I had an eyeball to eyeball encounter with a platypus last night – went down to the river on my run on the other side to look at the receding flood waters and the new waterfall gushing into the river, and as I approached the shore I saw a weed wobbling in the water and thought ‘what’s that’. Got to the very edge and looked down and one second later Mr Platypus surfaced right at my feet, staring up at me (he must have been nibbling on the weed stem. We looked at each other in complete astonishment for a long few second and then he duck dived – but he kept feeding right along the shoreline so I got up close and personal – wonderful! They are not very big and a lot of it is tail and they seem to have very white eyes with a black pupil.
Author Archives: sophie
Duck & Tooth Fairy MIA
We have a duck MIA – presumed dead. I heard a terrific squawking one afternoon from the region of the awning but just thought one of the chooks was laying an egg with much ado. The next day I found a python snoozing in my feed shed and presumed he was the culprit (even though he didn’t have the distended belly you would expect if he was mid-duck digestion) so Ged grabbed him and put him in a sack (after peeling him off his wrist coil by ever tightening coil) and I drove him over to Angle Creek where I let him go, on the way to my daily constitutional.
Duck Days
We have three new little ducklings. Ged is flat out like a lizard drinking at the moment, installing solar grid connect systems in nearby Laurieton and he saw a sign for ducklings at a local feed store. After finding our last lot so difficult to get along with at first (crazy canards!) they have turned into lovely members of the family and it is a delight to look out of the windows and see them sitting on a log or gliding gracefully on the river, or flying up to the house for corn and company. They like to have breakfast (before Ged leaves), lunch (when Ben and I go walkabout) and supper at 6pm on the dot. We can pretty much set our watches by them – but at this rate they will become too fat to waddle so I am cutting them back to one meal a day (the buddha principle). Anyway, we only wanted two more (we try to work to the Noah ideal) but there were three left so Ged had to bring them all home. They are so cute. Ged has made a pen for them in the shade under the myrtles and a lovely bed in a big wicker basket full of straw and they are very happy with their new home. They have taken to Avalon like ducks to water, and wander round the garden, going twenty paces or so and then sitting down for a rest! The big ducks are charmed by them too and have adopted them as their own young. They lead them around the garden and then fly from the bank down to the river, leaving the littlies quite bewildered – what happened there?
Baby Boot Camp
Start as we mean to go on! We are all back at work this week and since that means Ged leaves at the crack of dawn and is gone til 5 or 6pm, I am resolved that Benjamin and I have to get into a routine so we can survive the days. So we normally have a 5ish am feed and then go back to sleep. Ged gets up at 6 and leaves us in bed snoring. We both have a squirm when he leaves but I shush Ben back to sleep and hope for a good snooze then we get up at about 8am. Singing, playing, bath and boobie and then Benjamin goes to bed in his bed, in his room for (hopefully) two hours so I can sit at the computer and get some work done. Then he wakes up and we have some more singing and hugging and then I have a shower while he watches from his bouncer (lucky boy!) and then tummy time, lunch time and back to bed for the boy (sometimes happily, sometimes not!) and I go back to the computer and the phone for an hour and then normally he is up again so we let him have a good kick on the sofa while I race around trying to clean the house and then we are both clock watching until Ged gets home and I get to catch up on the backlog of work or chores and go for a walk . . . me and phee time
Wild Dogs and Wedge Tailed Eagles
Happy New Year!
Here on the farm without radio, television or newspapers the days blur into one another like the endless summer days of childhood, and we didn’t even realise that it was New Year’s Eve til mid-afternoon. Not that it made much difference, we had decided not to go to the annual bash at Steve and Cherie’s with Benjamin in tow – too loud, too much booze, too tired, too happy just pottering on the farm . . . We had a bottle of Bolly in the fridge but didn’t open it – couldn’t be bothered, didn’t feel like drinking, I’m sure another opportunity for celebration will present itself . . . .
Australia very much grinds to a halt at this time of year – everyone is on holiday and businesses are closed for weeks so it really is time to slow down, relax and enjoy hearth, home and family. It is so quiet here, although for some reason (maybe all the slashing both we and the neighbour are doing) we have recently become home to hordes of sulphur crested cockatoos, who are gorgeous in their flock but make a helluva racket with their cawing.
We had a dead wallaby on the other side so the wedgetailed eagle was in residence for about four days before Ged built a funeral pyre and cremated the wallaby’s remains before it got too potent . . . because we have had such a good extended spring and there is so much feed, there are an incredible number of wallabies (did you know that wallabies breed more in a good season?) and so there are also more wild or feral dogs. Phee and I had a terrible scare on a run/walk the other day – as usual he was ahead of me and out of sight, and suddenly I heard him yelping and screamed his name and started running. As I ran, first a wild small brown dog appeared to the right of a big clump of timber debris, then on the left appeared a dingo X. The face, ears and colouring of a dingo, just smaller, and stockier than a purebred. My heart stood still as I screamed Phoenix’s name again and again. Thankfully he appeared, tail between his legs but unhurt as far as I can see. Terrifying. And he is so lucky. Most wild dogs would have torn him apart , I don’t know how he survived (he must have nine lives!). Needless to say he has been sticking close to his Mummy on our forays over on ‘the other side’ (we have to think of a name for each side of the property, clearly! – suggestions on a post card, please). I don’t want to get the wild dog shooters onto Avalon if we can help it (normally the neighbours do so that keeps the population under control) but they seem to have become more adventurous and visible this year with the proliferation of wallabies on the pasture.
We often see the ‘wedgies’ free wheeling overhead – they are stunning birds. And the one who ate the wallaby is often to be found in an old dead gum on ‘the other side’ at dusk when Phee and I go for our walk. I always have him ‘heel’ when wedgie is around as I imagine the eagle looking at Phee and thinking ‘dinner’! We also have a sea eagle who patrols both sides of the property – about the same size, just completely different colouring. And I have recently discovered that not only do we have yellow tailed black cockatoos on the farm, but also red-tailed – gorgeous!
Big shiny blue tractor!
We have a new toy! A big, blue, shiny, new tractor!
Your Baby, Your Guru
Macca has lent us some amazing books over the course of the pregnancy and first few weeks of Motherhood. I have been immersing myself in ‘Buddhism for mothers’ while on the loo and in the sitz bath at night and there is a wonderful article in there, written by an American first time mother and long-time Buddhist as she is challenged and tested to every limit by her newborn babe and her spiritual practice goes out of the window (bye bye spiritual discipline, routine and regimen!). She writes that she finally realised that the baby was the teacher, the buddha, the master and this was the new path for her learnings, meditation and practice. That singing the same soothing song over, and over (and over!) again is as much meditation as sitting in silence for hours, that setting self aside in order to fully focus on, and cater to, another soul, is the greatest spiritual self discipline. It is presumably no coincidence then that Gandhi shaved his head and wore nappies!!
After Birth
Macca came to see us to check me over for the last time and discharge me from her care and to cast an expert eye over our precious boy and we got some funny pictures of our little gremlin (no, those aren’t really his ears!)
Even God rested on the 7th day . . .
Eureka!
Breast is Best
Well they may have been small (but perfectly formed) but they are now Big Bertha-ish and obviously filled with the right formula, because the little man has put on 625 grams (well over half a kilo!) and grown – wait for it – FIVE CENTIMETRES since he was born. Breast is definitely best for Benjamin!