For You

My painting exhibit opened on the first of April. At Gallery Tasmania.

Three months of painting during every one of Simon's nap times, bed times, painting painting painting. I got 12 of my 20 pieces done in that short time.

There some important things learned from (finally) doing this.

Like that I am very very afraid that people will think I have "moved on" or am fully functioning, just because I can tackle a project like this. Truth is, my head is STILL rarely on straight. Grief does crazy things to you, physically and emotionally, and I find it remarkably hard to get to the end of a day and, regardless of how good it may have been, not break down and wonder how in the world I am going to muster the energy to get up the next day and do it all over again.

This started out as just "something to do" so I would have a goal to work towards and not let myself get completely sucked into my grief over loosing Ben. Because, to quote Finnick in Mockingjay:

"It takes ten times longer to put yourself together as it does to fall apart." 

It's taking all my energy just to keep moving on day to day as it is. I can't afford to fall apart because I don't have the energy to put myself back together again. This project, painting with a deadline, has kept me together. It has been frustrating at times, since during my free-time sometimes the last thing I've wanted to do is more work. But, while I've forgotten all the science-y reasons behind it, art, even just coloring with crayons in a coloring book, makes you feel good. It relaxes, and just... helps.

Slowly, I realized that the painting was more than just something to keep me together. It was something I was doing FOR Bennet. Using his memory, the pain caused by losing him, and his far-too-short life, for something good, something beautiful. Because each day that passes feels like I leave him further and further behind. Each day that passes is another day since I last felt him move inside my belly. Another day since I last held his small body in my arms. Another day further away from the day I left him in his small coffin on the side of a hill, alone. Painting, for him, brought him closer to me. Helped remind me that I carry him with me, in memory, always. That while the days bring me further from events, they don't bring me further from him.

And so, my paltry offering to his memory, for now, anyway, are these:

(To view the photos larger, just click on them)
(Due to differences in monitor settings, colors may appear different than in real life. Also, pictures rarely, if ever, do justice to paintings)
(Somehow, with both of us taking photos of everything, one piece STILL managed not to get photographed. I swear I did 20)

Poppies

Poppies Ready For Harvest

Saying Goodbye

Wrong Turn Down a Goat Trail

Another Wrong Turn

To the Water

Behind the Clouds

Storm's Coming

Black Cockatoo

Fairy Wren

Digger's Paradise

Rainy Day in Paradise

Mist and Sunrise

First Date

Open Road

Mathinna Falls

Hide and Seek

His Sheep

Westmorland Falls

(If you are reading this and are in Tasmania, or ever plan on visiting Tasmania, drop in to Fudge 'n' Good Coffee, that houses Gallery Tasmania, to look at other great local artwork, as well as try some, well, GREAT fudge and good coffee. No, I'm not sponsored or anything like that and that's why I say this. I just really like their fudge and coffee.)

Hike to Westmorland Falls

This past weekend was a very busy one for us. It was labor day weekend in Tassie, which meant three day weekend! Three days Phillip had off work to spend with Simon and me.

But since an old friend/my sister-in-law's now-fiancée-but-over-the-weekend-was-her-boyfriend was visiting, there were extended family outings planned. Which turned in to just the two of them, us three, and my mother-in-law, for a hike to Westmorland Falls. Then an "only our little family" outing to   Steam Fest, but that's fodder for another post.

Playing with a new texture: moss

Hiking with a toddler is... interesting. This was a fairly easy hike. Not flat, but not a whole lot of steep inclines that can be typical of hiking paths around here. But it was not stroller or pram friendly at all. Thankfully, Simon seems to have even more energy than your average 1.5 year old, and wanted, and was able to, walk most of the 2+ hour hike. The only parts he didn't walk were the parts we deemed to steep and slippery for him, or when we walked very close to water or over bridges. And he fought us the whole time to get down and walk himself.

A little over an hour of walking and we reached the main falls. It was beautiful. While us adults find such things calming and want to relax for a bit by them enjoying the beauty, our little toddler wanted to keep waking and exploring (no tired feet or little legs on this one, let's keep moving!). Phillip was kind enough to take him tramping through some mud and bushes so I could take photos.

Throwing leaves off the bridge on the way to the falls

The walk back was slightly more relaxed. Simon walked nearly the whole way back, complaining, again, at any assistance given so he didn't tumble head over heels down steep embankments. I ended up with an excruciatingly sore knee (no idea why) and a bad blister because I stepped in water while taking photos.

It was a lovely walk though, and we'd love to do it again!

The end result of over two hours of walking

Simon was pooped at the end of the walk, but somehow not utterly exhausted. He napped for a solid 40 minutes in the car, woke up, and ran some more.

I don't wonder why I'm so tired at the end of every day, any more. This child needs this level of activity every day to keep him happy and sane!

So Long, Farewell...

All our American guests are gone (picture a very sad face maybe holding back some tears).

The Rules left Wednesday afternoon, and the boys left early this morning. Though, not as early as they were meant to. But, before I tell THAT story, I of COURSE have to relate our wonderful walk yesterday, to wind up their trip.

It was in the rain. And not just the normal rain that we get here, like, 90% of the time (I'm only sort of joking about the 90%...). It was a DOWNPOUR. And beautiful. Most of the day the clouds teetered between pouring buckets and just plain hard rain.

But, around 5, there was a small break in the rain, so we decided to go for a walk.

By break, I mean it was just regular raining. And by break, I mean a few minutes because our walk went for almost two hours, and we all came back absolutely drenched.

It was worth it though. While it may have been ridiculously wet out, it was warm enough that it wasn't annoying to be that wet. That, and we were moving quite a lot, so the drenching kept sweating at bay.

And it smelled wonderful out there. We walked up the back of the Paradise property my in-laws own, through forestry property. So lots and lots of large pines, ferns and moss and blackberries and native other undergrowth. Mix all that with the general freshness of the air here, and clean hard rain, and it smelled just... divine. The clean smell of pine and plants and rain and fresh dirt....

Taking the main road home

Not one inch dry.... but it was fantastic!

So, Irish stew was eaten, goodbyes were said, and off we went. But not before the two Anthonys got some more quality time.

Home we went, and then they packed. Well, MATT packed, I packed Anthony's bags since I had gifts to send home that I didn't want breaking. Matt checked the flights, and their first one from Tasmania (out of Launceston) was delayed to take off at 9:30AM instead of 6:30. Which wasn't terrible news because the 6:30AM flight meant we needed to be up by 3:30 in order to wake up a tiny bit and drive to Launceston to make the flight. 

Phillip and I checked it around 2:30AM though, and it was delayed until 10:30 (because of fog, which is a risk you take when you fly out of Launceston). Not nearly enough time for them to make their second big flight from Melbourne to Chicago. So dear tired Phillip spent time online and on the phone trying to figure something out. After a few more hours of sleep, and some more calling, he finally got hold of someone who was EXTREMELY helpful. The Qantas airline ended up putting the boys on a Jet Star flight that left earlier. Then Jet Star ended up just putting them on a flight straight to Sydney to catch up with their big flight to the States. 

All worked out ok, as far as we know. They should be in the air right now, and Phillip and I will be working on catching up on two weeks worth of lost sleep (to a very good cause!), and getting used to a quiet house again...

Fishy

Our Little Red has returned to us!

We told our landlord what happened with the ducks, chickens, and the dog encounters, he phoned the neighbor, they apologized, offered compensation (we're happy if they just keep the pup tied up), and then latter our landlord phoned us saying there was a chicken wandering by his house near the creek. Sure enough, it was our battered little chicken, missing plenty of feathers and with some small bloody marks around her neck.

Maybe when Phillip chased the dog, it did what he'd hoped and dropped the chicken, giving her a chance to skeedadle. So she's back, our rooster looks much less depressed now, and the neighbors are going to keep their dog tied up and fix the fences. I guess it's a big thing if your dog starts killing other people's livestock/animals, or wandering on their property, over here.

Phillip on the beach, thinking about jumping in

Anywho, the rest of the holiday weekend was wonderful and hot, and we spent all Sunday afternoon fishing with both of Phillip's brothers, then had his  youngest brother over for nachos (apparently he's now addicted to Mexican food, and, as I've said before, you really can't get it here. So we make do with my Americanized version, which is all he knows anyway).

New Years Eve, Phillip having me pose on the beach. Hi mom and dad!

Fishing in at the river, New Years Eve. Phillip and I joined (to watch and talk a bit) right before they left

Baiting hooks, New Years Day

Stewart's Flat Head. One of the them, anyway.

My one and only fish: a puffer fish hooked through the side. They're a nuisance fish, and pretty much useless

The dock we fished off all day. After maybe 6 hours, I got bored and started wandering taking photos. 

Cool, Clear, Water

I don't just live in Australia, but in RURAL Australia.

Most people out here are on tank water instead of city pipes or something like that. It's about the equivalent of being on your own well water and not sharing with anyone else. These tanks colect rain water from your roof and have basically a screen filter to filter out leaves and dirt. Though, if your fire is very smoky while it's raining, you might end up with smoke-flavoured water.

We, in our new house, share a 5,000 gallon tank with our landlord, who lives on the same property, but is blocked by trees and so we really never see much of each other (though he seems quite nice). He doesn't use much water during this time of year, just boils a little in his kettle for drinks and what I'm assuming is some kind of sponge bath, based on what he's told us. My husband and I, as water saving measures, try to take less then 10 minute showers (which is hard to do if you want to actually shave your legs AND wash your hair), use very little water to wash dishes, have a water saving washing machine (and really, I only do 3-4 lads a week, if that), and try to not flush the toilet every time it's used (gross, I know, but come summer when it stops raining so much, we won't have as much water to use for, say, drinking, if we did flush often).

However, we've been hearing the water pump run. Frequently. When we're not using any water. ANd, as none of our pipes leak and our toilet doesn't run constantly, we thought perhaps that our landlord was using more water then he claimed. Perhaps something to do with his fruit trees. Or a kinked hose or something. But nothing we were worried about until he came up to drop off the rental agreement and chat for a bit and started taping on the water tank while explaining how to clean the filter.

He was surprised when it sounded the same at every level he was tapping on it. And looked happy, saying it must be full, when he thought it would be at three quarters at least. I thought it sounded empty, because water doesn't generally sound THAT echo-y when you hit the container it's in.

So after he left, My husband climbed up on the tank and looked in. Sure enough, there was a little over a foot left in it. He called up our landlord to tell him about it and see if they could locate where the leak was. He thought it was our toilet, and told us how to fix it, until we showed him our toilet and he saw it wasn't running. Turned out, it was one of his own fittings on some hose he'd done earlier this year. It was some sort of T-fitting (or whatever, I didn't listen that well apparently) that he'd attached to the pump, another pump, a hose, and the a tap of some sort that had nothing to seal it off, but he thought would be fine since there was a tap.

It obviously didn't seal off correctly, ever, and has been hemorrhaging water.

Our landlord went off to fix it, and filled up the tank to about half full, using a pump, with creek water. (So I'm now boiling drinking water and putting it in bottles in the fridge, because the filter doesn't filter out bacteria or whatever the guy up the road uses on his farm) He also gave us $50 for the power bill, because of the pump constantly running, and because it was his fault it was running.