making the most of monday

A blue sky is a rarity at the moment and Monday morning is a good enough excuse for getting out.

checking things out

anticipation

excitement

paddling hard

almost there

white water fun

finding the best spot

up

and again

pleasure

eyes closed

yoga on the beach

downward dog

three legged dog

dad, what are you doing?

not even close

fruit and veg and herbs

Whenever we have moved of late, the new place doesn't really start to feel like home til there are pots of herbs growing just outside the door. A few weeks ago I joyfully filled my pots with new seedlings, the hope of future bounty.

Hmmm, a possum thought so to and attacked my parsley in the night. A little problem solving and a little help from a neighbour (donated chicken wire), ugly but so far it has done the job.

Also on my doorstep each week is a delivery of organic fruit and veg. A beautiful box of surprises, a delicious way to support a local business.

This weeks challenge, to use half a cabbage - again. I managed to offload the last one to Rach...

rain and fields of sunshine

Johanna and I arrived back from our Tassie week to a wet and water logged Bellarine Peninsula. We missed most of the rain but its evidence is everywhere - puddles and mud. The paddocks have mini lakes in them, the river is brown and the ocean is brown for hundreds of meters until a line where it suddenly turns blue.

And every now and then the sun manages to shine through and the fields around Barwon Heads glow a dazzling yellow - it is canola time.

And where there isn't canola there's wattle and buttercups, sunshine wherever you look, for a moment, til the storm clouds roll in and it starts to rain...

happy birthday

And it was a very happy birthday. We had all the family down and squeezed everyone in on Saturday night. Colin loved his fire pit - dessert, coffee, roasted marshmallows and a drop of whiskey and home made liquor tastes so much better with smoke...

And the birthday boy loved nothing more than to muck about in the waves on Sunday morning, especially when he had company...

Colin leading the way

Rach and Cass sharing a wave

a very chilled Jan

Zac's trademark stance

the end of a ride

Cass managing to stand up and a very excited Rach in the background 

thanks

We had to be home between one and three, waiting for a delivery. I figured I may as well bake the orange syrup muffins that I had been meaning to try for a while. The delivery men arrived just as the muffins came out of the oven and the syrup was being dribbled over the top. Their eyes lit up as I offered each a warm and sticky gift. Transactions completed - a bed for us and muffins for them, along with a few jibes about Carlton, they left. A minute later the doorbell rang, a couple of appreciative delivery men just letting us know they had taken the old bed leaning against the fence (waiting to be taken to the tip). Great, saved us a $22 tip fee, that's about $11 per muffin, can't complain about that...

afternoon ride

One of the things I love about Barwon Heads is that you get river, sea and countryside. A few minutes walk and there is the river, a few more and there is the sea, ten minutes on the bike and all you can see is green. Johanna and I took a late afternoon ride just to be surrounded by green...

disorientated

Johanna and I returned from our 'Tassie week' on Friday night. We caught the skybus into Southern Cross, as we always used to, and for a moment it was as though we were visiting Melbourne and Launceston was still home. It was disorientating. And so was driving in Launceston in my old neighbourhood on streets that are so familiar but I was not in my car and I did not turn into my old driveway. Familiar places and typical routines, but not. A weird kind of feeling.

The last year has been one of 'those years', the kind that exhaust and overwhelm, the kind where you feel assaulted by one thing after another and you wonder when it will stop and how much more you can withstand. I don't feel like doing anything and I don't feel like doing nothing. There is just a weary emptiness. And I don't feel like blogging and I don't feel like taking photographs and perhaps it is time to call a halt. I just do the things that need doing and in the spaces seek solace in walking muddy paths through shades of green and sandy paths alongside the sea...