I hope summer has been good to you, and if not, I hope you've made as much good as you could out of it...
We enjoyed many a simple pleasure this season, the beach being one of them.
Even with helicopters overhead and 'Beach Closed' signs on shore due to shark sightings we were there almost every other day during the summer holidays. There was something surreal about having Newcastle Beach (which would normally be packed at this time of year) basically to ourselves and the diehard surfers. D and I took the sensible approach, ensuring that there was at least one person (bait we referred to them as) ahead of us in the water at all times; we're very sensible and strategic in our risk-taking.
Apart from the beach we enjoyed regular visits from the black cockatoos. They gather to make a feast of our banksia integrifolia - in fact they give the entire thing a good solid tip prune, leaving a big mess of fallen branches in their wake. But I love them too much to be worried. Look at that face, they're the most mischievous things ever!
I also enjoyed a visit from KJ which came as a lovely treat after a not so lovely visit to the hospital. It was a cold and rainy 'comfie clothes' December-kinda-day. We sat, chatted and sipped tea. I opened belated birthday pressies and we talked all things metallic twine, dreams, goals and new years resolutions.
Just after new years we finally named our chickens. In what was a very hunger-fuelled Saturday evening drive, D and I chatted about our chicks (which there are now just six of). They had started to become recognizable to us either by physical feature or a unique personality trait so it seemed like the time was right to give each a name of their own instead of all the corporate names they'd accumulated in the last months: Royals, Birdzillars, Chickalatas, Chickaroos...
With the smell of freshly collected Thai takeaway wafting tormentingly through the car I asked D what he thought was a good name for our smallest, yet most assertive bird who (though he hesitated to admit it) was obviously his favourite.
He thought about it for a surprisingly short amount of time (by D's standards) and announced "Hillary". I instantly agreed. It seemed to suit her. Then somehow things just got a little excitable, a little hypoglycemic perhaps, but none-the-less very productive, and we now have a name, and a name sake for all of our chicks!
It all snowballed along the theme of female counterparts of significant men in the world. Our original chicken Pippa was named after Pippa Middleton, and her rooster friend Harry (the one responsible for all this chicken madness) was named after Prince Harry of Wales.
Hillary was named after Hillary Clinton. And Hazel, Hazel Hawk. And it wouldn't be fair to leave Bridget and Frances out, Tony Abbott's two very 'dedicated' daughters who towed the campaign line with him in what Annabelle Crab referred to as the "not-without-my-daughter campaign" of 2013, ha! Oh and very importantly, Winnie, named after Nelson Mandela's former wife. Winnie (the chicken, that is) has the biggest reddest comb of all the chicks and if you use your imagination, it kinda looks like an afro.
Then things got plain hysterical and out of control and we decided to included Vladimir Putin's wife, whose name we shortened from Lyudmila to Mila (because it's easier to pronounce and a lot less crazy-dictator sounding).
So there you have it: Pippa, Hillary, Hazel, Bridget, Frances, Winnie and Mila.
Some of the chicks have also started laying as of the fourth of February. They're very small eggs in comparison to our store bought ones, but we're hoping they get bigger in time as the chicks get older.
Now, I wont harp on about it nearly as much as I'm dying too, but the hydrangeas that bloomed for the first time this spring just got bigger and more beautiful. I am already hastening autumn and winter because they bring me closer to when they will flower again.
I'm sure the second year of flowering will be even better, and the dream of having cut hydrangeas (that I haven't had to steal from other peoples' gardens) in vases all through the house will hopefully be realised this spring. The crepe myrtles and the flowering gum were the other stars of our non-productive garden this summer, so intensely colourful!
Our productive garden went completely berzerk this summer. A constant glut of tomatoes coupled with the fact that D and I don't eat them, coupled with my 'none-shall-perish' passion for not wasting food meant I was a little stressed.
Surrounded by pails of tomatoes that were red and ripe I called Mum and told her I had 'tomato anxiety'. So over she came with jars, vinegar, sugar and all sorts of bits and pieces to make some serious tomato chutney. It tastes delicious and we hopefully have enough to last us till next tomato season.
The 'naybours' (the four legged kind) along with their owners moved out suddenly in the new year.
I was devastated, I loved
And then it was time for a little summer getaway. We decided to end our four year camping drought and head to Treachery, Seal Rocks, for a brief camping trip. It poured as we drove up the Pacific HWY, but, ever optimistic, on we went.
Regardless of the rain, feuding drunken neighbouring campers and automated (lukewarm) four minute showers, it was a really nice time. There is something ultimately relaxing about camping, and I'm looking forward to our next (hopefully dryer) trip.
And lastly, we enjoyed our very first homegrown apple on the twenty third of January. It was from the Gala apple tree D's sister Mel bought us two years ago. It was so sweet, crisp and juicy; we can't wait for more! The Golden Nugget pumpkin on the other hand was a whole lot sweeter looking than it was tasting, but worth growing even if just for aesthetic appeal.
Now summer is all but over and we're looking forward to all the things autumn brings: closed-in shoes, contemplating whether or not to wear that extra
layer; seeing all the trees slowly and gracefully fall into their
dormant hibernation, the first lighting of the fire; the first
paralyzed frozen nose, the 'chat' about when to swap the doona from
chicken to goose down... Looking forward to it all. And then, by the end of it, we'll be
eager to shed the layers, see some green on the trees and do the summer thing all over again. And so the cycle goes...
