The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Silhouette.
Taken on my Nokia Lumia 520 windows phone, just now.
Catch Up.
The ducks let me get closer the other day. Armed with my Fujifilm FinePix A607, on it’s best setting, I took about six photos, none were decent. Three ducks and four galahs on offer! Also a magpie, further down the road. It’s a gallery, so if you click on it, the larger images will show up.
Wood Ducks
Pair of Wood Ducks
Magpie
Wood Ducks
I’m not around much at the moment. Getting some housework done. I’m sort of working on my book, too. I’ve decided to rewrite it, after all, so my grandchildren will be able to read it. I’m sure now that is why I’ve been reluctant to get stuck into it. I’ve printed out 137 pages. I’ll chop it into scene sections, scribble ideas all over the bits, and shuffle them around into some sort of structure. Yes, I suppose it is outlining … again. Gotta be done!
I’m walking the dog every morning but the photos are getting BORING! I’ll have to take some photos elsewhere.
Three times a week, I’m on the treadmill. I actually jogged a little this morning – it was so damned cold and windy I wanted to get the dog walk over quick. Then my chest was a bit tight, so I just walked a bit slower on the treadmill, taking a little over 30 minutes to get the 5 laps (2 kms) done. But at least I did it. Not losing any weight, but not trying at the moment. Not gaining either.
I’ve turned my learning blog back on, just a couple of spots privatized so I don’t breach copyright (information I want to keep at my fingertips). I’m enjoying the Learn How to Learn course – it has 177,000 participants now. I’ve started another Climate Change course, this one based in Melbourne, Australia. I’m liking it much better than the Save the World thing I tried for a few weeks before. I decided not to do the Comics and Graphic Novels course after I borrowed a few books from the library. Not interested in graphic novels, now. I had to prune some classes out anyhow, else I’ll never get anything done. Especially now I know that the number one rule for learning is plenty of sleep.
With Spring just around the corner, I’m going to have to get out into the garden and beat it into submission. We have to rebuild the side fence, abandoned once the cold set in. We have to fix the shed or pull it down … maybe replace with a nice new garage one day – a carport is more likely.
Renovations are urgent in the house, must have some stumps rotting, as there’s a definite shift in the floor, worsening this year. (My son told me the wall was falling in and I tried to tell him it was only a warped wall panel from the rain dripping in.) We will be doing up the ‘wet’ areas before Christmas, including the kitchen sink.
Something will have to give, won’t it! It won’t be the blogging world, because I just love it. I feel like I have a whole new lease on life, throwing off stagnation. Besides, I’ll have LOTS of ‘before and after’ photos to show you before the year is out. And a book to brag about.
Anything else? [rack brains] Nope, believe not. I’m behind in the usual photo challenges, so some photos coming up over the next few days. Also doing a writing challenge.
Okay, off to watch the end of X-Factor and then The Amazing Race. Might chop and stick the book scenes during the ads. I have to spend some time over that side of the room with Mr R. to prove I love him.
😀 Catch you later. Thanks for dropping by.
Family History Friday: My Nana and Papa.
Maisie and Les, 1961, at Uncle Kieth’s wedding in Mt Gambier.
Nana and Papa are my father’s parents. They both died in 1963, when I was 8 years old. We lived outside of Balmoral (Victoria), at Englefield. I remember, when everyone came back to our place from Papa’s funeral, asking my dad if he had cried. One of my aunts shushed me and hustled me off. I think I asked because I’d been amazed to see him cry after Nana died. She died suddenly from a brain haemorrhage and then Papa stopped taking his blood pressure medication; he keeled over about six weeks later, while shoeing a horse. I guess he felt bad – mum told me a doctor at the Horsham hospital told Papa is was okay to go to the football (I think that is why they were in Horsham, in the first place) and she died unexpectedly before he came back. Mum had a photo like this enlarged, and hand tinted, and put in a lovely frame. We grew up with it in the house until dad gave it to one of his siblings.
Leslie Joseph Cyril PARISH was born 1905, in Mt Gambier, South Australia. Mavis (Maisie) Olive Crute was born 1908 in Stawell, Victoria. Les and Maisie married 19th January 1928, at Horsham. Their first child was born late December (the babe in the photo above). Les and Maisie had seven children, with my dad being the third child, and the second son.
Our PARISH family line traces back to Smith Parish, baptised in Caldecote, Essex, Cambridgeshire, England, 1792, the bastard child of Sarah Parish. Maisie’s line goes back to Aspley Guise, Bedfordshire, England, to William White CRUTE, baptised 1796. One of my aunts did the research on dad’s family, long before I was remotely interested.
I remember Nana and papa with love: they were such generous, loving people. I had a large wart on the palm of one hand, and Papa purchased it from me for a penny. It vanished. Nana used to make me dry dishes, and I hated it. I’m not sure if I meant to drop a plate once, or if it was an accident, but I remember thinking Ha! she won’t make me dry again. No such luck. She made me clean it up and then I had to finish the rest of the drying on my own for ages, every night, after that.
Nana had a couple of sayings I loved. I’m sure I cracked up in giggles every time she said same. I smile, just recalling.
If I asked her what was for tea: it was always duck under the table. And if I asked her what she was knitting (she always seemed to be knitting): a wigwam for a goose’s bridle.
I’ve got to track down Papa’s obituary notice and add it here. He trained trotters, and drove them. I suppose he part-owned one or two, as well.
It’s not hard to see where my nose comes from. And Nana’s nose came from her mother. ❤
Horsham Cemetery. R.I.P.
Christine R 
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