tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91954670399753005952024-03-14T03:57:23.779+01:00AUSTRALIAN FAMILY HENDRICKS(formerly Known as SWISS FAMILY HENDRICKS)
An occasional insight into the expat life of the Canadian Hendricks family now discovering life down under, Bienvenue!C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-25336011995996813172015-09-20T05:40:00.001+02:002015-09-20T05:41:06.014+02:00Another Walk and Everlasting DaisiesIt's been a full-on week, a quick 40-hour trip to Sydney with my mum to escort her part of the way home to Canada, followed by a full week of work. J is in all all-weekend tennis tournament while fighting a cold and squeezing in a community Amazing Race activity. And C2 is winging is way to the USA for a fast 5 days, In between we caught up with friends Friday and Saturday night, phew.<div>
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It's through these busy times that I am rejuvenated by solitary runs and walks (time for a new dog?) through this spectacular place that I now call home. The following are a few more images of a moment of calm in the middle of a busy week.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">A Balga or Grasstree</span></b></td></tr>
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While their mistress was doing yoga on the jetty, these two Labradors were performing the very clever game of "don't move in case a fish swims by". I sat on the edge of a tinnie for 15 minutes to see if they would move - they didn't!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegqvbvO8Z5ePEHxSatBO6ybpZ23hjgKQaHcG5oQ50PMqa-e-e-vI5Edu7pnoyphaVgGoEfGySYdb4KFABOQUbaCVPf2hZXgCESTqmzvsPQijqmo4MrOJp95lb3g6ghPoNSh8cz7hv1ZQ/s1600/IMG_0897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegqvbvO8Z5ePEHxSatBO6ybpZ23hjgKQaHcG5oQ50PMqa-e-e-vI5Edu7pnoyphaVgGoEfGySYdb4KFABOQUbaCVPf2hZXgCESTqmzvsPQijqmo4MrOJp95lb3g6ghPoNSh8cz7hv1ZQ/s640/IMG_0897.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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This woman paddled by in her kayak with her dog running on the footpath beside the river, quite distressed. The dog finally found a path down the steep river wall about half a kilometre ahead.<br />
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Where she joined her mistress and refused to return up the path, in spite of both or our efforts. So there was only one thing to do...<br />
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Which was of course to load the intrasigent pooch into the Kayak and carry-on...<br />
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I carried on as well through a field of Everlasting Daisies which I believe are the state flower of Western Australia.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgvUXIxcbBq8-Gi_FBDiFS9Q-oiEACCzYy2bW6m9Ck85Q5evDhUbocGcV8PInKS9McteQojggC8QP8wJ2BkPPo7MXEq0DoKDYUqnRi50NhcedKdVZ0MeLlfMWmr9_URsKnbiIG2lbXE8/s1600/IMG_0907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgvUXIxcbBq8-Gi_FBDiFS9Q-oiEACCzYy2bW6m9Ck85Q5evDhUbocGcV8PInKS9McteQojggC8QP8wJ2BkPPo7MXEq0DoKDYUqnRi50NhcedKdVZ0MeLlfMWmr9_URsKnbiIG2lbXE8/s640/IMG_0907.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEK9cB4Zej57bGNzAzTTJvVBcEUesVUTsBxpBks6inI7vl0TSsOl4V0ah7stjFLCtrwS4THoVlureBcufrqF4sHwxvcMy9h6KLzuAHoGPWuglQ3Wcl6JHSyJANY4Q8FirGHI2W0TnhyphenhyphennM/s1600/IMG_0908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEK9cB4Zej57bGNzAzTTJvVBcEUesVUTsBxpBks6inI7vl0TSsOl4V0ah7stjFLCtrwS4THoVlureBcufrqF4sHwxvcMy9h6KLzuAHoGPWuglQ3Wcl6JHSyJANY4Q8FirGHI2W0TnhyphenhyphennM/s640/IMG_0908.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Everlastings AND Wattle in full bloom</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vJ92EH8YHHSHq9h-FbRwgR4g93xqPLX2ZQ4hK_fi1QmZRY4zVQPqs8XsDLu8Rz3GJI60ZihVlDblg1NqCrfAHMM5nE2yWaLccAD7lXTcJelsx2uADmWytOZwYsq5fDPdimVNBqR_qKA/s1600/IMG_0910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vJ92EH8YHHSHq9h-FbRwgR4g93xqPLX2ZQ4hK_fi1QmZRY4zVQPqs8XsDLu8Rz3GJI60ZihVlDblg1NqCrfAHMM5nE2yWaLccAD7lXTcJelsx2uADmWytOZwYsq5fDPdimVNBqR_qKA/s640/IMG_0910.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">What a color, right?</span></b></td></tr>
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These are my mum's favorite Australia flower: the aptly dubbed "Kangaroo Paw" which is in riotous bloom at the moment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">A single rose growing spectacularly in my front garden</span></b></td></tr>
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Find your place of peace.<br /><br /><div>
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C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-51882472130197898292015-08-25T10:51:00.000+02:002015-08-25T10:51:28.147+02:00A Monday Morning Run Through the Lens of my iPhoneOn an early morning run today, I was distracted by the scent of wild freesia which has begun blooming during these late winter days in Perth. The scent was so intoxicating that I decided to document some of the amazing flora in this part of Western Australia at this time of year teetering between winter and spring. As a Canadian, I continue to be fascinated by the wide variety of Gums or Eucalyptus trees indigenous to this part of the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqylDAx_hZo8Di743QKEMVMx4pMQv91bdUFu0DoPsAx3uLxynURTyQxUpqqSg6KXtioAhDvO7CmTlhzO5ncHyES36RnhyphenhyphenUgwkZvdt-5WpG-sri92p_4BLNo_3OgaftyiAL9FBDuU2f2dc/s1600/IMG_0849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqylDAx_hZo8Di743QKEMVMx4pMQv91bdUFu0DoPsAx3uLxynURTyQxUpqqSg6KXtioAhDvO7CmTlhzO5ncHyES36RnhyphenhyphenUgwkZvdt-5WpG-sri92p_4BLNo_3OgaftyiAL9FBDuU2f2dc/s640/IMG_0849.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Wild Freesia</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazo1ScRcujJgFoUUe4-EHhqvR-MHrbDEd2vMI6UMoLh4tfD01ayP8GfGITvSrkxO3mVFXzSEK-9Mj55Pr456Cq43jp3f-XpDjzuKDdQ_HT9SukAuX2k9T2hX49SajGBfkT28u4IuJoRQ/s1600/IMG_0851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazo1ScRcujJgFoUUe4-EHhqvR-MHrbDEd2vMI6UMoLh4tfD01ayP8GfGITvSrkxO3mVFXzSEK-9Mj55Pr456Cq43jp3f-XpDjzuKDdQ_HT9SukAuX2k9T2hX49SajGBfkT28u4IuJoRQ/s640/IMG_0851.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Looking down at the Swan River from the footpath</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Fields of Freesia</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Golden Wattle beginning to bloom</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FXhA1zj2rulailiYxzadoostt98s7mjfOvKcRrICWlJXJmvDXDK5rT8_2BbeU7FhJ6mLQOpgYEFqfccgyz9xkxq0uBxSCHJH9yNm05b9mScGcjqC-Lu0qcHV_1pbLkQ69mNfErWgMF0/s1600/IMG_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FXhA1zj2rulailiYxzadoostt98s7mjfOvKcRrICWlJXJmvDXDK5rT8_2BbeU7FhJ6mLQOpgYEFqfccgyz9xkxq0uBxSCHJH9yNm05b9mScGcjqC-Lu0qcHV_1pbLkQ69mNfErWgMF0/s640/IMG_0857.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">My view of the mighty Swan River</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gocZpo43HrWzywgRwq-V-Mq7NBP66vfppS9OPPcfwYdJ57fapzGACb3lKVWbFh5PHys-6LjwyrlvB6AxUx6jOR2jF0Z4Ymu2WDA-osDHHRw_9NswwIiMc4g282UyywNrIwNLm6jNRTo/s1600/IMG_0858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8gocZpo43HrWzywgRwq-V-Mq7NBP66vfppS9OPPcfwYdJ57fapzGACb3lKVWbFh5PHys-6LjwyrlvB6AxUx6jOR2jF0Z4Ymu2WDA-osDHHRw_9NswwIiMc4g282UyywNrIwNLm6jNRTo/s640/IMG_0858.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The path most definitely taken</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLuyeWXhQhwIMx7vsE_6ZemhBe0XRFoiS06kAGGFYMyDSc3WTbrifYuFRrtHRqQZiYR3NS8GE2nlq_sy7e0xucP_x0KR1oUqeJtnoBtMnjEHONPjGVwE26zdlf9t3arI8TC6CCpG1p4M/s1600/IMG_0860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLuyeWXhQhwIMx7vsE_6ZemhBe0XRFoiS06kAGGFYMyDSc3WTbrifYuFRrtHRqQZiYR3NS8GE2nlq_sy7e0xucP_x0KR1oUqeJtnoBtMnjEHONPjGVwE26zdlf9t3arI8TC6CCpG1p4M/s640/IMG_0860.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The Scotch College boat shed where the rowers launch</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumxGp0WCCN9TGMsE3aRv35SP7kcHjrmyAokbbWakvr6CssGfcajASObiwV7QwtmFQAzIYQjTsV1XadiHrgveaUy6RQX_5CFDZ2RPw-uOgL8zJwII2MJwxQYk40LdJmce-VZcNsCgVwzE/s1600/IMG_0861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumxGp0WCCN9TGMsE3aRv35SP7kcHjrmyAokbbWakvr6CssGfcajASObiwV7QwtmFQAzIYQjTsV1XadiHrgveaUy6RQX_5CFDZ2RPw-uOgL8zJwII2MJwxQYk40LdJmce-VZcNsCgVwzE/s640/IMG_0861.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">A Ghost Gum</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsK-b8ypDGAi3mSEkm4q5im9dzlH2FIA0nUz_lTc6OXUCqb-essmlJBepK9O1m-CxrSgt82CouLYEU7VUKs4YvHuXkmX78SQInLllPiNRojvtZqTg8Tzc1W8gVYjuj1J1gK0jmgrTtCQ0/s1600/IMG_0862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsK-b8ypDGAi3mSEkm4q5im9dzlH2FIA0nUz_lTc6OXUCqb-essmlJBepK9O1m-CxrSgt82CouLYEU7VUKs4YvHuXkmX78SQInLllPiNRojvtZqTg8Tzc1W8gVYjuj1J1gK0jmgrTtCQ0/s640/IMG_0862.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">More from the boat shed</span></b></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBUFl2NxJdqmeTUHHZppw1zsQ0RcexdiOik2L8nFN6wg3dn4wq2t3xCpanllbUEt6gWcTj1HrobK4T0qCpxmsWM3_4VFdLEBFoeC0BOFWJ13FXwDvRwTaPBYfoO5ZluYEC8qCoC1s3lQ/s1600/IMG_0863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBUFl2NxJdqmeTUHHZppw1zsQ0RcexdiOik2L8nFN6wg3dn4wq2t3xCpanllbUEt6gWcTj1HrobK4T0qCpxmsWM3_4VFdLEBFoeC0BOFWJ13FXwDvRwTaPBYfoO5ZluYEC8qCoC1s3lQ/s640/IMG_0863.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Just a pier</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTYJ-rv9WehKINoaG_X5LbqJ5W7OjxVpq_qYDXA1fFsiSGP_0GPAvU7TZ7709lTK2_hgfawnQnH7Z9bFOkl03yVTSZatnl5MFfBu81ATEIN-4G2HCFvgujf8ce9NtnKUL7evkE5fSrhs/s1600/IMG_0864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTYJ-rv9WehKINoaG_X5LbqJ5W7OjxVpq_qYDXA1fFsiSGP_0GPAvU7TZ7709lTK2_hgfawnQnH7Z9bFOkl03yVTSZatnl5MFfBu81ATEIN-4G2HCFvgujf8ce9NtnKUL7evkE5fSrhs/s640/IMG_0864.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Tinnies tied up on the river foreshore</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklRVvu_55KH0twEZ6JtFIbCvDbmVesekFU5LEFg1DlIteROgtuixsjIUJUuj68gt6UeGnlSCMYwxx66accfHhzSQL3w08vOIWMQgem5DS50zVnDH9F8AFV439YPlRAce2GbTXZSH-7KA/s1600/IMG_0865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklRVvu_55KH0twEZ6JtFIbCvDbmVesekFU5LEFg1DlIteROgtuixsjIUJUuj68gt6UeGnlSCMYwxx66accfHhzSQL3w08vOIWMQgem5DS50zVnDH9F8AFV439YPlRAce2GbTXZSH-7KA/s640/IMG_0865.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Peppermint Gums</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUl0WQSvML9twu9QVcZHbtuHAU61K-OEvEJcNMG9gJT5BSbIBPpVVGSc1CG9Ag74NZtorRYxDKcN9zMGEqPAbDQ2nL33vEFzeT2Aa-U7a24SJ2e7lQPWTeg3nxqD9-ufhJjtRyCAjSExs/s1600/IMG_0866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUl0WQSvML9twu9QVcZHbtuHAU61K-OEvEJcNMG9gJT5BSbIBPpVVGSc1CG9Ag74NZtorRYxDKcN9zMGEqPAbDQ2nL33vEFzeT2Aa-U7a24SJ2e7lQPWTeg3nxqD9-ufhJjtRyCAjSExs/s640/IMG_0866.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Moreton Fig Tree</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wxpigg0uyOMu08VSAy_3RhyphenhyphenOfON6bcv-S1SX6TE75P_UiGTxxXNCvCuh7nZ_pyyDrVY8pNuPV_CU1LVL0kNwmSniV-cwOMw2On6oXq86K52lg34_4VLZUhdzV9zLyJ_AyePc3KS5sVs/s1600/IMG_0870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7wxpigg0uyOMu08VSAy_3RhyphenhyphenOfON6bcv-S1SX6TE75P_UiGTxxXNCvCuh7nZ_pyyDrVY8pNuPV_CU1LVL0kNwmSniV-cwOMw2On6oXq86K52lg34_4VLZUhdzV9zLyJ_AyePc3KS5sVs/s640/IMG_0870.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>A Red Bottle Brush Gum</b></span></td></tr>
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-29995943570434943902015-07-19T10:52:00.000+02:002015-07-19T15:13:43.771+02:00Another Milestone in Margaret RiverMy gorgeous mum is back with us in Perth, on her annual sojourn across the planet to spend three months with us. An annual sojourn she began almost a decade ago. The big difference is this year, she turned 80. At 80, picking up and travelling, quite literally, as far as one can possibly imagine over 2 days and including 3 flights - one of which is in excess of 15 hours - is a very big ask, but she didn't hesitate.<br />
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My brother and sister-in-law threw her a big party in Calgary a week before she arrived, we had wished we could have been there but couldn't make it work. Instead, we've kept the party going since her arrival. <br />
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The party hit its peak in Margaret River.<br />
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Margaret River is the region about 3 hours south of Perth best known for its wine production, gourmet eating, and locally-sourced provisions. While the Margaret River region is responsible for only around 5% of Australia's total wine production, its quality is considered premium and among the best. Certainly, as a Canadian who knew little about Australia prior to my arrival, as an oenophile, even I knew of Margaret River. Most wineries in the region are boutique producers with beautifully-designed, welcoming cellar doors, respect for the land, and an attachment to Western Australian traditions.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">At the Laurance Winer</span></b>y</td></tr>
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It is also a region of magnificent sea, surf breaks, beaches, green paddocks, wildlife, caves, and people proud to maintain the local culture and charm, shunning chain stores and over development.<br />
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<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg0kgug173zrkyuOI4mdbGs82Yn_qzu6oB12uM_KhyphenhyphenJ2GWjBNzYWN7uVAKlxjif4A3wICkMwuuBySaI5M7_gNrItilcWoIB_fyftZApHvjCJbmTxCwhGCgjIKVEmdngHcHf_r2xgXR4M/s1600/_DSC2878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfg0kgug173zrkyuOI4mdbGs82Yn_qzu6oB12uM_KhyphenhyphenJ2GWjBNzYWN7uVAKlxjif4A3wICkMwuuBySaI5M7_gNrItilcWoIB_fyftZApHvjCJbmTxCwhGCgjIKVEmdngHcHf_r2xgXR4M/s640/_DSC2878.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Under Sharks, it also say "Grumpy Old Surfers"</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">We stopped in several places en route to Margaret River, to lovely terraced Yallingup, where we had lunch at the Caves House Hotel, to Cowaramup and its abundance of dairy cows and green pastures, Busselton with its astonishing kilometre-long jetty out into Geographe Bay, and beautiful coastal Dunsborough. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">For my mum's 80th, we stayed in an upscale B&B that had everything she loves: overstuffed chintz furniture, lace tablecloths, silver tea settings, sherry and port on the sideboard, fragrant roses everywhere, and Fairy Wrens and Ringnecked Parrots (known colloquially as 28s). C2 dubbed our lovely home away from home "Doily Manor". The electric blankets on cold mornings weren't bad either. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">C2 and J spent much father and son time exploring the network of limestone caves in the region: Ngilgi Cave where they did a 2-hour guided tour commando-crawling under ridges, squeezing between rocks, and feeling for blind isopods and centipedes using only their headlamps for light; and deep Giants Cave on their own. While they were discovering ancient wonders, my mum and I explored modern wonders of the Margaret River shops and cafes.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;">At the Pierro Winery</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: start;"><span style="color: black;">We also visited 4 wineries: Pierro with its attentive staff and charming cellar door, Laurance with its uniquely beautiful bottles and where J met a school mate. They disappeared in the large grounds to play while we wine tasted and admired the art and sculptured landscapes. Mad Fish was the third winery and one of my favorites to-date over our two trips to the region. The final winery was the 80th birthday gift: a tour, set tasting and lunch at magnificent Voyager E</span>state.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Laurance Winery</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Voyager Estate</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27_RkEusplX44GlJEhteVRrxiIPEt9NsRcO-WOnpc5OQX1VF4Z7UH9kuY2MY5-Byofa2pkLHO-FA-qOTBXaMQDpP2phG2TjpqZLNA95EX3IpXO4KccncKove_yJoqYpefUtRBifoGrWA/s1600/_DSC2800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27_RkEusplX44GlJEhteVRrxiIPEt9NsRcO-WOnpc5OQX1VF4Z7UH9kuY2MY5-Byofa2pkLHO-FA-qOTBXaMQDpP2phG2TjpqZLNA95EX3IpXO4KccncKove_yJoqYpefUtRBifoGrWA/s640/_DSC2800.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">We wine-tasted, J tasted the actual grape juice that went into the wine</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Voyager Estate</span></b></td></tr>
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(See last year's blog entry also about Margaret River:)<br />
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<a href="http://swiss-family-hendricks.blogspot.com.au/2014_07_01_archive.html">http://swiss-family-hendricks.blogspot.com.au/2014_07_01_archive.html</a><br />
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C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-3721252227545663882015-06-08T14:30:00.000+02:002015-07-19T11:02:01.539+02:00And now he is 12<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Twelve, 12, douze, dodici....TWELVE!
No matter how many times I say it, it still sounds like big kid numbers
and I can’t quite believe it. I could
divide it another way – 2 precious years in Canada, 5 idyllic years in
Switzerland, and 5 growing-up-fast years in Australia, but I’m not sure that
makes this number any easier to swallow.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6B_2SfxrIpYxt3h0pgrjIgYkLK_iSIgdx_cy_Td8PAGP01TS1-Gi_ICs1R4O85op3rZVgre2Qnj_UYAVuctCuNIYPlpEqM2Y0a23yryktM8SkX_OlyPGB16bxLyeuM89onow1fp6oQAM/s1600/2015+6+June+Skateboard+%252877%2529_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6B_2SfxrIpYxt3h0pgrjIgYkLK_iSIgdx_cy_Td8PAGP01TS1-Gi_ICs1R4O85op3rZVgre2Qnj_UYAVuctCuNIYPlpEqM2Y0a23yryktM8SkX_OlyPGB16bxLyeuM89onow1fp6oQAM/s400/2015+6+June+Skateboard+%252877%2529_edited.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXloKm3p0EdHjbRnjTY-IbW3VkP0a1-BoG-dgl_oQKBkN0N3oBvGZg0TfShtKrJEPFbVyp1HpJoK9QUZieRi8TFTrA2zzuPr4Sj0AgTKH0ADrVlAIshcwUNTW4c9fztRbpixgj-iC294/s1600/2015+6+June+Skateboard+%252884%2529_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXloKm3p0EdHjbRnjTY-IbW3VkP0a1-BoG-dgl_oQKBkN0N3oBvGZg0TfShtKrJEPFbVyp1HpJoK9QUZieRi8TFTrA2zzuPr4Sj0AgTKH0ADrVlAIshcwUNTW4c9fztRbpixgj-iC294/s400/2015+6+June+Skateboard+%252884%2529_edited.jpg" width="266" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Next year J will be a teenager, and he may devolve into a
grunting, testosterone-fueled, hairy man-boy but for the moment, for this very
last minute, and by the tips of his fingernails, he is hanging on to boy. Boy who still loves to spend most of his time
with us, who loves his stuffed animals, and is sufficiently afraid of
Velociraptors that two Disney “Perry the Platapus” stand guard at his bedroom door,
and a stuffed police dog, my brother gave him, stands guard on his bed. This after a day alone at the skatepark and
strolling to the shops with his mates…..fingernails I tell you.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYKBn9sgApVkste4A96VUhsGSnNPTFLzg5EIGf31FamZRu0aIC8I3PSgkYTLKVeIoDJQ5vkPgjtK-jqADcsEu7ujadKCi60qW71ZVdgqjFF9MMMyrphyphenhyphen0ZmnN1hQ4yk0gSEz0eQxuzrE/s1600/_DSC2656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYKBn9sgApVkste4A96VUhsGSnNPTFLzg5EIGf31FamZRu0aIC8I3PSgkYTLKVeIoDJQ5vkPgjtK-jqADcsEu7ujadKCi60qW71ZVdgqjFF9MMMyrphyphenhyphen0ZmnN1hQ4yk0gSEz0eQxuzrE/s640/_DSC2656.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>It's a "12" and an "!"- not too obvious from this angle</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">No party was the rule this year, but we had a handful of his
closest mates join us for a “It’s not a party”.
The loose plan, though, was all “big kid”: an afternoon at the awesome Esplanade
Youth Park skatepark in Fremantle with as many chips and soft drinks as they
could consume from my endless supply, then home for a viewing of “Fast and
Furious 6”. That few of them had seen “Fast
and Furious 1 through 5” was a non-issue as each is apparently sufficiently derivative of
the last. Easy on the wallet, and easy
on the parental patience.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I love this kid, I don’t really expect him to turn into a
grunting teenage monster. He has made a
good solid group of friends, he’s performing well in school, beginning to excel
in tennis, and looking forward to starting middle school with a core group of
really good boys in six months. I know there are
curves ahead, temptations to be weathered, and bad decisions to live with, but
I’m looking forward to every jolt in the road, and reminding him how very
special he is and how very much we love him, this leggy, lanky, shaggy-headed man-boy, hair and all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-78389443551324804992015-05-04T15:10:00.001+02:002015-05-04T15:15:18.616+02:00The Colours of the KimberleyAs part of my job, I recently travelled to the far north of Western Australia into the Kimberley region to work alongside some of our projects. It was a combination site visit, needs analysis, and evidence-gathering experience to better inform the management of our Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island small grants program. It was a remarkably enlightening, distressing, and inspiring journey, and C2 and J shared some of it with me.<br />
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The state of Aboriginal disadvantage in Australia is acknowledged and much has been published from both sides of the political and social spectrum. It is a national tragedy with few clear pathways toward really "closing the gap". I am not going to posture in this blog entry about where, how, or why consecutive governments have failed to make meaningful inroads but fresh eyes, a clear perspective, real intent, and local ownership are obviously needed. We are hoping our project is moving in that direction.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #38761d;">The start of the Kimberley's renowned Gibb River Road</span></b></span></td></tr>
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We flew up to steamy, tropical Broome at the end of the Wet and were rewarded with clear, sunny, HOT, and HUMID temperatures day after day for the week. For the first
two days, I was occupied with work and local travel while my 2 guys enjoyed
some downtime and father/son time.<br />
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On day 3, C2 and J accompanied me on the long drive east, away
from the sea, through Boab-studded plains from Broome to Derby where I had work
to do. A Boab tree, is native to the
inland Kimberley and is recognised by its unique bottle-shaped trunk. The Boab retains water in its cells so will collapse
if absent water. It is an iconic symbol
of this part of Western Australia. We
drove for several hundred kilometres of plain populated by these amazing trees
and thousands of termite hills the size of cars. It is a remote and sparsely-populated part
of the Outback, and we may have passed 20 other cars on the to-and-back
journey. We stopped at several river
crossings and Billabongs (water holes) where we had been told to watch for the
Crocodiles but they were sleeping in the heat of the day, probably just as well
as J was in a panic each time C2 and I approached the water’s edge. Time to watch Crocodile Dundee I think.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After 4 days of yarning with amazing, inspired, and dedicated
people, we turned to Cable Beach in Broome and a much needed 3-day family
holiday. Stunningly beautiful Cable
Beach did not disappoint! One of the
iconic Broome experiences is to ride camels along the beach at low tide and at
sunset. J was excited but a little
put-off when our camel, Boaz, grunted, snorted, spit, and leapt to his feet,
nearly flinging me off his back. However,
all was ultimately sorted, J mounted Boaz, and within minutes, animal-loving J
had discovered a new passion, and it was love.
Such was the love that we did it again the next evening.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;">Boaz</span>!</b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Cocoa</span></b>!</td></tr>
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As it was, technically, still part of the Wet, the water of the
Indian Ocean was still hot, about 31c and too warm to kill of the Irukandji
jellyfish, the extremely venomous variety found in the northern waters of Australia. We were very uneasy as the last sting had
been only10 days earlier, but we were ultimately coaxed into the gorgeous
azure waters by the presence of others, and by the assurances of the Surf Life
Savers who sampled the water twice a day.
And the water was….well I don’t have the words!<o:p></o:p></div>
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When we were not in the sea, we were walking the beach, collecting
shells and connecting as a family, sitting by the pool with our books (C2 did
teach J how to do backflips off the side of the pool – oy!), or sipping iced
coffees to keep the humidity at bay. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The northern Indian Ocean has some of the biggest tides in the
world, and we were fortunate to be in Broome during one of the biggest of the
year. The tide was described as 10
meters but that equates to volume displaced; in distance the tides ebbed and
flowed up to 200 meters between low and high tides. We did a kayak tour up the coast and witnessed
nature’s power of that tide as evidenced by a blow hole only viewable once or
twice a year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a perfect 3-day escape and we are eager to return as we
never had the opportunity to explore the region’s pearling history nor the war
history. Along with Darwin, Broome was
bombed during WWII. All the more reason
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-77632191270636209162015-03-14T08:25:00.003+01:002015-03-14T08:35:33.067+01:00Game of Whaaaat?C2 and I have been feeling like we really need to connect with this pop culture obsession with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_of_Thrones"><b>Game of Thrones</b></a>, so some weeks back, we started watching it. After a slow start for both of us, we really started getting it and into it. It is, at its core, a medieval adventure tale of a group of pretenders to a throne and their respective journeys toward it. Family intricacies, multiple generations, a frequently-referenced history, madness, dragons and zombies - seriously who wouldn't love it?<br />
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As for family intrigue and complex family trees, well with a University degree in history that focused on 16th to 18th century England, I could teach a master class in family intrigue and complex family trees, so following the players, and the circuitous drama between pretenders and their progeny in Game of Thrones is easy for me. C2, however, is increasingly having this reaction:<br />
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Which is only made worse by his habit of nodding off half-way through an episode for about 15 minutes (he is perpetually sleep-deprived). For reference, the main players, among several, are the Lannisters (the bad guys), the Starks (the good guys), the Targaryens (awesome), and a cast of about a thousand others.<br />
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The following exchange is an example of what is increasingly occuring between us, now that we are close to the the end of Season 3.<br />
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<u>Scene</u>: Arya, Ned Stark's daughter is asking whether magic could bring back someone who had their head cut off <span style="color: blue;">*****SPOILER ALERT**** </span>The headless one being her father, and his losing his head was kind of a MAJOR story arc in Season 1.<br />
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C2: Watching Arya's monologue, turns to me and says<span style="font-size: large;"> "<i>Who is she talking about, who lost their head?"</i></span><br />
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<u>Scene</u>: Sansa, Ned Stark's other daughter and a major character through all 3 seasons is being discussed as marriage fodder by the evil Lord Tywin Lannister. His plan to marry her off to his son Tyrion is building toward a tension-filled but clear outcome.<br />
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I pause the scene and say to C2 <span style="font-size: large;"><i>"You see what's coming right?"</i></span><br />
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C2: <i><span style="font-size: large;">"Who's Sansa? Is he the King's brother?</span>" </i>In fairness, the (former) King's brother is named Stannis, close but still....<i><br /></i><br />
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<u>Scene</u>: Loras Tyrell, the brother of ambitious Marjorie, and who has featured prominently in Season 3 is also being discussed as marriage fodder by the Lannisters<br />
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C2: <span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Which sister is Loras?</i></span>"<br />
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<u>Scene</u>: The consequences to Robb Stark are being discussed around his decision to marry the girl he loves instead of the daughter of Lord <span style="color: black;">Walder Frey to whom</span> he is strategically betrothed (I love that word). Said betrothal has been referenced extensively in Season 3 though we have not met the betrothed. The scene quickly changes to one with Marjorie Tyrell, former wife of slain King Renly. Marjorie is clearly manipulating reigning King Joffrey to marry her.<br />
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C2: "<i><span style="font-size: large;">Oh Robb was engaged to Marjorie right?"</span></i> <br />
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me: Eyeroll<br />
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<u>Scene</u>: I pause the episode during a critical moment to ensure that C2 understands that Daenerys Targaryen is the daughter of the Mad King who has been referenced frequently throughout and whose death launched the war of the pretenders to the throne, including our awesome Daenerys.<br />
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<u>Scene</u>: Catelyn Stark is talking frantically about having to get back to Bran (her young son). Bran has been featured prominently since Season 1.<br />
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C2: <i><span style="font-size: large;">"Who's Bran again?"</span> </i>shortly followed a few minutes later by <span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Daenerys is the daughter of the Mad King? Wait who was the Mad King again?"</i></span><br />
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I can assure you that with nearly every secondary character discussed, when trying to clarify a story arc for C2, is usually followed by: "<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Who is Davos?", "Who is Little Finger?", "Who is Osha?"</i>.</span><br />
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I think my absolute favorite commentary, however, was following an intimate scene between Jon Snow and Ygritte, in a cave filled with hot pools and steam and firelight. These "free people" who live north of the Wall are able to rip off their fur clothing clearly designed for those who live north of the Arctic Circle (it's very cold north of the Wall).<br />
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C2: <span style="font-size: large;">"<i>You would think that if the free people had caves with hot pools and steam baths, they might have considered living there instead of 3 feet away in bloody snow tents or trudging through blizzards like bloody penguins".</i></span><br />
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Point taken.C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-57929001823316803232015-02-09T09:59:00.000+01:002015-02-09T09:59:42.862+01:00Balance are you out there?I am sitting in my usual blogging place, the middle seat of the library table at the Alliance Française in Perth while J does his 90-minute language class. It's a typical late Perth afternoon, about 40c and a little sweltering, and as I've been straining to hear my boss on my mobile phone as she wanders in and out of traffic, there may be sweat droplets dripping down the side of my face and my silk dress feels a little sticky. Yep, just another glamorous day in the life.<br />
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Monday through Friday has been pretty full-on. It's the first time in a decade that I've been back to near full-time work. However, I have been incredibly lucky to have a supervisor who walks the walk about having a work/life balance, so this balance thing isn't feeling too elusive, it's just requiring mixing things up a little, some fine-tuning, and trying not to assume the worst when J doesn't answer his phone after 12 attempts.<br />
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The mixing it up a little has meant that my usual post school drop-off hour-long beach runs twice a week are now two 5:30 am fast jogs around the neighbourhood. Well, that hasn't been quite working physically or mentally so I decided to add a couple of early Saturday morning Attack classes with a friend two days ago, and today I could just about walk down the stairs without wincing. I'm thinking that I may try to fit in a spinning class while J is at his tennis lesson on Tuesdays, I'll see how that goes. It's that or give in to gravity for good and I'm not ready for that.<br />
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The mixing it up a little has also meant that I found myself mopping the kitchen floor at 6:00 am one day last week just because there was no other time when it was going to happen. The mixing it up also means that J is getting himself to and from school now (see above: not assuming the worst when he hasn't answered his phone after 12 attempts).<br />
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The mixing it up has also meant that a really fantastic way to start every Sunday is with a quick morning swim/float in the ocean before breakfast. Thankfully C2 and J think that's a grand idea too. Truth be told, C2 has been doing that for a while now. It also means squeezing in a glass of wine with a friend on a Friday night while our boys are playing tennis and having a sausage sizzle, but still getting home in time to watch the last hour of "Better Homes and Gardens".<br />
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Mixing it up has also meant missing Skype calls with my mum and best friend in London because the timing keeps failing us. That part is not so good. Neither is realizing how long it's been since I did my roots, or blogged, or dusted.<br />
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But I am confident that somewhere in the middle of all of the above is balance, and I think I'm getting close to it.<br />
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-219628375869728362015-01-17T09:26:00.000+01:002015-01-17T09:27:12.463+01:00A New YearIt's been over a month since I last posted, so much for good intentions. It was a full-on end of year, thick with friends, end-of-year school activities, and Christmas celebrations. That was followed by 8 flights, 5 households, and over 25,000km of travel as we embarked on our annual return to Canada, the U.S., before returning to Perth via 6 days in Melbourne. It was all great, and I should have blogged shorter and more frequently but I didn't, mea culpa.<br />
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This Christmas was joyful but tinged with tragedy as well. Not entirely unexpected but shocking nonetheless, and processing it has been a sad journey. Harder yet for a darling friend who is living the tragedy. In the yin and yang that is life, I filled my soul to the top with time spent in the company of family and dearest of friends. It was so good to reconnect, and I am enriched.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Whistler Wonderland</span></b></td></tr>
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It the taxi to the airport on the night of December 13, it felt like had just done this but it really was 12 months earlier. Is the world spinning faster, causing time to compress? We have been amazingly fortunate on our expat journey to have forced as much extended family time as we have, but now it feels like everyone is on their own new journeys. After several years where we were all moving the same direction, now I
feel a little off-balanced, as if all of our lives are moving forward and
in seemingly disparate directions. The 20-somethings are busy building their lives and spreading their wings, family are consumed with new phases and passions as their lives become more liberated and children grow up, and I worry about my mum who will be 80 this year.<br />
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I look sideways at J, and wonder who this creature with the long limbs, sassy backtalk, and nose deep in The Maze Runner young adult novel is? In my mind's eye, he is always that rambunctious pre-schooler with white-blond hair, a lisp, and never-ending need for cuddles. He is beginning his final year of primary school in two weeks, and I am mourning his fading childhood. It is a very big year for him and he will need much of me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">At the Seattle Space Needle with our great friends from Geneva</span></b></td></tr>
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Then I glance down at this Saturday afternoon activity of sifting through a manual on mental health state specifications, data collection and reporting requirements, and recognize that I am on a new journey too. For the first time in over a decade, I have returned to full-time work. Well for six months anyways before I ease back a little. Welcome to the juggling act, a couple of girlfriends have advised wryly.<br />
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On a different subject, back in November, I had said that I hoped to watch a few good films before the end of the year. Well, I've tried but so far I've only seen one really good one ('<i>Begin Again' - Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo)</i> and one pretty good one (<i>'Magic in the Moonlight' - Colin Firth and Emma Stone</i>). I've also seen a really good 7-part TV series (<i>Jane Campion's 'Top of the Lake'</i>). Any recommendations would still be appreciated.<br />
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Happy New Year all! C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-41439109170059434402014-12-08T13:10:00.002+01:002014-12-09T04:04:09.937+01:00Finding HappinessWell, I could describe it as having internet again after almost 2 weeks of not, but that would be shallow as would be sitting outside in a warm breeze with a glass of wine at 5:44 on a Monday night because J is at school camp, but let's just say I am profitez-ing (there is no perfect translation but you get the idea).<br />
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A few weeks ago, I attended a workshop called 'The Theory of the Compass and Map of Loss", a somewhat esoteric theory applicable to all but from an Aboriginal healing and connection perspective, which embraces the idea of moving through life's challenges to a place of healing and happiness. It was illuminating as has much of the Aboriginal learning and cultural corridors I have been treading to better understand and perform my job. I won't try to explain the theory and I'm not even sure I could, however, it, and several experiences in the last several months have put me on a path toward finding happiness and not in the places I necessarily expected.<br />
<br />
Ayn Rand used the term 'objectivism', <i>that the proper <span style="color: black;">moral purpose of one's life is the pursuit of one's own happiness (rational self-interest), and that the only social system consistent with this morality is one that displays full respect for individual rights embodied in laissez-faire capitalism. </span></i><span style="color: black;">I don't disagree with this principle, except for the laissez-faire capitalism part, as I believe that capitalism and wealth have a role to play in bettering the community in which we live and thrive. I have often wrestled with the idea that our moral purpose is to make ourselves happy. Is it "moral" for a person to accumulate wealth and/or experience and keep it entirely unto them without assisting those in-need, without paying it forward? Or does happiness grow from community service, from helping those who are vulnerable and legitimately in need? I lean toward a hand-up not a hand-out approach and, increasingly, the idea that for those who have much, much is expected. Think Bill and Melinda Gates, or here in Australia, think <a href="https://indigenousjobsandtrainingreview.dpmc.gov.au/about/andrew-forrest">Andrew Forrest</a>. Learning about their apolitical, non-dogmatic approaches to community have begun informing my own approaches to life and my community.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">The life that C2 and I have built is a many-chaptered story; when some chapters closed, new ones began, and each contributed to our wealth of knowledge and experience. None of it was forgotten, suppressed or ignored but all of it, the good and the bad, have shaped the people we have become, the choices we have made, and the life we are living. My work in the not-for-profit world has exposed me to horror, haunting injustice, healing, and hope. I have found that opening myself to all of it has put me on the path to happiness by bearing witness, by being part of the healing, part of a community dedicated to righting wrongs, and bringing balance to bear by our actions, no matter how small.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">My current work with the Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities has been such a learning experience, such an education, and I understand only a fraction of their 60,000 year-old story. But it has resonated profoundly with me, and I now see the world through a different lens. This new lens is causing me to become more open-eyed, open-minded, and open-hearted. I have been participating in Aboriginal cultural evenings where we sit around a fire, surrounded by spiritual grass trees and healing smoke, and led by a revered Elder, are taken on a journey, where there is joy and acceptance and balance.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;">We live in a world where the 6:00 news is endlessly depressing, and it can be overwhelming. We can't change everything, but in each of our little corners of the world, there is a place where we can make a difference, and I think that is where the beginning of happiness may lie. I am discovering balance between what I have and what I can do. I hope C2s and my influence will
inspire J to be aware that everything he does in his life matters; that
everything he will do, every fork in the road, will impact on someone
else. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;">I think two qualities need to be nurtured for balance and happiness to be achieved, (1) <b>thirst</b>, a thirst for knowledge, and experience; and (2) <b>curiosity</b>, to be open and respectful of new ideas, new places, and new experiences. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"> I'm working on both.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;"> </span> C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-49546398611374418892014-11-17T10:04:00.002+01:002014-11-17T10:23:32.876+01:00About Films, Deli Counters, and Bugs<u><b><span style="color: purple;">About Films: </span></b></u><br />
I've been thinking about films lately. If I try to recall a list of the good ones I've seen in the recent past, between, 'Godzilla', 'Pacific Rim', and 'The Lego Movie', all I can reach for is 'Midnight in Paris' or 'A Good Year', both of which I've recently re-watched for about the 10th time. We used to watch a lot of films, good ones, I don't know why we've stopped but I suspect it has something to do with our 11-year old now assuming the same bedtime hour as us on weekends.<br />
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Consequently, I am going to challenge myself to see 3 good films before the end of the year. I'm hoping to see 'Two Days One Night". If you've noticed that this is the 3rd time I've referenced a Marion Cotillard film, you're right and that would be because when I grow up, I want to be her. I also want to see 'My Old Lady', and to humour C2, I'll go to 'Interstellar', but only because it was filmed outside of Calgary and because Christopher Nolan rented my nephew's friends' house. Watch this space, I suspect, all I'll actually see will be 'Night at the Museum 2'.....for the 4th time.<br />
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Still, at the very least, I am assembling a list of those films worth my time so if you have any suggestions, throw them my way. Maybe some of them can keep me company on our long flight back to Canada at Christmas.<br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><u>About Deli Counters:</u></span></b><br />
How many of you have been intimidated to approach the deli counter at your local grocery store? At my local Woolies, the deli counter is frequently manned by a very grumpy deli guy. So fierce is this fellow, that I have started referring to him as 'Grumpy Deli Guy' and my heart sinks if I see him as I approach the counter. Here are a couple of typical exchanges:<br />
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Note for ease of translation, Grumpy Deli Guy will be referred to as GDG:<br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Exchange Example #1</span><br />
GDG: Scowl<br />
me: "Um, can I have a medium container of pitted Kalamata olives please"<br />
GDG: Heavy sigh....reaches for a small container and before I can say anything fills it.<br />
me: "Oh sorry, I guess I didn't make that clear, can I have a medium container please?"<br />
GDG: Eye roll, reaches for the medium container and dumps contents of small container into it. "Is that good enough?"<br />
me: <i>Thinking "if that was all I wanted I would have asked for the small container"</i> but instead I meekly reply "Um no, can you fill it please?"<br />
GDG: Heavy sigh, fills it part-way to the top, slaps a cover on it, hands it to me and turns away.<br />
me: I resist urge to apologize for ruining his day, and decide to leave the feta cheese for another time.<br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Exchange Example #2</span><br />
GDG: Scowl<br />
me: "Um can I have two thick slices of spicy pancetta, about this big" I demonstrate far too cheerfully with my fingers the size of the thickness I want.<br />
GDG: Heavy sigh, reaches for the mild pancetta and turns away<br />
me: "Um excuse me, I think that is the mild pancetta"<br />
GDG: "AND???"<br />
me: "Er I'd like the spicy pancetta please"<br />
GDG: "We don't have any!"<br />
me: "Er um, yes you do right beside the mild pancetta"<br />
GDG: Eye roll, scowl, he cuts me two slices of pancetta half the size I wanted and then looks at me to see if I would dare comment. I didn't.<br />
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Seriously! Is it normal to experience heart palpatations when one enters their grocery store? Do I have to give up my deli order, or save it for a different shop? C2 has a somewhat different suggestion but I suspect that it may get me removed from my favorite Woolies, so won't pursue his strategy.<br />
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<u><b><span style="color: purple;">About Bugs:</span></b></u><br />
We are approaching our first summer in Perth and have begun spending a lot of time indoor/outdoor living which has been great. We love to sit outside in the evenings and listen to the cicadas. However, indoor/outdoor living comes at a price. We first recognized that we might have a problem a couple of weeks ago whilst eating dinner outdoors with all the doors flung open, and the lights inside left on...they cast such a nice ambient glow outside. When we finally returned indoors, our ceiling looked like something out of Wild Kingdom. Fortunately, most of them lay dead on our floor the next morning, so that was nice.<br />
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Then, of course, there are the cockroaches, which J loves to pick up and stalk me with, that's nice too. There are moths the size of my hand, and huge spiders that have almost become pets (Norman and Warner so far that we were/are rather attached to). We mourned Norman's passing when he was stung by his lunch (a bee). There are crickets who you really don't want inside the house if you care to hear anything else besides their chirp, and there are stink bugs (don't ask). Last night, I noticed a rather large black helicopter roaming around the ceiling. When we finally trapped and released it (yes we still do that), it turned out to be a giant flying beetle, so that's nice too.<br />
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I guess, we'll have to forego that nice ambient glow until Fall.<br />
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<b><u><span style="color: purple;">Things I have Decided Not To Dwell On This Week:</span></u></b><br />
In no particular order:<br />
1. ISIS, ISIL or whatever that band of sociopaths want to call themselves<br />
2. Vladimir Putin<br />
3. The empty corner in my living room where Murphy used to sleep<br />
4. That the Republicans now rule Congress<br />
5. That the pair of grey Converse's I would like is 100% more expensive in Australia than in the U.S.<br />
6. That I still don't understand the game of Cricket despite living in a Cricket-mad country<br />
7. That the new version of "Do They Know it's Christmas' is really bad<br />
8. That my Christmas shopping is going no-where fast<br />
9. That Benedict Cumberbatch is engaged....not that I would have left C2 for him....still... <br />
10. That my hamstring tendonitis is managed but not gone and I will probably never run a marathon....not that I was planning to....just saying.<br />
<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-45013425129331038702014-11-03T10:07:00.000+01:002014-11-03T13:46:05.627+01:00Letting a Little Colour Back InNo bones about it, it has been a tough week since Murphy's sudden passing last Friday. However, we are coming out the other side of the initial shock and grief. I am now able to have a conversation about her without breaking down. We still miss her and her familiarity enormously, and the house is eerie without her in it. C2 has already decided we must get another dog....like now. I put the kibosh on that desire, however, as I would really like to wait a year, tick a travel box or two without the worry of animal care for the first time in 20 years. His head agrees, but the heart wants what the heart wants....so does J's.<br />
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Halloween was a good distraction and it is beginning to really catch on in Australia. People either fully embrace it or mutter about the Americanization of Australia. Some older kids probably inclined to mischief-making anyway use it as an excuse to cause problems. Fortunately, we didn't see any of that. Of course it is nearly summer here and all the kids were wandering the neighbourhood under bright sun and were done by 6:00 but that's just how we do it down under. J's school had an awesome Halloween disco later in the evening where the boys boogied while I hung back at my girlfriend's house and sipped wine.<br />
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Australians are still working out what to give as Halloween lollies and many are clearly baffled. Too much is unwrapped candy (straight into the bin) but my personal favorite this year were three dried Apricots....ewww! I think they beat the banana and packet of TimTams from two years ago.<br />
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Another great distraction was Perth's annual <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheColorRunAustralia">Swisse Color Run</a> which J and I ran yesterday along with 19,000 other runners. The Color Run is a unique concept whereby every kilometre or so, you are pelted with paint (coloured starch) in an effort to become as kaleidoscopic (is that a word?) as possible. Frankly, it's the only 5k race where I pretty much laughed from start to finish, and then danced along with thousands of others at a great post-race party. The run was around Langley Field in downtown Perth between the city and the Swan River. It was picturesque and fun and EXACTLY what J and I needed though I didn't need the reminder that J continues to run a 5K faster than me.<br />
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We were nice and clean in our Color Run kit. I couldn't convince J to lose the sweatband. Didn't matter much once we got to the race site since everyone else was wearing one too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_G8OrGB1_Dom3QDWyOyXXc01GyuPkxLvyFHppuUllkWp7NhOpayam946Q_s3OnBQa-Jl9vwdj38tTLbOWx2tvrZ7CpQdS7javQdBVpTvPS4phP-uRa007s4DIXno6Gbc5-54Ogdfjj8/s1600/IMG_0451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_G8OrGB1_Dom3QDWyOyXXc01GyuPkxLvyFHppuUllkWp7NhOpayam946Q_s3OnBQa-Jl9vwdj38tTLbOWx2tvrZ7CpQdS7javQdBVpTvPS4phP-uRa007s4DIXno6Gbc5-54Ogdfjj8/s1600/IMG_0451.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Selfie immediately post-race. I am such a cheeseball whilst J is waaaay too cool for school</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pNwHDNDei0S741SR-I7vVg9Dr1gSYDaBUPZF4m_BoqT7EwLAkU7XvlDjNgo4KphKVDsdu996_Vp-1uAqrbnHiU-ZQMt6eCldnmUcLY3uqQQoC8qs8DRT9N51dthoFaiDu7u8up7Dais/s1600/IMG_0430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pNwHDNDei0S741SR-I7vVg9Dr1gSYDaBUPZF4m_BoqT7EwLAkU7XvlDjNgo4KphKVDsdu996_Vp-1uAqrbnHiU-ZQMt6eCldnmUcLY3uqQQoC8qs8DRT9N51dthoFaiDu7u8up7Dais/s1600/IMG_0430.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The post-race dance party - yep that's J dancing!</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7R5tcLg6TQ_Yr_OqhQ8YKEmL0vkJT9CCA0Ff7beX6QxbXsjK6D75Shyphenhyphen662LjFvV9vMtzkWp19vhKT947gWAGYbhq0Q8PqnLTCWqGMrTLelS0fnPqeA7F3gDrl7reVTnx8_2f33BAcgE/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7R5tcLg6TQ_Yr_OqhQ8YKEmL0vkJT9CCA0Ff7beX6QxbXsjK6D75Shyphenhyphen662LjFvV9vMtzkWp19vhKT947gWAGYbhq0Q8PqnLTCWqGMrTLelS0fnPqeA7F3gDrl7reVTnx8_2f33BAcgE/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" height="640" width="560" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Clouds of paint</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Yes, we rode the train home looking like this!</span></b></td></tr>
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We had fun, and we were happy and that was the goal of getting through this last week.C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-10050478273227377992014-10-27T10:06:00.002+01:002014-10-27T13:04:52.190+01:00A Death in the Family<style>
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Sixteen years and one month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
month since I last blogged about her, 2 days since her wellness check at the
Vet gave her an all-clear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
month since it seemed, however improbable, that she would live forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t.</div>
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Murphy passed away very early Friday morning with our hands
and our voices her last experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had at least wanted that much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am grateful that it didn’t happen while C2 was travelling, or at the
office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful that it
didn’t happen while I was at work and she would have been alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful it didn’t happen while we
were in Canada at Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
grateful but I am grieving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
three are.</div>
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I am grieving her presence, which is so familiar to me; our
house is loud with her absence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When C2 comes downstairs in the morning, he looks at the corner of the living
room to her bed, “to make sure she’s still breathing” he used to joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That corner is conspicuously empty
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I come into the house, I
open my mouth to holler “hi Murph” then stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still think to her schedule and automatically open my
mouth to ask C2 “have you let her out to pee” at night before I
stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look to my feet as I’m
cooking or preparing food where she would always be and her absence takes my
breath away.</div>
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I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach…repeatedly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We three do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sorry if you cannot relate to the grief of losing a
much-loved animal but she was so much more than that for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She has been our constant companion through time and place, our touchstone. </span>After 16 years,
we should have been ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were
prepared but we weren’t ready.</div>
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J stayed home from school on Friday and we went for a long
walk by the river and talked and remembered and cried, and then did it
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helped, especially
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>C2 came home early since he
couldn’t keep it together at work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We went to Ikea and bought bookshelves, came home, and redecorated a
room from top to bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That got
us through that day.</div>
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The next day, we spent the afternoon at the Perth Diwali
festival, the Indian Festival of Lights, which spiritually signifies the
victory of light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance, good over evil, and
hope over despair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seemed the
right thing to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Masala Dosa
temporarily filled the hole in our stomachs.</div>
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Yesterday, we went for a long beach walk, collected shells,
and talked more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that in a
few weeks, this feeling of being kicked in the stomach will shift away from
sadness and towards recalling happy memories with a smile in my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could fast-forward to that
place.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6FIwFjCUBMUFyEP4wzH5LSYkunGjyHBuDCESrh9HHrDKB9o04QgB7LAVkoMe1HwWKKY66o4o-e-VoyVFuuYbukEO-iXS1XtK2iro8ZNGghsq97co4MnAyNqnXYEV-vUAC-b2kplN5tBw/s1600/0006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6FIwFjCUBMUFyEP4wzH5LSYkunGjyHBuDCESrh9HHrDKB9o04QgB7LAVkoMe1HwWKKY66o4o-e-VoyVFuuYbukEO-iXS1XtK2iro8ZNGghsq97co4MnAyNqnXYEV-vUAC-b2kplN5tBw/s1600/0006.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">It was love at first sight for both of them</span></td></tr>
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The last thing I said to her before she died was to “go find
Sam”, her beloved Golden Retriever friend, and equally loved dog of our friends
Marc and Nathalie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I choose to
believe that after leaving us, her indomitable spirit found his, and that they are together
in Fish Creek Park in Calgary playing and chasing each other as they once
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's where she walked with me every day the summer J was born, sitting at my feet at Annie's Cafe sharing my muffin, and whimpering at the mocking squeaks of the Prairie Dogs. That's where she swam in the river, climbed hills, played in the snow, and mountain-biked with us. That’s where we’ll spread her
ashes so that’s where she can stay.</div>
C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-84830663002867115862014-10-10T17:17:00.000+02:002014-10-10T17:56:49.451+02:00A New Job, Mental Health, and School Holidays....is why it's been a month since I last posted, in spite of my best intentions. My free time has been so limited, in fact, that I fully expect to take two days to write this relatively short post, between ignoring the dusty tumbleweeds drifting by, finding time to have a shower, collecting J from tennis camp, and trying to spend quality time with him since school holidays are usually full of precious JAM (J and mum) moments.<br />
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Righto, so back to the beginning, a month ago I started a new job, an NGO - perfect! New field (mental health) and much to learn in short time; I love a challenge so still perfect! Part-time - perfect, However, part-time has morphed into near full-time at the moment which would ordinarily be fine, however has been made more complicated by (a) my mum was in her final three weeks with us (b) J has two weeks of school holidays and (c) C2 is in the USA - oy!<br />
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This last month has been about trying to skill up very fast on the basic principles and statistics of the current mental health crisis in Australia, trying to skill up equally fast so that I can work respectfully with the Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities who are key stakeholders in my project, trying to make my mum's last three weeks with us not just about doing our washing and making our dinners, and reminding J that he really does have a loving and present mother. Toss into the middle of that, a 3-day trip to Sydney (completely awesome) to accompany my mum part-way back to Canada, and well, it's been quite a month!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: blue;">The Sydney opera house....and a pirate ship?</span></b></td></tr>
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I can cope with my current chaos because I know that balance is around the corner; that sweet spot where my brain, body, and soul are fully engaged and there is still milk in my refrigerator. For the moment, that symmetry is elusive, but I know it's close. At least the chaos is helping me not notice that my mum has returned to Canada.<br />
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One of the highlights during the school holidays was reclaiming our old annual J-Day tradition. On J-Day, J chooses all meals and activities which not supposed to cost <strike>any</strike> much money. This year started with a waffle breakfast, followed by a trip into the city to our favorite sushi restaurant. J and I can do an impressive amount of damage at a sushi train! J bought a new toy at Target (he paid) and I bought some artisinal rock candy on Hay Street (I paid). Home-made chicken soup was the dinner request. It was a JAM-filled day which ended with a 4-hour Skype call/virtual playdate with his best mate from Geneva while I binge-watched Season 3 of "Once Upon a Time" on Netflix.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: blue;">Our sushi consumption, why yes those are all our plates, impressive right?</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>Geneva calling....still best mates</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: blue;">Chicken soup</span></b></td></tr>
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On another subject, for those of you who stay awake at night wondering just how far Perth is from North America, J and I had 2 days and 2 full nights' sleep while C2 was traveling from Perth to Gillette, Wyoming this week....seriously. I cannot tell you how excited I am for our journey to Canada this Christmas which will be our first from Perth. It promises to be similarly grueling, dang, I knew there had be a price for living in paradise. C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-59625160467247965552014-09-08T12:59:00.001+02:002014-09-08T14:19:29.903+02:00SixteenI 'm unsure what more I can say about my darling 16-year old creaky girl, now in the twilight of her doggy life. I have blogged about her and our relationship with her several times. She is a special girl but a very old one now having turned 16 this past weekend.<br />
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Dogs have been treated very differently in all of the places we have lived. In Canada, they are typically kept indoors because of the cold climate, and generally considered part of the family. As Murphy was young whilst there, her preferred place was on the corner of our green sofa prior to retiring to our bed at night.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Christmas 2003, J was 6-months old and Murphy was 5 years old</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Murphy's green sofa</b></span></td></tr>
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In Geneva, dogs are revered and accepted in cafes, restaurants, and (gasp) high end shops. Still it was rare that we took Murphy to a restaurant because she has always been ruled by her nose and she would consequently visit other tables when our attention was elsewhere. In her middle age, her preferred place was on our white sofa prior to retiring to our bed at night.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCX9IgdWlewzaQAvcoDrUYXYDaR-LsjeFrzMg57bG5NnfoCQfg2QIDblxcPfthgdKakXhfRujJchGZz3b-fkySiZC-nHPj1xqrqcJ5UNbAHX5WxzsCps7LFaqzCxiOJ3CHJ_eVUccESvE/s1600/DSC_0268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCX9IgdWlewzaQAvcoDrUYXYDaR-LsjeFrzMg57bG5NnfoCQfg2QIDblxcPfthgdKakXhfRujJchGZz3b-fkySiZC-nHPj1xqrqcJ5UNbAHX5WxzsCps7LFaqzCxiOJ3CHJ_eVUccESvE/s1600/DSC_0268.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>Murphy's white sofa</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Young Murphy</span></b></td></tr>
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Now we are in Australia, where dogs are expected to remain outdoors, where finding holiday accommodation that accept dogs (of course she comes with us, why would you even ask???) is a challenge, and it's generally considered cruel to keep a dog in the city (seriously???). In her old age, her preferred place is on her doggy bed and it's where she stays at night too since arthritis has halted her stair-climbing, and age-induced night terrors have made her prefer the kitchen with several lights left on to the dark of our bedroom.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihK9yO3F_yu84OOplNvuAFiIjMXQXgAImihVLROjdapZsD6Lv5IDz9CIi2HhA4bo9_RZMjsDnPRAbuD9nVeZbf0AVIHXWJRxJFp0xmAiE_WrQDRFxiowUecQAiu_9hLpwsMSHN70Pp6ig/s1600/DSC_0538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihK9yO3F_yu84OOplNvuAFiIjMXQXgAImihVLROjdapZsD6Lv5IDz9CIi2HhA4bo9_RZMjsDnPRAbuD9nVeZbf0AVIHXWJRxJFp0xmAiE_WrQDRFxiowUecQAiu_9hLpwsMSHN70Pp6ig/s1600/DSC_0538.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">12-year old Murphy at Apollo Bay</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="background-color: white;">14-year old Murphy in Melbourne</span></span></b></td></tr>
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It has been heart-wrenching stewarding her through this part of her life. She is not the same dog she was either physically or emotionally. Her bones ache, her knees hurt, and her snout is completely white. She has experienced a handful of age-related seizures that shake her confidence. She is nearly blind and deaf, her eyes weep (we've nicknamed her Alice Cooper), and her teeth are ground low. She no longer cares to cuddle as it is hurts her bones and skin. She is too weak to jump on the sofa or to walk very far or very fast.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">15-year old Murphy last month in Margaret River</span></b></td></tr>
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So....you ask why? Because, she still finds joy in greeting us every morning with a whack of her tail. Because, she still thrills to the myriad of smells her Labrador nose unfailing leads her to. Because, she loves to eat and spins in circles of excitement before every meal. Because she stares expectantly at me until I give her a cookie after every short walk. Because she still remembers when we eat Salmon that she gets the Salmon skins, or Grandma's apple core, or the odd watermelon rind. Because she couldn't get to her birthday pancake fast enough yesterday. Because she is still happy to be near wherever we are. Because neither of us are letting go yet.<br />
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-28859142633904573912014-08-25T11:31:00.000+02:002014-08-25T13:55:54.272+02:00Bonjour Full Circle!I speak French, did I ever mention that? The Bienvenue in the blog header might have been a hint. I think I speak French pretty well although there is puh-lenty of room for improvement. I grew up in Quebec, the French-speaking province of Canada, with a father who's first language was French. But here's the thing, he never spoke to me in French and I was educated entirely in English. A most unfortunate decision.<br />
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Culturally, my youth was representative of Canada's two solitudes. I learned basic French at school, however, all of my social experience was again entirely in English. At the time, it was unclear to me what an incredible gift bilingualism is, and it was only when I went to a bilingual College (in Quebec, we attend College or CEGEP for 2-3 years prior to entry into University) that I began regretting the lack of attention to my second language.<br />
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The subsequent years were spent studying and working in an English-language University, and with the exception of a handful of friends and acquaintances, interacting entirely in English. The language wars raged in Quebec during those years, with Bill 101 and Bill 22 the rights of the English language diminished, and society fractured through separation referendums. While I fully believed, and continue to believe to this day, in the distinct character of the province and the imperative of protecting the French language in a sea of English, I could never understand separation as a means of achieving those goals. Ultimately, fatigued by the language wars, and its economic and social cost, we decamped to Alberta. During our 8 years in Calgary, my French language skills were rarely exercised.<br />
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But here is where things get interesting. When we moved to Geneva in 2005, J was 2. Geneva is in the French-speaking part of Switzerland and C2 and I were delighted to settle into this culturally and linguistically-rich part of Europe. We resisted connecting with other Canadian or American groups deciding instead to integrate as much as possible with our neighbours and fellow villagers. We sent J to the local French school where for the first year, all he said was "oui" (yes) and "regard-moi" (look at me), and we seized the opportunity to become as bilingual as possible. <br />
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My language skills with the help of tutoring improved dramatically and rapidly. Within a couple of years both J and I were functionally bilingual. By the time we left Geneva for Melbourne in 2010, I was determined that neither of us would lose our skills. There was one primary school in Melbourne that offered an innovative bilingual French program for native speakers. I <strike>stalked</strike> stayed in regular contact with the principal in the weeks before our move, and we ultimately received acceptance for J. The next 3 years were amazing. J's language acquisition and cultural appreciation for the language never flagged despite only speaking English outside of school. Our entire social network was Franco-Australian so we were never very far away from anything French.<br />
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We resisted moving to Perth, even though it was clear that we should have been here from the beginning, in large part because of our commitment to J's language acquisition. He worked hard to earn those skills and they remain a high family priority. However, we did come to Perth four months ago. Where am I writing this epistle to bilingualism? At the Alliance Française de Perth, the language and cultural epicentre of all things French in most major cities around the world.<br />
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In English-speaking Perth, J goes to after-school French school once a week, just like my Hebrew-, Greek-, and Italian-speaking friends did when I was a child. I come once a week to a conversation class, and we all speak exclusively French at home on Mondays. It's not perfect but I hope it will suffice. I remind J every Monday as we walk into the Alliance, that one day he will thank me for insisting he speak French. Maybe then we will move back to Quebec.C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-16580388095328678052014-08-17T09:17:00.001+02:002014-08-18T03:42:40.885+02:00Exercise for Everybody!It's no secret that exercise is a big part of our lives. I principally do it to indulge my well-documented Tim Tam addiction, but the endorphin high doesn't hurt either. We've managed to include J in many of our activities and he does love the outdoors, running on the beach, climbing dunes and hills, hiking, and bushwalking.<br />
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Last weekend, we went on a bushwalk with our neighbours in the Yanshep National Park, about 50km north of Perth. The Australian flora is always a treat, we were surrounded by Gum trees off all sorts, Tea trees, and gorgeous blooming Wattle.<br />
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It was a glorious Winter day to bushwalk 12.5k though my feet didn't feel so glorious 4.5 hours later!<br />
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We really didn't expect this Croc to leap out of the bush at poor J. He managed to fight it off thankfully.<br />
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Gum trees galore!<br />
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Deep in conversation, probably about something Minecraft-related.<br />
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Then we saw this fella, we were terribly impressed to see him, but I don't think the feeling was mutual. <br />
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Meanwhile, it is important that my mum continue to exercise in order to maintain good health whilst visiting us down under. She's been working very hard!<br />
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-84440079027583313482014-08-11T16:12:00.000+02:002014-08-11T16:12:33.612+02:00FROZEN in PerthWinter in Western Australia, how do I explain it? Let me step back a minute.<br />
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I grew up in Montreal and my clearest recollections of Winter were salt-stained boots, freezing toes, snow plows, snow drifts taller than me, digging my car out, and slipping on the glacier of uneven ice that thawed and refroze above the Guy-Concordia metro station. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">Seriously!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">No exaggeration!</span></td></tr>
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After leaving Montreal, we spent nearly 8 years in that Winter capital Calgary. My <strike>blocked-out</strike>
clearest recollections are taking Murphy out for a final evening walk
and near flash-freezing, skiing at minimum temperatures of -20c, and
planes being delayed due to long queues for de-icing. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">Ah the joys of air travel during Canadian Winters</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">OK, Winter does have some charms (Chateau Lake Louise, Alberta)</span></td></tr>
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Moving on, we had 5 years of Winter in Geneva, a serious improvement over Canadian Winters. Skiing at normal temperatures, few blizzards, but we still had that northern blast known as "La Bise" to contend with which could whip the Lake into a frenzy and render cars and benches into instant ice sculptures.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">The effects of La Bise in Geneva</span></td></tr>
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Melbourne for 3 years was again an improvement, but I still wore boots and a winter jacket; we still used our fireplace....a lot. It just never snowed and I never wore gloves.<br />
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Now we have arrived in Perth where central heating is rare, where everyone uses an exterior clothes line, not a dryer, yet the Winter rain comes down in sheets, and the wind whips stinging water into your eyes, and an umbrella will not prevent a drenching. Clothes stay wet and soggy on the line waiting for a dry day between storms. We sleep under our Canadian-weight duvet (called a doona here), and wear Uggs as slippers, as they're supposed to be worn.<br />
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All of this Winter fun is feted in the city for two weeks in July known as Perth's Winter Wonderland.<br />
It is celebrated with outdoor ice-skating venues (where the ice is half-melted), an artificial snow ramp for tobogganing, artificial snow balls being launched into the air to the squeals of children who have never known the joys of -30. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">J at Perth's Winter Wonderland last month</span></td></tr>
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In fact, Winter is sufficiently regarded in these parts that J's class recently presented a performance of "Frozen". J was the King, I think he looks very kingly...even if he did send Elsa to her room for 10 years.<br />
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All of this lasts....about five weeks...then Winter is over, O...V...E...R, as in good-bye rain, hello warm sun on my face, good-bye heavy duvet, hello crazy 11-year olds swimming in the ocean waves (it is still technically Winter), and welcome back shorts and t-shirts.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">Cottesloe Beach last Saturday</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">J and his mate T braving the Winter waves</span></td></tr>
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That's how I explain Winter in Perth.C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-25533169090480644642014-07-28T15:05:00.000+02:002014-07-28T15:05:39.582+02:00Mom, Margaret River, and Mea CulpaI know it's been a month since I last posted, mea culpa! My gorgeous mom joined us three weeks ago for her annual pilgramage from Calgary to her far far away family. It is completely amazing having her here, just sliding into our life without judgment, not to mention that every time I turn around, my dishes are done.<br />
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It always takes a couple of weeks to get our rhythm right, the pacing between the things an 11-year old wants to do, the things a spontaneous husband decides must be done now, and the things a near 80-year old can do, requires patience and a little ingenuity. Somewhere in the pursuit of balance, blogging got lost but I'm back on track now.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;">Margaret River Chocolate Company</span></span></b></td></tr>
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J was beginning his Term 2 break when mum arrived and we spent the first week happily showing her a little of Perth and Fremantle. However between her jetlag and the rapid fire "here's the Indian Ocean", "there's Cottesloe Beach", "here's the Swan River", "that's a Kookaboora" commentary, I'm not sure how much she took in. The second week, we drove south to Margaret River for a little family holiday. The Margaret River region, for you non-oenophiles, is arguably Australia's premier wine-growing region, renowned for its superior wine, market-fresh produce, gourmet restaurants, and world-class surf breaks and beaches along the spectacular south Western Australian coast.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The paddocks at our little house</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Murphy loving all the open space</span></b></td></tr>
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Margaret River was an inspired and perfect fit for our varied age groups. We three adults dragged J to four cellar doors over the week, he brought a book, we took our time, he drank tea and ate scones, we tasted wine, and all were content. The four wineries we visited each offered a fantastic location, as elegant and evolved wine production as I have witnessed in France, with a new world attitude that was refreshing. The wineries for reference were: Cullen Wines, Vasse Felix Wines, Voyager Wines, and Cape Mentelle Wines. There are dozens of other wineries still to be discovered in our future in the region.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Prevally</span></b></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHnEsX8-xHGhFdXLPTPePnmL2PFOni4q_eCPgizdrI3PtkFVhqwEddOQp6qggz41km6UwxiW-9eDI7goO2zN5ZAwCdDbIh0Qss9-XqDVVBArFm4L5h3mgWZT3WqkaJltYlp-qfTVVxzg/s1600/DSC_1256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHnEsX8-xHGhFdXLPTPePnmL2PFOni4q_eCPgizdrI3PtkFVhqwEddOQp6qggz41km6UwxiW-9eDI7goO2zN5ZAwCdDbIh0Qss9-XqDVVBArFm4L5h3mgWZT3WqkaJltYlp-qfTVVxzg/s1600/DSC_1256.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnokHfk8LzXntS8nNaswDMPS-LwO2SrG4ZkhWltzFmRFNRx7sdXR-NmXuPIBvqTBls1QiOPMRWEhytCG341beZ2l_nMQDBufvth4e8RkxqXaWievxguEqTyrNEeihW7iQnmJHzwHfTRE/s1600/DSC_1299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgnokHfk8LzXntS8nNaswDMPS-LwO2SrG4ZkhWltzFmRFNRx7sdXR-NmXuPIBvqTBls1QiOPMRWEhytCG341beZ2l_nMQDBufvth4e8RkxqXaWievxguEqTyrNEeihW7iQnmJHzwHfTRE/s1600/DSC_1299.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a><br />
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In addition, our little rented house had paddocks leading to the actual Margaret River. We quickly adopted an early morning routine of strolling with Murphy through the green paddocks filled with fields of Peace Lillies, Kangaroos, and Wallabies down to the river. We'd leave mum at home with an extra cup of coffee while we explored and played. Murphy, in spite of her very advanced age, thoroughly loved it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f5anDDIRM44d-SVkshmY79URsi_0gwYwWotQeDuzSgmTQfIa6OI9xJj9mbRBDDHk8pbT7ReGLCsRV_rztqlGen4hf5y1xvLyHWgLMWiNy_URWBmjc5pzM6wPNGQfGQqJF3BnXyq6kEg/s1600/DSC_1377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_f5anDDIRM44d-SVkshmY79URsi_0gwYwWotQeDuzSgmTQfIa6OI9xJj9mbRBDDHk8pbT7ReGLCsRV_rztqlGen4hf5y1xvLyHWgLMWiNy_URWBmjc5pzM6wPNGQfGQqJF3BnXyq6kEg/s1600/DSC_1377.JPG" height="366" width="640" /></a></div>
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Twice we deposited mum for a few hours in the township of Margaret River while we went caving. There are dozens of caves in the region formed by fragile limestone along the spine of the Leeuwin Naturaliste National Park. Some have been developed as show caves, well lit and with relatively easy access in and out of the deep caverns. We visited Lake Cave which was a spectacular example.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmHguP_twyuU239sr_6YvjcwJTtGNu0geIMSEsktqoY-quhcLOjyWKP2g0Ujss8xhh8k2eZwAKnH6TOnWejw9pu0RzfsYdQDjU7pxuSnv62OXU1Ja-4jilzXIVlAVD9n4cdCcMVKesJk/s1600/DSC_1315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmHguP_twyuU239sr_6YvjcwJTtGNu0geIMSEsktqoY-quhcLOjyWKP2g0Ujss8xhh8k2eZwAKnH6TOnWejw9pu0RzfsYdQDjU7pxuSnv62OXU1Ja-4jilzXIVlAVD9n4cdCcMVKesJk/s1600/DSC_1315.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Lakes Cave, Margaret River</span></b></td></tr>
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Later in the week, C2, J, and I ventured into Giants Cave, a VERY different experience. In this case, we had to follow a barely lit trail through dark descents, ascend steep fixed ladders, and squeeze through tiny spaces between rocks. Not for the faint-hearted but a great deal of fun. It's always exhilarating to try something never experienced before.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_25zUoFZZN7vigXqxNofuLaIFvTchhJFuftCjgZv9W0y0W1fLqsrdb4RR-W7MFYrAmlJapdJecIFpC4yy7iKj_LFJMX5dvmgzhUDHq9Yy8LCatSNi4Tc-lHt47WuQv24Ey3mwoJjLZY/s1600/IMG_0676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_25zUoFZZN7vigXqxNofuLaIFvTchhJFuftCjgZv9W0y0W1fLqsrdb4RR-W7MFYrAmlJapdJecIFpC4yy7iKj_LFJMX5dvmgzhUDHq9Yy8LCatSNi4Tc-lHt47WuQv24Ey3mwoJjLZY/s1600/IMG_0676.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Thinking this might'nt have been such a great idea after all</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmD0Z-q4ebLTW4WBqpJDm81GOAYvhIiGD47kTqvrOftPBCb16mdvXBppZJzZJKZOttFAwWItOZmwE0vkh38-ZXGEEujc-QU6-4tDbsnBy6tC4fIBKueBvZIkPGXKB2DvHDv_RVNFyr50/s1600/IMG_0678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlmD0Z-q4ebLTW4WBqpJDm81GOAYvhIiGD47kTqvrOftPBCb16mdvXBppZJzZJKZOttFAwWItOZmwE0vkh38-ZXGEEujc-QU6-4tDbsnBy6tC4fIBKueBvZIkPGXKB2DvHDv_RVNFyr50/s1600/IMG_0678.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Yes, we had to squeeze through the tiny opening at the top of the ladder</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The exit....such as it was</span></b></td></tr>
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On our final day, we drove to the extreme south-western point of Australia to Cape Leeuwin where the mighty Southern Ocean collides with the Indian Ocean, and where Humpback, Southern Right, Minke, and even Blue Whales pause to rest on their annual lengthy journey north to more tropical waters where they give birth. During this time of year, whales can be sighted from the beaches near Augusta and from the point, but we joined a small adventure boat heading out to open ocean to sight the pods. Three boats headed out together in 3 directions to look for the pods, and we all had plenty of long-range sightings.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Cape Leeuwin, where the Southern Ocean collides with the Indian Ocean</span></b></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYfGVFhg6hae0-SzivxjjSGPgNbGy-FoQCjXdAJSouvfJIi5iTpAJOQmESpOwTYxFWfCfxRKjge1s76_ufuC_85T1tdJtx_63BSPtoiL0QglV4kf5A6szgc_ixztyXJQGj3sjdNiPKVM/s1600/DSC_1429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYfGVFhg6hae0-SzivxjjSGPgNbGy-FoQCjXdAJSouvfJIi5iTpAJOQmESpOwTYxFWfCfxRKjge1s76_ufuC_85T1tdJtx_63BSPtoiL0QglV4kf5A6szgc_ixztyXJQGj3sjdNiPKVM/s1600/DSC_1429.JPG" height="278" width="640" /></a></div>
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After 90 minutes, two of the boats returned to Augusta. Our crusty captain, however, knew the pod was close, possessed an amazing and respectful understanding of whale behaviour, and we were rewarded with an amazing show of Humpbacks in the natural environment. The females with their protective male escorts (not their mates), flirty other young males trying to make an impression and the intricate social dance they perform. It was memorable for all of us. Mum even saw a Great White Shark which was following a pod of Common Dolphins beside our boat. She was at the back of the boat alone with a crew member while the rest of us were at the front watching the whales.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2ZrCy4psxTraJspSk6zntffEx8r87P5ZjdLkGDy7rKr-m40OqcLPQ0m_kaORp1ofSq5nE4LUGJn7Ueq_5Pj4joDNG7KFVIMVMPjWTj-qoBkT6M1L68-Pbgj9DCLYuX3BujxgUQBp8vw/s1600/DSC_1483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2ZrCy4psxTraJspSk6zntffEx8r87P5ZjdLkGDy7rKr-m40OqcLPQ0m_kaORp1ofSq5nE4LUGJn7Ueq_5Pj4joDNG7KFVIMVMPjWTj-qoBkT6M1L68-Pbgj9DCLYuX3BujxgUQBp8vw/s1600/DSC_1483.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">Common Dolphins</span></b></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCaYG0FEPbyghgy9Q_7CAcACwDIaICAmrhbU41sf-nIZaEjujEVpjXwsLRGDXJ9fI3RtvbTzg_7h9k4xYnhCZKv4JYyRa18qKY4wvWPO3Sk-LahD6nlKoIkVCNdKNwjBgdA1Ir0gMPAM/s1600/DSC_1510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCaYG0FEPbyghgy9Q_7CAcACwDIaICAmrhbU41sf-nIZaEjujEVpjXwsLRGDXJ9fI3RtvbTzg_7h9k4xYnhCZKv4JYyRa18qKY4wvWPO3Sk-LahD6nlKoIkVCNdKNwjBgdA1Ir0gMPAM/s1600/DSC_1510.JPG" height="268" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: purple;">The magnificent Humpbacks</span></b></td></tr>
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C2's photography was just a little amazing on this trip.<br />
<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-2816535016961381022014-06-26T14:39:00.001+02:002014-06-27T03:14:34.892+02:00NamasteI'm on a bit of a fitness kick these days. The move from Melbourne to Perth was consuming and emotional and there might have been a few too many Tim-Tams eaten for comfort. I've always exercised regularly but in the last year or so I've been battling injuries, time, and Tim-Tams.<br />
<br />
Anyway...since arriving in Perth, I have been running regularly taking advantage of the cool Western Australian winter. People tell me that once the long summer arrives, it is too hot to run, even in the mornings. However, as my injuries are still nagging, I'm only running twice a week. To fill the gaps, and to complement running, I decided to try Bikram Yoga.<br />
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Now a couple of qualifiers. I've done yoga regularly for two years. First, I practiced Ashtanga, the cardio-intensive yoga and really enjoyed it. For the last 6 months or so before leaving Melbourne, I moved to Vinyasa Flow yoga which focused on strength and completely hated it. Flow's intensity wasn't great for my injuries plus it was stinking hard!<br />
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So now Bikram. Let me describe Bikram: it is hot yoga, 26 poses plus two breathing exercises always performed in exactly the same order over 90 minutes in a hot room heated to 40c with 40% humidity. Yup, you read that right. My only intimate knowledge with the practice was through my sister-in-law who tried it once and is still traumatized. However, there was an elegant Bikram studio close to my house in Perth and they were offering a one-month special so I decided to try. I was warned upon arrival that I would be <strike>miserable</strike> uncomfortable for the first 4-5 sessions, would likely feel light-headed, dizzy, and/or nauseated and that I should pace myself carefully. Wow, where do I sign up! I've now been practicing for over two months.<br />
<br />
This is what Bikram feels like to me.<br />
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1. An utterly non-relaxing form of yoga since it is practiced in intense heat and under intense lighting. There are no flickering candles nor soft chanting. The teacher talks non-stop describing every pose in great detail, and not in a gentle, soothing voice. Throughout the first two sessions, the running soundtrack in my head was "shut up shut up shut up shut up", but apparently it's the Bikram way.<br />
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2. Bikram smells. Depending on the size of the hot box, there can be 40-50 very sweaty bodies and feet, dong very strenuous exercise. The smells, can be, upon occasion, overwhelming, especially if a glass or two too many were consumed the night before.<br />
<br />
3. Bikram is hot, like crazy hot. This morning, for example, I was lying on my mat for the 10 minutes or so that we acclimatise before beginning, and all I could think was "if I was lying on a beach, this would be the time I'd think it was time to jump in the water since I'm overheating". The practice hadn't even started yet.<br />
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4. Bikram is counter-intuitive. Every other form of yoga I have ever practiced has counselled "soft knees, soft knees". Bikram insists on locked knees. The goal for everyone of the 26 poses is to complete it with locked knees, like concrete-locked.<br />
<br />
5. You have no idea how much the human body can sweat until you do Bikram, seriously NO IDEA.<br />
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Given all of the above, you'd think Bikram would be awful, but here's the thing; it's awesome, and inspiring, and requires such intense focus to keep everything together: mind, balance, form, breath, that the 90 minutes is over almost before I realize it. I have never felt more flexible or strong, I am able to bend and move in ways I haven't been able to in years. My injuries, while not healed, are managed and not bothering me during my runs. I have lost weight, and the bits around my middle that I've been eying suspiciously are disappearing fast. That being said, I can't say that I love the whole experience while I'm in the middle of it but, wow, the post-practice endorphin high is amazing and seductive.<br />
<br />
Don't judge it till you try it....4 or 5 times. NamasteC.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-89187169676511882102014-06-06T10:56:00.004+02:002014-06-06T15:12:58.536+02:00Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum TreeRemember that old song? It's one of those ditties that EVERYONE can automatically rhyme off, up there with "London Bridge is Falling Down". Of course all those years ago when the words came humming off my lips, I didn't have a clue who or what a Kookaburra was or a Gum Tree or why it was laughing at me. It was as enigmatic as a jolly swagman, a billabong or a Coolibah tree (note to self: break down Waltzing Matilda in a future posting).<br />
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So here's the thing, now that I live in Australia, I sure as heck know what Gum Trees are (synonymous with Eucalyptus) because they really are everywhere, and whilst living in Melbourne, I did hear the occasional distant laughter of a Kookaburra and was completely charmed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNFWkTVTTmImZ3Wr0goHHnUjm-_VpsIxZOIVdfwPWdaWuzxQyjt5CGzyRD0ciDDvWUR5NeFkH_PlSHsshulpxEbz4UI4QysIyxB_-Q-hlLlh-hzuTDAZRx_wfxgiUjRvzfg7DkYtsEks/s1600/kooka2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieNFWkTVTTmImZ3Wr0goHHnUjm-_VpsIxZOIVdfwPWdaWuzxQyjt5CGzyRD0ciDDvWUR5NeFkH_PlSHsshulpxEbz4UI4QysIyxB_-Q-hlLlh-hzuTDAZRx_wfxgiUjRvzfg7DkYtsEks/s1600/kooka2.jpg" height="393" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">Laughing Kookaburra</span></td></tr>
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However, Kookaburras seem to be a primary resident in Perth and while their loud call is supposed to echo human laughter, let me tell you they don't so much laugh as chortle, chuckle, snicker, whoop, crack up, shriek, and scream like a howling pack of monkeys at their preferred time of day ....6:30am ...exactly....outside my bedroom window. <br />
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Here's another thing I bet you didn't know about Kookaburras. They are the snobs of the aviary set. When looking at them and encouraging them to do their thing, they just stare off into space, refuse to make eye contact, show minimal movement, and utterly and completely ignore you. Until of course you have stalked off, then they chortle at you like crazy monkeys.<br />
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If you could put an air bubble on top of this fellow, I just know he would be saying "<i><b>I'm not listening, I'm not listening</b></i>" or <i><b>"Go away, you're boring me, I'm not a circus monkey"</b></i>, Too right, just a crazy monkey!<br />
<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-24444774176731535462014-05-19T14:21:00.000+02:002014-05-23T05:52:26.938+02:00A Milestone Birthday<style>
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Hiding in denial has done little to change the fact that I
had a milestone birthday yesterday, a big one….a really, really big
one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am of two minds about
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In one way, I feel heartache that
the best of my youth and vigour are apparently behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This feels particularly true when I
look too closely in the mirror or lament the southerly movement of a few body
parts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other hand, as my
darling husband tells me, “it’s better than the alternative”….you know being
dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, he is pragmatic, my
husband.</div>
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I thought long and hard about how to mark this
milestone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A family trip to Bali?
(too politically unstable at the moment), a big bash? (anyone who knows me
knows I HATE being center of attention so definitely not),<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a small bash? (well we’re still working
on building a new social network in Perth, and I cried my way through the last
one in Melbourne, so no), dinner at a fancy, expensive restaurant? (nah). </div>
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Then a couple of weeks ago, Child Wise invited me to give a
talk at a fundraiser/awareness-raising event on the issue of child sexual abuse
and child trafficking, hosted by a small NGO in Perth called ‘Bird on a
Wire” on my actual birthday day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end,
this seemed a more fitting way to remember this personal milestone whilst at
the same<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>time bringing attention
to an issue close to my heart in this place I now call home. </div>
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After the event yesterday afternoon, I came home to a bottle
of Moet & Chandon on ice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J
was out for a walk with neighbours so C2 and I just sat, talked, sipped our
champagne and reflected on the life we have had together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He followed this up with an amazing dinner
of grilled Swordfish, Caponata, grilled Asparagus, and grilled bread, all my
favorite foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That husband of
mine is one fine cook!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibpmqP9wFDhQDvIK5tZMfV1zAcuyyPk2rqoQr8h6Y7yryKGVYvWlQ7RYwO2WcYfRai1BQHfSPtB8ON1iT_jRka3MHSO2xIi5Z6VOqGXuufe-BE9fARbR8CpF9VsSjCTh1MyPsdiGhBalU/s1600/DSC_1135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibpmqP9wFDhQDvIK5tZMfV1zAcuyyPk2rqoQr8h6Y7yryKGVYvWlQ7RYwO2WcYfRai1BQHfSPtB8ON1iT_jRka3MHSO2xIi5Z6VOqGXuufe-BE9fARbR8CpF9VsSjCTh1MyPsdiGhBalU/s1600/DSC_1135.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">J took this one and though blurry I think it captures the spirit of my birthday evening</span></td></tr>
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Today, I have found myself continuing to reflect on my
life,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I count myself remarkably fortunate
that while there have been challenges along the way and my <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>choices have not been without cost, I
have had, to put it simply, a bloody brilliant life and I am so grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXPIEwhW5SM437Bbx_GOMQDk34CHqPuw9XbactFWPu2og5-WO8C69eYIkfRra69QPLhu1ow40af9wvqEF9kL5FLwI0TRwNyy2x8quNeCZlFhmmLveirsAY91z-sbMCt49Bb0gc2hyphenhyphenmEg/s1600/DSC_1107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXPIEwhW5SM437Bbx_GOMQDk34CHqPuw9XbactFWPu2og5-WO8C69eYIkfRra69QPLhu1ow40af9wvqEF9kL5FLwI0TRwNyy2x8quNeCZlFhmmLveirsAY91z-sbMCt49Bb0gc2hyphenhyphenmEg/s1600/DSC_1107.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><span style="background-color: white;">A walk on the doggie beach the day before</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYYQLkuIAqjtOPRGEZ3RfZ6MUH2doa0BnGi-X8OG18bHJbXfIzodvKKN6VZcfNNZl32_5QU9qSFukeYz52w_tOuXmN5Cn_LtYDJ5XiAuqcTvdNGnvqCqmKv0ArTPv5lbJWAQ3MpRXBso/s1600/DSC_1116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYYQLkuIAqjtOPRGEZ3RfZ6MUH2doa0BnGi-X8OG18bHJbXfIzodvKKN6VZcfNNZl32_5QU9qSFukeYz52w_tOuXmN5Cn_LtYDJ5XiAuqcTvdNGnvqCqmKv0ArTPv5lbJWAQ3MpRXBso/s1600/DSC_1116.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">J and Murphy</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAYo2GynVGNmwN0dv9wgu0Q9qePORFprQ4FWUt7x4vCRRhQzWxdoiTBw2t79HF281-FdSzxFqDUZFuM6rtU2TijaaR6WpfglgzyirsD_wIYIiMmWAHDJVcjKfVW3Qft4TkVypLbYsugk/s1600/DSC_1109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDAYo2GynVGNmwN0dv9wgu0Q9qePORFprQ4FWUt7x4vCRRhQzWxdoiTBw2t79HF281-FdSzxFqDUZFuM6rtU2TijaaR6WpfglgzyirsD_wIYIiMmWAHDJVcjKfVW3Qft4TkVypLbYsugk/s1600/DSC_1109.jpg" height="640" width="532" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;">More at the dog beach down the road from our house</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0a1bLKzyk12tXFvCosuVRLdFbgBudYvI500G5O5EWnJHdr7Xj1Pq11QwAXhioDAKMX6qaEhG2kyRFHSwnV6oNS5suggBV3IQR1ph5S9mfCUGpLyTr3u7c0XK_WetvJSjZNIOr5ltI0wo/s1600/DSC_1103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0a1bLKzyk12tXFvCosuVRLdFbgBudYvI500G5O5EWnJHdr7Xj1Pq11QwAXhioDAKMX6qaEhG2kyRFHSwnV6oNS5suggBV3IQR1ph5S9mfCUGpLyTr3u7c0XK_WetvJSjZNIOr5ltI0wo/s1600/DSC_1103.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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It has been a soulful, stimulating, enriching journey; a
life populated by a beloved cast of characters some who have accompanied me for only a season, but all of whom in a million ways, contributed to
my experience,.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been a
kaleidoscope of colour, of taste, of language, and of new and different
horizons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been a book of
many chapters, each shifting and stretching me into the person I am now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>
</div>
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I intentionally use the word stretch because I hope that as
a result of my life experience, I possess the qualities I have learned to
admire most in others. </div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To have strong opinions provided they are
informed ones, it is important that truths be founded in reason and careful
consideration but then they should be sung.;</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To stay informed in order to contribute to the
social conversation; to consider the rationale of others but to
critically discern;</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To be tolerant but only when it is predicated
upon personal freedoms and reason, not dogma or undue influence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To have passions regardless of what they are and to pursue them with abandon without fear of judgment;</div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To be compassionate and to empathize with the
broken, the disadvantaged, and the vulnerable;</div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To engage in something, anything; but once
engaged, pursue it with honour and commitment for as long as possible;</div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>To live life purposefully; open-eyed,
open-minded, and open-hearted; to push the limits of your courage particularly when it’s
easier to do the easy thing.</div>
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Oh and finally, and this one is really, really important: remember
to drink more water and the occasional glass of good Champagne with a good friend.</div>
C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-31798681536281260012014-05-11T11:20:00.000+02:002014-05-11T14:35:32.870+02:00Calgary in the Tropicsis what we've been calling Perth ever since relocating to Western Australia. We have observed for the three or so years that we've lived in Australia that Canadians and Australians are very similar. Same dry sense of humour, self-deprecating, don't take ourselves particularly seriously, real news programming, limited filter and not afraid to call the ridiculous what it is.<br />
<br />
However, now we have further observed that Perth and Melbourne are as different as say Calgary and Montreal. Come to think of it Melbourne is Montreal. Stately, elegant, great architecture, killer fashion sense but I never knew my Melbourne neighbours (excepting one: hi Robyn!).<br />
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Perth is Calgary. G'day from everyone you pass in the street, chatty staff in all the shops, great architecture somewhat lacking, killer outdoor activities. Trade the Alberta Rockies for the Indian Ocean and you would swear you were in the same place, except with Frangiapanis....and Banana Trees....and beaches...and no snow or freezing temperatures. You get the picture.<br />
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It's been a nice weekend, pretty perfect actually. J had a mate over on Saturday and we all trouped to the doggie beach at the end of our road (because they have beaches at the end of your roads in Perth!). Murphy was in heaven. We did observe several washed-up Man O'War Blue Bottle jellyfish on the beach probably a result of some crazy wind a few days ago. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portuguese_man_o%27_war">Want to know more about Man O'War Blue Bottle jellyfish - they're a little scary, just click anywhere on this coloured link.</a> Awesome! Can't wait for summer. That'll be me, the crazy girl in the stinger suit inside a shark cage right near shore.<br />
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Anyhoo, jellyfish and sharks aside, we had our neighbours for dinner last night which concluded with a dessert I <strike>stole</strike> borrowed from my great friend Kerry - Chocolate Chili Ice Cream cake. It is killer! and I have a Mother's Day date with the rest of it tonight.<br />
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This Mother's Day morning, however, I was greeted with coffee, freshly-squeezed O.J., a card, and the latest edition of Australia's Better Homes and Gardens magazines in bed followed by an HOUR of reading my book....by myself!!! I vetoed breakfast in bed since I hate sleeping amongst crumbs. Breakfast was outside (because you can have breakfast outside in the Fall in Calgary-in-the-Tropics!).<br />
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The day was followed by a couple of hours of all of us reading our books, a Skype session with Kerry and the gang, and a Bikram Yoga class - doesn't get much better. I am very blessed.C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-45688733359378622342014-05-04T14:52:00.001+02:002014-05-05T01:50:50.493+02:00Another Sunday Another RecipeNot entirely sure where the last week went but next thing I know Sunday rolled around again. Fall has arrived WA-style. It's overcast and hovers around 23c before plummeting to 13c during the night. I spent the day clothed in tights, a t-shirt, and flipflops - crazy for this Northern girl!<br />
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Sundays, for Australian Family Hendricks, usually centers around food. As I have a dearth of topics to discuss, and inspired by a friend who enjoyed our Pina Colada recipe last week, I thought I would share our day of food, ending with our dinner recipe. Having finally had our erstwhile<br />
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stovetop repaired this week (yes, it is possible to become sick of barbeque after almost 3 weeks), we celebrated with C2s Lemon Ricotta pancakes for breakfast. A Melbourne tradition for us but our first time in Perth. Sorry can't share that recipe, it's classified!<br />
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After a morning spent pruning my Tahitian Lime tree of its' infestation of Citrus Leaf Miner (clearly no one with a love of citrus trees lived here before us), and planting armfuls of sweet basic, and fragrant mint; our neighbours presented us with a bowl of freshly-baked bread. Lunch was freshly-baked bread, French butter, ham, cheese, avocado and tomato, piri piri sauce, olives, cornichons, and J's version of soft drink: freshly-squeezed orange juice, carbonated water, and a dash of sugar.<br />
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Later in the day, and clearly in a citrus state-of-mind, with a glass of Australian Shiraz in hand and John Mayer radio sounding from Pandora, C2 and I made Penne with Roasted-Tomato Sauce, Orange and Olives accompanied by a green salad for dinner.<br />
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Here is the recipe:<br />
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<b>Penne with Roasted-Tomato Sauce, Orange and Olives</b><br />
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<u>Ingredients</u>:<br />
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1 kg plum tomatoes cut into wedges<br />
1-2 onions halved lengthwise, cut into thin wedges<br />
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil<br />
4 garlic cloves, coursely chopped<br />
1 tbsp grated orange peel<br />
1/2 cup fresh orange juice<br />
<br />
2 cups penne<br />
1/2 chopped fresh basil<br />
1/4 cup chopped pitted Kalamata olives<br />
1/4 cup freshly-grated pecorino Romano cheese<br />
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Spread tomatoes on one sheet and onions on the other. Drizzle 1 tbsp olive oil over each. Distribute garlic and orange peel over both. Season with salt and pepper and roast until tender stirring occasionally, about 30 mins for onions and 45 mins for tomatoes. Cool slightly. Pour 1/4 cup of orange juice over vegetables on both sheets scraping up any brown bits from bottom of sheets.<br />
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When done, prepare pasta, reserve approx 1/4 cup pasta cooking water. Add tomato and onion mixture, basil and olives to pasta. Stir over medium heat until heated through adding enough reserve pasta cooking water to moisten. Transfer to bowls. Sprinkle with grated Romano cheese and serve. It is OMG delish!<br />
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Bon appetit!C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-77185041656426164242014-04-27T08:20:00.000+02:002014-05-04T14:53:07.948+02:00Sunday Morning Pina Coladas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This Sunday morning just seemed to say "Pina Coladas". Maybe it's been the spectacular weather we've been having, the Frangiapani and Hibiscus still blooming wildly in this unusually warm Perth Fall. Or maybe it's the plethora of tropical fruits available in this part of the world. Whatever the reason, this morning just seemed right for a Pina Colada (virgin 'course).<br />
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We started by hacking into a young green coconut. J's has been drinking them frequently. We have an outdoor method now following several early efforts resulting in woody coconut bits flying everywhere. Next pour the coconut milk into a jug before scooping out the ripe flesh.<br />
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Next mash the flesh with some of the coconut milk and unsweetened pineapple juice.<br />
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Finally, blend with the rest of the coconut milk, more unsweetened pineapple juice, a Western Australia banana (tiny and super sweet), passionfruit yogurt, and ice (the lego-shaped pieces work particularly well).<br />
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Add straws, sit in the sun, and dream of summer.<br />
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Yep, that's how we roll in Western Australia.<br />
<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9195467039975300595.post-20481282881207113572014-04-16T15:25:00.002+02:002014-04-16T15:30:03.343+02:00Perth - Week 1Technically, it's week 2, about 10 days into this move but it has been a bit of a blur. We are now about 80% unpacked and settled but this last 20% may take awhile, since it includes unpacking around 8,000 books, 9,000 MORE toys, finding and purchasing an outdoor dining table, a barbeque, and a living room sofa (sitting on the floor to type whilst charging my computing is getting soooo old), and fixing everything that has decided not to work in the new house. The good news is that the few sticks of rental furniture have been collected so now I can actually reach the 7,000 remaining boxes.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Nothing says "Welcome to Perth" quite like a Shingle-Back Lizard the size of my arm, sunning himself on our steps!</span></td></tr>
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In all seriousness, it has been as positive a first week as I could have hoped for. J's first two days of the final week of Term 1 school passed really well. He was such a trouper and it has paid dividends. Do you remember from my last post that our next door neighbour/Vice-Principal introduced J to another boy in his year who had recently returned from 3 years in Calgary. They seem to have hit it off and through his father, born in Kingston, Ontario (just like Murphy), J joined a week-long sailing school, albeit reluctantly. However, off he has gone for 3 hours every day this week to the gorgeous little sailing club down the road - <i>yes, they have gorgeous little sailing clubs down the road in Perth</i> - and has LOVED it. Apparently, if all goes to plan, they will each be indivually sailing in their little boats the breadth of the Swan River on Friday - SERIOUSLY???<br />
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He has been playing with the other kids at the club, and today spent the afternoon at<i> 3-years-in-Calgary</i> boy's house. I'd say those two school days paid off! The other significant dividend is no anxiety over this two-week school break before the start of Term 2.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Did I mention J's sailing instructor is French?</span></td></tr>
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I have met two of J's sailing club/school mates' mums this week and we've had a couple of good chats, especially with <i>3-years-in-Calgary</i> boy's mum so am looking forward to building on that. In the meantime, I am e-mailing and texting my supportive Melbourne peeps and even had an evening at the beach and fish & chips back at our house with one Melbourne family who were holidaying in Perth. That felt good.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Cottesloe Beach one fine evening</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">One handsome boy, one fine beach!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUBjPricHzqZW2u744z9aXW9kqXuey0NGHRa_2okgYskvEOvydt1izhdAhRmJajj-LVHt8ioO0dXG0RSpNyunCKKSrAlYCMiDiF4fo1xD5NqXRlXpEL650p0kcdhMasVF2qtIGJYiPG8/s1600/photo+3(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUBjPricHzqZW2u744z9aXW9kqXuey0NGHRa_2okgYskvEOvydt1izhdAhRmJajj-LVHt8ioO0dXG0RSpNyunCKKSrAlYCMiDiF4fo1xD5NqXRlXpEL650p0kcdhMasVF2qtIGJYiPG8/s1600/photo+3(1).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Sunset at Cottesloe</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginZ6SUMUV-U2-BIGf9WMyhwrQzxGEoh1Jg3v2nXNaeDBRk3dIuTGBEJ7EMAYXzz_l_0QIRrQQKAa7xCOsEa_xYhfZLqMsiGpck8KuBYGCYvbZt5EU2FUShlMQi_q9ubq7LuV0l7ddALM/s1600/photo+4(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginZ6SUMUV-U2-BIGf9WMyhwrQzxGEoh1Jg3v2nXNaeDBRk3dIuTGBEJ7EMAYXzz_l_0QIRrQQKAa7xCOsEa_xYhfZLqMsiGpck8KuBYGCYvbZt5EU2FUShlMQi_q9ubq7LuV0l7ddALM/s1600/photo+4(1).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Selfie of us 3</span></td></tr>
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After several days of 30c+ days, it dropped back to mid-20s and, frankly, it was a nice break to fling the doors open all day, especially with furniture removalists, refrigerator delivery men and other maintenance people in and out all day. Murphy thought we were moving again and tried several runners but I am on to her wily ways now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HFOIWVtBsn1b8b0lb4DV9T0qweT3B-5SDEGe5eoqcoeQDxuvv6H_Jo7RfpO59AgpFpJ8m8M38KcNcuiOAhzHjPKGYiFrRABalGrOYCHQAAH8k7WK88Sf4Zc7-xh-dSJofeiKG6xJY80/s1600/photo+1(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HFOIWVtBsn1b8b0lb4DV9T0qweT3B-5SDEGe5eoqcoeQDxuvv6H_Jo7RfpO59AgpFpJ8m8M38KcNcuiOAhzHjPKGYiFrRABalGrOYCHQAAH8k7WK88Sf4Zc7-xh-dSJofeiKG6xJY80/s1600/photo+1(1).JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">J and <i>across-the-street-boy</i> with "River" the young Black Swam who befriended us on a walk along a stretch of the Swan River</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2WlJvW7vCqo_jDNxhY963n1kQuRBVUzQKsL85Op6uj8KF49qqISj4ONoMu3mH7g0OpdLnjdTCTkIOkBkn4bdNcHr4s3PDHLxW9Wjz-hITCWsjOrRkS3d-hbRId_UCgd2UiUY3ZdWKwPk/s1600/photo+2(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2WlJvW7vCqo_jDNxhY963n1kQuRBVUzQKsL85Op6uj8KF49qqISj4ONoMu3mH7g0OpdLnjdTCTkIOkBkn4bdNcHr4s3PDHLxW9Wjz-hITCWsjOrRkS3d-hbRId_UCgd2UiUY3ZdWKwPk/s1600/photo+2(1).JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">"River" loved the wild grasses the boys fed him</span></td></tr>
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One more day then C2 is off for 10 days. Ten days of breaking the back of the final bit of unpacking, a little exploring of our new region, a little sleeping-in, and little cooking together and drinking wine...maybe even fit in a bit of binge-watching of "Orange is the New Black". Can't come fast enough!<br />
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<br />C.http://www.blogger.com/profile/06718970528564075858noreply@blogger.com1