intend to appropriate borrow some of hers to pretty up my posts here.
So be prepared for many, many pics, uploaded either during the trip or once we're back in civilisation.
Which leaves me with just one more thing to say for now:

 - I'm. ON. HOLIDAAAAAYYYZZZ!! (Yes, mispelling this word goes against my grain, but what the hell, I'm on holidays. I don't care about mangled English).

< Previous post: Wordless Wednesday - I'm a wildflower

Wordless Wednesday - I'm a Wildflower

All of a sudden wildflowers are everywhere.

The trip into town is like driving through a garden.

It's still bloody cold though. Grrr.

Linking up with Trish from My Little Drummer Boys again for Wordless Wednesday. 

Thanks Trish!

< Previous post: Some days, most days... Featuring chocolate and overly snug pants

Some days, most days... featuring chocolate and tight pants. Which may or may not be related

It's choc-o'clock somewhere.
Image source: www.corbisimages.com

* Some days I make it to 7pm without chocolate. Most days I make it to 4.12pm - the moment I get home from work.
* Some days I'm on twitter too much. Most days I check in every now and then and notice everyone is having wonderful, entertaining tweetversations while I'm missing out oblivious.
* Some days I swear my pants have shrunk in the wash. Most days they are merely what you might call 'slightly too snug' - I can tell, because Paul makes lewd, appreciative comments, and when he finds them that attractive they are generally too tight for public consumption. But some days I get this particular pair that almost cuts me in half. It's just that one pair, so the blame lies with the pants, not my girth, right? Right?
* Some days I don't even think about how many shifts I have left before I reach my days off. Most days, recently, I've been counting down several times a day - because I'll be having not just RDOs, but holidays! Woohoo, holidaaaays! They begin at knock-off time Thursday, just so you know.

Linking up again with Lulu from Cherry Blossom Adventures for this 'Some days, most days' post. Thanks Lulu!

< Previous post: The kind of day that should sod off and never come back

The kind of day that should sod off and never come back

Saturday was not a great day. It was one of 'those' days. One where sticking my head in the industrial-sized drying oven and slamming the door would likely have been more pleasant and productive.
It began while making my lunches for the next few days. I normally try and do this in advance but I hadn't been exactly industrious the night before.
The lid of one container would not, no matter how much I wrangled with it, snap on. I love Tupperware, but sometimes it is just too good at sealing for it's own good, if you know what I mean.
While eating breakfast I tried to join Maxabella's 'Grateful' blog link. But the linky tool thing was slow and I thought it hadn't worked. So I did it again. And sure enough, when I got around to checking it a couple of hours later, it was there twice. Sorry linkers, I wasn't being intentionally greedy, just an impatient, technological idiot.

Short on stature but big on fury? I can relate.
Image source: www.dailymoxie.com

Anyway, moving right along. And when attempting to get dressed I couldn't find a clean shirt. I knew I had at least one left, but it was AWOL, so I picked Friday's out of the basket. The husband said my clean washing was probably mixed up with his and went to look for it. Three times I said, "Don't worry about it, I'll wear this one", but he ignored me and got it. Normally when I ask him to fetch something he's all huff and puff and Idontwanna - either that or, half jokingly says 'sure thing, if you *insert sexual favour* for me', so why he actually did it when I didn't want him to, is more than I can explain.
Next up, pulling my shoes on. I pull out a chair so I can do it sitting down, and turn to pick up the boots. Paul pushes the chair back in on his way past. He's the messiest man on the planet - why did he choose then to have his once-a-year moment of neatness? Again, fecked if I know.
So, I pick up my boots, pull them on, lace one up. Lace the other up and ping! The lace gives out. It's cactus.
Finally we get out the door and I try climbing into the ute - 4WDs are not made for females of the stumpy-legged variety, I can tell you* - and bang the side of my head on the door frame.
We got to work a bit late so I bunked off from the morning meeting. It was a Saturday, so chances were there weren't many bosses around who'd notice.
Got on with what I had to do, my fingers stiff and sore in the cold. Jammed one painfully between two steel pipes at one point. I didn't realise it was bleeding until half an hour later when I took off my rubber glove and the middle finger was coated in blood. Not pretty.
Then while doing some of the paperwork I put a couple of numbers in the wrong section. Later I couldn't see where I'd recorded them (obviously). Entered mild panic that I'd missed a vital step in the process. Fortunately I soon located them. End panic.
Time came to prep the sample solutions. Like a moron I failed to distinguish between a '10' and a '5' and used wrong sized pipette on one, necessitating doing it again.
The morning ran a little more smoothly from there. But I had yet to do the town delivery, and, given how well the day was going, I was a bit nervy about getting in a vehicle. I am clueless about cars and mechanical stuff, so if something went wrong I'd be up the proverbial creek.
The first 10 minutes of the trip went well. Then I heard a weird noise. Looking down in alarm, I realised I'd somehow gotten up to 120km/h. Phew. It was just the old rattle-mobil doing some extra rattling in protest. I returned to the speed limit and it behaved.
Once I'd made the delivery I decided to spend my break having coffee and hedgehog slice at a cafe. Another mistake. While parking I almost took out the verandah post of the shop adjacent to the parking space because the handbrake wasn't on properly and the vehicle rolled forward a frightening distance short way.
I got out and went to lean into the vehicle to retrieve my bag. Got blinded by sun, miscued and brained myself (yes, again) on the door frame. Stood there, half bent into the driver's seat, rubbing my skull, until someone in a ginormous wagon* wanted the park beside me. Unfortunately for them, my rear and the car door were blocking their way, and they were forced to wait until I had locked up and scurried off.
The day wasn't so bad after that - it's amazing what coffee and chocolate can do. A few sundry balls-ups like burning myself with the hot water tap, putting the wrong sample in the wrong bag, and dropping things left, right and centre hardly counted.
And finally the powers that be decided I'd been hassled enough.  "You can have a marvellous day now," they seemed to say. "Especially since it's basically over."
Well, powers that be, THANKS A LOT!

* Huge 4WD vehicles tick me off. We have one, and it especially ticks me off.

How often do you have days like this? What do you do to cheer yourself up at the end of them?

< Previous post: Caturday - The Bigfoot Edition
Next post: Some days, most days... featuring chocolate and tight pants >

Caturday - The Bigfoot Edition

The rules seem pretty loose on the gorgeous rainbowtatt's Caturday event, so I'm linking up today. Because I forgot yesterday.
Here's Toby, aka Bigfoot, on a blanket now so coated in cat hair I don't think I could bring myself to do anything else with it, even after a wash.

Unless you want to cop this clodhopper on the ear, just let me sleep, all right?

Happy Caturday!

< Previous post: Grateful for ... my beanie. Kind of
Next post: The kind of day that should just sod off and never come back >

Grateful for ... my beanie. Kind of

Lately - meaning ever since the temperature dropped below 15 degrees - I've been grateful for my beanie. Even though it only cost $4 from Woolies and makes me look like I work for rentathug.com, it does the job on nippy mornings.
I'm also grateful for my ability to swallow my vanity and wear it. Especially as I have to team it with a hard hat, completing the thug/total nutter look. As demonstrated:
The beanie:

I don't want to write a caption because it would mean
having to look at this photo, and I'd rather avoid that.

The beanie-helmet combo:

And finally, I'm grateful for people who see me in it wait til I'm out of sight and/or earshot before wetting themselves with laughter.

PS Any of you clever knitter/bloggers out there who'd like to make me a more stylish one, feel free. I will pay!

Joining in Maxabella's lovely 'Grateful' link-up again.

< Previous post: Refugee swap on YouTube - Crap policy, crap programming

Refugee swap on YouTube: Crap policy, crap programming

Asylum seekers held in detention.

Image source: www.singaporedailynewsblog.blogspot.com

Two things guaranteed to leave me angry and disappointed: our Government's refugee policy and reality TV. Actually, I fib. Reality TV rarely upsets me anymore because I don't watch it.
And now the two are going to be combined, with the Federal Government planning to film the transportation of asylum seekers to Malaysia and place it on YouTube (not exactly TV, but you get what I mean). You can read about it here.
I may be missing something with this story, but I don't see how the move is going to be a win-win for the Government.
The aim, supposedly, is to deter people smugglers and potential asylum seekers from coming to Australia in boats. Now, to work as a deterrent, the footage is going to have to make for unpleasant viewing. Which shouldn't be hard, should it.
Yet promoting itself as a government that treats people in such a way is hardly going to do it any favours in other circles. As far as I can tell, anyway. But I'm no expert on politics, so maybe I am, in fact, missing something.
As much as I wish this wasn't happening (the shipping people to Malaysia part, that is. I welcome the part of deal in which we accept 4000 refugees), I hope commercial TV producers don't pay it too much mind. Otherwise we may be in line for more god-awful shows.
Instead of one called The Hills, we'd have The Cells. Or, rather than My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, there'd be My Big Fat Shafting by Australia.
No. Please no.

< Previous post: Wordless Wednesday - Our new-old house

What are your thoughts on the issue? And can you stand to watch reality TV?

Wordless Wednesday: Our new-old house

Linking up with Trish from My Little Drummer Boys for another Wordless Wednesday post. Thanks Trish!

We are very excited to be in the midst of buying a house.

Sold! To the blogging lady and her handy husband.

This house:

A tad overgrown at the moment. And don't get me started on the purple trim.

Clearly, it needs some attention. And that's just on the outside. 

But, in my head, it will look something like this once we're done with it:

Cute cottage.
Image source: www.blueprintbliss.blogspot.com

Ideal for Nowheresville, Western Australia, don't you think?

< Previous post: Some days, most days...
Next post: Refugee swap on YouTube - Crap policy, crap programming >

Some days, most days

Nuts: Gotta love 'em.
Image source: here

Some days nuts are all that keep me going from breakfast at 5am to lunch around noon. On the days when you're flat out they're a handy option: grab a handful or several on the run and down them, leaving your hands free to do the thousand jobs that have be done in the morning.

You know that scene at the start of The Devil Wears Prada where the fashionista daintily counts out her almonds, taking care not to exceed her calorie allowance? Yeah? Well, that's not me. I grab a fistful and shove as many in my gob as I can chew without spilling any.

Most days ... I have time for more sustenance, and cups of tea.

Some days I can't wait to be a mother. I want to hold a chubby bubba RIGHT NOW! Some days I think my life is perfect as is and it would be madness to change it. Most days I merely look forward to motherhood as a 'down the track' thing. Albeit a 'hopefully not too far down the track' thing.

Some days I learn, either first hand or online, of yet another person experiencing some form of mental illness. And my heart bleeds for them. Most days (every day, in fact) it also heaves a massive sigh of relief that I, and my nearest and dearest, have been lucky to have so far escaped the scourge. Lucky beyond words.

Some days I can hear the birds singing as I leave for work. Most days there is simply the peaceful silence of a country town in the pre-dawn.

Linking up again with Lulu from Cherry Blossom Adventures. Thanks Lulu!

< Previous post: All class
Next post: Wordless Wednesday - Our new-old house >

All class

Regular readers will be aware of my husband's huntin', shootin', bush-goin' ways. But he's also talented and creative. Where these characteristics intersect is with his part-time hobby/home business of making custom knives. And, if I may say so, he's pretty damn good at it. His knives are top notch. And they are beautiful.
Here is one of his latest masterpieces, almost at completion:

Paul's talents also extend to making high-quality sheaths for the knives. Customers have these personalized with, say, their initials or a particular pattern stamped on them. Or they can have a picture carving. One guy provided a photo of his beloved great dane and had Paul carve it onto the pouch.
Now, most customers are hunters too and so go with a hunting-themed image. But what do you think the guy having the above-pictured knife made wants? In his own words: 'a massive pair of tits'.
Charming.
Bags not doing the Google search to find a photo for Paul to copy from for that one. My own assets are far from fitting the brief ('massive', remember), so I thankfully won't have to pose, either.

The heterosexual male's fascination with boobs still takes me by surprise sometimes. What well-documented male traits amaze you?

< Previous post: Too busy to read. Too lazy to shave my legs. And other random bits of news
Next post: Some days, most days >

Too busy to read. Too lazy to shave my legs. And other random bits of news

What my stack of neglected books would currently look
like. If I hadn't got with the times and
started reading with an e-reader.
Image source: www.artjunction.org

There's been a spike of activity in my corner of desert land lately. Nothing super exciting (well, apart from us buying a house. WE'RE BUYING A HOUSE!) so I'm afraid I'm a little low on things of note to report.
But the blogosphere likes to be fed. Often. So what to do but do a busy-but-boring post? Ergo, what exactly has been going down in desert town:
Work has been busy - though thankfully the run of 14-hour shifts appears to be over for now. Home has been busy - as it generally is around tax time, winter (extra washing, running about after firewood seemingly every second day and so on) and sifting through the waffle generated by a house purchase.
Even my near comatose social life has drawn a few fresh, shuddering gasps and got a little colour back in its cheeks.
In a bid to get done the things I currently need done, I decided prior to my last lot of days off that I wouldn't start reading another book until this lot of days off. Reading is my main form of distraction, so I hoped abstaining would free up a lot of hours. I initially floated the idea of giving up cooking and sex for the same period. Let's just say that was not well received. So, it was my reading habit that had to go. Temporarily, anyway. We are still busy and, with great effort, I've extended the ban.
So much for life in a sleepy little country town. I guess, compared to the hectic pace of a city, it is sleepy here. The traffic certainly is. One thing is quick though - word. Word gets around FAST.
I should be used to it by now, but it's still a little bit scary. Probably because everyone knows everyone and we all live virtually within shouting distance of each other.
For example, I'll replay a conversation we had with a nice young couple we'd just met while attending a BBQ the other night. The couple had mentioned they lived just around the corner from the host's place.
Me: Oh right, so where are you guys?

New guy: We're in X street, number YY.
Me: We're in X street! You must be in the block just down from us.
Paul: But we just bought a house and are about to move to Z street, up the end, in the house next to Old Mate's* son.
New guy: Ah, me old man's up there. You'll be two down from 'im, then.

See? There's about 0.0006 degrees of separation between everyone.
This was the second BBQ we'd been to in as many weeks. For a homebody like me, that is enough to constitute a spike in social activity. A welcome spike, however.
We were lucky to make it to this one, because just before we left for it, I was pulling on my favorite boots and took the opportunity to show Paul the carpet-like state of my winter legs. He almost had a heart attack.
I tend to think that if your legs see the light of day so rarely even your husband doesn't notice the forest, you shouldn't need to bother with deforestation. In the interests of maintaining his cardiac health, however, I'm rethinking that theory.

* It had previously been established that both Paul and New Guy knew Old Mate. And his son. Not that it had really needed to be established. You can almost always assume that, like I said, everyone knows everyone. Or, at least, knows of them.

What do you give up when you need to dedicate time to more pressing, if mundane, matters? And can anyone tell me who's fool idea it was to decree leg hair on women shocking and undesirable?

< Previous post: Wordless Wednesday - Nugget Necklace

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Wordless Wednesday - Nugget necklace

It's Wednesday, so once again I'm joining in with (the currently road-tripping) Trish from My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday. And, once again, it's not entirely wordless.

Mr Desert Rambler actually did some desert rambling a little while ago, when he headed off for a prospecting trip. And got rained in and had to spend an entire week miles from anywhere - fancy that happening in the desert! (And yes, I will post about his adventure, some time). Anyway, much to my surprise, he prospected up these items:

He was overjoyed. Because the biggest piece was his first ever real find, it was very special to him. So he wanted it to be worn by someone very special to him. Me. I was touched. Cue the purchase a gold chain (on sale, thank god!), taking nugget no.1 to the nugget people to be fitted to a hook, and me being 'encouraged' to affix it around my neck at every opportunity. So, the finished product:

Do you have an item of jewellery of significant personal value? Have you ever had a man advise you on accessories?

< Previous post: Some days, most days...

Next post: Too busy to read. Too lazy to shave my legs. And other random bits of news >

Some days, most days

Today I'm linking up with Cherry Blossom Adventures for a 'Some days are Tuesdays' post. Thanks Lulu!

Some days I am personally affronted by people in awful outfits. I rarely get the chance to wear nice things anymore and have started to believe that every opportunity to do so should be taken, and not wasted on three-sizes-too-small leggings and a Jim Beam jacket. Most days I just cringe though.

Some days I'm convinced 80 per cent of the staff at the local Bunnings are thicker than the four-inch planks in their warehouse. Most days I don't go near the place. Thankfully.

Shame about the dimwit staff, though.
Image source: www.bunnings.com.au

Some days hearing someone say 'I seen' when they mean 'I saw' has no effect on me. Most days it makes my teeth hurt.

Some days I gossip at work. Most days I keep out of it. Unless it comes with extra juice.

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Blast from the past

A little patch of my current home town.

I've posted before, here, about my thoughts on this place - Coolgardie, by which I really mean the general area and surrounding countryside - and its appeal. Which, to be fair, may be rather limited in some people's eyes, given it's a tiny little place on the edge of the desert.
But I love it here. Positively love it.
Despite having no history here, and it being on the opposite side of the country to my original home, I feel a connection to the place. And I'm pretty sure it's, in part, because it reminds me of my childhood. Visually and socially.
For example, the other day Paul and I went to pull down a shed. (No, I did not pull down a lot of sheds as a child, but bear with me).
We were doing the shed pulling-down thing because we are in the process of buying a house. A little house that sits on a huge block - they are all huge here - but which lacks the requisite man-cave. Fortunately, it does have an existing concrete slab of substantial dimensions - sorry, adequate dimensions, according to the man requiring the cave - on which to place a shed. Also fortunate was the fact our real estate agent needed to remove a hay shed from a horse block her hubby had been leasing and offered the iron and framework to us for a very reasonable price, providing we removed it.
This suited us, so on one of our recent work-free days we gathered our shed-dismantling gear and got to it.
And, to get to the point of the story, it was on the drive out when I felt a piece of my childhood return.
To clarify, I grew up in a pocket of western NSW where the ground is a rich red, the trees low and scrubby, the sky wide and bright and winter mornings crisp and sparkling. Unless they're foggy and damp, which is also somewhat romantic, provided they're experienced from a fire-side or within a deep, insulating coat.
I saw all this again that morning. Once more, I was driving down a country road of red dirt and pot holes, past stretches of grey-green shrubs huddling among the mist (as it was a foggy affair, rather than a sparkling one, that particular day), stopping to open a gate and breathing chill, fresh morning air.
There was even a piece of Tupperware containing a home-made cake on the back seat. Just like there always was when our family was out for the day.

The Tupperware in question. Who doesn't have a
childhood memory featuring Tupperware, really?

I had a very happy childhood out in 'the sticks'. And I have a very happy life here, out in the sticks. Which is occasionally made all the sweeter by these little blasts from the past. I may not have ever set foot in the place until about nine months ago, but I feel like I belong.

Would you believe I took this photo at the local tip one afternoon last week?
Does your tip look this pretty in the afternoon light?

Do you have a connection to a certain place? What aspects of your current home do you love? More importantly, do you have fond memories of Tupperware?

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