Japanese Gardens

The Smaller Portion has been telling me for a while 'We never go anywhere, we never do anything.'  He is right.  Guilt got to me this week and I agreed to go on an outing with him.

He chose to go to the Japanese Gardens at Cowra, some two and a half to three hours drive away.  We have been there before years ago and both liked it.  It is hot at the moment, and I am not at my best in the heat, but off we went.

It was truly beautiful, and I love the meld of the exotic and the native plants.  There are two ponds both stocked with koi carp and both frequented by ducks.

Have I mentioned it was hot?  Perspiration was running down my face (goodness how attractive) washing off my sunscreen.  I got burnt.

When we finished our wanders we were both parched and hungry so we wandered into the cafe.  Full.  Himself was not prepared to wait.  I grabbed a juice each and we headed off.  He refused to look for anywhere else to eat so we drove home.

Today, unsurprisingly, I am knackered and paying the painful price for an overfull, overheated day.  Was it worth it?  I don't know.  It was beautiful, and I did love the gardens.  Just the same at the moment my pain/gain barometer is falling into the negative zone.  Perhaps when I am no longer so tired and sore I will do the equation again.

Sunday Selections

Sunday Selections, brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, is an ongoing theme where participants post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

Anyone can join in, just post your photos under the Sunday Selections title, link back to Kim, then add your name to her Linky list at Frogpondsrock.

This week the home where my brothers and I were brought up was razed.  My mother had lived there from her arrival in Australia in 1952 until her death just after Easter 2004.   She was widowed twice while living there.

It is a green, peaceful and pleasant area and I have no doubt that a McMansion will be built in its place.

The Port-a-Potty has its own enclosure.  Very odd.

The view we had from the lounge room

Also razed was a wisteria vine which was more than 40 years old.  I have no doubt that it will be suckering and regrowing for some time to come.  Which gives me pleasure.

Jazz n Jewel

Kim at My Inner Chick recently asked for a post about the cats after she spotted them lurking at the bottom of the page.

It probably should be Jewel n Jazz since she joined us first but he has the more dominant personality poisonality by far.  Both cats are rescue cats and we were assessed interrogated before we were allowed to offer them a home.  Jewel had already been returned once because she was too vocal.  When we learnt that her previous owners lived in a flat and went to work leaving her shut in all day we were not at all surprised she complained.  A lot.

Jazz had been living down by the Queanbeyan River when he was captured and has an independent nature.  I have been known to complain that he is psychotic.  He certainly thinks I am lower in the pack hierarchy than he is.  Marginally above Jewel, but considerably below him.  Occasionally he challenges my Smaller Portion for the position of Top Cat, but mostly accepts the position of second in charge.  Each day he draws blood from somewhere on my person.  His preferred trick is to stretch up from the ground and hook his feet into my butt.  Then he lifts his hind legs off the ground.  He wakes me by reaching under the bed clothes and slashing.  He does neither of these things to the Smaller Portion.  Every so often he starts to 'sing' and launches himself at me.  He is not satisfied until he has bitten and scratched me, drawing blood.  Honour satisfied he wanders off purring.  Again this is something he never does to the Smaller Portion.  I have tried squirting him with water.  He gets very wet but it doesn't alter the outcome.  He will continue until I bleed.  If I leave the room he will wait until I return.  It is lucky that I have reduced sensation, and that I heal well.  It is also fortunate that he is often an exceedingly loving and cute cat.

They retained the names they came to us with, with a small exception.  Jazz was Jazzpurr because he purrs so often.  This made me feel unwell.  He is now Jazz and continues to purr loud and long.

They have very different natures and I worried that they would be unable to get along.  The first few weeks were fraught.  Jazz hid under furniture and peed himself every time he heard Jewel's bells.  Then he realised he was bigger.

Now they get on remarkably well.  They have their moments though.  Jazz will leap upon Jewel and flatten her.  She immediately swivels round, takes his ear in her mouth and bites down while shrieking 'he is hurting me' so someone will rescue her.  It works.

They teach each other things.  Jazz taught himself to open the fridge by inserting a powerful paw into the door jamb and pulling.  Jewel is not as strong.  She watched him for a bit and is now able to snout the fridge open.  We now have a child proof latch on the refrigerator to keep the cats out.

Jewel's favourite toy is an acorn shell.  We found her in the kitchen one morning having a wonderful time batting it around and picking it up in her mouth to move it to better locations.  To get that first acorn she had to cross the road, pick it up in her mouth, cross the road again, jump a wall to reach the back yard and bring it in through the back door.  All with it in her mouth.  These days we collect them for her.  Jazz also likes the acorn game, but unsurprisingly, plays rough.  When he bites down, the acorn has to be replaced.  If they bat them out of reach they will come and complain until we retrieve or replace it.

We recently bought some new computer chairs.  The Smaller Portion's is slightly softer.  Guess which one the cats have claimed.  If Jewel gets there first, Jazz will climb up with her.  He will then start to stretch and flex.  If she doesn't get the hint he will bite her.

Are their lives better for coming to live with us?  Almost certainly.
Can we imagine life without either of them?  An emphatic no.

Sunday Selections

Sunday Selections, brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, is an ongoing theme where participants post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

Anyone can join in, just post your photos under the Sunday Selections title, link back to Kim, then add your name to her Linky list at Frogpondsrock.

This week it is birds again.  For the last few days we have been watching an adolescent galah with some concern.  He appears to have left the nest too early (or been abandoned) and is more than a little confused.  He is at our place for much of each day.  There is food in plenty for him, but we would feel happier if he learnt more behaviour appropriate to his species.  He is rarely seen with galahs, preferring the company of corellas and wood doves.  He also doesn't know enough to get out of the way of me - I was able to walk within a couple of feet of him before he ambled away.  He also has no fear of the car.   My smaller portion had to stop the car twice while reversing out on Friday.

Adult galahs look like this.

The colours in the fledglings are more muted, and look like the photos below.  The topknot seems to stay largely pink until adulthood.

He appears to be male.  The females have a red iris while the males have a brown one.