THE SPIES WHO LOVE ME…

 

Kookaburra...graphite drawing I did a few years ago

Magpies

Butcher Bird

Noisy Miner

.

Pied Currawong

Constantly I’m under surveillance by a group of tuxedo-clad spies, and by others of various sizes, dressed in outfits of varying designs and colours. They’ve bugged my place with hidden cameras of that I am certain.  I strongly suspect they’ve buried periscopes out and about in the yard.  My every movement is being monitored. No matter how quiet or stealthily-made a movement I make, out of nowhere they appear at my screen door, peering inside, blatantly letting their presence be known.  How do they know what I’m up to if not for hidden scrutiny devices?  Sometimes the spies even tap on my closed, sliding glass door to ensure I won’t ignore them.  That’s how determinedly persistent they are. Every step I take….I can’t get away with anything!

For the 20 plus years I shared my life with my two beloved furry best friends, Remy and Shama, every afternoon, when cutting up meat for their dinner, I gave the neighbouring birds the meat scraps. I can’t let them down. The magpies, kookaburras and the cheeky, fearless, little spitfires disguised as butcherbirds are not dependent on me for their food, but they do know that every day I have special treats for them.  Frequently, currawongs visit, too.  Lately, a few noisy miners have quietly joined the gang.  I wonder how much the joining fee is. 

I’ve no fears of being swooped on by the magpies.  They know I’m their mate, and am not a threat.  I call the magpies “Maggie”, the kookaburras, “Kooka”, and the butcherbirds, “Butch”, or…“Tommy Butcher” (when I was a child one of our neighbour’s name was “Tommy Butcher”.  He was a cop). The noisy miners, I call “Digger”. 

To my delight, the maggies introduced their babies to me a few weeks ago.  The “babies” are no longer small. They are as big as their parents, but they’ve not yet graduated to suits similar to those of their elders. The young ones are still clad in their murky grey-coloured rompers. No doubt they’ll soon don tuxedos, spread their wings, and fly off in search of new adventures, forgetting me.

While unloading groceries from my car the other day, one of the magpies, in a world of his own, was wandering down the yard, grazing as he strolled.  “G’day, Maggie! Whatcha doin’?”  I called out to my feathered friend. 

Without fear or hesitation, the bird turned, and walked across to me, coming to a stop a couple of inches from my feet. His plucky, confident behavior gifted me a joyful start to my day. If I could have picked him up and given him a cuddle, I would’ve done so.  He was probably checking out my shopping bags to make sure their meat was among my purchases…it was….

When I was a little girl, often, as a form of affection, my mother called me, “Maggie”.  Why she called me so, I have no idea, but I liked it. Maybe it’s the reason I’ve a close affinity with the maggies!   Just a thought!  Don’t run and hide! I’ve no intentions of swooping on anyone. Dive-bombing isn’t a habit of mine.

Daily visits from the birds, the beauty of jacaranda blossoms, and mango season, all help lighten, a little, the burden of today’s troubled world. I love having the birds around...hearing their calls.  They're a chatty mob!

With so much beauty surrounding us, why do many humans fail to see it…to appreciate it?  Too many humans don’t want to recognise and appreciate what they’re part of - what they have.  The innately inhumane behavior of some, their lack of compassion, their cruelty, is never-ending. When will humans learn?  I wish I had a positive, ever-lasting answer. There’s too much violence, prejudice, hate, sorrow… let’s restore empathy, goodwill, respect, kindness, love, caring, laughter...

Ticks tick me off. They receive no empathy from me.  A couple of weeks ago, one little pest buried into my neck, nestling in behind my left ear lobe. For a few hours, after I’d successfully dislodged it, I eased the irritation it caused by applying - laying my head on - a cold pack of frozen blueberries. My head was still attached to my neck, by the way.  Almost freezing the affected area was/is an assured, quick way to rid the annoying after-effects of a nasty tick.  Maybe I’ll send a call out to the 18 rowdy Guinea Fowls that woke me one morning a while back to come and do their job. Guinea Fowls are supposed to be eradicators of ticks

Mango-Blueberry Smoothie: Blend until completely smooth, 3/4c Greek yoghurt, 3/4c milk, 3/4c frozen blueberries, 3/4c frozen mango chunks, 1tbs honey and splash of vanilla.  Add more milk if too thick.

Mango-Blueberry Cake: Preheat oven, 177C. Butter and flour a 23cm/ 9-inch square or round pan. In bowl, whisk together, 2c plain flour, 2-1/2tsp baking powder, zest of lemon and 3/4tsp salt.  Cream 1/4c softened butter and 3/4c sugar until fluffy.  Add 3/4c coconut milk, regular milk or favourite non-dairy ‘milk’ and 1 egg; mix well. Add the flour, zest, etc; mix well. Gently fold in by hand, 1c diced mangoes and 1c fresh or frozen blueberries.  Make crumble topping:  Combine 1/3c softened butter, 1/2c sugar, 1/3c flour, 1/2tsp cinnamon, and pinch nutmeg. Spread cake batter in pan; sprinkle crumble topping over batter. Bake for 20mins. Lower heat to 163C; bake another 25mins, or until toothpick comes out clean.

Mango-Blueberry Parfait: Grab 1 finely-diced mango, 1-1/2c fresh blueberries, vanilla yoghurt and some granola. Place layer of berries on bottom of glass dish or large glass, then granola, then yoghurt; add layer of mango, granola, and then yoghurt again. Repeat layers until dish/glass is full. Garnish with some berries, mango and granola. Chill until ready to devour.  

 

CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN

 

Guinea Fowl

  

                                                    Freshwater Creek, Hinchinbrook Island

 

Dugongs

                                              

 

Jaffas

Many years ago when I was a child, a neighbouring family had eleven kids. Not quite a dozen, but taking into account the parents, the family was a baker’s dozen.  The father was a lineman with the PMG aka Postmaster-General’s Department, which was originally established in 1901. In 1975 it was split into two to become Australia Post and Telecom.  Later on, Telecom morphed into Telstra.  So far, there it has remained…end of today’s history lesson.

For a couple of years the family lived in a large house on the upper side to us, but when their paternal grandmother died, she left her home, which was situated a couple of doors down the street a bit, to the ever-growing family. Without haste, lock, stock and barrel, into it they moved. To this day I still wonder how they all squashed into that house…and, I do mean “squashed”.  The house had only two bedrooms and a very small sleep-out!   For various reasons, we never became playmates.  The kids were younger than my brother and me. They also attended a different school to the one we did. The boisterous family reminded me of the popular Clifton Webb movie of the early Fifties; “Cheaper by the Dozen”.

At various stages of growth the kids scaled our fence to enter our yard, uninvited. Upon successfully infiltrating the barriers, the temptation to nick the small, brightly-coloured “fruit” from the dozen or so plants in our garden was too great to ignore. Within seconds, they’d discover the punishment for their mischievous felonious activity was painfully over-powering. 

To their distress and agony they realised what they’d ingested were very hot Bird’s Eye Chillis.  Loud, wretched cries reverberated through the air.  Glasses of cold milk were swiftly dispensed by our mother or grandmother to help alleviate their suffering. The kids’ brief attempts at a life of crime rapidly came to an end, as did their desire to ever again devour Bird’s Eye Chillis. There was no need for a guard dog to keep uninvited children out of one’s yard when the very hot chillis unfailingly did the trick.

An equal number of the round, colourful, small Cherry chilli peppers also grew in our yard.  Looking like little lollipops, they, too, were temptations not to be ignored by wandering fingers. They’re not quite as hot as their fiery cousins, the Bird’s Eye, but still have a bite to them when bitten.

One morning a few weeks ago I was rudely awoken, not by a dozen, but by a dozen and a half… i.e. 18…loudly-honking Guinea Fowls.  Yep! I counted each and every one of the raucous, feathered critters after they’d hatched.  Rudely shattering the peace, they strutted down the yard close to my bedroom window not giving a damn who they woke.  If I discover where the rowdy intruders roost, I might do similar back at them to see how they like it!

Living in North Queensland had many advantages.  One such benefit occurred on a sunny Sunday a few days before re-opening the resort at Cape Richards on Hinchinbrook Island to visiting holiday-makers.  For a couple or so hours my staff and I took a well-deserved break away from our daily slog. By boat we visited Freshwater Creek, one of the island’s meandering waterways.  

As we approached the jetty upon our return to the resort, I cut the boat motor to allow us to wallow in the wonder of a rare occurrence.  The boat, with us still in it, was surrounded by half a dozen or more inquisitive dugongs. Apparently, they, too, were enjoying their Sunday outing.  It was a unique moment in time.  One I’ll never forget. 

Another memorable dugong moment I experienced occurred one day when I was sitting on the foreshore at Cardwell, the township on the mainland across from Hinchinbrook Island. Lost in a world of my own, I sat appreciating the stunning surrounding area when suddenly a herd of a dozen or more dugongs cruised by. Another cherished rare moment in time....

When I was a kid 12 pence allowed entry to Saturday afternoon matinees at Gympie’s Olympia Theatre, with enough left-over pence to purchase a packet of Jaffas (one had to roll at least a dozen Jaffas down the theatre aisles), and a cold drink. Actually, I preferred delicious Fantales to Jaffas.  I loved reading the stories about the film stars printed thereon. Sadly, in July just gone, Fantales have gone. Fantales  no longer exist…at least, not the chocolate-coated caramel variety.  Allens/Nestles decided to discontinue making them.…

All too soon we’ll be doing the 12 days countdown to Christmas.  Out comes the abacus. Now, where did I hide it?

Vegetable-Bean Chilli: Heat 2tbs olive oil in pot over med-heat until shimmering. Add l large chopped onion, 2 chopped large capsicums, 2 diced carrots, 2 diced celery stalks, and 4 minced garlic cloves. Cook, stirring, until just tender, 8-10mins. Add 2tbs chilli powder, 1tbs ground cumin, 2tsp oregano. 2tsp salt, 1/2tsp ground black pepper, and 1/4tsp cayenne. Add 800g canned, un-drained tomatoes, 227g un-drained, canned, roasted green chillis, 3 cans beans (pinto, black, kidney, cannellini, or garbanzo; drained and rinsed). Add 1 to 2 cups veggie stock. Bring to boil; then simmer, uncovered, 20-40mins. Stir in 425g canned, drained corn kernels.

Sweet Potato Chilli: Heat 1tbs oil in large pan on med-heat. Add 1 chopped, large onion; stir occasionally 4-5 mins. Add 4 finely chopped garlic cloves, 2-3 finely diced fresh chillis, and 2 large sweet potato cut into 3cm cubes. Cook a few mins; season. After a few minutes, stir in 2tbs tomato puree, 400g canned tomatoes, 400g canned black beans, 1tbs Vegemite, 2tbs red wine vinegar, 1tbs cumin, 2tsp smoked paprika, 2tsp oregano, 4 bay leaves, and 1c veggie stock. Break tomatoes apart with a spoon; mix well; bring to a gentle simmer; cook on low-med-heat 20mins. Then stir in 4-5 cups of fresh spinach and small bunch of chopped coriander.. Simmer for another few mins. Once the spinach has wilted and the sweet potato cubes are soft, adjust seasoning; serve.    

 

WHERE…WHEN...THEN…THERE..AND…NOW…

 

Orchid Beach, Hinchinbrook Island

A couple of pencil drawings by me...and a couple of acrylic paintings

Omar Sharif

 

 

I’ve been ploughing through papers, files, old photos etc.  My sudden burst of unseasonal, unusual energy shocked even me.  It’s amazing what I’ve discovered. Delving through the pile wakened a host of long-forgotten memories. Memories filed away in the depths, not only of the folders, but also of my mind.  Once the portal of my brain’s library was opened, I stepped through the entrance.  Many surprises were in store.

A couple of graphite drawings and a water-colour painting were unearthed. Why they were hidden away, and not out on display with others I’d created during my “Artistic Period”, beats me. Rather than blankly looking at my blank sketch pads, pencils and paints, perhaps it’s time to dust them off; time for a 21^st century Renaissance.  Procrastinate I do. Poetry, lots of poems, creations of my long-past “Creative Period”, also resurfaced.  

Interesting finds amongst the hoard are copies of letters I’d written, and letters I’d received in years past.  Letters written by guests from when I managed the then resorts on Hinchinbrook Island and Newry Island restored many happy memories.  Correspondence received from overseas guests, who penned missives, not only during the continuation of their travels, but also after they’d returned to their home countries stirred up the past.

 Klaus, a fine young German backpacker spent a couple of weeks on Newry. After leaving the island, he wrote often.  He crossed the Pacific Ocean to South America before finally ending up back home in Hamburg.

Further memories were rekindled when I read letters from Andrei, a young man with whom I had the good fortune of spending a couple of weeks in the early 90s when I was chef/manager of the Collinsville Coal’s single men’s mess/canteen and accommodation in the township of Collinsville.  During Andrei’s stay, much to his delight, we visited Airlie Beach and surrounds.

Andrei was originally from Yakutsk, capital city of Sakha, Eastern Siberia, the vast Russian province. After 'Glastnost' - introduced in the late 1980s by the then Russian President, Mikhail Gorbachev - an elite group of young folk was selected from across Russia to visit the Western World to learn about capitalism, business etc.  Australia was one of the designated destinations, and, therefore, the company of my employ.  The company, (head office in Yatala, south-east Queensland) had done work with the UN (another story for another day).

Some of the selected clever few were sent to the USA and others to the UK.  About 100 intelligent, fortunate young people were chosen out of the thousands and thousands who’d been nominated from across the broad expanse of Russia. Andrei was one of the chosen few. For a brief moment in time he’d been placed in my care. Presently my concerns for his welfare are on high alert.  We began corresponding again a few years ago. He was, by then, living in Moscow, and married to a lovely young woman from Ukraine.  I fear for their well-being…enough said…

During my rummaging, I stumbled across photos taken Halloween, circa 1982, and I received the fright of my life. With pounding heart, eventually I realised the horrific witch in the photos was, in fact, me!  Dressed in a flowing black robe, wearing a monstrously wicked witch’s rubber mask and black hat, I would’ve scared The Witches of Eastwick, the Wicked Witch of the West, Maleficent et al.  These days I’ve no need to wear a mask.  I’m scarier enough without one. God help my fellow shoppers when I’m out and about.  My apologies….

A newspaper article titled; “Dr. Zhivago star comes up trumps”, dated February, 7^th, 1976 resurfaced during my digging. It tells the story of Hollywood star, and champion bridge player, Omar Sharif’s bridge tournament at Brisbane’s Gateway Inn on the evening of March, 10^th, 1976.  He was in the world’s top 50 bridge players. Beside Sharif in the photo sits Ethel, my now late ex’s aunt. She was also an excellent bridge player. Ethel, who also has now passed away, often related the story of her time spent with Omar Sharif; of how difficult it was to concentrate on the cards while in his presence.  His lovely, large brown eyes were massive distractions.  Perhaps his entrancing eyes were his secret weapons used against his opponents. 

Memories…they, too, can be distractions….

 

Witch’s Brew: Process 1 stalk thinly slice lemongrass.1/4 can coconut milk, 1-3 green chillies, 1c packed fresh coriander, 1 chopped shallot, 4-5 garlic cloves, 1x2 inch sliced ginger, 1tbs soy sauce, 2tbs fresh lime juice, 1/2tsp cumin, 1/2tsp coriander, 1/2tsp white pepper,1tsp brown sugar and 1.2tsp salt; blitz to a paste. Place a wok or large frying pan over med-high heat. Add 1-2tbs olive oil; swirl around; add the green curry paste. Stir-fry 1min. Add 1-1/2c cubed firm tofu, or 1 can rinsed, drained chickpeas. Add 1/2-3/4c veg stock, plus  2-3 lime leaves (if using). Stir; reduce heat to med-low. Simmer 5-7mins. Add ¾ can coconut milk, 1-1/2c chopped asparagus or green beans, 1 handful cherry toms, and 1 green capsicum, chopped into bite-size pieces; simmer 10-13mins. Taste for salt and spice. Serve directly out of wok, or a serving bowl. Sprinkle over fresh basil and sliced red chillies.

Spooky Strawberries: Line baking tray. Melt 227g white chocolate. Wash and dry 24 large strawberries. Hold each strawberry by the stem; dip in chocolate until it’s almost entirely covered. Hold it over the bowl, letting excess drip off, Place strawberries on baking tray. Repeat process. Refrigerate until choc is set. Meanwhile, melt 1/4c choc chips. Decorate berries with the chocolate, making eyes and mouths to resemble ghosts. Completely set before serving.