school, surfing and spare time

Today I was called "mom" in class by a student--second time this has happened! It is rather funny but it's also a bit disconcerting because this hasn't happened to me before. Damo tells me I must be looking matronly.

While I still get this knot of reluctance (not quite dread) in my stomach when I think of going to work, it is a lot better than when I first started. It's just not as good as the holidays, of course. The kids are starting to get a bit more self-sufficient, settle into the routine of school and they are starting to listen to me. There are a few yucky malicious ones and the loud energetic-ness of grade 7s is a bit too much at times (12 year old boys don't talk, they shout), but overall, we're getting used to each other.

In other Nico news, I have now stood up on a surf board! It only took me four outings whereas Damo was up by the end of the first lesson but I'm a slow kinesthetic learner.

In other Damo news, I think he's addicted to Australian game shows. We might need an intervention.

Maria Island, Tasmania

March 17th and 18th, 2006

Maria Island National Park is located just off the eastern coast of Tasmania and is only accessible via 25 minute ferry ride. Cars are not allowed on the island. It has a long history with it being originally settled in the early 1800's as a penal colony (Tasmania is the home of 19th century penal colonies.) The settlement peaked sometime in the 20th century with over 600 people living on the island (well after its early penetentiary phase) and had a vineyard, a cement factory, quarry, wheat silos, etc.

All these buildings still remain in varying degrees of disrepair - some fully maintained (like the penetentiary in which we stayed the night) and some just bricks strewn across the landscape. From the base in Darlington (the old village) one can hike to goregous views in just a few minutes without running into another soul. It truly is stunning.


The painted cliffs are a short 45 minute hike from the main encampment and offer amazing views of Tasmania's coastline (not to mention the painted cliffs themselves.) The best part of Maria Island is the solitude you can experience by hiking a few kilometers from base camp.


That said...the solitude is can be interrupted by a hysterically crying thirteen year old girl in the next penetentiary dorm who didn't realize the thinly insulated walls resulted in us being able to hear every sob (over something that got wet or it was too dark or another relatively trivial matter) and every yell by an overbearing father that failed utterly in calming down a hysterical brat.

Ya, that's the penetentiary below where we thumbed our noses at the ghosts of ex-convicts and managed to survive what would have been a well-rested evening if not for the sobs of the teenaged girl and our OVERLY HEATED accomodations...apparently those old wood stoves can generate temperatures approaching that of the sun...

one woolly wombat

Wombats, aboriginal for Bloodlust, are vile creatures that can strip the flesh from a freshly killed carcass in seconds flat, leaping up to twenty feet from a standing position to murder its prey in a cold blooded feeding frenzy. We came across this little critter in the wilds of Maria Island, Tasmania.






Fortunately, Nicole had some GHB handy (I'm not sure why she maintains a supply of it, a fact which is worthy of some follow-up questions on my part) so we subdued it with a healthy dose in order to examine it closely.

Hop Skip and a Jump

So you want kangaroos, do you? Well, we have plenty of kangaroo moments caught on film for your viewing pleasure! Smart people like me feed only the smaller cute ones. They must be the moms and young 'uns. Up close, these little ones are like pretty deer-rabbits creatures with their big brown eyes.







Damo likes to live dangerously so at the wildlife park he decided to sit down (first mistake) and feed the big males (second mistake). Here he is in various stages of getting mobbed by a mob of 'roos.







Lastly, we have Kanga and Roo. The joey (almost half the size of his mom) has just jumped into the pouch. How she fits all of him in there, we just don't know. It must be stuffy but we didn't see any joeys peek out--all you see are feet and maybe a tail. We think it's because the milk is way down in the pockets so once they dive in head first, they stay that way to take advantage of the open bar.


Ballarat, March 5th, 2006

Speedos...Time for Some Booze!

There's only one way to respond to Nicole's post with photos of men-folk sporting overly tight speedos. With booze...and lots of it! It's the only way to drown the images that have been forever etched into my brain. I mean it was bad enough being there, but having it reinforced with photographic evidence. Arg. It's enough to make a grown straight man cry.

So...ya, booze. Um...that's not booze, but it is the wonderful fruit (different from the 'fruits' in Nicole's post) called 'grape' that becomes the second best booze - wine. We hit Penola on January 20th. It's the gateway to the Cooawarra wine region renowned for its Cabernet Sauvignon and to a lesser extent its Shiraz. Since I had driven the whole way from Sydney down along the Great Ocean Road (over 3000 KM in total) Nicole had the pleasure of chauffering me around to all the cellar doors! We only hit about 8 or so but I was nicely buzzed by the end of it - and the price was right - FREE!

Now, that's better, clearly booze. This was taken after a wonderful dinner later that evening. We met Cathy & Mark at a pub who invited us over for Kangaroo steaks and wine. Never knowing when enough is enough as Wray and Marsh, and, well, just about anyone in the Calgary gang, can attest to, by the time this photo was taken we had made our way onto scotch. The walk home back to our cabin was quite enjoyable. Nico the babysitter looking after a completely innebriated & stumbling damo. Kangaroo steaks are yummy, I don't know why there was that big outcry when it was found that Aussie made pet food had kangaroo meat in it. Boohoo. There's over a hundred million of the things hopping all over the place. It's not like you're eating a panda or something.

And, to clearly wash the images of the previous post from everyone's mind, here's one for the boys.

Oh...hehe...let's try again here...someone not from the 1970's Russian womens' hockey team.

Ahhh...much better...someone that would make even the overly discerning Fearman proud! The horrors of the previous post are now clearly washed from memory and we can all sleep easy once again. Your welcome.