Eggs, eyes & a story. (Brian) (...not really, Bean).

So I was merrily finding things to stick my eyes on ( not my actual eyes because that would be gross - my little glass eyes) and when I did this it reminded me of something:


Yes, eggs. Not actual eggs (well yes actual eggs as well) but a 'short short story competition' I entered years ago. I think it was linked with Adelaide Uni but I can't remember now. Funny thing is they asked me to write a short bit about myself so I wrote a bit of rubbish - along the lines of 'I live in the outback with some chickens, flies and a wife but not necessarily in that order'.

Little did I realise that on publication (I got a runners up thing) that every other person had written sensible stuff about themselves. Ah well. Anyway I found the story and it is here for those that need sonething to help them sleep.

Al once said to me all those years ago ( when I was going through an attempted writing phase) that if I couldn't think what to type then just type anything that came into my head. Hence a series of short on the fly ad-libbed type of stuff. Make it up as I go along. Much like life really. Or maybe not. Depending.

Anyway here:

EGGS

“It’s a bit cold in here,” said Six.

“And dark,” added Five.

“Yeah, cold and dark,” agreed Six.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“Who said that?” asked Six.

“I did.”

“Who’s ‘I’?”

“My name is er…oh yes, One,” replied the voice.

“Where are you One?” asked Five.

“Just a little way along from you. Two, Three and Four are alongside me.”

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“G’day.”

“Hello,” replied Five.

“Hiya,” replied Six.
There was a long silence.
“It’s a bit quiet in here,” said Six, “what’s been happening?”

“Lost a few mates today I’m afraid,” replied One, “We don’t get many laughs in here you know.”

“Ah, I see.” There was a pause and then Six added, “How many?”

“Eight in total,” replied One.

“Strewth! That’s one big omelette!” cried Six.

A collective gasp spread across the egg rack.

“What? What did I say?” asked Six.

“We try not to mention…you know,” said One.

“What?” asked Six, “Omelettes?”

Another gasp spread over the rack.

“Well not just the ‘O’ word but the others as well,” explained One.

Five perked up, “Others? I didn’t know there were any others.”

“I’m afraid so,” said One, “There’s F, P, S and B.”

“Oh I see,” said Five, “I’m glad I don’t know about them.”

“Fried, poached, scrambled and boiled!” snapped Six ignoring the cries that arose next to him.

“That’s pretty mean of you,” said One over the sobbing.

“Oh come on! Let’s look at the facts – we’re all going the same way eventually, it’s just that you happen to be next,” replied Six.

“Thanks for reminding me,” said One.

“Well sooner or later I’ll be ‘One’ and then it’ll be my turn,” said Six.
The rack shook and suddenly there was blinding light. Warm air swirled around them. Then, with a violent thud, they were back in the dark again. They had all seen the same shocking image. A bowl of eggs had been placed on the second shelf of the fridge.
Two started shaking.

“Calm down Two, it’s all right,” reassured One.

“Hey!” laughed Four, “The others are back!”

“I don’t think…” started One.

“How’s it goin’!” yelled Four, “Hey! Guys, Guys! What’s happenin’?”

“I think they’re dead,” said One quickly.

“Dead?” replied Four, “Whaddya’ mean?”

“Oh come on!” snapped Six, “They’ve been hard boiled, it’s obvious!”

The others let out a gasp.

Six let out a sigh, “Look, stop gasping will you. They were the lucky ones.”

“Wh…wh…why?” stammered Two.

“Well I’d rather be hard boiled than soft boiled that’s for sure. Imagine having your insides scooped out.”

Two started shaking in its holder again.

“He has a point,” agreed One, “I think I’d rather be hard boiled. It’s okay Two, it won’t hurt.”

“Ha!” snorted Six, “Not unless you’re fried! That would be agony!”

“Come on! Shouted One, “You’re out of order!”
The door swung open. There was light and warmth. Then there was darkness.
“Hey!” shouted Six, “We’ve got a new egg with us. How’s it going Seven?”

“Good god man! Where the hell am I?”

“Inna fridge,” replied Five.

“A fridge! A fridge! Good lord! I can’t be doing in a fridge. Things to do you know!”

“Um, where exactly have you come from?” asked One tentatively.

“Come from? Come from? Well from a chicken of course! And the name’s Roger I’ll thank you very much.”

“Roger?” giggled Five.

“Yes. Roger Macclesby-Smith. Colonel Macclesby-Smith if you must know.”

“You’re completely mad aren’t you?” asked Six.

“I might be barking but you should show some respect young man.”

Six let out a laugh, “You crack me up!”

The others began to laugh as well.

“I say,” said Roger, “I hope that wasn’t an egg joke young lad.”

“Sorry? An egg yoke?” replied Six.

The others laughed harder.

“You, young man are but a child!” scoffed Roger.

“No,” laughed Four, “ he’s an egg!”

“A good egg at that,” laughed One in a mocking accent.
As the laughter in the fridge died Five began to sniff.

“What’s that smell?” he asked.

“Er, I think it’s coming from the bowl,” said One quietly.

“Is that how we’re gonna smell after being boiled?” asked Four.

“That,” said Roger loudly, “is the smell of death young lad. No one is going to make me smell like that what?”

“You don’t have a choice though,” replied Six.

“How dare you! snapped Roger, “We need to fight! Fight and win! Victory will be ours!”

“What on earth are you talking about?” asked Five.

“I’m not going to let some toasty solider scoop out my insides. No sir!”

“But how are you…”

“SHH!” interrupted Roger, “Here it comes lads, get ready!”

“Get ready for what? What are you talking about?” asked Six.
The door swung open. There was light and warmth. Roger rattled in his holder.

“Tally Ho chaps! Chocks away!” he yelled and fell from the rack.
The door swung shut. There was darkness and silence.
“Well,” said Six after a while, “that’s something you don’t see every day.”

“Yeah,” agreed Five.

There was a pause.

“He won though didn’t he?” said Six, “Went out fighting.”

“I don’t know if he was mad or brave,” said One.

“I think he was both,” replied Six letting out a sigh, “Good ol’ Roger.”
There was another long silence.

Six did a poor impersonation, “I say chaps! It’s bloody chilly in here what?”
The eggs laughed, stopped, and then laughed some more.

Gardening frenzy with flappy friends. (Bean)

So our Splendid Wren is getting quite tame since we've been in the garden sorting stuff out. Here he is:


Meanwhile the lavender is attracting the bees. Well, one bee actually:


So our little friend decided to mimic bee flight:


It doesn't impress the other locals:


Anyway, raised beds and reticulation plus a lot of digging tha Al has mainly been doing. More to be done tomorrow.

About to have another fire. No spuds this time though.

Here's a short vid of our blue friend checking out the work:

https://youtu.be/5Pw-tSPycCQ

Spuds - After their fire adventure. (Not for the squeamish) (Bean).

Yes, they survived. Look:

No, I'm not going to say what happened next.

Spuds! Ready and willing?

I don't know why I do this really.


I'm just going to have an horrific evening of guilt now.
Although throw some grated cheese into the situation and I'll probably be ok.

New boots, manure and lots of bolts.

Yes! Oscar has had his tired shoes replaced (see what I did there?). Masses of tread now.


Plus he's had his service and a wash and is now back with his mate Troopie. 

There has been plenty of 'garden activity' by us humans. Unusual for this time of year since we usually do it in the 40 degree days. (Mad Englishman etc). Part of our plan is (are?) raised beds. We have got two and after putting in 3,521 little bolts (I counted them ... but I may have got the exact number slightly out) here they are. They look rather like paddling pools at the moment. We went metal rather than wood or plastic for reasons of sun and termites.  (Haha, autocorrect changed 'metal' to 'mental'. Quite accurate actually.)

So, lots of clearing, raking and now some planting at some stage. (The little 'fencing' is to stop the rabbits from getting in. We would need a bigger fence to stop bears but I don't think they eat salad). I'm pretty sure this can't be counted as a waste of time. The gardening that is, not the blog.

Which reminds me.  I recently found an almost complete image of a 'Magazine Cover'  I made a long long time ago. (There was small print in the grey areas). I did several. I may even do more. Who knows? Who cares?


Oh, I also made some uber floor cleaner. Oh yes, it all happens here.  Ajax and hydrochloric acid! It's brilliant but does require gloves, and care when using. Oh and goggles. I have been known to spray my face with acid and end up in A&E. It was an interesting, painful and eventually, luckily, a real eye opener. Two eyes eyes actually.

So. Advice for this time: Don't spray acid into your eyes. Not ever. (Who would have thunk?)

Right off to light a fire. Not a waste of time because we have some potatoes that are going to experience a baking. Look:

Creativity. Why? (Bean)

I suppose it's all part of that human being thing but I question the line between creativity and making a mess while wasting time.

Is dreaming being creative? A kind of automatic creativity. I'm good at that.

Building a house - now that's probably creative and very useful. It would take time but that's acceptable. Building a model out of a pile of sticks that then looks like a pile of sticks ... well that is just a waste of time. Unless you had fun doing it of course. Is that what it's about, good mental health? I built a model of a pile of sticks and then decided to call it 'A fire'. That way it can't be a waste of time. (Unless you don't need one of course).

These questions ran through my mind ( a scary place at the best of times) when setting up Lego for a photo shoot. It's something I do. They get sold as cards etc. Speaking of cards, and as you know I'm not one to digress, I got a snap of Jaws in his/her new home. The others have left him/her alone now. 

He/she is the orange one.

Also here are the Babblers that turned up the other day. They travel in groups and sound like weird squeaky toys.


Anyway, back to the creative thing. As Al completes painting after painting I am sometimes stunned at the ever increasing quality and ideas. I once tried to Oil paint. The lump of oil I attempted to put on the canvas just fell off onto the floor. Not a good start but I suppose that sign meant it was an appropriate finish.

I have fiddled with computer stuff. Photoshop and 3D stuff. It's fun. So I don't think it's a waste of time. But then it could be. I mean I can spend ages making silly faces at my self in the mirror. That's also fun and it's definitely a waste of time. Good for mental health though - so maybe it isn't. Er, oh yes computer stuff - this is what I mean.

The 3D scene:


And then mash it up with Photoshop. Maybe write what I was thinking when doing the scene:


Another example:


Anyhoo. Here's the Lego one:


I've just thought, maybe thinking about wasting time is actually wasting time.

How ironic.

Not really a post but a memory. (Bean)

So, first of all 'Not really a post but a memory' doesn't make a lot of sense since it is still actually a post. I've spent a lot of my life being confused. Here I am just sharing it.

Now, I'm not really one to digress but:

I saw a whole lot of Babbler birds this morning (honestly, they are called Babblers - I checked). However the pictures aren't here because they are still on the camera. I will need to sort them out.

This made me think of The Muppet show.  (For those too young ... well, it was one hell of a ride ... it was a TV show. A good one too. It aired between 1976 and 1981 - ish. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Muppet_Show)

Anyhoo. During that time my wonderful older (and apparently knowledgeable) sister said one of the characters (puppet) reminded her of me. So much so that she even made me a cushion of said character.

I happened upon this clip ('happened upon'? does anyone use that these days?) of this truly ...interesting/unique/disturbed character. Hence the memory.

May I present to you, Beaker:

And here he is being creative. (Thanks for the memory and the cushion Sis):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpcUxwpOQ_A



Slightly embarrassing to think I'm not quite as skilled as him in real life. (Although I do look as good him though... just).

Relocation of Jaws and birdies. (As in just Jaws not the birdies).(Bean)

And so after several days we have almost tidied away the back verandah. Things are now packed neatly (ish) in the shed. The remaining items will probably  er ... also go into the shed. At some stage. Again it's to try and find storage place where mice don't mess things up. Having said that some of these things will probably be used again soonish so it's also handy to remember where we've put them.


Yesterday I moved Jaws, the big fish from his life-long half-wine barrel. I have no idea how fish work in the wild (or anywhere else for that matter) so I did wonder if he/she would eat some of the smaller fish in the big pond. This I figured wouldn't be too much of a problem as they will need culling soon (or given away to passing children or something. Although thinking about it that might be frowned upon).

So from here,


To here,


It seems that Jaws has been the one that was chased around by the others and now he has hidden. I tried to get a photo of him/her but no luck yet. Anyway I'm sure you all know what a fish looks like. Golden and fish shaped.

I have also been bird spotting/chasing/annoying. Here is another Eagly thing:


Here are some Pinked Billed Sandscratchers having a conversation about fruit:


And here a a Turquoise Hopper Wren.:

Al has told me that I'm getting the bird names wrong. However I had to remind her that I'm the one with the bird books. One day I will read them and show her. Having said that of course I have been known to make the odd the mistake in my orthanologist identifications. It's rare though.

I'm really hoping to spot the Great Warbling Heron out here soon. Al says I won't stand a chance. Huh.

Speaking of which our recent change of mousetraps have been quite succcesful. From these:


To these:

Now I hope they will stay out of the piano (the mice not the traps) and the stress on the piano tuner ( who visits twice a year to Alice) won't be quite as traumatic.

Haha, my auto correct changed 'piano' to 'pisano'.

I'm easily amused.

Oscar has a sulk. Al paints. (Bean)

So, after a week of not doing it I finally booked Oscar in for his service. Also I ordered his new boots. They cost a fortune. Still, he served us well so it's the least we can do. Here's his worn feet:


The service is in two weeks time (takes a while for things like tyres to get to The Alice). He sulked on the way home and stopped playing music. His media/sat Nav screen became unresponsive. Not one to put up with this kind of behaviour I pulled up and stopped. Turned off the ignition and then, to finally turn off all the electrics, took out the key and opened the door.

Electrics off.

Weirdly the screen stayed on. 'Don't make me go in there and disconnect your battery young man!'

I realised I had said that out aloud. Thank goodness no one was there, although sensible people don't listen to me anyway. No, I'm not self deprecating ... I'm no good at that.

On restarting him he decided to change his screen to 'functional ... but you know who's really in charge' mode.

It was a hard day.

 Ok,  not really, that was a lie. But still I had to face a new dilemma in my life.

Fish food.

I mean really what is the difference between these? Apart from the obvious.


Well, this is what I could see on the back to try and find out:


Yes. I had forgotten to take my reading glasses. So I got both of them. I hope to get feedback from the fish to which they prefer.

Sadly, I know in reality this will not happen.

But imagine if it did!

Al was being creative and came up with this. ( not the poor photo but the 'Oil on canvas' dontja know)


Gosh, I think she's clever.

I think it is going to be re-stretcherered.

Yes, that's a word. 'We' use it in the art world.

Anyhow, apart from that I managed to chase and frighten a Speckled Hombre Finch. Look:

Well,  not frighten then. Maybe more of a 'pester' judging by that telltale look he/she (?) is giving me.

Speaking of which:

I have just realised that watching the whole of Magnum PI might take a while. It's description sounds brilliant (for a 50 year old that remembers the 80's in a 'hate it, love it' kind of way).



'Own the legacy' - haha. Excellent.

129 hours eh? Enough time for me to grow an awesome moustache.

Now that would be a legacy.

Grass, Survival and Eggs. (Bean).

So I cut some grass today. Husky kicked up masses of dust and grit which then, with exception to a few grains, landed on my head and inside my clothing. Luckily I have a slight skin reaction to buffel grass so that made it extra exciting.

I have a list of things that need to be done around the place while I'm on long service leave. Today I made the list. Sort of. So at least that is done.

I also found an old book that I was looking through ( I suppose that's called 'reading'). Survival stories. It's a bit basic but I figured after our cold nights it would be interesting ...


... to realise just how easy we had it, have it and hopefully continue to keep having it.  As Bear says "There's a price to pay for high adventure". I'll take his advice and from now on all my ventures are going to be kept around ankle height.

We had a fire in our wood burner last night (lounge). I might have overdone it a bit as we ended up sitting in t-shirts and shorts watching Game of Thrones. Tonight they reckon it's only dropping to 8 degrees so no fire tonight.

Al has sold a painting of a bird. Good on 'er. It's of a Ruffle Feathered Hook-Billed Parrot,


although some have said it could be a Port Lincoln or something. I think they are confused with a town poor things. Anyway Oil on Canvas dontja know.

We have a new printer on order. Al's often only prints bits of a picture. Shouting then ensues ( sorry 'gentle encouragement') and then it seems to still on print part of the picture.

My printer worked for the last six years.

Until one day it just didn't. Wouldn't even turn on. I appreciate it being so precise in its failure.

Speaking of printers that reminds me ... eggs.

My sister let me know that I also used to call hard boiled eggs 'Bangy eggs'. ( I can't remember this but I'm assuming it's because of using a spoon to attack it with). It could be embarrassing so instead I've decided to embrace the term. Actually we have some eggs in the fridge so I will go off and make some bangy eggs right now.

That seems like an shin high venture - should be safe.

Unpacking and scattering. (Bean)

Hmm. So we've unpacked Oscar two days ago and this is still the scene a few hours ago.


Things are 'about' to be put away. We need to figure out how to protect some things from mice though. They seem to enjoy jumping up and down on our belongings and then for no reason at all peeing all over them.

I've found an answer to keep BT safe. An old esky has come in handy. 

No mices gonna get in there!

Al has set Piggy up on the deck, along with a metal plate for any embers that could fall out. (I'm assuming the chopped wood will be moved when it's lit).


We are planning on trying a bit of cooking on him sometime soon. I suggested flat eggs. Apparently the correct term is 'fried eggs'  .

The shells from 80 mile beach have been unpacked along with the sand that happily fell on the floor. I've been trying to take some interesting photos but it's been a while since I've done any macro stuff. I'll attempt some more later.


The nights are still amazingly quiet here and although it's quite cold in the mornings it is at least dry. Yay!

I was going to attack some of the drying buffel grass with Husky ( ride-on- mower) yesterday but discovered he had two flat tyres. I got the air compressor out and the found one of the electric sockets in the shed didn't work. Then I had to find an extension cord. That took a while. I then needed the tyre air gun thingy that was in Troopie. It's kept in a lock box on the left hand side of the vehicle. I used my bunch of keys and thought to myself ' better replace the air gun and get my keys out of the lockbox as soon as I'm done'.  I didn't of course.

Which meant that when Al was in town today she couldn't work out why a tour bus driver was waving at her. Yes, my keys were happily still in the lock. Whoops.

Here's a re-inactment. I play the tour bus driver ( very well, I might add) although I am out of shot. The keys play themselves.


( Yes, I have taken them out).

Speaking of keys I also made a bit of a mistake at Kununurra. We were staying in that huge room place and in the morning I couldn't find Oscars keys. Turns out they were lying right next to him in the parking bay. Rather embarrassing since all the rooms had special leaflets left from the local constabulary warning about theft and to keep vehicles locked.

Well, Oscar was locked - my very weak argument to Al.

I've decided I should give up keys completely. Once I know how that can be done I will let you know.

Oh, after finally pumping up Husky's tyres I decided that the grass would have to wait. (Actually I got sidetracked ... lunchtime and all that).

Here's Husky waiting to cut grass.



Here's buffel grass waiting to be cut.



I hope the meeting will go as intended.

Day One. (Bean)

So, first day at home. Last night was so quiet. I actually woke up and realised I was asleep. Very weird but at the same time comforting.

I awoke to various muscle pains that I like to call 'driving stress' although now having mentioned it, it doesn't sound as good as it did at 5am.

I noticed our last blog was rather grammatically messed up. Boy were we tired.

Still, when we did arrive back at the gate we had wildlife happening right there. (If I said that as a teenager it would quite exciting. I'm not so it's not - but here you go anyway).

A hawk that very rudely faced the wrong way was taking away the young ... for it's young (I hope). The meal was rather large - but then that's quite fitting for Alice Springs.

Anyway - speaking of food I went into town this am to get some. I sang to The Jam on the way in and then realised I didn't know the words so instead I did that mumbling made up stuff that would be embarrassing to anyone that heard. Since the only person that could hear it was me, and I'm quite critical of myself, I stopped. (The singing, not the music or the car).

I then proceeded to have a rather stressful time arguing with the supermarket checkout machine since it insisted on weighing my bag (esky version) and then get confused. I had to call the girl over to help FIVE times. Finally she just stayed there until I had finished. She said it was a bad system. I agreed and told her I wouldn't be back, Unless they had their smoked salmon deal on or I needed any of their meat since it is always better than Woolies.

I digress.

I then went to visit a friend in hospital. I played with the electronic bed which was fun.  I didn't take any flowers because I guessed they probably would have been given some - and I was right. Instead I gave unhealthy food, words of encouragement, and a puzzle book. I'm sure that will help.

Home is lovely - although after four weeks of having a limited choice of what to wear the walk in wardrobe is a scary place. Too many choices. I'm sure I don't need a lot of the stuff I have.

I'm going to look into how to sell things on Gum Tree or Ebay. Surely it cant be that hard. (I will have lots of small print though.)



Finally here is a picture of a BBB.

(For my sister that stands for 'Boring Brown Bird')

Actually I think It's a Black Eyed Chatterer.

How remote? Wow. (Bean)

Phone interim post here. Well, we are back and what a final drive that was. Nine hours or so and here we are. Wonderful.

I'd forgotten how remote Alice was. Today I was reminded. It's bloody remote. More so than NW WA. The gaps between places were a lot longer. We passed a Roadhouse that didn't sell fuel. It was 170km away from anywhere. Why does it exist? Who knows? ( If you do know then please ... it was a rhetorical question).

Al took photos. I drove. Which brings me to Oscar, bless his little odd character weird habit vehicle personality. (I once had someone salute him. Honestly true story. They do that in the US. Crazy bastards).

Considering he needed new tyres before we left he managed the whole way without blowouts ( rare out here). He will get new boots soon. But, after we unpacked him I parked him in our car-Port. A light on his dash board pinged. It requested a new oil change. Timing? Bless his thinning rubber. Service to be booked next weeek.

So, Al hated Tennant Creek.  I feel she is not alone. No fresh food for a snack.

We noticed a lot less traffic out this way. Probably due to remoteness ( and Tennant Creek).

To cut long and tiring story short we are home and have a fire going.


Actuallybwevwerevtalkingvabout the many things that have happened but not been mentioned. ( well one that I can currently remember.. no make that two - ooh wait threecactually.. anyway where was I?). I endeavour to tell the story of the Road Workers, Daley Waters, Suggestive Comments, and a lot of giggling. The road trip may have stopped but the journey still continues. ( Again, I'm pretty sure someone famous/clever/desperate said that. )

For now though I will enjoy the peace, the fire, the stars, no caravans and some mozzie bites that I'm pretending don't have.

Until the morrow then.