|The waterfall that forms at the|
bottom of our property when it
rains was in full flow this week.
It’s a late Blog this week because we’ve been battling the weather. Horribly, horribly hot has been replaced with horribly, horribly wet. And in the mountain stronghold we copped a battering in the extremely high winds from ex-cyclone Oswald. So that was an ex-cyclone? We still got battered, though. And a massive amount of water came off the mountain, causing considerable flooding in the valley below. Sorry about that, benthics!
Anyway, we paid a lot of money to have the house, carport and garage cyclone-rated so we figured we’d see if we got our money’s worth. We did, with nothing at all happening at the house. The driveway faired less well, however, with a couple of reasonably large landslides, one of which we cleared ourselves but the other will need some gabion baskets installed to prevent further slides. We do enjoy living on a big property, but when things go wrong big solutions are necessary.
|It seemed that water-based pictures|
were appropriate to feature this
week. This is new on the website.
But other than the bucketing rain, floods, landslides and that-might-have-only-been-an-ex-cyclone-but-boy-that-was-a-lot-of-wind, we’ve had lots of people visiting us in the shop, so sales have been excellent. So this week, other than land care we’ve done little beyond getting new stock out and ready for the shop. Except for a nice walk on Noosa beach followed by a very good breakfast at Noosa Wharf one morning, and a really very nice lunch at a restaurant on Noosa River another day. And some socialising with friends on other days. And ignoring it all to chill and watch a bit of tennis. But other than that, it’s been nothing but being slaves to work.
|The bronze panther on the French Art Deco|
lamp that's staying at our place.
We’re down to three electric lamps, which is an issue because we use them to light up the shop at night. I positively can’t persuade Doug to part with the very cool Italian Faro lamp we bought on the last buying trip – not that I blame him, and I refuse to part with the French Art Deco bronze panther lamp from the trip before last. So we only have ourselves to blame if we refuse to put stock into the shop. But I have a vague recollection of some lamps in the garage awaiting rewiring, so we’ll have to go hunting soon.
|Another water-borne bimbo, |
new on the website.
|This shot of Caleb is courtesy of a lovely visitor |
to our shop - Fiona. Doug calls it
I'm waiting mouses, I'm waiting.
It’s been just the spotty cats in the shop this week, Caleb so he can continue his lessons in manners and Calypso because she’s a good gel who snuggles on my lap and lets me get on with paperwork. Caleb has meltdown tantrums when I don’t let him go outside to play in the rain – Bengals surely do love water – but when we’re in the shop Not A Paw Past The Door is absolutely non-negotiable Rule No. 1.
|Klaatu can also do an intimidate-the-|
So on Thursday he squawked and yowled and screeched his lungs out because he wanted to go outside and play in the downpour, but Ms Meanie said no. Visitors were dead impressed at the noise one little cat could generate, but I’ve heard it all before and took the opportunity to reinforce Rule No. 2 – Resistance is Futile. That one is taking a while to be accepted, but we’re getting there. Caleb is holding out on the Do-as-you’re-told front for longer than any other cat we’ve ever owned, but we knew he was a strong personality when we selected him – even at two weeks old that was bleedin’ obvious, so we can’t complain that we got what we asked for.
|Another water image, but not a |
bosom in sight. English antique
chromolithograph of a Water Lily,
new on the website.
On Friday morning Caleb expected to come back to bed after rolling around on the verandah in the pouring rain, and was very indignant when he was instantly ejected from the bed. He was sodden, but determined to dry off next to me. But after being fended off with my foot and then physically chucked off the bed when he evaded the foot, he went away and dried himself and re-presented as a clean and dry little pussycat, who was then judged suitable for a cuddle.
Calypso and I were soaked on the way into work, but one of us was able to lick herself dry while sitting in the front window of the shop (hint, it wasn’t me). So she looked all sleek and dry while I looked all frizzy and bedraggled. Hardly seems fair, but I’m not tempted to lick myself dry in the front window. Might increase visitor numbers, though. Or not.
|Artemis riding out the not-a-cyclone.|