The Mamblings of Reg

The Grand Canyoning

2006-03-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

So I finally got the pictures back from my canyoning trip! (Only three weeks ago, but feels like a blog-ternity). We went out to the Wollangambie Canyon a couple of Saturdays ago, and did an epic eight hour journey down the canyon (with a long lunch break, of course). It was so beautiful!!

Wollangambie is near the township of Mt. Wilson, on Bells Line of Road, in the Wollemi National Park, Blue Mountains. Apparently the canyon is somewhat of a 'highway' on Saturdays (popular with wannabe canyoners like me) but on this particular day we got up early enough to beat the rush and pretty much have the river to ourselves.

The wildlife is funky!! But most impressive was the gorgeous sandstone formations (for geo-nerds: drool!) and the clearness of the water, especially where the riverbed is sandy. I loved canyoning and I would go every day if I didn't have a job.

Check out that paddling action! Still adjusting to the wetsuit... The water was freezing though, so I'm glad for it!

Sweet air, big rocks... heaven!

The cliffs looked like big faces staring down as you float past.

A little detour...

In the darkness of the 'slot canyon' - a long thin canyon where the sunlight doesn't always reach the ground. We were wading through waist deep water in the pitch blackness, and the spiders were only visible in retrospect, once you had waded past them! It was worth it, though.

More of the Grand Canyoning

2006-03-23T16:38:00.000-08:00

When the river is too shallow to paddle, some wading is in order...

Hiding in dark caves... the water creates large overhangs in the rock above, making these watery hiding spots to paddle through.

Not all beer and skittles... a rock pile in the stream means scrambling over and lugging the airbeds with us.

Eventually, after throwing the airbeds ahead, we are able to climb through the fallen rocks and back into the river.

How's the serenity?!

Even More of The Grand Canyoning

2006-03-23T16:20:00.000-08:00

Exploring the entrance to the slot canyon - while inside, the air temperature dropped dramatically so that we could see our breath misting.

The King of all Yabbies, just under the surface of the water.

Anthony leads the way into a narrow "underground" channel of the river.

Friendly wildlife - the native lizards are obviously used to having paparazzi snapping their pictures all day long. This little guy was over 50cm long.

A Bleak Day Poem for the Stressed and Depressed

2006-03-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

Normally I wouldn't publish such junk however artistic integrity dictates that you must see the truth of my mamblings - including the ugly days. Read it and weep (possibly). Actually, don't read it! It'll just make you wonder what's wrong with me! (Nothing - I'm just a goose). Anyway, everyone knows that bitter miserable poetry is easier to write than happy poetry, except maybe Dorothea McKellar but she was a freak.

tyre days

my life is like a tyre
it just goes round and round
trying to get to someplace else
but always held on to the ground

i find out all the potholes
and all the broken glass
i sleep on concrete all the time
and never on the grass

when everything skids to a stop
i leave more of myself behind
nothing to show but black ribbons
nothing but puddles to find

i exist for the use of others
i roll to the chosen beat
i toil away on the journey
to save them from using their feet

when at last my time is over
and my tread is worn too thin
i'll be traded flat and forgotten
and left by a garbage bin

always heading to somewhere
never acheiving the goal
finally i will find my resting place
holding up dirt in a hole

Barbie Goes Camping

2006-03-12T22:09:00.000-08:00

The setting: The Untamed Australian Wilderness - a rugged and rustic outpost in the heart of the national park, where there is survival only for the toughest specimens humanity has to offer.

The characters: A tight-knit group of determined, fiery and slightly overawed adventurers - the challenge of the task ahead of them, and their comforts and daily concerns behind them; survival is their only goal.

Their leader: The fearless "Hitty", queen of the outdoors and seasoned outback traveller (not to be confused with a rap star of similar sounding title).

The Event?

Year Seven Camp.

I know, it sounds so much more glamourous when I leave that out!

The highlights? Showing the assistant principal an empty carton of beer from our campsite, watching the rafting "Spanish Explorers" struggle to paddle across a small ditch, the long and dizzy nights we spent high on Aerogard. The buses (3 of them) getting lost about 500m from the campsite. Braiding eighteen heads of hair. Watching the Barbies have to cross a muddy swamp.

But by far the most memorable moment was the five hours during the first night spent chasing the phantom "mole-rat". The existence of such a thing as a mole-rat is yet to be confirmed - especially since he was only ever inside a fully sealed tent, and managed to camoflague himself against the bare canvas when we removed everything else to prove there was no rat (twice). The girls remained unconvinced, and slept only in mortal terror for their lives. I think, if there was even a mole-rat, that he had more to worry about than the girls. He probably died of Aerogard overdose.

Wedding of the year

2006-02-24T18:04:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to Steph and Shane on reaching the one week mark in their marriage! (Don't scoff at this acheivement - if you can make it that far, there's an excellent chance that your wedded bliss will survive the rigours of a second, and even a third week). The actual event was pretty much your textbook nuptials:

The night before the wedding: Typically the bride and groom are emotionally vulnerable and fraught, and only a slight mishap is enough to send everyone reeling, however the problem usually ends in smiles through the tears and nothing that listening to the 'walking down the aisle' song won't fix.

The hair and makeup: Is full of stories of wedding disasters and references to the bride's natural beauty, and flattery of the MOTB (mother of the bride). The MOTB's hair and makeup take longer that the bride's - this is acceptable.

The groom: Is still unshaven in jeans and a t-shirt forty minutes before the ceremony. The best man is checking out the hotel room. Shouldn't you boys be getting ready, yet? You have to be there in twenty minutes. It is a ten minute drive.

The ceremony: A beautiful tree-lined, romantic, tear-shedding affair with some relaxing jokes from the minister. Followed by a two-hour photo shoot while the guests test the champers. Oh, and the bride and groom pronounced husband and wife, much to everyone's releif.

The reception: Invariably ends with everyone dancing barefoot to music that should be declared illegal and in bad taste. Cake cut prematurely due to melting and tilting of layers, speeches trumped by the best man, and the bride (a surprise winner in the medal tally). Celebrations by no means end with the departure of the happy couple.

Illustrations:

'Say Yes To Telemarketers' Week

2006-02-15T00:08:00.000-08:00

This is the beginning of a new Hitchick household campaign - as of this week, Dave and I are taking the plunge. It's our new resolution, whenever the phone begins to ring, we are reminded of the plight of a forgotten and forsaken people...

We entreat you to take up the cause also, and commit your own lives, by saying "Yes" to Telemarketers- those poor, downtrodden creatures of the market research underworld, hopeless individuals whose tragic lives have led them to the point of selling their very souls (and their God-given right to never speak to strangers) for a few measly dollars an hour. Consider them, if you have a heart.

Theirs are broken lives. Lives that will now be spent in the often fruitless and depressing pursuit of soliciting random homebodies for a few moments of awkward conversation about eating habits, or laundry powder. Voices that promise enticing rewards from unseen and windowless offices, yet leave their clients feeling invaded, empty, and vaguely ashamed of their foolishness in agreeing to "just a few moments". Voices trained to be polite and understanding (although not necessarily trained to speak English), voices who often seem to be names without faces, but whom, in reality, have homes and pets and struggles just like the rest of us.

Come on, humanity. Restore their faith in us. No more heartless rebuttals, no more harried, desperate excuses. Think of the telemarketer, and say 'yes' today.

Your reward is in heaven (or possibly in a monthly draw).

Another glass of insane, anyone?

2006-02-13T00:29:00.000-08:00

To all of my most esteemed loyal readers - my sincere apologies for the scarcity of updates. I am, in fact, going mad, as some have previously suspected (no, Stuart, I won't mention you by name).

Anyway, the upshot of all this crazy talk is that my school is brainwashing me into the belief that the education of a few socially disfunctional fifteen year olds and a bunch of tweens is my life's calling. So I no longer have a life.

On the plus-side, my girls class (Hitchick's Hip Chicks) is doin' really good. They only leave the room to go to the bathroom an average of four times a lesson now (an improvement on last week). Obviously, starting high-school is very disruptive to the excretory system, as the delicate balance between kidneys, bladder and the brain is upset by demands including "Sit down", "stop talking" and "what is four times eight?", thereby rendering these extra-curricular lavatory trips necessary.

So my class is going to the toilet, and I am going mental :O)

Working working

2006-02-07T00:27:00.000-08:00

Too busy this week! I started my new job as a Year 7 Teacher - wow. It is crazy - I feel like Mummy to twenty-eight little girls! Girls ask millions of questions, they go to the bathroom like, eight times a lesson, and they get upset really easy - like when they can't open their locker :O)

I'm sure I won't run out of things to blog about now! Dave's birthday was yesterday - so of course I bought him a blender at a garage sale. The strange thing is, he really liked it!

Here is the birthday boy himself (second from left, with some kids from school) - looks kinda young for 24 huh?

Norwegian Mamblings

2006-01-30T20:28:00.000-08:00

Dave and I took our Norwegian friends out to my folks' farm at Bathurst on the weekend - it was so much fun!! They loved the farm so much. Of course, this experience prompts me to think about all the little nuiances of tourism, tour-guiding and hosting in general, most of which are directly derived from Murphy's Law.

#1 When spotlighting for Australian fauna to show your excited guests, the kangaroos, goannas, echidnas, wombats and other assorted marsupials which you have previously been tripping over because there's so darn many of them, have all of a sudden vanished into their hidey-holes, leaving your comments such as "Oh, we have millions of kangaroos, they're such a pest" to sound like empty bragging.

#2 The tyre of your vehicle will spectacularly burst, however this will at least provide entertainment for the luckless animal-hunting party.

#3 The less grasp of each other's language you have, the more interesting the tour becomes.

Kristin and Gunnar have put some pictures of their trip onto their blog if you want to see! Bonus captions if you read Norwegish :O) http://www.isydney.blogspot.com

Volcano mamblings

2006-01-18T20:21:00.000-08:00

Volcanoes are the coolest things in the world (or the hottest things depending on how you look at it). I love volcanoes so much that if it was possible to own a volcano, I would buy my own. I chose my university course (BSc Geology) so that I could actually get something in return for all the time I spend reading about and thinking about and dribbling over volcanoes. This is my favourite volcano picture - it's called White Island, and it's in NZ.

If you want to know more about it check out this link for all the juicy gossip ... http://epod.usra.edu/archive/epodviewer.php3?oid=233472

Happy Snapps

2006-01-18T19:26:00.000-08:00

Well I got my surprise :O) Overnight kidnapping to the five-star Swissotel Sydney - very plush, yum yum! dinner at Darling Harbour and a ride on the monorail (which I suspect I find more exciting than is normal for someone my age). I know how envious this makes you all, and will endeavor to spare your feeling by changing the subject now. (You wish YOU went on the monorail, huh?!)

Here are some snaps that you may find moderately amusing, or at least will feel obliged to look at (oh, the joys of a captive audience...)

This is me and my best mate (Hethe) in Hyde Park in Sydney - right before Jazz in the Domain. (Mmmm, Jazz....)

And over here is my Bathurst family (sometime in the winter). They look normal, but I assure you, they're all mad, every last one.

And finally: This is the view out the aeroplane window on the way to Christchurch, NZ. Incidentally, Dave missed the amazing scenery as he was playing with a little puzzle and refused to look up.

Little Mamblings #1

2006-01-17T16:31:00.000-08:00

Today is Dave's and my (third) wedding anniversary. It is also the anniversary of the Granville Train Disaster, and the Canberra Bushfires. Hmmm....

Anyway, there is a SURPRISE. Dave has a surprise, and for once I have not been able to sniff it out, because he's been doing sneaky things with money and accounts and stuff. It's EXCRUCIATING! But I guess only a couple of hours to wait. Meanwhile, I should be doing the housework like a good little wife...

Here is a glimpse of me in my secret identity as a bad cowboy.

The Phantom Poster

2006-01-15T17:54:00.000-08:00

I was just chatting to my dog (the black and white one) and he suggested that I post a blog, seeing as how I haven't done that for a while. And I thought 'Well, what a great idea!'. He's a border collie, they're so smart, border collies. Always coming up with good ideas.

When I asked what I should post he just looked witheringly at me as if to say, 'I'm a dog. I can't talk, you know.' He really has perfected that scornful smirk. It just makes me feel so inferior.

Isabella now has a fully functioning broadband connection, and is humming away happily while I type. (For the uninformed, Isabella is my laptop - younger sister to Watson the Laptop, who is in the terrible twos and has to have serious therapy before ever being of use to the human race again.) Isabella starts school in a week. Like any parent, this concerns me a little. I will let you know how it goes.

The Amazing Human Brain

2005-12-19T02:15:00.000-08:00

I raed smhteniog the ohetr day taht siad taht it dsoent metatr waht oedrr the lttres in a wrod aeappr, as lnog as the frist and lsat lteters are in the crorcet palce, you can sitll mkae snsee of the sntcenee. Czary, huh?

I don't know what use anyone will make of this information, but maybe you could use it to encourage one of your dyslexic friends.

Rounding up the Strays

2005-12-13T15:55:00.000-08:00

I could get used to this - I can talk about whatever I want!

So I spent the morning changing over all my postal addresses with companies and things. Thought that this was an appropriate way to mark having lived in the new house for over a month. You might ask what we have been doing about mail for a month? Ignoring it, mostly. It's kind of nice to not be greeted with an unpaid bill for four weeks, y'all should try it sometime.

Anyway, I had underestimated the mammothness of the task. I've been galloping around like a cowboy on the internet, lassooing phone numbers of people who send us things... all the while knowing that I will never remember everyone who I had thoughtlessly given out my old address to. It got me thinking about paper trails. If every time I move house I forget to change, say, five addresses, then pretty soon I will have left a trail halfway across the country of unopened mail. I hope the people in our second to last house are enjoying my subscription to Readers Digest.

There's alot to be said for microchipping people with barcodes after all. You could just call the barcode people and say "Hey, I moved. Could you let everyone know? Can you send me a pizza at my new address? I'm famished from unpacking. Yeah, just put it on the account. Cheers."

Hmmm...

Bloggo Numero Uno

2005-12-11T21:28:00.000-08:00

Wow.

Can you feel the excitement, people? This is my first ever post on my first ever blog. Uhh, I should make some acknowledgements or something, but that's hard to do with anonymity, so...

Thanks to everyone who took part in my life, ever. Couldn't have done it without you. Wouldn't be blogging if you hadn't driven me to madness.

Sometimes when things are new, we mark them with ceremonies and symbolism. With babies, it's cutting the cord. With ships, it's smashing some champagne on them. Well, I doubt my mother-in-law would be too thrilled if I cut the cord of her laptop, or cracked a bottle over the screen, so we will content ourselves with a short yet formal prayer of dedication, and a round of applause (you supply).

Lord,

Bless this blog.
May friends read it and feel no shame,
may enemies never discover it,
and may strangers become the former, not the latter.
Protect my identity from those predators that would spam me or hack me.
May my life be full of things that interest others.
Grant that I may never lose humour, grace or an internet connection.

Amen