A photographic essay exploring the crushing of creativity under the weight of drop sheets and paint trays. (And dead cars). Or in other words, why I neglected this website and wrote NOTHING last year. But I’ve finished the house (yay!) and am determined to let creativity flourish – or at least come up for air – in 2024.
Farewell, Mr Tibbs. We made the tough decision to say goodbye to the puss last week. He was nineteen and a half years old and had several health issues. While it was sad to say goodbye, I’m glad I was able to give that old cat a comfortable and caring home.
Four and a half years ago, I realised the scruffy old cat I kept glimpsing in my yard was actually living under my house, starving and frightened. He would hiss at me and run away if I got too close, but I gradually won him over with food – fresh chicken fillet his favourite. The vet was able to trace his previous owners through the microchip, but they didn’t want him anymore, so I said I’d keep him. I didn’t think a scruffy, ancient, half-wild cat had many other options.
Fast forward a few years, and Mr Tibbs got a sea change when I left the city and moved to Mallacoota. He loved his new life here, although he was a bit cranky during our bushfire evacuation, when we spent a day and night in the car. I spent that New Year’s Eve begging him to shut up, basically.
His favourite things were eating and sleeping, and he enjoyed plenty of both in his twilight years.
He will be missed, especially by Tilly. She took a long time to learn that he wasn’t a dog and didn’t want to play with the toys she would shove in his face. She got bitten on the nose a few times, but she loved him anyway. Rest in peace, old cat. 🌈 ❤️
I got something of a surprise the other day to walk around the corner of my house and see a red-bellied black snake wriggle away across the concrete. I’d seen the occasional snake out on walks, but never in my own yard. Or heading towards my back door. Or slithering under the bar fridge right next to the back door! Hmmm, what to do now? Well … panic, of course.
I’d left the back door open but with the screen door shut. I had sudden visions of Mr Snake managing to squeeze through the gap at the bottom of it, as the local lizards always do. The thought of a snake in the house was terrifying! I ran back to the front door and let myself in, then dashed through to the back door and shut it tight, locking it for good measure – just in case the snake might stand up and grow hands, I suppose.
I tried ringing the local snake catchers, but neither answered. I would have to deal with this myself. (They were both out of town that day, I found out later.) I paced around the house trying to figure out what to do next. I was so relieved I’d left my dog, Tilly, in the house when I went out. If she had run ahead of me around the corner and tried to play with the snake … I started to panic more at the thought of what hadn’t happened. (Which doesn’t make a lot of sense, I know.)
Then I remembered the cat! Mr Tibbs was sound asleep in his day bed, the outdoor kennel, which was right near the bar fridge that now had a snake in residence. I had to save him! I went out the sliding door at the side, ran around to the back of the kennel and dragged it backwards across the concrete. I quickly scooped the cat out of the kennel, with him looking very disgruntled at having his snooze interrupted, then carried him back inside. I only realised in hindsight that I should have checked the kennel more thoroughly before I reached in, since the snake could have been cuddled up in the blankets too. When I put Mr Tibbs down in the house, he stalked away in annoyance and went to sulk under my bed. After I risked my life to save him! What an ingrate.
When I gathered up the courage to get a torch and look under the fridge – from a safe distance – and then check the rest of the outdoor area, it seemed the snake had departed, to who knows where. Probably under the house, I figured, before hopefully moving on to somewhere far, far away.
Seeing a snake so close to the house had really shaken me up. It was a slight over-reaction, but I’d felt under siege again, like with the bushfires, and – just like then – my way of coping was to spring into action. I had to do everything I could to keep myself and the animals safe. In this case, it meant reducing possible snake habitat by mowing, weeding, pruning and taking a trailer load to the tip. l sent a text message to my neighbours, who are also dog owners. They are not keen gardeners, but I had to smile when I heard their whipper-snipper start up approximately seven minutes after I sent the message. Nothing like the thought of lurking snakes to inspire a garden tidy-up! I started to relax a little, thinking that surely the noise and commotion caused by two households panicking and wielding noisy garden machinery would be an effective snake deterrent.
So I finished the day feeling exhausted, sweaty and dirty, but feeling the yard was a lot safer. I know now I have to be more snake-aware though, even while living in a non-bushy area, and check for slithery visitors before I let Tilly out.
I’ve since spoken to one the snake catchers, who told me there are snakes everywhere, constantly travelling around the place, but we just don’t usually see them. I’m not sure if that thought is reassuring or terrifying! At least now I know that a gentle sprinkle from the hose is an acceptable way to encourage a snake to move on to other pastures.
Honestly, this year has not been easy!
So I’ve had lots of time lately for quiet contemplation, as I watch my thumb turn various shades of green and purple and practise wriggling my fat little sausage fingers.
What started out as an early-morning dog walk on a frosty day ended up as a three-day stint in Bega Hospital having surgery on a broken wrist, which involved a plate and some screws to put it back together. Serves me right for wishing that I didn’t have to go to work that day. My son and his girlfriend were visiting and I would rather have spent the day with them. As it turns out, I did, but not how I’d expected to. Be careful what you wish for, hey? Luckily they were there to drive me up the coast to the hospital, and then look after Tilly and Mr Tibbs for a few days.
I now know that the wooden boardwalk across the lagoon should be avoided on very cold mornings. Little pools of water on the bowed boards can freeze up and become invisible and treacherous patches of ice. When I turned slightly to look at a boat going past in the channel, my feet shot out from under me and I slammed down on the wooden boards, wrist first. Oh well, at least it wasn’t my head that made contact. That could have been really nasty!
Anyway, after being well looked after at Bega, now I’m home and taking it easy for a while. Tilly is happy to be my bed-rest buddy – there’s lots of time for pats and tummy rubs too!
But is this it for major challenges now, 2020? Bushfires, a demanding job, a global pandemic, and now a busted wrist – I think that will do me for the time being, thanks very much!
People fall in love with Mallacoota. Families come for a summer holiday, and a second one, and then keep returning for fifty years or more. People drop in to look at the view, buy a house on a whim, and stay for good. It’s that sort of place.
Mallacoota is my lifelong love affair. I’ve holidayed here forever, and now it’s my home. I’ll be here for good, because this is where I feel truly alive.
Watching Mallacoota burn was an experience I can’t quite believe ever happened, even though the brutal evidence is everywhere. It’s as though I’d been plucked out of normal life that day and dropped into another place; a strange and threatening landscape. It was how I imagined the end of a dying world might look – pitch black except for a vivid orange glow.
I’d left my house and taken shelter on the foreshore, with thousands of others, and the thing that struck me most was how calm everyone was. We’d all clicked into survival mode, I think. I sat in the car going over and over what I would do if the worst happened. It didn’t happen – despite the devastation, we were lucky that day.
A few weeks on, the atmosphere is unnaturally quiet. Normally, the big campground would be full of people having fun with their families and friends. But now, it’s like a ghost town; almost empty. It’s eerie – an unsettling reminder of that other strange reality. Continue reading “After the fires”
It’s the first day of the New Year, and I am writing by candlelight, while my dog and cat snooze at my feet.
Yesterday, after an eerie dawn revealed an ominous glow along the coast, I continued my fire plan by watering around the house as I watched sinister black leaves slowly drift to earth. They were very elegant actually, falling in graceful spirals, but I wondered about what was to follow. The smoke worsened, and my neighbour appeared in the gloom and said we’d been advised by the Country Fire Authority (CFA) to leave, because Karbeethong was on fire. Karbeethong is the area of Mallacoota to the north-west of my place, and I turned around to look at another orange glow in the sky. Fire ahead of me, and fire behind me – it was time to go.
Trying to stay calm, I stuffed the rest of my emergency supplies into the car, put the disgruntled cat into his transport box and shoved it into the station wagon, then got my dog, Tilly, onto the back seat. With one last glance and a whispered, “Good luck, little house,” I began to follow my neighbours’ car around the inlet towards the main campground where I knew fire trucks were defending our ‘place of last resort’. Continue reading “Facing the monster”
There’s been lots of very serious work going on around here lately, just like in this picture. In fact, that’s me in disguise in the middle, madly tapping away at the first draft of Book 2 in the Mirrabooka Romance series. Having just gone over the 30,000-word mark, I’m calling that halfway! Meanwhile, it’s springtime here on the coast, which means wind, wind and more wind – a bit like Tilly after she’s eaten too many of the revolting, squidgy things she finds on the beach.
We haven’t had anywhere near enough rain, unfortunately, which means everyone’s a bit nervous as fire season approaches. To quote one of our fire station personnel: “We’ve got 1,000 houses and two fire trucks. You do the maths”. Yikes! I’m glad my place is in a fairly cleared area. Even so, I’m doing lots of cleaning up in the yard to lower the fire risk as much as possible. Here’s hoping we get some decent rain soon.
It’s been ‘all systems go’ around here. Mirrabooka Magic (Book 1 in the Mirrabooka Sweet Romance series) has been published both as an ebook and a paperback, and Planet Single is now available in paperback too. Now to write Book 2 of the Mirrabooka series!
I’ve actually written quite a lot of it already, but only in my head. I do a lot of long drives to Melbourne (about seven hours on the road) and that time is perfect for picturing the scenes and listening to the characters interact with each other in my head. When they get too noisy I have to tell them to shut up so I can concentrate on driving. After all that, merely writing it down will be a cinch, right?
I also have another romcom that I’m about a third of the way through, but I’ve parked that one for now. I will get back to it someday, though, I promise!
PS – Do you like The Mirrabooka Magic cover? It’s from The Cover Collection. They do a great job and provide exceptional service Iincluding this 3D marketing image).
I am making progress with Mirrabooka Magic, honest, but in the meantime I decided Planet Single needed a new cover. I found this one at Beetiful Book Covers and thought it was perfect for the genre and the story. Hope you like it!
I’ve also recently discovered Instagram. It’s so much fun! I live in a photographer’s paradise surrounded by beautiful beaches, inland waterways, and unspoilt forests, so I’m enjoying rekindling my love of landscape and seascape photography and publishing the pics on Insta. Tilly also features in my feed – she’s very photogenic too – and even the grumpy old cat gets a look-in sometimes. Come and join in the fun – and if you mention any of my books I promise I’ll follow you. 🙂 Find my Instagram feed here.
My hopes of finishing my romance novel, Mirrabooka Magic, by Christmas were completely derailed by the arrival of Tilly – an 18-month-old rescue dog. She’s an Australian cattle-dog cross, and the ‘cross’ part is anyone’s guess. It’s lucky she’s cute, because it’s taken a lot of time and energy to settle her into our household. She gets very anxious when I leave her, and that anxiety manifests itself in house-destructing tendencies, which has been a challenge. Of course, it’s not her fault that I went crazy and bought a house too, and then had to transport her, the cat, and all my belongings 300 miles to a remote coastal village – but that’s a whole other story.
So is the time I went out to dinner and left Tilly in the house, then came home to find she had jumped up on the kitchen bench, got the lid off a container of cooking oil, eaten it all and then been sick on the brand-new rug in the living room. Twice! When I’ve recovered from the trauma, that and other Tilly exploits may become a new blog post. Now that life is settling down, I’m back to making progress on the romance, so stay tuned for more news about that. In the meantime, here is a picture of my gorgeous bundle of trouble, because she’s just so damn CUTE!