The Akubra

I want to buy an Akubra.

There's something about an Akubra hat. They are distinctly Australian in many respects. In fact, they have (as I learned upon investigation) been associated with Australia since they were first made in 1905. Akubra is an Aboriginal word meaning ‘head covering’. Therefore,

Back in my city days, you would have been hard pressed ever spotting me in any head covering at all. It just didn't 'gel' with my city persona. Very sad given my skin quality and the climate we find ourselves in, in Australia. Country people just seem to 'get' that in order to survive the extreme temperatures the sun can deliver out in these parts, you need to dress appropriately.

 Although worn in many outback areas of Australia, they are increasingly seen on the heads of people from all walks of life.

City girls.

Perfect for hiding a receding hairline.

Even Oprah had one on in her visit to Australia! You can google the image, but I had to remove it from my blog after the media company who took the photo asked me to remove it for 'out of licence use'!!! (I find it amusing they think my little blog is significant enough to warrant an image removal. I will name and shame them later :) )

The hats, which are made of treated rabbit fur, have been worn by Australian soldiers, political leaders and sportspeople. And by farmers. And farmers wives. And by farm kids too.

Years and years ago, CP told me that you can't trust a man in black Akubra hat.

Hmmmmm.... Sorry Lee!

And what about this well known black Akubra? Would you trust this man?

Or maybe CP just said that because he prefers the lighter coloured Akubra?! I have to admit that I haven't really paid that much attention to detail. Maybe someone can enlighten me on the subject?

My kids will be getting their first Akubras by the end of this year. I even bought one for the last nanny we had (as a going away present). I am truly fascinated by them.

 Interestingly, as much as I love them, I don't own one myself. I am almost at the stage where I really should buy one (having lived out here in the bush for over 10 years now). But I am more into hats of this persuasion...

Bright, sunny, pool side accompaniments. :)

I am currently in the business of buying a wardrobe that would befit an Akubra hat. Blue work shirt: check. RM Williams boots: check. The hat will be next. I promise. Even though I said all those years and years ago that it would never, ever, ever happen! Life is funny like that.

PS: Any recommendations or advise about buying my first Akubra?

Is It Hot Enough For Ya?

It's Australia Day, and Mother Nature is slapping us in the face, with the best reminder possible that we live in this vast land down under, by hitting us with a whopping 40c+ day today. 10 minutes ago (at 7pm) I went outside and checked our thermometer, and it was still 38 degrees Celsius. Mother Nature likes to remind us who is the boss occasionally. And especially this January.

CP and I have just taken the kids out for a swim in our 'pool'. This is our pool.

If it looks like a gravel pit, that's because it is a gravel pit. It's not too bad actually. It's semi-clear (not so much now that we have been swimming in it). It's a fantastic temperature. And since it was originally used solely as a pit where gravel was extracted, the bottom of it (gravel) is significantly more 'safe' to me than a dam. Generally speaking, I like my 'pool gravel' to be cemented together, and the water to be filtered. But beggars can't be choosers. Especially when Mother Nature throws a curve ball at you like she did today.

Pools are an aspect of our lives that CP and I differ greatly on. I am a firm believer in putting one in now, so that we can gain maximum usage out of it now, while the kids are little. I think this comes from having grown up with a pool. CP on the other hand is not a pool fan. He calls them mosquito breeders. He sees dollar signs, time being eaten up, and more jobs for him (and he is probably right), but I still see far more positives. CP could happily spend the rest of his life not ever stepping foot in water other than to bathe. I just can't fathom that...

This is CP doing his best David Hasselhof impersonation. There's no reason for putting it on here, except that it makes me smile.

The real irony of today's heat wave, is that we are in the midst of the worst flood in recorded history (for this district anyway). We are literally cut off from any of the three surrounding towns, by water so deep that it is not safe to drive a 4 wheel drive through. It is slow moving water, and because the rivers around us have been taking it in turns with their peaks and drops, this has left us isolated for almost four weeks, with another three to go. At least. There has been the odd day where we've made a break when the water is low enough to restock our supplies, but for the most part we have been stuck.

This is actually taken in last year's flood. But there is water (exactly the same) there again. This also isn't us driving. We aren't crazy enough to do that, but this pic shows the kind of water cutting us off. The water is deep like this for kilometres.

The crazy thing about this flood is that it's almost drought weather. One of my friends laughed about how she was watering her garden using the flood water that was metres from her back fence, because it was so dry wherever the water hadn't reached. If that isn't irony, I don't know what is. This is what happens when you don't get the rain that causes a flood, but rather, you get the floodwaters that start up north and meander down a river system that will ultimately affect you. Slow moving water. And it's just that.
Sss... llllll..................ooooooowwwwwww.......

So here I am, in the air conditioned comfort of my bedroom. I'm lamenting the death of my lounge room air conditioner.And how it will be weeks before anyone will be able to make it to our house to fix it. Thank goodness we had the common sense to put air conditioning in every room. I'm sure that many hardened country locals would think I am 'soft'. I like to think I am a true believer in putting modern technology to use. It's there. I use it. Easy. I'm not going to sit around talking about 'the old days' when it's currently 'the new days'... I am thinking about how grateful I am not to have my butt sticking to the leather of a chair and giving me third degree burns. Or how lovely it is in my room not breathing in that THICK hot air that clogs your throat. You can only imagine how horrid it feels if you have experienced it first hand. Or if you've ever stepped off a plane from Europe in the winter, into an Australian summer. It's like a big hot smack to the head.

It's hot, dry, and if I didn't know better, only a few months away from even more droughty weather. You'd never know it flying overhead though. A massive sea of inland water.

I guess if you choose to live out here, it's part of the package. I don't mind it so much anymore. As long as my survival technology keeps working. (Ie: fridges, air con and internet). And actually, with the exception of yesterday and today, Mother Nature has been considerably kind with the summer temperatures. We have had a glorious summer. If you don't count all the flood water. But nothing like Mother Nature to bring everything home and remind you of how tiny you are in the grand scheme of things.

Here's to fantastic weather for the rest of 2011. Whatever that may be...

When it rains...

If you live on the east coast of Australia (or in the tropics, or in fact any place where rain is commonplace) this means bugger all. Firstly, you probably don't even know what an inch is (especially if you are under 50 years of age), or you don't care what an inch is. But essentially, an inch means you hear the gentle pitter patter of rain on your roof for a period of minutes. 

If you live where I live, an inch means something else entirely. An inch (or 100 points, or 25 ml) means our tanks and dams get a little fuller, our stock get a little more feed, and our crops get a little much needed watering. An inch also means that if the dirt road into town (all 20km of it to the bitumen) has been recently graded, there is every chance I will need to put the car into 4WD. And compacting this, is the unwritten rule of the bush that you can't complain about rain under any circumstances. Rain is good. Even when it's flooding. And an inch is perfect. Despite any inconvenience that it has caused me personally.

I'm not really complaining. (Oh, who am I kidding? Yes I am.) Friends of mine can't even leave their property with an inch of rain. So I consider myself lucky. But I am a city girl at heart, and the mere thought of engaging in any 4WD activity is enough to put a thin layer of sweat on my brow. 

When I was a kid, my Dad was a member of a 4WD club. This seems to give my husband endless hours of pleasure, imagining me and my siblings strapped into the back of a 4WD, high tailing it to some private property; unwilling recipients in my father's quest for excitement. It was actually fun, I think. But now that I am all grown up, it's very different.

When hubby and I first purchased our first 4WD (a Nissan Patrol wagon- or a big white car for the uninitiated) I've got to admit, I was kind of pumped. I thought it was a bit like a status symbol. Silly me. What I quickly realised is that if you live out in the sticks and you don't own a ridiculously over-sized vehicle (which is inconvenient in the city to say the least), you will spend a fortune on tyres, and never be able to leave your property with even a whiff of rain. So really, to live out here, you need a big car. And that's all well and good until you need the big car. Like today.

Hubby would be rolling his eyes and snickering at my apparent ineptness in the world of driving in the wet. And I consider myself a good driver too. (I should be, my father is a driving instructor. But as it has been pointed out to me before, if my father is a doctor, it doesn't automatically make me a good doctor too.) In fact, hubby probably could have handled the road today without the use of 4WD. But not me. My legs start that uncontrollable "knock knocking", my knuckles turn white,and my brow creases for the duration of the trip. I don't breath properly, and the mere whisper from a passenger is enough to send me off the deep end. 

But we made it. Easily. I know some of you reading this actually might even get off on 4WD-ing, but it's not my thing. Not with 3 children in the back. And not even on my own. And even though I am very grateful for the rain, I prefer it on days when I am staying home.

Last night we had just under an inch and a half of rain. But what does that mean?