We caught the ferry on Thursday afternoon, after a quick trip to Emu Ridge Eucalyptus Distillery, where several treats awaited.
>Severely expensive creamed honey, one for me and one for my neighbour who babysat my plants.
>Eucalyptus oil for Bethany, who likes such things.
>A dead cat skin for Jeff.
No, we didn't buy it, but he liked it.
Feral cats are a major problem for the wildlife in Australia (as they are in the US) and the Aussies tend to be a little more pragmatic in their solution. As in, kill the cat, skin it, sell the skin to get funds for more "solutions."
>Two joeys, who had been rescued from dead mothers. Over $1,000 had been spent on veterinarian bills for the little dears. I threw a few coins in the collection jar. It's an interesting juxtaposition of values. On the one hand, farmers kill kangaroos by the hundreds. On the other, people rescue the joeys who are left orphaned by the same farmers.
After disembarking the ferry, we made a beeline for Sydney. It took us two days. The first day, we spent a couple of hours driving through verdant farmland.
Then this....
...for hours and hours.
It was more like how we had imagined driving in Australia to be and IT WAS NOT FUN. The towns were few and far between and we had a long way to go before we reached our motel in Tooleybuc. The last three hours were in the dark. Picture me driving, Jeff "navigating," both pairs of our eyes glued to the road, scanning both sides to the full extent of the headlight beams. We were paranoid about hitting a kangaroo, because there is some strange clause in Australia about rental car insurance not covering kangaroo dents. We made it, gratefully, to our bed without injury to car or kangaroo.
The next night we arrived in the Blue Mountains to stay our last weekend with my old friends, Ron and Wendy. Ron was my favourite teacher in high school and the closest thing I ever had to a mentor. He encouraged me to think for myself rather than just parrot back my book learning. He also spent many hours trying to guide me through my teenage dilemmas. I was, in my opinion, in my least like-able time of life, but he liked me anyway. I can't say that I listened or heeded his words very well. It took many years for me to hone my thought processes, but I have finally learned to think for myself! In the harsh school of life, I've also refined my morals and scruples. But he tried, and I have always been grateful for that.
Any time Ron and I have ever spent together has always been a battle of wits and words.
Time has not changed things.
Except for, maybe, Wendy holds her own with gusto!
Wendy is a grandma extraordinaire.
And she makes a delectable steamed pudding. With custard.
I've been thinking about it ever since we got home.
Must be time to buy a steamer bowl.
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