The Best Laid Plans

I may have mentioned before that I like to plan. But sometimes things don’t go according to plan. Sometimes things can work out when they haven’t been planned. And sometimes, no matter how much I plan, it’s just not going to happen the way I want/think/hope.

The basil that I have nurtured since it popped its head up
over 3 weeks ago! It's sad.

Once again, the vegie patch is my best example. By the way, it is now after Melbourne Cup Day, and the tomatoes are still alive – this gives me hope that they might actually survive to produce those beautiful, tasty tomatoes I’ve been dreaming of. But that is beside the point. Where I have planned ahead, improving the soil, growing seedlings in the greenhouse, transplanting out into the vegie patch only after the 2^nd set of leaves have grown and in the season the packet tells me, diligently watered with seasol every 2 weeks, some plants just don’t work. Some go really well. Some just outright go and die. Some just don’t do anything much. But why? I’ve done all the right things, planned what needed to be done. Very frustrating.

The lettuce that is going well after a rocky start

On the other hand, I’ve had success where I was flying by the seat of my pants. Take the lettuce. They got planted before they were supposed to. One got dug up by a bird scratching around looking for nesting material, so I just shoved it back in the ground and hoped for the best. It’s thriving.




part of Ferntree Gully

I have another example. We had a day out last week (a Mid-Week Meander). It was my birthday, and I’d told Les what I wanted to do – the Ferntree Gully Walk, followed by lunch at the Bizzy Birds café in Rylstone. Les had it all planned, what time to leave home so we would get to the walk in time to have morning tea before we set off, allowing enough time to do the walk then make it to the lunch spot at a good time for lunch. All was going well until we got to Rylstone – café closed!!! What do we do??!! Picture me with a very disappointed face.

the steps out of Ferntree Gully - just
a little bit steep, but luckily not too many

Luckily there are other lunch options in Rylstone, and I’m not just talking about the pub (although I’m told it has a good bistro). We wandered up the street and found another nice little café (Café 47), in a huge building that is also a gallery space. We had a lovely lunch, and I had a quick look at the artworks on display. So, we discovered something new – that is what can happen when the plan doesn’t come together.

What got me thinking about plans was a sign in the window of the café, saying that planning to have a bush fire survival plan is NOT a plan. It is a very timely reminder, given the recent fires in the Blue Mountains, and the onset of summer when we have had way less than our usual amount of rain. But this is one of the plans we just haven’t done. We don’t even have a plan for having a plan! I wonder why 2 people like us (both Les and I are planners) haven’t done this most important plan? We live in a place that has open farmland behind us, and if a grass fire came through there, we would be in trouble. Maybe I’m not as plan-obsessed as I think I am.

I don’t think I will ever be really comfortable without things being planned, but I’m not so stuck in that planning rut that I can’t appreciate the fact that plans can change, things don’t always go to plan, and that’s not always a bad thing. And sometimes, just sometimes, not having a plan can work too. Now I’m going to check out the RFS site for a bush fire survival plan.

the surviving tomatoes in front of the
carrots going great guns, then the peas
right at the back - all good

 

When I Grow Up

When I was a kid, what did I want to be when I grew up? I don’t remember. In fact, my childhood remains mostly a mystery to me. For some reason, I don’t have very many memories from then – just bits and pieces that make no sense as to why I remember them and not other, more significant things. I don’t know if this is normal, or not. But it’s me.

Anyway, I’m sure I was asked at various times what I wanted to be when I grew up. I have no idea what I might have said in reply to that. Both my parents were teachers, and that may have been a logical assumption as a career, but when it came time to choose something at the end of high school, teaching didn’t even get a look in – I knew by then that I didn’t have the patience for it.

I love walking in the National Parks

I don’t remember having a burning ambition to be anything in particular. But I do remember thinking that a park ranger in the national parks would be a cool thing to be. Back then, that sort of work wasn’t considered a worthwhile career – we certainly hadn’t really started thinking of the environment and national parks in the way that we do today. So when I was discouraged from pursuing that, I gave in pretty easily.

or walking anywhere in the bush

 

In the end, I studied accountancy at university. From there, I worked as an accountant, then a systems support analyst, and eventually a business analyst. I enjoyed the work, for the most part, but I think I was always waiting for that thing that really inspired me – what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Now I’m retired. And I’m still wondering what I will be when I grow up! I don’t think of myself as being middle-aged (well, being over 50 means that I am certainly in that category). In some respects, I still think of myself as being in my early 30s. When I was in my 20s, my mother commented that she still thought of herself as being 27, even though she must have been close to 50, if not older, at that time. So I’m not on my own in my delusion.

one of Mum's paintings

And being retired, I now have the time to spend doing lots of different things – trying to find my passion, maybe? My mum tells me that she also tried many different things. I remember her sketching – sitting on the sidelines whilst Dad played cricket or something. I remember her knitting, both by hand and on the knitting machine. I remember her decorating cakes (she used to get really cranky when we watched her doing it, so used to only do it at night when we were all in bed). I remember her sewing curtains, and cushion covers, and our beloved snake chair. So my memory mustn’t be too bad after all!

Falling into the category of things I know she has done but don’t remember her doing, are patchwork (she still has the pieces ready to be sewn into the quilt), and painting (her art-works are hung on the walls at home).

In the recent past, Mum has been a keen, and very good, photographer. She has made beaded jewellery. She has made her own greeting cards, often using her photographs. Who knows what else she has tried her hand at!

Mum and me (guess which is which!)

So now I know what I’m going to be when I grow up. Whether I like it or not, I’m going to be my mother.

Mid Week Meandering

Sydney is a very busy place. Nothing is done slowly. Everyone is in a rush. Very few people take the time to stop and smell the roses.

I just copied this from the beginning of my post about MidWeek Escapades. The idea of that post was how I love doing things mid week to avoid the crowds.

Well, we have now moved to Bathurst, and we brought with us our habit of taking our little escapades mid week, so on Tuesday last week, we headed off for a day trip to Hill End. It was a lovely drive there. The weather was gloriously sunny and warm, unseasonably so, but I’m not complaining. Although getting into the country way of life, I have to say that the land looks very dry – we are definitely in need of some rain.


Hill End Information Centre

There isn’t much between Bathurst and Hill End, so we just took our time, meandering along the country roads, checking the sheep, cattle, and the amount of water in the dams. We also saw a few different sorts of parrots, some kookaburras, and ducks. No kangaroos, though, if you don’t count the road kill.

Information Centre car park - mid week

Anyway, once we got to Hill End, the first port of call was the Information Centre. It used to be the hospital – hard to imagine a town this small being big enough to have its own hospital. It’s in a lovely old building that has been restored, and is now also a museum.

Imagine my delight when we called into the Information Centre to see so few cars in the car park. The car park is enormous, so imagine what it must be like on the weekends!  I was so glad we had gone during the week.

First lookout of the day

We grabbed the brochure of the town that showed where the various sights were, and how to get to the lookouts. And off we went. At the first lookout, as you can see, we had no competition for space, and didn’t have to wait for ages to get the photo without people in it. Great!

It was the same deal everywhere we went – hardly anyone to get in our way. And we didn’t see anyone at all when we did the historic walk around the old gold diggings.

One problem, though. If we’d wanted to buy anything to eat or drink, or to browse in the shops, we would have been out of luck. Yep, those places were all closed. Maybe something to do with the fact that hardly anyone was in town?

We went back to Hill End on Sunday (oh…my…god – an escapade NOT mid week). We'd invited Mum to stay with us for Mother’s Day, and we took her there for an outing. Again, the drive was lovely, and the weather was gloriously sunny and warm(ish). But what a difference when we went to the Information Centre, and the lookouts. 

Information Centre car park - Sunday

Bird at the lookout - Sunday

As you can see, the crowds were amazing!

We then had lunch at the pub, and coffee at the café across the road. The Olde Wares shop was open to browse through.

Note to self – not everywhere is like Sydney. I think the people in smaller places DO take things a bit slower. And it pays to think carefully about heading off on a Mid Week Meander – consider if maybe it might be better to go when a few more people will be about!

Autumn Colours

Don’t you just love the colours of autumn? In Sydney, we don’t really get the classic colours of the leaves as they die, mainly because we don’t get that radical change in temperature, nor do we get proper frosts.

We don’t have to go very far to see those wonderful colours, though. Les and I did a day trip up to Bathurst during the week, and the trees along the way through the Blue Mountains had definitely started to change. And on the road through Lithgow, there are trees in the median strip that are well on the way to losing their leaves, and have some beautiful colour.

The best thing for me was when we got to our house in Bathurst. In our back yard, we have our own autumn colours!

In our new back yard, we have a peach tree (no peaches left, as the previous owners ate them all L) and an apple tree with heaps of apples on it. There are some other deciduous trees, and I’m fairly certain they are fruit trees, but I don’t remember what they are – that can be a pleasant surprise for next summer.

our apple tree

From a distance the apples looked great – a good size, and some good colour (they are Pink Lady, so don’t have a really bright red colour). But up close, they aren’t so good. They have suffered from lots of bugs. I presume this is because they haven’t been looked after properly. I hope I can do better next year, but I will have to do a bit of research to find out what they need.

When next we are there (in a couple of days), I’m going to pick all the apples. I won’t just throw them out, though. I want to cut each one and see if there is anything that can be salvaged. If there is, I’ll do something with them – maybe stewed fruit, or chopped up to put into muffins, or dried – there are so many options.

Yes, I know, I’ve got off the subject again. Autumn colours, wasn’t it?

The Australian bush is really amazing. It doesn’t really matter what time of year it is, there is something in flower. So when you think autumn colours, don’t just think the reds and oranges and browns of dying leaves. Think of yellow (wattle) and orange (banksia) and pink (pink wax flower).


banksia

wattle

 

pink wax flower, with ant

I read somewhere that there is always a wattle in flower somewhere in Australia. I presume there are so many different types of wattles and that they flower at all different times of year. Mostly we just think of them in flower in August, and that is certainly when those people who suffer from hay fever mostly know about it! I remember as a little kid happily bringing flowers to my Mum, and being devastated when she didn’t thank me like I thought she would.

But again, I’ve wandered off the subject.

I love the colours around us. I think I notice them more now I’m not rushing around so much. And I appreciate how the colours change with the seasons. Kind of like me, I suppose.