Stella in grey cable knit

Those of you who know me will appreciate that I have felt keenly the absence of a dog in my life. However this is not the time for another and so I resort to borrowing the neighbours' dogs to take for walks and patting some I find out and about.

Just this weekend though I had an additional joy. Stella came to stay for one night as her humans were heading off to a party. She came with her bed and blanket and her pyjamas. I kid you not. Her bowl and her dinner and breakfast, all prepared. So I was left with the easy part of remembering what it was like to have a dog in the house. Well it brought me right back to the ground. They remind you that life is not about you - but mostly about them- somehow they are experts at getting us to care enormously about their welfare and their comfort, hence the jammies and the treats and I am sure much else besides. She jumped onto my bed and I found myself reliving the moments when my much larger dog Tara would do the same, and so as not to disturb this blissfully snoring dog I end up on the edge of the bed, practically falling out of it. 

They are there to remind us of what a "no agendas" in life is all about. Yes, no hidden aims, no point scoring, just simple true companionship and love- of the very best kind. Pure and simple and without criticism or fanfare, one that celebrates you just the way you are. I guess we celebrate them back and that is where the grounding comes in. As we set off it is no longer about just me and my petty problems. We make time for taking this all important walk, heading out into the sunshine with them, letting loose in both our body and our thoughts, but knowing we are never alone in that time.We both come back the stronger and the happier for it. We both will eat our dinners with relish!

We had fun and I tried to be a good human -they are good to us so why shouldn't we be ? Their ability to kick start our caring quotient is unparalleled. If they could write this up as a some kind of a business model for the 21st Century they would be laughing all the way to the pet food store.

Robbed I was ...

Yes, I was talking about sharing  in my previous blog and how important it is to make sure there is enough to go round for everyone but in this case I am feeling robbed everyone, robbed.
A couple of months back I walked into my back garden and proudly took a picture of my first bunch of bananas. Here it is in all its glory.

I went to Europe and came back and eagerly skipped down to check the bunch and whether they were ripe enough to cut and this is what I found:

If you look carefully at the top is one small banana still hanging in there - but where are the rest ?? I was devastated that none were left for me and my mind goes to the possums and the bats feasting furiously in my absence. I picked my one and only green banana and kept it lovingly in the fruit bowl till today. It has ripened and was right for eating and I have never tasted a more delicious, sweet but firm finger banana. Oh the pain, the pain. It was over in two mouthfuls but I must not grumble, I must not grumble. Sharing as one little Ozzie boy said ( he must have been all of four) is caring! 

BAT ART- Orange is the New Black

I was walking in the garden, looking at the expertly peeled mandarin skins lying on the ground and then the black marks by the pool. Then I laughed heartily all by myself - first signs of madness perhaps-or profound jet lag- it struck me that this was the bats' version of Orange is the new Black. The bats, or flying foxes as they are called are currently having their very own Mandarin Festival where they gorge on the fruit from our tree at night and then poop on the tiles. Here was one upside down fella who opened his eyes just as I took the photo. 

It made me think of an art work in Ralph's Garage by Richard Bell that I had recently seen going on a guided ART walk in West End. The artist's work introduced thoughts about indigenous people, dispossession, humans and animals and the pressures on the land. All we can do is share. That is only fair.  Bats enjoy mandarins as much as I do. At times, you surprise even yourself at what things "poop" into your head.

Cyprus' Destiny and those weird working dinners.

The importance of this moment for Cyprus cannot be underestimated. Finally after stops and starts  from last year, there is a Conference taking place in Crans Montana, in Switzerland in which Greece, Turkey and the UK are alongside the Greek and Turkish Cypriot negotiating teams trying to solve an intractable problem that has lasted for more than 43 years. As a Cypriot I know that so many people are hanging on every press conference, reportage and event that takes place. The proposals put forward by Turkey, the disappointment expressed by President Anastasiades on important issues concerning guarantees and security, the appearance or not of Junker who is busy elsewhere, and the injection of energy and freshness that Antonio Guterres, please call me Antonio, has added to the mix. 

My question is naive in as much as it is genuine. There are working lunches and dinners, there are short meetings, Boris was there for the opening dinner, then replaced by someone else from the foreign office.  Junker said he was busy but could pop in. Kotzias likes being there and presumably also enjoys the food. I simply cannot see how any work is done, how any progress can be made in these half hearted working bouffes. How can you achieve anything constructive slurping your soup or eating your brioche, how can you have notes of relevance and points of agreement there tucked underneath your napkin. How can you agree or disagree anything critical sipping on wine other than that is a vintage year? So far we have had all too many of these events and then ANOTHER committee formed to look at how settlement will unfold. My wicked temptation would be to say no one eats until the deal is done - and then lets see how fast they would get to a thoroughly digestible outcome.

Welsh Hairbit.

FACT: You need a mortgage to visit Hairdressers in Australia.
FICTION: You often, but mistakenly, believe that the money is well spent.

FACT: You go expecting to look better on exiting, albeit poorer.
FICTION: They don't really care how you look - but often, it is not better.

FACT: Most hairdressing salons are a sanctuary for young people on Work/Study visas in OZ.
FICTION: Some hairdressing salons would like you to believe they are a "cut above the rest", hence the prices they charge. Pun intended.

FACT: In four years of living here I have tried a fair few hairdressers.
FICTION: They each profess to be the ONE. Mainly they are just rubbish.

FACT: I havent found one yet ...until yesterday when I met Nathan.

We started chatting, because that is what you do, but in this case I was intrigued to hear about this Young Welshman and his beautiful tattooed arm. What was more intriguing is the reason why young people do it - the adrenalin rush he suggests, and also his need to be creative, but not in a pen and paper way, so his body art is a way to express that creative spirit. The most shocking revelation is how much it costs -a few hairdressing visits for sure- and finally the spiritual significance of some of the tattoos. It wasn't until he came to Australia that he discovered the band on his arm was Maori and further up his arm was a  tattoo special to Islanders. He was warned they might take offence - something akin perhaps to cultural appropriation- but in fact all the islanders he met were very friendly and OK with his "tats" as they are commonly referred to here.

That was the chat - measured and just what you want - interesting and informative.

I told him what I wanted done to my hair and he LISTENED and did exactly what I wanted.

His shampoo and head massage was so relaxing I could have fallen asleep.

He took care and time in getting it right and it was a pleasure to walk out with bobbing hair.

Trouble is he has missed home and will be gone by the time I return, if I do, for the next appointment. It was a lovely morning Nathan, thanks for looking after me so well - all the best for your future- keep being restless and curious.

Captivating currents and coasts. Kangaroo Island.

They say it is the Australian Galapagos and the seals are certainly part of it. Soon the whales will be swimming by. The koalas balance on the flimsiest of branches, the birds make small fleeting appearances but for me it is the coastline that is the draw card. Beaches of such wild beauty and emptiness. Sand which makes the sea turn green, waves that have such surge in them that they mount the rocks and form inland rivers, rainbows appearing in the crack of grey to signify better weather is on its way. Headlands which catch your breath at formations wind and sea have created. The ruggedness of rocks, remarkable, or not, which sculpt the water's edge. Here is some of the beauty we saw.

Remarkable Rocks

Literally named so - there is no messing here - what you see is what they are called and they ARE remarkable.

They are situated on a rounded lava rock perched some 200 feet above the ocean. A collection of extraordinary, indeed remarkable granite boulders eroded by wind and sea over a mere 500 million years. The orange lichen, which is as vibrant as the pictures is slowly eating up the rocks as it produces an acid which breaks the rock down into soil. Even so, I would n't worry about missing them. They seem vast, artistic and windswept and they are well worth exploring. There are no boundaries other than that of the roaring waves crashing against the rock, so this is one place to watch  you don't step back too far to take the selfie.