Kite festival

Al and I managed to get leave from the kids to ride our bikes together the hour or so to Hobart over the mountain. Sure was beautiful, and the temperature change was awesome. It seemed to go from 40 degrees up the hill to minus 20 degrees as we dropped down the other side, in about 2.5 seconds. Riding down the mountain, the city was spread out below us, flowing off the mountain before stopping, teetering on the edge of the bay. We met family, friends and our kids at the kite festival, which perched on a grassy hill overlooking the water. I imagined the kite runners in Kabul, and wondered if they are still making their kites fly and dance while cutting each others strings. The Hobart version was a bit tamer, but so beautiful. Kites filled the sky and everyone permanently ducked and weaved to miss or untangle themselves from the kids strings. Family, friends, good times in an easy life. Sailing ships of the air mingled with japanese fish and elaborate eagles, while the kids $3 kites danced in an uneasy truce below them. Life is good.

born just in time

Yesterday I was about to throw away my broody chooks eggs from under her. She was way overdue, and seemed like she was about to cark it. Her comb hung low and her head rested to one side. Surely she couldn't sit on her eggs any longer and stay alive. I felt terrible that such a commited mother, sittting for well over three weeks, and running herself into the ground, was about to be pulled off her treasured eggs, It seemed that her time as a mum was over before it had begun.I moved her wing aside and picked up an egg that looked cracked. It was warm and  vibrating. I very carefully placed it down again,and peeked under her other wing. A cute small yellow head peered around her tired mum at me. Today there are three gorgeous chickens, and she is still determined to sit on the rest. Her commitment is amazing, but well worth it in the end.

living in the skirts of Mt Wellington

Life can be so full, and so rich, yet I long for more. I am trying to tear my heart from the red dunes, and remind myself over and over how hard life was out there! I am however still blown away with what an incredibly beautiful place Tasmania is. Despite the fact that there are way too many people buzzing around the streets like flies on a dead camel, I am in awe of my surrounds. The stunning convict built sandstone buildings that frame Salamanca Place seem suddenly miniscule as my eye is drawn up onto the beauty of Mount Wellington that looms undeniably behind the city. No matter how city life consumes me in the the trivia  of christmas shopping, it all goes into perspective when I get a glimpse of that Mountain. Our house huddles under its back skirts, and we are blessed with its protection from the worst of the howling winds, yet I can glance up now and admire the soft evening light shining on the dead stags of long ago forest giants, almost but not quite perched on the dolerite rich summit. The Aboriginal name for Mt Wellington is Unghbanyahletta or Poorawetter. Maybe it should be Poorawetterdude...(sorry, couldn't resist). Anyway, we are so lucky to live here, and give thanks to the Aboriginal spirits that still seem to dwell in this land. So, I will try to embrace the fortune that is ours. I dug up 110 garlic yesterday, crisp purple and white bulbs. Planted last April, they came up like buried treasure from the weed bed that is my garden. Two chickens are sitting patiently on clutches of eggs, and Dad who is visiting has made me a worm farm out of a fridge, which I can't wait to deposit some worker worms in. So, I may need to change the name of this story to tassiedwellers instead of desertdwellers, and my children will learn about socialising and hatching chickens rather than dodging rats and eating camels....

open arms

Looks like we only just got out. The rains came 3 days after we left, and poured down, bringing flooded roads and bogged vehicles. We would have been stranded in the desert- last year they were cut off for 4 months, but we are out of it now. It seems so surreal that all our movements depended so solely on nature, and now we agin live by schedules, school runs and traffic lights. Two weeks of travel have brought us back to the endlessly green incredibly steep Tasmania. It feels like someone pushed with all their might against the side of the island and heaved it all up towards the sky. I need to remind myself that we do live on the side of Mount Wellington, and despite the biting cold, can watch the clouds roll across the mountain each sunrise. The people here are as beautiful as ever. We have been welcomed back with open arms, meals, a stocked fridge, kidsitters, cookies, bbq's, a happy dog. Our 'property' was even brushcut for us by some ever giving souls. We are so lucky, to live in utopia, but to also be able to experience another sort of utopia in the Simpson Desert. My heart is full, and yet aches to still live by natures rules...

photos

oops, I forgot, I put some new photos up at last. I should probably put some disclaimers in but never mind...

a crescent moon

So here we are, all ready to grab our bags of recently acquired cowboy boots and hats and head off out of the sunset!!! I've got to say a big thanks by the way, you helped to keep me sane out here, and linked to the other way of living by knowing that people want to know about us out here. Our last few days of painful packing was eased in a big way by our lovely neighbour taking on babysitting duty all last night and today. Apparently the kids went to sleep at 3:30am last night, then went hard playing again all today. They got back tonight a little deranged and very bleary eyed, but completely in love with their friends. We all threw together some emuburgers and home made sausages, and Shae even brought some lettuce over, which I couldn't stop staring at...it's been a while in between shops and green stuff! So our last night was spent laughing till I cried with our neighbours and the Field Officer, Mo, and trying to rein in the kids very vaguely. Shae and Mo even kicked Al and I out of the house at sunset and we drove off, this time into the sunset, to the dunes. We dodged the 50 or so roos that were around the water trough, then Al called out 'Look behind, it's attacking the car!' 'Uh, what is?' I thought maybe an emu, or a goanna... I craned my neck over the open window to see a snake right below me darting out from under the car into the spinifex. It had a dark head and a red body, and was fired up! 'Jeez you could have told me it was a snake, some warning would have been good! Did it really go for the car?''Yeah, it looked like it went right for it!'  Al pulled up on the next dune, 'the sunsets beautiful, and look at the light in the spinifex.' He was already playing with lenses on his camera. 'Yeah, it's lovely, but I'm not getting out there, it's snakeville.' I stared gloomily at the ground from my window. 'Oh, don't be silly, get out.' I did, and it was beautiful watching our last sunset, and  seeing the soft orange glow bring the true desert beauty into play, and turn the harsh 44 degree day into a world to beautiful to truly comprehend. We stood on the crest of a burnt dune, looking onto waving dry spinifex, but at our feet in the blackened sand were hundreds, no thousands of green shoots. The rain has brought new life, and the cycle will of course go on. On waving goodbye to our neighbours for the last time, they pulled away from the gate, sillhouted by the glowing orange clouds and watched over by a shining white crescent moon. It's time for us to say goodbye and give thanks for being welcomed and watched over in this great landscape. I only hope we will return some day.

Christmas party

So even out here in the desert we found enough people for a little christmas party. The neighbours came over with their kids and the new Field Officer was there. We had an awesome feast  with sunset and starters at Mo's pool, then moved to the house verandah for chicken camp oven roast (went down very well) with my quinoa salad (which was very doubtfully poked by the meat, bread and spuds crew!). This was followed by pavlova and trifle, with copious amounts of alcohol to wash it all down. We all managed to relax together after working our 'rings' off with the fires, and laughed well into the night playing fact or crap card games and telling stories. It was awesome to spend a last good night with the neighbours, who have becom good friends. All the kids slept over, and Zavier was kind enough to give us a 5:30 am start, so we are all a bit bleary eyed today. I am starting to dream of being home among friends, yet my heart is aching a bit. Time for another big pack up and clean...