From the archives: I don't see my parents for a year. Or my husband for a month. Then they all arrive on the same weekend

* This post is one from my archives; I wrote it in June 2009 when I was contributing to a news website. It is another cheat post, I know, but I've put it up because I wanted to try a June-themed link-up thingie run by a fantastic blogger I discovered this week: www.lifeinapinkfibro.blogspot.com So here it is (originally posted at http://www.blog.emmamayalldesigns.com.au/ on Feb 18, 2011).


Yesterday morning a few workmates asked me, as polite people are wont to do on Mondays, how my weekend was. I gaped like a fool for some time while searching for an answer.
It had been the kind of weekend for which I’d switched off my brain and the question left me fumbling for the switch to start it again while simultaneously struggling to remember specifics of the preceeding two days.
It had, in fact, been a lovely weekend. Spent with my visiting parents, which allowed me to regress to the state of childhood. In other words, uselessness. I don’t normally do that. It’s more my sister’s role whenever the folks are about.
However I’ve never seen anyone quite so adept at it as my husband. It’s a sight to behold, this sudden transformation from perfectly capable grown man to helpless creature that must be waited upon for everything from a cup of coffee to his ice cream and sprinkles.
But back to the weekend. (During which I also welcomed the above-mentioned husband home after a month-long absence for work. I neglected to mention this during the Monday morning catch-up because anyone who had previously commented on it had done so with decidedly gutter-minded remarks, and I sensed it may not have been appropriate conversation in a professional setting.)
He’d returned just in time for the four of us to spend the weekend camping. But I’m afraid I’m still in lazy mode so won’t attempt to provide an entertaining recount. I’ll instead resort to providing photos (see below) and a plug for tropical Queensland tourism: we broke up the hours of lolling about by exploring, firstly, the amazing Paronella Park, and then the beautiful Hull Heads beach. If you ever get the chance to do either, I recommend you do.

Paronella Park building, by night

Mena Falls, Paronella Park

The main Paronella Park building

Water fountain at Paronella Park

Avenue of trees at Paronella Park

Mum and Paul take a walk along Hulls Head beach

Paradise lost? Not exactly

Today we headed out of town and took our two dogs for a bit of a frolic through a local nature area. It's one of the simple joys of life and we do it whenever we can.
This used to be our favourite place to take them:

And this is where we went today:

Alas, the first picture was taken when we lived in paradise. AKA tropical Far North Queensland. Sea and reef on one side of you, rainforest on the other.
We now live in Coolgardie, WA. Desert on one side of you. And - surprise! - more desert on the other side.
With the possible exception of Siberia, it would be hard to find a place more different from Cairns than the Coolgardie (I should point out it's in the Kalgoorlie region, because most people have never heard of Coolgardie. I know, how weird is that?).
Even the threats to life and limb differ. While at the beach we'd be on the lookout mainly for stinging sea creatures (of both the deadly and merely agonising-but-you'll-live variety) but also had to be wary of stepping on a crab or stonefish and, if near a river, of running into a crocodile.
Here, dangers include snakes, baits laid for wild dogs, falling down old mine shafts and the very real likelihood of choking to death on a fly or 20. People are not kidding, or even exaggerating, when they say WA is home to a schmillion billion flies, with all but about six of them looking to take up residence in your eyes and mouth.
Now, it's very easy to fall under the spell of tropical Queensland. I loved it more than I had loved any other place. But this little corner of WA I've now found myself in also has it's own beauty. It's there in the endless, captivatingly red dirt, the rich afternoon light and the big, wide sky.
And, for all the glaring differences between here and there, it seems the magic of each springs from the same source: the sense that neither landscape can really be tamed.
The sheer lushness and vitality of the tropic's rainforest simply over-runs any attempt at control that isn't sustained. Out here, the desert is silently defiant. Its harshness will, given time, overcome all but the most resolute efforts to make life softer.
Except for the flies. I doubt anything short of apocolypse could move them.

What do you love - or hate - about where you live?

Sun! Surf! Sand! Was mucho excitement on days like these.

Even here, there is still sun, sand (the red sort) and
great excitement.

The good and the (very) ugly

The worst thing about living in Far North Queensland:

Killer (and cranky) reptiles

The best thing about living in Far North Queensland:

No explanation needed, really