Jeanie in Paradise

Since then

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 10:40:53 +0000

Weekend with the parents.

Specialist appointment for Dad.

Colonoscopy for me (all as tickety-boo as one wants one's colon to oscope about)

Bad poetry.

Still loving Paradise 2 but the honeymoon is over and the ports have been unpacked.

The oven has proven why you don't buy ovens in a supermarket which apparently occurred prior to our purchase of the house.

The light over the stove doesn't work.

There is no variation on the flame - high or low - and the ignition doesn't ignite.

I am laying blame at the imperfect door of said oven for the worst outcome ever of the perpetual experiment that is sourdough.

Paid a fortune for my car to undergo a prophylactic procedure for timing issues.

Had a book club gathering - made pikelets and lemon butter. Discussed Heart the Lover by Lily King and Yesteryear by Caro Claire Bourke.

Discovered that the tricolour is blue white and red to the right.

Am now attending the gym on a semi regular basis.

V had a futile few hours with medical professionals who want to try again in Brisbane.

Spent another little fortune to the mechanic to attach a new mirror.

In the gaps work, driving Paris to and from work and sleep.

(Apologies in advance for the use of the vernacular in the below)

My day "home"

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Fri, 15 May 2026 13:29:36 +0000

So today I had an RDO.

An RDO is when the half-hour extra that you work every day is all smooshed together and you can take a day off.

When I first started work way back when, we started earlier, worked later for less and never got a day off just because.

And then I spent decades a temp.

At first it was fun.

New focii every week. New people, new buildings, new jobs.

But that life changed with time and place and by the end I was juggling three long-term part-time passion projects.

And then I had that horrible full-time reminder of all that I had hated in previous corporate life that had sent me to the impermanent workforce in the first place.

Flood relief was the first ever temporary job that had offered RDOs, but it was not until this job that I got to appreciate the advantage of them.

So today I had an RDO.

One month and one day since moving in.

My fourth - maybe fifth - "at home" day since moving in and it was to be devoted to doing home things. I had such plans.

However gym. Fuel. Drive by old house.

Appointment. Electronics store. Op shop. Furniture store. Shopping centre. Accidental cousin connection. Weird childhood connection. Department store. Electronics store. Into the city on our way home to another electronics store.

Amazing sandwich shop for takeaway sandwiches which epitomises delight. Decision made we drove back to the electronics store in the shopping centre and bought ourselves a big-assed TV.

Then school collection, television setup, taxiing and shopping for Mum and Dad ('Salina and I are heading out there tomorrow), home for a shower and printing then poetry before being driven home by an L-plater.

A leisurely day never stood a chance, did it!

I am clinging on to

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 11 May 2026 12:40:00 +0000

short sleeves here.

I am defiant against the approaching Winter

Giving no heed to the speed of the passing of days

Where nights' flights of fancy imagine that it's not that cold yet here.

~~~

Image: girl, 10 pin bowling alley, lighting...

A Paris interruption:

You never think a vegetable is gonna call you

But then onion rings.

Image: New Paradise Eastern aspect

It's really hard to get back into serious poetry when there is a comedy show here at bedtime.

Image: later that day

~~~

I am clinging on to short sleeves here.

I am defiant against the approaching Winter

Giving no heed to the speed of the passing of days

Where nights' flights of fancy imagine that it's not that cold yet here

It's not that cold - yet

Here nips the wind a little harder.

Here pokes the shards of icicles twixt nerve endings

And the hope that I hold of

Warmer weather never losing my enthrall.

~~~

Image: the bedside table lamps who were winning the game of hide and seek

I had my fourth full at home day since moving on Saturday. I had an ambitious list and completed almost half.

Image: sewing boxes

Mother's Day I got to spend with my girls and V, failing at furniture shopping (a lot of gob-smacking was undertaken), lunching, cuddling kittens, bowling, cooking, eating.

Image: culturally-appropriated stir fried rice and vegetables

Today I worked and then came home and cooked culturally-appropriated stir fried rice and vegetables,

Image: Diana Chan's Korean Beef Dumplings

Diana Chan's Korean Beef Dumplings and poached eggs.

Image: meme saying "Don't let anyone talk you out of spending$35 on plants.

That $84 will be the best $176 you ever spent."

I am pooped and it's not even Tuesday.

You?

Social

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Wed, 06 May 2026 12:51:00 +0000

I am generally a pretty private person. On a scale I would see myself as a maybe six in sociability. I do get energized with a certain amount of people but too many - like a party - or too chaotic - like a party - has me seeking quiet corners or escape.

It's where and why I used to write so much before kids.

One or two people that I click with - perfect. A half dozen friends of friends - small doses.

Fifty family. An hour or two, but looking for a quiet role by the second.

Holding court - if I have a role or am performing no problem at all. But never when ill-prepared or put on the spot.

Family members one on one - eminently doable. I love most of my big wide family one-on-one. It's when you throw more people into mix. Same with friends.

Alone. Bliss. As long as there is a book or a pen and paper I am made. Kitchen. Ingredients. Yes please.

I have written a true account of people that I know for a funeral on Friday. It will be given then.

What about you? What people mix works best for you?

Instead of

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 04 May 2026 01:47:00 +0000

Setting up the kitchen on this so very rare events when day off and being at home coincide.

But instead I am hiding in the "Throne Room" away from Kryon, out robot vacuum.

Anyone else occasionally think that the Jetsons have finally arrived?

G and I hung outside for a bit, smelling everything that the garden had to offer until it got really spooky when the hedge rustled and I thought that this was not an experiment I was yet ready to continue.

I think that she is secretly happy to be back inside. She has successfully hunted several flies and her only predator is Keyton.

These are two very special reasons that I am away from home quite a bit these days.

Very much the egg salad of sandwich generation.

Thursday one week later

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Thu, 30 Apr 2026 13:06:00 +0000

It was going to be Wednesday, but Wednesday got away from me.

Let's see, I

Image: best breakfast ever - toast with Dad's marmalade; toast with Vegemite, avocado, cracked pepper and lemon juice; and Ruby Grapefruit juice and soda water.

I did a bit of adulting on the weekend. I hired a car (courtesy of fuel supply instability, economy and prudence) when this last weekend was planned.

I learned how to swap my brain around to European mode for lights and indicators vs windscreen wipers.

Image - electronic flyer for Staerstone by H. k. Stubbs

I went to an art show. (Lost and Found by a friend. I will get her link - it closed last night)
I visited my aunt.
I saw a friend from pre-'Salina days who is launching a book.

Image - buckwheat wraps for Saturday's breakfast at a creekside cafe

I saw friends from University days and ate very, very well indeed.
We discussed many things and watched Northern Exposure and I am so very grateful that I have been blessed with such friends

Image: pineapples book ending massive grapefruit in a wooden tray

I took a tour of my aunt's future home

Image - oven-roasted Barramundi with broccoli, onion, zucchini, sweet potato, and tomato. The lemon wedges were from my tree.

I got lost coming out of a freeway-side service centre with an open fast food option and spent half an hour of dark roads turning back on themselves time and again - the Traveston Triangle

Image - greens including basil, rocket and spinach freshly harvested and dressed with scrambled eggs, grilled haloumi and stall-bought chutney.

PSA don't drive a tiny NSW hire car in the dark on the M1 (or Bruce Highway) after peak hour on a weeknight when the truckies consider it theirs.

I eventually relearned how to swap my brain back right to local mode for windscreen wipers vs lights and indicators.
I saw my brother and my Dad.

I was reader at an event at the beautiful little bookshop that also hosts the poetry and my book-club.

And I signed up for the gym with Paris. It's May Day tomorrow.

What did I miss?

Keeping your head down

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Thu, 23 Apr 2026 13:45:00 +0000

There are times in lives when you must live by the rule of keeping your head down and your nose clean.

Some people have long stints of it. Imagine living in a war zone! For some it's a way of life. There are those who fake the confidence and keep plates spinning . And then those who have a spike in merde attached to shorter periods.

Like for about 18 hours of my day today.

I heard the dishwasher in the wee hours singing a happy tune.

I heard V get up before me. He had a torrid few hours the night before for this reason and that.

I heard the cat.

Image: meme of Condescending Mediaeval Owls

These were not intrusive sounds. I did not know they were the sinister harbingers of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I do exaggerate.

But when I went in to my usually empty pre-dawn kitchen my husband greeted me with "happy birthday" and "where do we keep the tea now".

This in itself was in no way terrible. And yet this scene could really be used to juxtapose against the future horrors.

My sister messaged. Again, in no way an issue. We generally get a lot of chitter and reel swapping and Scotland plans together.

My computer, where tasks of bureaucracy before breakfast awaited. Thursday stuff.

Or rather, a plastic box or electrical components designed to frustrate me awaited like a baited trap.

So my next two hours was battling that dragon.

Very, VERY first world.

Then breakfast. Good.

Then teenager.

Hmph.

There is a good dose of me in Paris. And there is a decent dose of V.

There are occasions when that combo is awesome.

And there are times when she can bring out the suboptimal teenager's mother and there are times when the suboptimal teenager's mother gets to look in the mirror.

So on the upside I didn't have to do the school run this morning. And I had an additional phone, so winning.

I did get sung to on the way to work by 'Salina. That was a bright spot.

The podcast that I am listening to on my commute stopped playing mid-sentence about a block before i got there.

The acoustics of my desk must have blocked the greeting from Keith over the divide, or perhaps the deathly silence from my workmates at the Far North of my work corridor froze the soundwaves.

It seemed like the rings of business damnation were used to heat my workload today. Email duels were enacted in my inbox. Confounding formulas required rejigs and macro dances recalibrating, whilst meetings about data pulling bled into lunch breaks and the sheer stupidity of a few added a sheen of incredulity to the whole eight hours.

Dad called for my birthday on the way home. Even when 'Salina had called him this morning to wish him a happy anniversary of being a father it took some consulting of the calendar and deduction (with a final push from my sister) before he twigged.

It's been a few years since Mum was the instigator of birthday call and song.

I did buy myself some wine and it was a label that I recognised from my range of cheap but drinkable Pinot Gris, but it was not from my old local bottle oh.

I had not made my birthday cake this year and had booked for us to go to a decent Asian restaurant.

But do you know what? I did not feel like hopping in the car to go out and nor did anyone else so 'Salina agreed to collect the order and come to ours.

Image: wait time for take away

The final twist in the tale was the restaurant gave our takeout to the lady with the little boy and brown hair who said "yes, I am Jeanie here for my order" just minutes before.

However, blessings be, the restaurant remade the order completely and it was fabulous and the store bought cake divine and presents on point and I even won the last 2 games of Uno.

One week

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Tue, 21 Apr 2026 12:48:00 +0000

Image: lemon tree, very pretty, and the lemon flower so sweet

When life gives you lemons, these are the lemons you want to get.

Image: black cat on the farthest point from civilisation she could find.

G is starting to have it on a string around here. She has been reacquainted with some furniture and while we are still to some degree camping, there are bits that are starting to feel like home.

Image: meme of a post by iwansk_the_urban_hillbilly

Human: That's my coat that I need to hang up.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: That's a laptop computer.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: That's a box of important documents.

Cat: This is a bed.

Human: Here. I bought you a cat bed.

Cat: I don't even know what that is.

I have heard rumours that the above is untrue, but I have never independently witnessed proof.

Late night - T+5

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sat, 18 Apr 2026 23:01:00 +0000

Oh my. I always forget that the best laid plans etc etc...

This is actually fairly reasonable time in the morning of the day after - I hit the wall last night and slept until well after the sun was up this Sunday morning... but why ruin a good parallel (even if I am the only one who can see it) with the truth!

So the move happened.

While the panic merchant within me always foresees disaster (& V doubly-so), all potential missteps throughout the day were pulled out of the fire at the last minute, so we will count it all as a win.

Let me lay the deck of the last five days.

Image: a cafe table laden with food - V had corn fritters with a poached egg and avocado and Paris and I both went for the smashed avocado which is served with marinated mushrooms and feta on sourdough toast with baby spinach,a poached egg and a wedge of lemon. The garlic on those mushrooms was next level.

Optimism started our Tuesday. We could do this.

I was tempering my urge to crack the whip for it needed a crack. However the payoff was a delicious breakfast together.

Image: higgledy-piggledy collection of furniture and mattresses that greeted us after the removalist left - thank goodness the refrigerator isn't in that mess because that may have broken us.

I shall not give you a blow by blow account of the day, but this is the result of some blokes wanting to knock off early. One should not have to haul furniture when you are paying someone to do so for you. Thank goodness for Paris and her boyfriend to lend some muscle to the unearthing of beds, table and chairs.

Image: Avocado, toast with toppings, jar of marmalade and a lemon whose diameter equated to that of a piece of toast.

I must admit, I did not breakfast on our first full day at the new abode - I woke with my traditional "post major event" migraine that comes from running around like a headless chook and not eating and drinking properly.

My favourite breakfast is one slice of toast with marmalade - currently on a jar of Dad's grapefruit but previously had a cracking half-jar of lime using Mrs Breton's method. I have a prolific lime tree beside my driveway..

And the other slice with Vegemite, avocado, lemon juice and cracked pepper. That lemon is courtesy of the tree on the OTHER side of my driveway. B-L-I-S-S

I was back at work on Thursday and Friday, however work is now less than a quarter hour away so I get home in time to truly enjoy a bit of afternoon and the occasional sunset.

Image: wooden paling fence dominated by gum trees from the park beyond and a most delicious array of colours across the sky courtesy of sunset.

Not too shabby - although that back fence is on the "to do" list as it is probably the most rickety of all components of the new home.

We have been doing a bit of that - compiling the list of what needs to be ticked off.

Image: Dawn sky backlighting power poles and palm trees with a spray of cirrocumulus (please correct me if I am wrong) clouds.

Doesn't stint on the dawns either.

The "new washing machine" wheels were already in motion but took a little time to get the tick because a warehouse far, far away failed to send one part - we finally got a partial tick on Friday afternoon and so a lot of my Saturday (after that gorgeous dawn) was putting through laundry that had piled up since the old washing machine got sent to washing machine heaven last week.

Image: box of clothes that I don't fit into, that neither daughter will ever wear and which I will pass along to an op shop in the hope that someone will enjoy

I have let go of some memory boxes and considered it the first step towards Swedish death cleansing. Its and tiny step when I contemplate the boxes still in the back shed to be opened and sorted through.

I have nearly fully set up the spare room and office, the kitchen I would declare as about 40% done (hopefully closer to 80% by the end of day today) and I have access to all of my clothes - well, those left after a cull!

Image: boxes and cardboard packaging from the monitor.

Now, what do you see?

I see a robot's head , but from a slightly different angle I see a Nutcracker. Could come in handy for the "OMG we have moved to a competitive level Christmas neighbourhood" panic. Which is when we will discover just how uncrafty I am.

Image: Gangsterrr hiding out in the top of Paris' cupboard.

The G is still very VERY wary of the new digs. Every bedroom has built-in cupboards with one mirror slider on each - and she is none too pleased with there being another cat in every room she visits.

Image: as table set for two with flowers and curries and a tiny tele with a tiny man talking about gardens

While Paris was on shift last night, V and I had our first "home cooked" (well, unearthed from freezer) meal.

This is as romantic as we get - I believe that goat compost was being discussed on our viewing of choice. We may not extend to goat compost ourselves.

Image: A smiling sandwich

So it may not have the beach (its now 15 minutes away), we are definitely relaxing and enjoying our new Paradise.

Work is 12 minutes away - although when school goes back tomorrow I will have to go back to leaving at the usual time unless V takes Paris in the mornings, as it is no longer "on my way" but a very slight backtrack.

Paris' work is less than 10 minutes away, saving us over an hour each shift in travel time (and the fuel!).

No more 14 stairs each time you need to go to the garden, the laundry, the car.

Ahhh,

So how was everyone else's week?

Twas the night before

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 13:09:00 +0000

moving

And all through the house

Were boxes and bags and bits and pieces yet to be done

But I am done from the organisation exhaustion.

Of the trying to manage every moving part without looking like you are doing it.

I find the best disguise is to appear as inept as possible and they would never guess. Do never guess.

I've been successful in that subterfuge so far.

Image: flavours packed in the working pantry boxes on the waist height level of the box wall in the kitchen (Peach iced tea, pink grapefruit, lemon, lime and bitters - 3 Bickford's cordials - and Buderim ginger's ginger refresher)

I have managed to pull off quite a few items on the checklist today, but I really didn't help myself by leaving my phone in V's ute when I went to redirect mail and he the shops.

Image: pills, keys and a box of redheads matches

I contemplated using the payphone nearby, but there was a crazy guy on hold to a Monday & already overworked public service employee. Or maybe everyone using a payphone on a Monday afternoon exudes a certain madness. Maybe it was his Mum.

Next block two closing down signs. Both retiring, it seems.

I turned and started to walk along the main street into town in the hope of intercepting V.

Another block to the servo, and asked to use their phone to call him.

Image: an I ❤️ Paris with the Eiffel Tower pink cushion, an aqua and turquoise and gold (or whatever colour you call them) and black butterfly 🦋 cushion and a purple cushion with golden trim cushion on a faux timber background.

The guys at the servo were amazed that I knew someone's number as it seems in this day and age we are forced to think less so often. A good discussion ensued.

Image: Gangsterrrrr reclining on white laminate furniture, pink necklace showing off yellow tags highlighting the green in her eyes.

I left a voice to text message and left the servo and not 20 metres from their door I saw V's ute sail past towards the Post Office.

Only Four blocks, I think. He will find me about half way. I'll be fine in my "dress up for appointments in town and nice slip on shoes that are fine for nothing so serious as a seven block walk level too serious" outfit and shoes.

How quaint and old fashioned, I thought. No photo opportunities, no notifications, no "I should look up" interruptions or other people's ideas.

My big toe on my left foot by the fifth block began to whine just a little bit. That was annoying.

Image: Gangsterrrrr investigates rocks in the backyard of Paradise.

The sixth block had this beautiful arbour of eucalypts at one point, completely crazy because they had a severe flattop just below the powerlines.

By Seven I was resigned to walking the rest of the way.

I turned towards home and could see the driveway V had not yet arrived home.

I climbed the fourteen steps for one of the last times as he pulled in.

My right foot told me that it too was putting a complaint in to the union.

Image: meme borrowed shamelessly from the internet. If it's yours all credit to you ma'am or sir, you are quicker and wittier than I. It says "hi, sorry it took me five days to get back to your text. I myself am understaffed at the moment"

And tonight as I lay in bed avoiding my brain taking me through the list that I have to do tomorrow, my Gluteus Maximus, hips and the tendon straps holding them together have a chanting chorus that is not complimentary to the footwear of choice this afternoon.

My beautiful, gorgeous, talented, genius, hilarious and perfect daughter has just been told to go to bed, and so should I.

This time tomorrow..

We are entering the lasts...

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 06 Apr 2026 11:26:00 +0000

Image: a black cat, young and sweet, supervises the packing, working out where she could fit.

It wasn't a very Eastery Easter, was it? Well, not for me. There is a lot to digest in the world right now. That and, well, we are moving in 8 days.

So driving, gathering and feasting were low on the priority list.

Image: yes, Ms Gangsterrrrr, I am aware of the too much stuff too little room theory of relativity.

Mind you, while I have had a weekend of pedalling furiously, I fear that little of it got results.

So the teensy tiny bit of socialising that I did have was welcome.

Image: artful organisation of boxes to allow a little black cat a few hidey holes.

Still, it's going to happen whether I am ready or not.

This whole move thing.

Image: she'll be apples - or maybe pears on special at a local Coles.

It has also unearthed artifacts of us, our civilisation of this ground for 19 1/2 years.

One of the memories unearthed was of printing and sticking labels onto school stationery. Suddenly, whilst realising that while we would never do that in Paradise again, I also realised that I may never cover stationary again.

How liberating.

Image: may be the last pikelets cooked at Chez Paradise - but definitely the first cooked in the you beaut frypan Dad picked up in a "two for the price of one" tv deal.

I do make a mean pikelet though, and am looking forward to continue that in - what should the next place be called?

Image: apologies to Mum and my grandmothers for the language - but they would have appreciated the sentiment.

To work tomorrow - heigh ho. Four days to next five day stretch in which the move will happen.

Hi Vue

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sat, 04 Apr 2026 13:21:00 +0000

Image: red natal in afternoon sun. I sound like I know what I am talking about, but in reality it's "that pretty one with feathery seed heads that don't taste quite as nice as buffel" corrected by my gardening authority, auntie b.

Image: yep, auntie b and Dad both would tell you what all of this is. Mum would have known too. Anyway, all I can see is crap composition. Isn't self-talk rude!

Image: DOP 'Salina photographer 'Salina. The subject didn't quite get the camouflage but got darned close.

Image: needs no camouflage, a gum that could probably tell a few yarns, grounded on a flat, reaching into the clouds, with a chorus line of rocks and trees.

Image: the house on the top of a hill

Image: fiery sunset puffing purple, silhouetting leaves and trunks and hills.

We spent a 24 hour period with Mum and Dad. It's fleeting and too far to next time but time is not easy to grasp in the current clime.

Image: pink flower. Have I mentioned that I suck at this game? The Inner circle of yellow flowers raises it to very pretty status.

Image: fog encroaching: it was even visible on the veranda to the naked eye.

Image: if you look very closely there is an amorous - we, he's pestering and she's saying "we aren't freaking rabbits, Walter"- couple of 'roos and a Magpie looks on. Probably not a Magpie because why would a girl who for the majority of her life hasn't been able to see distance even contemplate bird identification? Who needs to get that close?

I wrote a poem. It's not getting published. It's not a good poem and went to places we do not need to explore together.

Image: what this Easter Bunny gave this year to Mum and Dad - over 50 years as chocolate manager for these people and I have finally got the memo.

If it fails, it's compost. Move on. Learn with dirt on your hands. When a gardener is asked for just one tip you'll get more, possibly a cutting and some surplus in pickle or marmalade form. (Advice given on a gardening forum. If clarification required, not by auntie b OR Dad. By me, if you need to know)

Image: Paradise Skyline backlit in a palette I call delightful.

10 days.

It's Maundy Thursday

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 12:43:00 +0000

apparently. I know nothing of such titles, for although we weren't a pagan family, our brand of Anglican was very easygoing on connection with all that ritual nonsense. Pragmatic. And very non-maundy. Two big days across a long weekend was enough, more would be overreach.

Image: "Proof of Life (but doesn't my hand look weird)" DOP Paris photography by Jeanie

So, anyway. Easter. Why am I always surprised that it's full moon at Easter? Like d'uh!

Image: proof of celestial wonder- glorious clouds backlit by the high beam of the full moon.

I remember getting into so much trouble, saying "d'uh". It is pretty rude when you think about it. Its so much the pity that the acceptance of "d'uh" back then led them to break a pathway to people being attacked in broad daylight for traffic infringements as our new normal.

Image: spotlight on the noisy fan;

Blue baseline gurgle from the cat's water fountain.

We should have all clutched our pearls like my beautiful mother and we would have all been nicer to each other.

Image: Proof of procrastinating - the last gluten-free sourdough cinnamon scrolls and the last hot cross pumpkin scone.

Maybe.

Image: unedited photo by Paris. I think that Gangsterrrrr should sue. Probably should have used when she got bestowed her blog name.

Anyhow, tomorrow I travel 200km (yes, on a public holiday with threats of diesel rationing but with the justification of its Easter, and it's Mum and Dad) and will be re-listening to "Waking Romeo" by Kathryn Barker (Goodreads link)

Image: Luddite Jeanie can't work out - or can't be bothered to learn - how to do the book covers like the cool kids do.

I have to confess, the musical I was to see with 'Salina and Paris after book-club on Sunday was a bust! I had caused her to give a seat donation the week before, and she had caused us the same as we got the dates mixed up!

Image: a far more flattering angle of G, black cat, pink collar, yellow band bringing out the green-yellow of her eyes.

I once did that with a GYG order. Ordered in the carpark at work but spun the counter too far ahead so was going to get my enchiladas the next day instead of just another half hour ahead.

We had 'Salina over here twice this week. The first time we had a meeting of the cats, as a plan is afoot to get them to be friends.

That may take awhile.

12 days to go.

Bonus question: what sort of insult is "cinnamon blue"?

Link to trove

Happy (?!) Easter everyone.

It's not the final countdown.

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sat, 28 Mar 2026 14:05:00 +0000

So what did I do besides packing today?

Why five loads of washing kind sir, kind sir,

Why five loads of washing kind sir.

So what else did I do besides packing today, you say?

Well, four fragrant curries, kind sir, kind sir,

Four fragrant curries and five loads of washing kind sir.

So what else did I do besides packing today?

Three sat at table and dined , kind sir,

Three sat at table eating four fragrant curries,

and five loads of washing kind sir.

What else did I do besides packing today?

Two visits to shops to concoct

two dozen hot-cross pumpkin scones

Twelve gluten-free cinnabons

Two phone calls

Twice washed up and kerfuffled around

Then

Three sat at table eating four fragrant curries,

And five loads of washing kind sir.

How did I go with my packing today?

I wrote one poem and blogged.

Why did Young Miss Jeanie cross the street

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Thu, 26 Mar 2026 13:05:00 +0000

In a discussion on the balcony, well past the Ocean Twilight this evening, V remarked about the attitude of 12 year old V's lack of fear or regard crossing 5 lanes of traffic.

Image: this picture of buildings, cars and roads is not the childhood home of anyone I know. It is a historic Google maps screenshot of a pub that I think that I used to know in Sydney.

Which just proves what a massive contrast is his childhood to mine. He had bike grease and baseball gloves, I had saddle grease and cows.

My need to ever cross lanes of traffic were limited to hardly ever.

Image: also not the childhood home of anyone I know, rather a screenshot of a random street view of Oknaxoma, Cuba

There were no streets at my home as I lived in the country.

The school bus took me from the bike box to school and back, genuinely door to door.

Grandma J lived on a corner on a hill and anywhere travelled to from there was in a car, the rover or a truck.

Grandma M had a side lane, and the shops on the block at the top were all a girl like me would ever need. The bakery had the most alluring concoctions in its display case. The need to do what my grandmother had instructed me to do was always just slightly stronger than my desire was ever allowed to be.

Image: in keeping with theme, not the alluring concoctions, but instead one of the things that I will definitely miss about Paradise is the fantastic red grapefruit. The new house does have citrus - hurrah - but orange, mandarin, lime a baby lemon (I think) and a standard grapefruit.

My Aunty Elsie lived across a lane at the back of the main street in the little town we lived near, you could sneak through beside the newspaper premises. That was the closest that I ever came to crossing a road independently.

Image: happy to acknowledge the original site (Real Commercial) for this arial shot of Aunty Elsie's neighbourhood 45 years later. There is no newspaper premises - or newspaper of a size needing a building - any more.

I mean, I even lived at my high school. Not many roads to cross there!

I could, however, ride a horse and muster, and if our August nights were smoky it meant that we were anticipating a good season.

Image: I hayed - not hated, AI overlords - half the meadow in the back yesterday afternoon - I was working from home and used the commute time wisely

So what was your skill at 12?

Were you stronger, taller, smarter?

Image: our queen, O Sabrina Gangstaa Fudge

Could you ventriloquise (is that even a word)?

(BTW this qualifies - just, I am sure - for River's Words for Wednesday - check it out)

Now, where was I?

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Tue, 24 Mar 2026 12:25:00 +0000

On the upside, we have a date

In exactly 3 weeks we will have a different outlook.

I had a 4 year NED appointment with my amazing surgeon on Sunday - I took Paris and her boyfriend (I know!) for a flying visit to the next big town down.

Unfortunately we were unable to get back to see "& Juliet" with 'Salina in time, so we're doing that with her next week after book club.

Don't I sound like a social butterfly suddenly!

BTW I am not sure but I think that the above is possibly the shoe store that had the play in it in the early 90s that I went to that I would have blogged about last time except the phone - or an errant drag of the finger - destroyed it instead.

Yes. Still not ready to let it go, am I?

BTW - I have a question for you

I will also be reading at an upcoming "Champers and chapters" event and the democratic process that I will be using is deciding for myself HOWEVER if you were given the same opportunity, what would you choose and why.

Good Night

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Fri, 20 Mar 2026 13:19:00 +0000

It has been a day.

Aargh and continued right to the end.

A whole post lost.

It was a good one too.

Take my word for it.

How to make Traffic Jam

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Thu, 12 Mar 2026 09:38:00 +0000

First, prepare your pots. Pre-season with a deluge, smeared well right up into the nooks and crannies of your headwaters then let it flow well towards your cooking range. This can be prepared up to 3 days in advance.

Ingredients:

3/4 of the people in a 200km radius who needed to come into town in the last 3 days
3/4 of the people who have wanted to leave town in the last 3 days
3/4 of the people who had been working from home heading into the office after 3 days (i.e. Jeanie)
3/4 of the school students returning to school after 2-3 days (i.e. Paris)
3/4 of the rubbernecker's doing a little flood tourism

Method:

Put all of the above into cars on any of the 3 ways Jeanie can travel to work.

Open both bridges across the river.

Let jam set.

For additional spice, ensure that at the very end of this colossal trip Jeanie should remember that she forgot one vital item for returning to work.

Yep. The laptop was still in Paradise.

Well, that was an unexpected

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 09 Mar 2026 11:01:00 +0000

Sort of Monday.

I awoke to the inland meeting with the ocean in my front yard.

Image: the ute with the remains of an optimist start to the March lawnmowing season. Beyond is the stormwater system of the easterly reaches of the nearby big town plus a lot of rain overnight.

I sent my apologies to my yoga instructor at 5am - a pity as my body (& probably my mind) really needed yoga.

Image: the stormwater drain and the flat beyond

An hour later and I was asked if I thought that perhaps it would be best if Paris take advantage of inclement weather and I thought that I had answered "we will see" which translated into her language as "what a great idea".

I wasn't going to argue. I had one deadline at work that I really had to achieve and by then the water had subsided to

Image: freshly washed streets

So I went to work leaving her at home with V.

Well, it rained and rained and rained some more.

Image: satellite weather map

I met my deadline and went to grab a coffee from the kitchen and when I came back the bosses were saying "if anyone foresees difficulties getting home, go now' but I thought that I would be fine. Then I got a message that school was asking all parents to collect children. And then V sent this

Image: the ute with the remains of an optimist start to the March lawnmowing season. Beyond is the stormwater system of the easterly reaches of the nearby big town plus a lot of rain overnight. So yes, exactly like the first shot but later in the day

And I realised that the get out of dodge call might possibly apply to me.

So I drove from big town to Paradise and it rained and it rained and it rained.

I stopped at the shops in the hopes of our street subsiding a little but have a guess as to what it was doing outside while I was in the shops?

That is correct. Rained. And rained.

And rained.

There was a little pause and I discussed strategy with V.

On the street, it is wide but not deep, there is no flow, just volume.

Once I was safely home, guess what it did.

Yep.

Image: the rain gauge. I can't read it from here.

I nibbled things for lunch and set up my computer for work.

The office/spare room has a dimmable switch.

Unfortunately we made a tactical error when last we replaced the bulbs and occasionally we get to learn the "and this is why you don't buy cheap" lesson - but sometimes wobbling the controls fixes it and sometimes it's not for too long a duration before the strobe disappears and you are relulled into a sense of security...

This afternoon the lesson went on to level up. I learnt the "why haven't you solved this problem yet" lesson on pulsating colour. Well, the theory part of the lesson (as the practical would require me going back to big town).

However I (well, V) solved this by unearthing where the lantern was and I resumed work as there is another report that I should be doing.

Image: more of the same

Well, after about an hour of faffing around the data I needed for this was still unavailable and I declared defeat.

Just have to find something else to occupy myself with.

Image: box cookie kit

Image: out of the box cookies.

Very, very crunchy. Possibly dunkable.

Image: water receding at sunset in Paradise

Image: the view from the kitchen prep bench. If you look hard I am sort of in this shot.

Now watching baseball and wondering at reports of more.

But it feels like it's done.

And yes. Best dunked.

Come Sunday with Jeanie

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sun, 08 Mar 2026 13:39:00 +0000

Two disclaimers today - the usual #notaphotographer and Blogger photograph insertion order malarkey.

Image: very well stacked station wagon.

There WAS science on the final load from the storage unit back to home.

We will be moving in 1-3 months (still a movable feast in the hands of lawyers and the domino setting) and I want some fit, healthy young people to do the pick it all up and take it all there transaction in one fell swoop.

Image: the wall of bamboo

V planted for privacy for both the neighbours and ourselves, now a whole ecosystem offering home to many birds.

Image:palm trees along the Esplanade

Image: what I am looking at, cat, is the back yard.

Yes we will miss the height but not the fourteen steps to attain it.

Image: from the washing up sink

This is the picture that was meant to start my narrative. It was going to be reflective yet anticipatory, then something about the cat before I did any out of the housing.

Image: see this is so terribly out of order - blogger, this is like someone tripped over on their way to a slideshow presentation in the 1980s and they fell over and the whole tray went upside down and they have just been shoved back in hoping nobody would notice. We noticed!

Image: see what I mean. This basket of blue towels has become bereft of meaning in this part of the narrative!

Image: boxes stacked and two tapestries done by Grandma J.

Images: right to left - abstract by KOH; portrait of mother by 'Salina; monacled whale by Jeanie, paired abstract by KOH...

Images: untitled collaboration between Paris and 'Salina; part of amazing sunflower print found at an op shop and poster of "les enfants du Paris" that I have had for at least the last 30 years

Images: Bush Babe of Oz photograph of Riders and various artworks by 'Salina inspired by or for Paris.

Image: crackers pre-oven - I may have had a dummy spit on the first photo for the cooking theme today.

Image: post oven.

Image: our own little Dragon

Image: the view from the passenger seat with Paris driving!

Image: Palms. Rain.

Image: in the distance, a house with a sold sticker

Five Photos on a Friday

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Fri, 06 Mar 2026 12:16:00 +0000

This post carries my usual #notaphotographer disclaimer.

I have actually managed to work River's Words for Wednesday in to the below.

Image: Attention! Eight Upright Cranes Against the Brisbane Skyline

Isn't it funny what you find when you randomly hit upon photographic memories of the past? This is from a few years ago now. I remember being bemused by Brisbane's constant reimagining of herself and fluffing up her property like peacock plumes.

Image: A Very Well-Watered Gauge

My whole family have always measured the rain - actually no, I lie. There was a time when living interstate or in Brisbane that I didn't, however I now have a good few years of data here and I could never envisage not doing so.

My Grandma M used to measure with a jam tin and ruler, which helped me to understand and really visualise why rain is measured in millimetres (or inches) rather than millilitres (or pints).

It doesn't matter whether you use barrels, barrows or buckets, it's the depth of water collected that is measured.

Image: Buy Yourself A Yankee Dude'l Life

This was a genuine van saleyard in a genuine US city under a genuine United States of America flag and I knew that I was not in Queensland any more. Far more likely to spot a coyote than a dingo in downtown Diego.

Image: Holding Still For the Photographer (2x Great Grandmother Jane Gibson Burnham 1880's ish?)

I can't believe that I haven't written the tale of this woman here before.

I had always imagined Jane to be a lone figure with scant information in family folklore, this mother of stoic but silent sons. Honestly, I knew nothing of this woman until by chance I discovered descendants of her sisters.

An orphaned spinster of 26 who brought the balance of her teenage siblings to Australia from the terrible times for all, including the Anglo Irish in the North of Ireland in the mid 19th century. She could read and write and had special skills as a laundress.

The family whose history had been lost in migration to the emerald isle a century or two before reinvented themselves anew down under.

Doesn't she look formidable?

Image: Roo Butt on High Beam

It's currently raining here. They are predicting possible bucket loads across the weekend. Definitely enough to deter any thoughts of mowing. Luckily there are a few of these about to keep the front looking neat.

Such weather will also bring out the instant idiots, no doubt. Those lights may have belonged to one of such a tribe, checking the water levels and gauging the lie of the land.

Instant idiots because you only need to "just add water" and its like magic.

Put a vehicle between a mud and this particular chemical reaction and watch with your heart in your mouth as thought and reason sit on the sidelines and dispair.

Red Moon at Night

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Tue, 03 Mar 2026 11:43:00 +0000

There was a Red Moon tonight over Paradise.

Of course I didn't take a picture.

A. I have always had dodgy eyesight, so it was enough to attempt to see something, let alone capture it in a meaningful way to make it recognisable in the future. My clay is words. My sense is ears.

B. I have been surrounded by visual people who delight in the art of photography. There is no need for me to swell their ranks.

You will just have to imagine the tiny porch on the top of the stairs, wind howling, Paris beside you and a starry sky to the South Eastish direction.

It is hard to tell if the misty blur across the bottom third of the moon were cloud, eclipse or the natural sheen of distance.

The sky behind is reflecting the lights around - tiny bulbs spray the wall of a neighbour and the street lights near the intersection.

Night birds know there is something up and are voicing the rejoicing of the dark red hue anticipated.

Image - not a picture of the scene described above, rather a very uncurated look for the sunroom - its natural state for the majority of the nearly two decades we have lived here

Edit - oh, and Eddie. RIP beautiful boy

Oh, and if you zoom in to the second window, there are two beautiful creatures and their humans

The Sun Room

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Mon, 02 Mar 2026 11:20:00 +0000

Image: Sunset in Paradise

As GZ often laments, Blogger has a habit of reversing your pictures (probably inherited from Word - an obscure admin geek joke - never mind) - I'll just have to work with what I've got.

Image: Rain Scene in Paradise

For nearly 20 years I have paced this Sun Room, posing theories, created poetry and watched the world.

Image: Kangaroos Grazing in Paradise

I have seen through it in love, in baby haze, in disasters, in the pandemic.

Image: Just One of Those Days in Paradise

In an earlier lifetime, it was the windswept open deck of what my father called The Retreat.

Image: Void Kitten in Paradise

We have watched little ones grow out to almost full-size

Image: Red Sky in Paradise

There have been times that I have been lost for words,

Image: Sunset Streaking Across the Sky in Paradise

sometimes too many words that couldn't quite grasp,

Image: Kangaroos Enjoying the Afternoon in Paradise

And sometimes just too lifed out to pay enough attention.

Image: One Bombproof (but unfortunately not ant-proof) Mailbox in Paradise

But this lofty view on life has a timeframe.

Image: Clouds Over Ocean in Paradise

All sorts of dates happen in the next 10 days and the next few weeks and months.

Image: Dusk in Paradise

Sunday selections

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Sun, 01 Mar 2026 10:26:00 +0000

River is my main connection to Sunday selections - as usual very ordinary pics with a waffle of words on offer here.

Picture of a piece of timber at my parents place with many extended family brands - Dad is third generation Australian and basically over 90% of his heritage is agriculture and livestock.

I did a search but apparently I have only done one real branding post (way back in May 2007) - and earlier in the week Ms Moon confounded me by having to Google what Marks and Brands were.

Isn't it weird, what one person grows up knowing innately and other never encounter?

We were in the saddle before we could ride bikes, learned how to drive before we hit high school and got paid in child labour by getting a calf branded for us each season.

I always chose the prettiest one for mine. We were only ever allowed to choose steers and only from commercial paddocks but that was preferred anyway as they were often the prettiest in my eyes - brindle or spotted with a twinkle of non-conformity in their eyes.

Image of a magnificent silver-leafed Ironbark (I think) on a Queensland country road

I have just come back from a trip out to visit Mum and Dad - 'Salina was with me. We always drive past this tree and made the decision to stop on our way home today. This isn't even her best angle but it was raining and the side of the road not conducive to more than a cursory click. That and the rather ordinary photographer on this side of the phone.

Image of proteas from a friend's garden delivered for Mum while I was there

Yes- even though I am not the level of nearly blind that I was using as an excuse prior to cataract surgery, my skills as a photographer didn't get any better!

Poetry society

noreply@blogger.com (jeanie) — Fri, 27 Feb 2026 14:20:00 +0000

It was wear a jersey to work today (to support your favourite team #) but I forgot. When reminded I explained that I would be wearing what I had on to poetry tonight which is sort of a sport, isn't it?

The first poet's night of the year was held this evening.

'Salina and I attended.

The regular hostess is taking a few months off because baby (π) so instead we had the awesome pairing of compere J---y and softly spoken Z.

First was the lady from the potter's guild with an invitation to offer artistic inspiration

Then G with an apologetic recitation of witty brilliance aired before. (§)

Y had found a very gentle and calming recitation she sourced from a play.

K spoke of death and the beauty surrounding it.

(¥)

I can't remember if next but a first time reader was in the next few and oh, a funny and punchy poem regarding NDIS.

(∆)

Oh that's right, the amazing and brilliant T was next with her Mistake poem, and it was a ripsnorter. We all went on her journey and recognised the landmarks.

R in his beaten up hat was in there too with a charming poem about a housemaid and a jackeroo, a fishing yarn and a bikini.

I had edited a version of Morass Mess and a very old poem of mine (about 1993) Lament for Lost Chance at the Last One Night Stand.

I must do that one for you one day.

I can't remember the order of the ones after - I think j did one about yoga - a very funny rhyme - and a beautiful one in honour of her Mum, passed on 31 years ago this month.

D did a marvellous Cat poem. There was also a God one not sure if in this set or next.

D (D's partner) had us up a mountain.

We went on a nostalgic trip to grandparents during summer as well.

I am not sure if that is all before the break.

After the break was a few new performers and a few of the first round also had another turn.

New girl with another brilliant poem about recovery, U had a couple of turns with soft lilting charms, J honoured Banjo Paterson's A Bush Christening (~) - and a T recited the words for Five Years by David Bowie (+)

I got to finish the night so I did a new one - Sounds a Bit Like a Country Song - and a relatively old one - Bottling Kisses (%)

Footnotes

¥ Yes, it got a little heavy

∆ One thing about a room full of poets is odds on the majority of us got our social skills from the back of a cereal packet if we were lucky and had the 3.95 postage and handling.

That and working in finance. Or with computers.

Anyhow. That's an aside. (Or rather, a footnote)

% I went to see where I need to link so you can see Bottling Kisses but you can't because apparently I have never shared it before.

$ We might have bought the citrus house

# as this weekend is opening in Vegas for the NRL - N at work is a bleeds maroon Broncos supporter

π I get it - although sometimes it takes nearly two decades

§ Nobody should ever apologise for working on your favourites. Seeing performers get into their work is part of the process of poetry for me

~ A favourite of Dad's to recite.

+ When I mentioned that to V he knew the song immediately and stayed while I looked it up for the link