Home Just to Change Direction

I have been home for five busy days. It's amazing that I've arrived in time for Christmas parties! That's good. I'm also due for surgery. That's not so good. That probably won't happen. And that's not good  - as it was the main reason I came home.

A visit to my GP confirmed that COPD has extended into full blown asthma and I have probably had a recurrence of whooping cough. More medication! Before my 8.30am (!) appointment tomorrow with the surgeon, I have spent today in waiting rooms - blood tests, a chest xray, and a routine breast screening. I assume that the surgery will be postponed once again but hopefully on fairly soon so that I can resume my travels.

Christmas will be rather quiet this year. Andrew and the boys won't be down. Greg and Nikki and the two littlies are going visiting and may be camping. Krista and Umar and the boys and I will probably just do the Santa things and enjoy our airconditioned home. I imagine that any orphans will be welcomed at Keith's place where we have gathered the last few years. We now do the full family get together on the October long weekend and a cousins' reunion on the Sunday before Easter. As most of us have grandchildren now, we are committed to our 'down line' at Christmas.

I got inspired at the rallies to start writing poetry again and have added a blog to this one - silvergypsy1944rhymes.blogspot.com.  You can also click on at the top of my home page. I am having a ball writing these. Last night I had a call from someone selling funeral insurance. I got creative on the phone, explaining that my daughter was a taxidermist (well, she could have been!) and that I was going to stuffed as a museum specimen and then stored at home to look after the kids. I couldn't resist a poem called Get Stuffed. It was fun writing it and I got lots of feedback on my blog. With Toastmasters clubs all on a Christmas break, I imagine I'll use that blog for my creativity.

Gunnedah, steeped in history

Gunnedah claims Dorothea McKellar even though nobody is sure that she lived here. It is believed that she holidayed here and that this area inspired her most famous poem, My Country.
The best known verse goes like this (with apologies for any memory lapse)

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of drought and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me.

In Gunnedah I was impressed with the other acknowledgements of history. In the Pensioners' Hill Park there are a number of sandstone sculptures detailing the indigenous and the modern history of the town.

I followed the Poets' Walk around town. Copies of famous poems have been set up in appropriate places. 'Said Hanrahan" is in the grounds of the Catholic Church. 'The Bush School' is at the state school etc. I loved the concept but unfortunately they have not been maintained and are hard to find and equally hard to read.

Keeping Myself Amused

As I drove through Tenterfield today, I saw a sign painted on the road, saying 1501. I did a bit of maths and decided that it had nothing to do with the history of the Middle Ages. I thought about a time, one minute after three in the afternoon. That made no sense either. Fortunately within a couple of blocks I came across the same sign, not painted into a white box. It said simply 50 - and I was happy to go with the speed limit.

I entertained myself remembering signs I had seen along the way. A long term storage facility had a huge banner along the side saying 'Children Free'. I know a lot of parents who would be happy to put their kids into storage from time to time, even long term would be seriously considered. That would allow the cereal box header to come into play, 'Adults go free!' As someone who is experiencing the freedom of the road, I wish freedom for all adults.

Bundaberg soft drinks (like sarsaparilla and ginger beer) have a suggestion on the label, 'Invert bottle before opening'. I assume they want us to turn the bottle upside down to dislodge any sediment or to shake up the bubbles or for some other serious reason - and then turn it right way up before opening. Inverting and then opening would result in an empty bottle.

I've been to two Toastmaster meetings in the past two days. On Tuesday night I joined the Gunnedah Toastmasters for a Speechfest meeting. I was lucky enough to get on the program and did the final speech in the Speaking to Inform manual. I was a bit disappointed as I had a wonderful quote to finish with and forgot to read it. Because I have finally, after 35 years of Toastmasters, had the confidence to attempt my speeches without notes, I forgot I had the quotation written out and left on the lectern.

My evening ended on a high as Angela and Peter invited me to camp overnight at their farm. I had planned on free camping at the RV spot near the river but Angela insisted there was nobody there and I should come with them. Apparently there was thunder and lightning during the night but I slept through it all in the total quiet and dark of their property. I was a bit slow getting away as we talked for quite a while and I sorted out a few simple computer issues.

On Wednesday (last night) I went to the advanced club in Tamworth. Like most advanced clubs there were a lot of very experienced speakers and the agenda provided a good variety. I was involved in the warm up exercise and a Just a Minute segment.

I headed off north immediately after the meeting and stopped about half an hour along the road. I thought I had slept well but ended up having a short nap today at Armidale and another at Glen Innes. I was tempted at Tenterfield but continued to the Jennings Hotel which is a step over the border from Wangaratta. Tomorrow I'll be back in Queensland.

A Crappa and a Dunny

Enough said!

Emu Alley

Today seems to have been the day of the emu. It was almost like an outback version of the Teddy Bears' Picnic, there were so many family groups. I know the dad looks after the chicks and some of them looked quite hassled with a big brood to keep watch over. Perhaps it has been a good season. Most groups I've seen previously consist of three or four young ones. Today six to eight was common.

On Thursday night I stayed at a campsite just west of Broken Hill. Faith, whom I met at the Solos', was overnighting there as well. We talked from when I arrived until dark. I have so much enjoyed meeting up with friends along the way.

I spent a couple of hours in Broken Hill, then pushed on to Spring Hill rest area, only three other vans there but we still managed a happy hour. By the time I got moving this morning, those people had gone and the next campers were arriving. I hope someone finds and takes my step stool. It would have to be the good solid one I left, not the cheap plastic stool.

About an hour along the way, I stopped at Wilcannia. What a beautiful little town! The buildings are show pieces, many of them well over a century old. The police station, court house, post office are all lovely sandstone buildings with elegant proportions. Even some of the houses are the same stone. with wide verandahs. I stopped at Miss Bennett's for coffee. It is an older style cottage transformed into a comfortable coffee shop, with several rooms and outside areas all set up for hungry and thirsty visitors. The woman who owns it has one of the stone cottages - not really a cottage, a large rambling house.

These two trucks parked near me (you can see my van)
and I didn't hear either of them arrive.

Tonight I am at a truck stop at Cobar. I've just had a long hot shower and am sitting in the restaurant part of the roadhouse, checking mail and updating this blog.There are a few trucks coming and going but I've parked myself in a quiet spot. Once I get to sleep, I rarely hear the traffic.

Somewhere along the way, when I stopped for a snooze, I was talking to a couple of caravanners who say they never free camp because they have heard so many horror stories. I can't believe that. Free camping is a very convivial experience. There are almost always others around. The worst I have been aware of is the juvenile behaviour of some of the truckies who keep themselves entertained by blasting their horns as they go by camping areas. It doesn't work with me because it doesn't worry me if I am awake and I don't hear it if I am asleep. (And it serves them right if they come across sleep deprived drivers as a result of their fun.)