Under a hotter Sun; A diamond studded sky;

I like to stand in the darkness and gaze up into infinity, the stars so close I think I can touch them.
A velvety blackness dripping with silver fills the Southlands night sky. It spreads its glittering imperiousness to state its eternity. The stars enigmatic, following unwavering their path light years away, tiny scintillating dots which we will never reach. Also we try very hard to reach the silver. The moon sits in his corner tonight blown up, a smile on his benevolent face. They from down there have visited him. It was not very pleasant. They think they have achieved a lot, he very slightly sways let’s a fleecy cloud hide his smile; the radiance of the stars bathes the surroundings with a soft glow.

I look for the familiar Southern Cross; it tells me that I am here in this Southland walking on my head. The stars look rather small but the two brilliant pointers show the way to find it. The inky sky shows a very pronounced Milky Way like a silver ribbon.. The stars glitter and wink until they are all surrounded and lost in a crowd of sparkling constellations.
I have never seen a sky like that. It is one of the wonders, balsam that buries deep into one’s soul. It is a feeling profound and arch primal.
The next morning all is back to normal. The magic of the night sky hidden away. The sun, gold and silver, once more blazing and fiery.

The Christmas days have past. I am glad I can put it aside.
The days of the eventful 1974 that has brought so much change in our lives are waning. Peter and I are very positive and optimistic about our altered lifestyle and hope that we all will be happy and fulfilled in our new endeavours.
The whole process is still so new and raw. Everyday is packed with something new to learn and to absorb. The children take it in their stride which is fantastic. My brain works non stop to counter the challenge and to miss nothing. I am not yet relaxed in my everyday life. Peter seems quite relaxed. I think he is the first time really happy. He really loves the land and loves what he is doing, free and not bound by the everyday trudge of going to work, returning tired and not very inspired in the evening. He is 42 and I think he is one of the lucky ones to be able to change his workload. Normally he is not a relaxed person he is very highly strung and has a temper when things don't work out.

In February the children are starting at their new schools. Marie-Louise will start first form at Maclean High school. For her it will be really a challenge. I know she will cope she is a very clever girl. She is such a small, slim girl for her age.
Jacky and Lilli will be pupils at Tyndale Primary which is a one teacher school with pupils from 5 years to 12 years of age. There will be only about two handfuls of students. I hope they are OK. They are not scared, very optimistic and looking forward to their new schools. I am glad about this it makes it much easier.
Norma was very kind and told me all about the school clothes they would need, as they all wear school uniforms in Australia. Marie-Louise would need a tartan dress and white blouses, white socks, black shoes and for the cooler time of the Year a dark
green jacket or Jumper, all the clothes were available at McKelly's in Maclean. Norma offered to take me there and show me the ropes. Marie-Louise also needed a skirt and bloomers for PE short for physical education. These items were not available as finished products. I had to sew them myself. I bought the material and I went up to Norma to sew these garments on her sewing machine, as mine had not yet arrived.

For Jacky and Lilli I didn't have to buy a uniform. The teacher, Mr.McCann, advised against it. He said:" This small school will soon be closed and then Jacky and Lilli will have to go to Maclean's schools. It is not worthwhile to spend all this money for such a short time, as they would need different uniforms. This suited me and the girls didn't mind as they were anyway not used to wear uniforms.
By now we are also eager to get started with the building of our new home and we also need a Garage and a shed for the farm machinery.
The road we are using now is also in a bad shape with deep holes washed out by heavy rainstorms. It will be better to build a new road in a gentler curving way it will be less prone to be washed out by heavy rainfall, instead like the old road which went in one straight line down the hill.

The new Year will be busy until everything is settled.

A tiny, new arrival arrived at our place as well and made its way into our hearts. Jacky received a tabby kitten whose mother was not able to look after it anymore. It is a Manx cat where his tail should be is only a little flap. His mother was a Manx. I had never seen one. Reg brought it over and Tommy, the name Jacky gave him, started his life with us.

We also got Purscht from the dog pound. He was a beautiful looking cattle dog, but absolutely useless with the cattle. He would just run uselessly around and try to snap after every bird that flew past him. I don't know what happened to him that he had such an erratic behaviour. At the same time we also got Boy a cattle dog pup. A cute and very, very friendly dog. He should be trained as a cattle dog, but I doubt it that Peter will be able to do that, he has not enough patience to do that sort of thing.

Under a hotter Sun; Summer means Summer;

Christmas is just a around the corner and here it appears just at the beginning of summer. It has sneaked up on me without warning. I have not bought any presents for the children and we don't have a Christmas tree either. I am so occupied with all what is happening now and it doesn't feel like Christmas anyway. The children don't say anything about presents and a Christmas tree. They seem not to miss it either or am I kidding myself and they are just not telling me. I do feel guilty for not providing the customary Christmas treats this year. In the shops are kind of strange Christmas decorations with colourful balloons hanging from artificial greenery. Everywhere Christmas tunes are played.
The sad thing is it does not feel like Christmas at all. I think I am homesick and I feel sorry for myself, which is the worst because it won’t help me feel better. Perhaps I feel like this because we have not yet a proper home. I have to shake myself out of this situation, I feel so lost in all this newness.

“Our "next-door" neighbours Norman and Norma and their four children have come by and invited us for Christmas lunch.
We drive to their homestead which stands on the highest point of their property. One of the children has to get out and open and close a few gates before we arrive on top of the hill.
Norma and Norman are a very nice family. Very straight forward and no frills. They and their ancestors have always lived and worked in this region. They have lots of relatives and know practically everybody around. They have two girls and two boys. The boys, are about the same age as our girls. The girls a few years older. They live in a old, cosy "Queenslander" what the traditional houses are called here. I am impressed by a big Figtree loaded with fruits just at the entrance of the house. My mouth waters just by looking at this tree. Norma said help yourself, yes thank you very much I will.
Norma and her two girls, 17 and 15 have prepared and cooked a beautiful Christmas lunch. The kitchen is very nice, decorated with many small porcelain figurines. The table was already set with her best china. We ate roast and grilled chicken and vegetables, lots of cups of tea to wash it all down. Dessert was an elaborate concoction called a "trifle" which is a bit a misnomer for this dessert. It was served individually in neat, small porcelain bowls. On the bottom a layer of cake saturated with brandy, colourful green and red, Christmas colours, Jelly cubes and to top it up a silky vanilla custard with some candied fruits. It was in a way what I knew as creme diplomat. Norma had also made Christmas treats like Coconut Ice in different colours which is a popular sweet. The rumballs also very scrumptious did not find approval with Jacky. I saw her taking it out of her mouth and throwing it out of the window behind her. Back home I reprimanded her for behaving not properly. Jacky cheerfully replied, it was Mrs. Connors idea, she said if you don't like it throw it out to the dogs. There were a few cattle dogs congregating before the kitchen to wait for the odd morsel. In the late afternoon, after sitting together comfortably and chatting, trying on both parts to make sense of what we were saying, we said goodbye and thanked them for their hospitality.

Summer has settled on us....the sun an awesome white-hot sphere simmers everything in its reach spreading an opalescent haze. Already the morning heats up with astonishing speed. By midday the heat puddles like lava over everything. Birds and animals are hiding in the deepest shady spots, bodies relaxed and silent.

Summer brings orchestras of cicadas lashing their music to every tree. With a mighty force they sing relentless day and night. The bush reverberates within their sound, tempo, forte always crescendo.

Summer brings hordes of insects. Ants and more ants, tiny ones, jumping ones, black and green iridescent, and more, all are armed with vicious little pincers ready to attack at the least disturbance. Some bunch and glue together leaves on tree and shrub branches. Unexpectedly I come into contact with their nest and disturb them the slightest bit they will drop on me attack like furies and bite me wherever they can.

The jumping ants are about one centimetre long they live under leave litter and are quite happy living there as long as I don’t come into contact with their pursuits. They are very quick jumping and burying their pincers into my skin, this protective action, leaves me to nurse a painful bite for quite a while. I am rather an expert by now I have experienced their defences often enough when innocently coming into contact with their dwelling and it is always I who runs.
The tiny red and black ones invaded my dwelling and I declared war on them that was not at all in perspective with these tiny marauders. But, as the saying goes “all is fair in love and war.” They made my kitchen their own; they glean any morsel they can carry, sometimes double their size pushing and shoving they march in single file into their one hundred and one hiding places. I tried my heaviest ammunition they are always back.

I saw them busily like a red train, nothing stands in their way, and they overcome any hurdle, with tiny feet hurry along my kitchen bench. I followed their train; it went into a bookcase their nest hidden in our music. They chose Mendelssohn’s a Midsummer Nights Dream. Naturally in my war mood they got short thrift and their dream home destroyed.

Copyright T.S.

Under a hotter Sun; Who likes spiders?

Summer is the time of life for spiders. I have no arachnophobia. Yet one day I was really scared. I was picking the last beans bending over the rows when I suddenly spotted something unfamiliar. I had heard horror stories about them but never actually seen them until now. Hiding between the green beans I was just about to pick was a whole cluster of “red backs.” Shiny black with its red stripe, nature’s warning, keep off. They are very dangerous, their bite means death without antidote. It is uncanny the shock you get by nearly touching them. I fled the rows of beans ignoring bowl and spilled vegetables where I threw them in my hasty get away. I had Peter destroy the cluster. I was cautious in the veggie patch aware there could be more yet with time my encounter with the "Red backs" went into oblivion. Later we found some in our garage and also in a part of the ornamental garden were I was working. We thought they were brought with tiles, bricks and wood.

The next encounter with “Red backs” was in a small ornamental border near the entrance gate. The border was a riot of seeding weeds and it was time to get rid of the weeds and plant some native grasses and small bushes. Some time before, at an earlier attempt to clean this area I had spotted a cluster of “Red backs” between the tangled vegetation. That was the reason why I was not keen to go in back there to clean it up. Since then some time had elapsed and the fear of the “Red backs” had receded and was not centred in my mind anymore. I had all my implements ready, small trowel, secateurs, and my wheelbarrow to fill with the discarded plants and weeds, only my gardening gloves were missing and I was to lazy to go back to the house to fetch them. I was tearing out armful of weeds and dead plants, pruning others to give them a new lease of life, when I suddenly felt a tiny prick on my finger. One look at my finger showed a small white moon and two tiny holes. At the same time my whole hand started to throb and really hurt. I nursed my hand and my first thought was has a “red back” bitten me? Frantically I looked for signs of “red backs” where I just had weeded. I didn’t find any. My hand was still hurting a lot and there was also a light swelling. Then I thought has a snake bitten me? There were always plenty of red-bellied black snakes or whip snakes whose bite could also be potentially dangerous. By now I was really scared, as Peter was not around the house he was on his tractor slashing the grass on the property somewhere. No way of calling him. The next neighbours were miles away and the girls were at school. I went into the house and plunged my hand under the water, then took some ice from the freezer and bandaged the ice around my hand. I knew if a dangerous snake or spider bit me, I would have to drive myself to Maclean hospital that was about 30 kilometres from our place. I was also looking for the little book we kept that told how the body reacted to different poisons. While I was making all sorts of plans, at this time we didn’t have a phone, so I couldn’t ring anybody and ask. While all this was happening in my mind I surprisingly felt that my hand didn’t throb anymore. I peeled it from its icy bandage, the pain had subsided and my breathing was normal again. There were still the two tiny pinpricks.
A white spider or other spiders I have made connections with might have bitten me.
Numerous spiders, ants or the native wasps have nipped me but luckily never real harm was done.
My first encounter with one big spider, a huntsman, which I didn’t know at the time, I will never forget, because everybody who was there said it was so funny. When at the time it was not funny at all because I was so scared. I was so scared I had my pants literally around my ankles.
We were all together plus a few helping hands up at the new stockyard where we had some cattle for inspection. I was standing innocently on the road near the stockyard
Looking over to the men and the girls handling some calves. When suddenly this immense Spider, probably disturbed, ran over the road directly towards me up my boots under my jeans. I have never in my life taken off my pants so quickly. The men inclusive Peter and the girls were laughing their heads off seeing me their in my underpants, contorting and searching frantically for the spider which I didn’t find. My replies were not friendly towards the bunch of laughing faces.
In Summer Daddy Long Legs live with us in our home. They sit in their tangled, fine retreats waiting for their food. Under their webs lays always the detritus of their meals waiting to be swept up. They are no harm whatsoever to humans but can easily kill a Red back or Huntsman spider.
The Huntsman spiders live with us in the house.. We always call them Charlie. A big one can be greater than a hand span. They live behind Furniture, scurrying upside down on walls and ceilings from room to room. We leave them alone, they have never harmed us.
In the garden the distinct spindle shaped egg sacs of the Magnificent spider hang like Christmas decorations from branches of shrubs and trees. The spider itself is rarely seen it hides his jewelled body well. This spider and his spindles are very special to me like a present from nature. There are many more spiders in my garden that I covet and admire.
The golden Orb-weaver spins her huge, untidy structures across trees and bushes and over pathways where I am caught many times with the sticky web in my hair. Her fat, striped body with long legs in golden stockings waits usually in the middle of her golden, silky trap. She also employs an array of her children that also lay in waiting for the poor victims that are not aware that not all is gold that glitters.
Early in the morning the webs sparkle with myriads of tiny drops of moisture, like intricate crocheted doilies hung out to dry between the branches of shrubs.

Copyright T.S.

Photos T.S.