THE HAPPY CAMPER

Do you camp? Or do you run faster than Yusain Bolt as far from a tent as possible? Does “camp” in your lexicon mean blokes in ball gowns?

Well, this may not be your billy of bush tea…on the other hand, you might like to start your shiny new year with a new hobby.In which case, I’m happy to explain some of the terminology.

 

Once upon a time…when we “went camping” it involved a canvas tent, half a dozen wooden poles with iron spikes in one end (and if you didn’t have the smarts to know which end went uppermost…you found out the hard way) and fiendish fold-up camp cots whose hinges were known to sever fingers.After a few years of hauling small children and clumsy husbands off to ER for sutures, someone had the idea of sleeping on  a Li-lo, that inflatable bed which is more comfortable and affords a nice lie-down when you’ve come close to a heart attack after puffing into the damn’ thing for half an hour, before you have to wrestle with a folding card table whose hinges were designed by the cot people. (It might be a good idea to take a couple of bricks or off-cuts of timber because the odds against camping on perfectly level ground are roughly the same as David Cameron leading Britain back into Europe’s embrace.) All cooked food was cooked over open flame.No, Muriel, not a whopping great gas bottle-with-a-dish-rack. A proper fire of dead, fallen  branches with a cast iron pan for the frying of bacon.And a kettle big enough to boil enough water to wash the greasy pan and plates.Entertainment on such trips was very much d.i.y. Hiking, swimming in creeks or the sea, reading in the tent if it rained. Packing up the whole soggy mess if it kept raining and heading home.
And then came  “glamping.” This is a recently-coined term for “glamourous camping.” This new way seems to involve rather more money than I ever spent on a couple of days at a lake or seaside…For starters, one seems to need an all -terrain gas-guzzling behemoth to tow another behemoth which affords box spring bunk beds, slide-out table (ah! learned your lesson from those old camp cot hinges, did you?) microwave oven, TV/video,an extensive range of cookware, fridge,gas-fired cook top…Oh, you can have  an electronics chap sort out a suitable satellite dish to be mounted on the roof so you can watch the footy/cricket/ASE updates.
For only a little more money you could have ALL this in a single vehicle package. Big plus, you could add bike racks, allowing a BMX-y work-out before you sit down to your evening meal and the new season of  whatever TV show you absolutely must see.
Well, today I learned that an ancient tradition is being revived and is known now as “champing.”
In days of  yore, devout pilgrims walked miles to places of holy worship. Along the way, they were given shelter and basic food within the walls of monasteries, churches, convents. At no cost, though the wealthy hedged their bets with a donation of coin!
In England, You Can Camp in Abandoned Medieval Churches [article from twitter] http://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/in-england-you-can-camp-in-abandoned-medieval-churches
The Sunbirds have finished their nest and Mrs Bird is (I presume!) sitting on eggs. I’ll keep an eye on things. My camera software and computer are,apparently,not speaking so I have no new pictures today.If continued bad language still doesn’t work I’ll use a camera whose obsolete software is running on The Man’s computer…are you keeping up, you at the back! Here’s one from the other day…IMG_2615.JPG
And because “pretty” is important, here’s an impulse purchase of a Calla lily…Calla lily   IMG_0520.JPG
Oh! It’s December  the thirty oneth. If you’re off to drown the last of this decidedly iffy year, be careful. I need my readers to support my scribbling habit in 2017!
I wish you health, happiness and fewer idiots eligible to vote!

SUMER IS ICUMEN IN

Or, as is more likely to be heard in the northern parts of Australia: “Strewth! It’s bloody hot already!” Indeed it is. Some areas are getting the storms and some are getting left out.

I went with a couple of friends yesterday to see some linocuts which had been printed by a road roller. We drove south, watching the darkening clouds, quite expecting to get wet, but the clouds rolled away and dropped their load somewhere else. What I call Clayton’s storms.*

And the prints we’d expected to see were not on display!  We’d got the date wrong. Oops! So next week, perhaps we’ll try again.

There was a small exhibition by two local artists and the local handcraft store was open and we found a place to have some lunch so it was not a wasted day.

We were having lunch the other day when the garbage truck roared up the street and it was not our usual platypus-decorated one.So I grabbed the camera and raced out, bare feet hopping on the hot stones,just in time to catch this

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A bit fuzzy, but this truck ‘s scene depicts the Mackay Marina. I wonder how many cities have such swish garbage trucks?

In my last post I didn’t think to mention how I carry my alcohol. Literally speaking! In England a few years ago, I often popped into a small supermarket near my bus stop and got a couple of bottles of wine and some cheese, olives, grapes. The small necessities of life. And this supermarket is one that sells mostly “Fair Trade” comestibles.They also sold strongly-made cotton canvas six- bottle bags and I brought two back with me.They’ve been in regular use for over three years and show no signs of wear.Wish I’d brought more as everyone seems to want one!

Anyway, yesterday, I spotted thisIMG_0497.JPG

A two-bottle wine bag with a sense of humour. Mr LX, I’m sure your machine could do this! 🙂

I’m on watering duty for my neighbour and it’s time to swap out some hoses so I’ll leave you with a quick pic of a new Callistemon in my garden. It’s called Taree Pink, should any locals want to plant one. This is an accurate photo of its colour.IMG_0495.JPG

 

And the title of this post? Here’s a little musical accompaniment. I think you can follow the old English.Feel free to join the singers. Perhaps even skip about.

I’m going to christen my new pizza stone. Thanks for the tips, Mr.LX

 

 

 

*the storm you have when you’re not having a storm  see here:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claytons

ALMOST BACK TO NORMAL

Of course, “normal” may be interpreted in several ways…but for my purposes, let’s just say that I am now able to see a blean* at the end of the tunnel.

I tend to be one of those people who, when they see their plate has room for more, pile on more. Sometimes lots more. I’m not talking about the avoirdupois gluttony.No,no,no! The tendency to think I can tackle more than I can in the time I have available.That sort of more. And before I know it, my faint blean has become a ruddy bonfire, the sort that alerted towns miles along the coast that the enemy was in sight.

So, I’m relying on images to fill the space!

Yesterday morning,The Man suggested a walk down to the beach.So I put the little camera in my pocket…

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A Cairo vine.I think it’s  pretty, but it’s a frightful pest when it gets away!Here, it’s slugging it out with native mangroves along a drain.

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link http://keyserver.lucidcentral.org/weeds/data/media/Html/ipomoea_cairica.htm

This is Sunset Beach, looking north to  Bucasia. Technically, when the tide is out, you could get across the inlet to Bucasia Beach. A crocodile might fancy you as a snack though…

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These caught my eye.They look a little like cashews. But they aren’t.And I still don’t know what they are! Gnomes’ hats, maybe…

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Pyrostegia venusta . I’m guessing that, unless people prune it, next year that fence will be entirely draped in glowing orange flowers.

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Calliandra Not sure which, but probably C. haematocephala.

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When they say “beachfront living” this must be what they mean.Nice, innit?

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There is a local Embroidery Guild chapter whose members are very active. Here, we see a representation of a running dog, worked in tiny French Knots. No? How about a representation of a running dog, by Mick Tyris?

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“Here be pirates!” Well, a pirate’s hat.

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I’ll leave you with the local Surf Life Savers’ clubhouse. If you squint through the trees you can see the Pub With the Million Dollar View, my local watering hole, high on the cliff behind the clubhouse.

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Not a bad Sunday morning saunter. Mind you, the smell of sizzling bacon wafting from several places almost undid my resolve!

 

 

*  those of you who have read Liff will know.