9:43 p.m. - 2003-02-23
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My Mom's cousin and I were e-mailing back and forth about a joke about Tasmanians (Tassies)he sent me. I needed definitions for some of the Aussie slang. He went on to talk about the island:
"However, after saying all of that, if they could pull the plug on the island and bring it up here I would live on it. It is absolutely beautiful. I was down there many years ago and could not get over how green everything was and the horses and cattle had such shiny coats. Everything was so fresh- no pollution, no trafffic congestion, gentle pace of life. The only problem was the weather. We are used to the rain and wind but not the temps that they get. Their idea of a hot summers day is about 12-15C. During their winter they get the cold winds that come off the Great Southern Ocean." He then went on to describe the Sydney to Hobart yacht races.
I'd love to visit Australia and New Zealand some day. In the interim it's nice to have someone there, who is willing to provide written snapshots of both the physical settings as well as the lifestyle. One of his stories about an encounter with a bush pilot was just hysterical. Reminded me of the stories I've heard of the wild rides experienced by people travelling to some of the Arctic settlements here in Canada. Special breed of flier - the bush pilots - that's for certain.
On another international note; it is becoming increasingly difficult to communicate with Canadians still in the Middle East. Haven't heard from one of my friends for a couple of months now and one of my brothers-in-law noted the same about a friend of his who is a doctor working to set up some basic services in one of the kingdoms. No one's heard from him or his family since Christmas. Right now I'm staying calm because my other friend e-mailed from another country they were vacationing in, saying things were tense but still tolerable. It's tough when they are so far away and so vulnerable.
I've decided Miss Kitty must be a Taurus astrologically. She wants structure and predictability. If I get up and leave the house every day of the week at a certain time then she expects me to keep that schedule on the weekends. The last couple of mornings she has sashayed into my bedroom and done everything in her power to roll me out of bed before 6 am - not. That includes dive bombing from the curtains, sneak attacks from the top of my bed's headboard, and pouncing on my feet and back when I hide under the covers. My Taurus son - number four - is the same. We have a schedule, we keep it or else consequences will be applied. I have a "Snow White" mirror (looks just like the one in the film) on the floor in my bedroom, the dresser currently over at my oldest son's home providing extra storage for the grandbabies' clothes. Miss Kitty has always enjoyed playing with the cat she saw there. Today, when I appeared behind her and started to scratch her ears I think she finally realized she was seeing herself. Reaction? Parading back and forth in front of it admiring herself, cooing and chirping, more like a bird than a cat. Wanting me to hold her up so she could get a better view of some of her finer features. Deeps purrs of satisfaction. Later, she insisted my youngest join her at the mirror for some more admiration time. Now, compare that with my Taurus son who is the epitome of masculinity. If there was a sport or game he was always first and foremost - and winning was the goal. Instinctively handy with tools, never walking when he could run. But always the clothes have had to be there too. Two or three changes a day when he was younger because, of course, the young ladies had to have the best display of his finer features. Aren't peacocks one of the birds designated to the Taureans? I think so.
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