
Hillet to home, with the swamp on the right.
Getting my mind back after an anesthetic, even one of only 25 minutes duration was always going to be an interesting experience. One of my tests for regaining normal brain power is doing a crossword puzzle, and I have to confess that seven days after the fact, I’m still floundering in that respect. I successfully solved the Decoder Puzzle but am having a lot of trouble thinking up the required words for the Crossword Puzzle.
The eight letter US state had to be Arkansas in the end. Delaware just didn’t give me the right letters.
I remember my mother, Hendrika, complaining about a fuzzy brain after an operation in her eighties. It took her fully three weeks to remember, after knitting four or five false starts, how to knit socks. When she did finally remember the pattern, she never knitted anything else apart from 10 cm squares in the last three years of her life.

A few of Hendrika’s grandkids wearing her socks. She knitted about a thousand pairs in her later eighties, donating them to charitable groups after the family were supplied.
It has been suggested that as eldest daughter it would be fitting that I undertook that same project, but I’m afraid I might’ve built up a bit of steam and blown that suggestion out of the water. Seriously? I love knitting, but don’t have my mother’s fortitude to be knitting the same pattern over and over, and for years on end producing two or three pairs a week.
In fact, I like to invent patterns as I go. I started on a vest with the new yarn. Knitted a few experimental squares but decided in the end to go with diamonds. More on that project in a post.

A mob of ibis, native to Australia and now more commonly known as ‘bin chickens’ hard at work on the little grassed area between the new access road and the still existing but now little used path. Little used because all it leads to is the paddock.
The little grass where the ibis are feeding is the lowest place at the base of a long slope. Water flows here both through the soil and over the grass, and from the diligent work of the birds, I gather that plenty of worms also live here.
I heard—haven’t fact-checked it yet—that ibis beaks are going through a speedy evolution turning from turned under tips to scoop food from mud, to straight tips that can pick up food from hard surfaces.

Photo by Christopher Walker from Krakow, Poland – A group of llamas graze by the side of the road in Bolivia, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3784916
Although this isn’t the brand of golden syrup I know from my teen years in Australia, the tin is the same design. The rim is to stop drips similar to a paint can. Used as a receptacle to drink from, it needs a hole in the rim, or you’ll be spilling it both sides of your mouth.

This photo is not a double exposure, but a reflection looking into a kitchen window curtained with insect screening with the reflections of trees and shrubs behind the photographer. However I did it. An effective, if mysterious, image symbolizing Claire’s and Nalbo’s shed in their tea-tree forest. But lol, the vegetation nothing like tea-tree foliage.


This is me hiding from the old woman, it’s my playtime but a few minutes ago she made like she was a bird! Can you believe it, she puckered her lips and whistled!
At first I couldn’t believe she was making those noises. I’m shocked that she can. I hid so she couldn’t see me or more to the point that she can’t see me!
She’s been saying for a while that she’ll get me more catnip. The shop where she got the previous supply closed down. It’s no excuse. Times like these, with her whistling, I want to hide my head in the catip pillowcase.
We’ve got it growing too, but so disappointing only three of the seeds made plants. here I’m trying to take in the goodness of the single leaf she allowed me.

I ask you, one leaf! She said because all told there are only eight leaves. It’s not a viable plantation.
