Five Photos on a Friday

 This post carries my usual #notaphotographer disclaimer.

I have actually managed to work River's Words for Wednesday in to the below.

Image: Attention! Eight Upright Cranes Against the Brisbane Skyline 

Isn't it funny what you find when you randomly hit upon photographic memories of the past? This is from a few years ago now. I remember being bemused by Brisbane's constant reimagining of herself and fluffing up her property like peacock plumes.

Image: A Very Well-Watered Gauge

My whole family have always measured the rain - actually no, I lie. There was a time when living interstate or in Brisbane that I didn't, however I now have a good few years of data here and I could never envisage not doing so. 

My Grandma M used to measure with a jam tin and ruler, which helped me to understand and really visualise why rain is measured in millimetres (or inches) rather than millilitres (or pints). 

It doesn't matter whether you use barrels, barrows or buckets, it's the depth of water collected that is measured.

Image: Buy Yourself A Yankee Dude'l Life

This was a genuine van saleyard in a genuine US city under a genuine United States of America flag and I knew that I was not in Queensland any more. Far more likely to spot a coyote than a dingo in downtown Diego.

Image: Holding Still For the Photographer (2x Great Grandmother Jane Gibson Burnham 1880's ish?)

I can't believe that I haven't written the tale of this woman here before. 

I had always imagined Jane to be a lone figure with scant information in family folklore, this mother of stoic but silent sons. Honestly, I knew nothing of this woman until by chance I discovered descendants of her sisters.

An orphaned spinster of 26 who brought the balance of her teenage siblings to Australia from the terrible times for all, including the Anglo Irish in the North of Ireland in the mid 19th century.  She could read and write and had special skills as a laundress.

The family whose history had been lost in migration to the emerald isle a century or two before reinvented themselves anew down under.

Doesn't she look formidable?

Image: Roo Butt on High Beam

It's currently raining here. They are predicting possible bucket loads across the weekend. Definitely enough to deter any thoughts of mowing. Luckily there are a few of these about to keep the front looking neat.

Such weather will also bring out the instant idiots, no doubt. Those lights may have belonged to one of such a tribe, checking the water levels and gauging the lie of the land.

Instant idiots because you only need to "just add water" and its like magic.

Put a vehicle between a mud and this particular chemical reaction and watch with your heart in your mouth as thought and reason sit on the sidelines and dispair.

Red Moon at Night

 There was a Red Moon tonight over Paradise.

Of course I didn't take a picture. 

A. I have always had dodgy eyesight, so it was enough to attempt to see something, let alone capture it in a meaningful way to make it recognisable in the future. My clay is words. My sense is ears.

B. I have been surrounded by visual people who delight in the art of photography. There is no need for me to swell their ranks.

You will just have to imagine the tiny porch on the top of the stairs, wind howling, Paris beside you and a starry sky to the South Eastish direction.

It is hard to tell if the misty blur across the bottom third of the moon were cloud, eclipse or the natural sheen of distance.

The sky behind is reflecting the lights around - tiny bulbs spray the wall of a neighbour and the street lights near the intersection.

Night birds know there is something up and are voicing the rejoicing of the dark red hue anticipated.

Image - not a picture of the scene described above, rather a very uncurated look for the sunroom - its natural state for the majority of the nearly two decades we have lived here

Edit - oh, and Eddie. RIP beautiful boy

Oh, and if you zoom in to the second window, there are two beautiful creatures and their humans 

The Sun Room

 

Image: Sunset in Paradise 

As GZ often laments, Blogger has a habit of reversing your pictures (probably inherited from Word - an obscure admin geek joke - never mind) - I'll just have to work with what I've got.

Image: Rain Scene in Paradise 

For nearly 20 years I have paced this Sun Room, posing theories, created poetry and watched the world.

Image: Kangaroos Grazing in Paradise 

I have seen through it in love, in baby haze, in disasters, in the pandemic.

Image: Just One of Those Days in Paradise

In an earlier lifetime, it was the windswept open deck of what my father called The Retreat.

Image: Void Kitten in Paradise 

We have watched little ones grow out to almost full-size

Image: Red Sky in Paradise 

There have been times that I have been lost for words,

Image: Sunset Streaking Across the Sky in Paradise 

sometimes too many words that couldn't quite grasp,

Image: Kangaroos Enjoying the Afternoon in Paradise

And sometimes just too lifed out to pay enough attention.

Image: One Bombproof (but unfortunately not ant-proof) Mailbox in Paradise 

But this lofty view on life has a timeframe.

Image: Clouds Over Ocean in Paradise 

All sorts of dates happen in the next 10 days and the next few weeks and months.

Image: Dusk in Paradise 

Sunday selections

River is my main connection to Sunday selections - as usual very ordinary pics with a waffle of words on offer here.

Picture of a piece of timber at my parents place with many extended family brands - Dad is third generation Australian and basically over 90% of his heritage is agriculture and livestock.

I did a search but apparently I have only done one real branding post (way back in May 2007) - and earlier in the week Ms Moon confounded me by having to Google what Marks and Brands were.

Isn't it weird, what one person grows up knowing innately and other never encounter?

We were in the saddle before we could ride bikes, learned how to drive before we hit high school and got paid in child labour by getting a calf branded for us each season.

I always chose the prettiest one for mine. We were only ever allowed to choose steers and only from commercial paddocks but that was preferred anyway as they were often the prettiest in my eyes - brindle or spotted with a twinkle of non-conformity in their eyes.

Image of a magnificent silver-leafed Ironbark (I think) on a Queensland country road

I have just come back from a trip out to visit Mum and Dad - 'Salina was with me. We always drive past this tree and made the decision to stop on our way home today. This isn't even her best angle but it was raining and the side of the road not conducive to more than a cursory click. That and the rather ordinary photographer on this side of the phone.

Image of proteas from a friend's garden delivered for Mum while I was there 

Yes- even though I am not the level of nearly blind that I was using as an excuse prior to cataract surgery, my skills as a photographer didn't get any better!

Poetry society

It was wear a jersey to work today (to support your favourite team #) but I forgot. When reminded I explained that I would be wearing what I had on to poetry tonight which is sort of a sport, isn't it?

The first poet's night of the year was held this evening.

'Salina and I attended.

The regular hostess is taking a few months off because baby (π) so instead we had the awesome pairing of compere J---y and softly spoken Z.

First was the lady from the potter's guild with an invitation to offer artistic inspiration

Then G with an apologetic recitation of witty brilliance aired before. (§)

Y had found a very gentle and calming recitation she sourced from a play.

K spoke of death and the beauty surrounding it.

(¥)

I can't remember if next but a first time reader was in the next few and oh, a funny and punchy poem regarding NDIS.

(∆)

Oh that's right, the amazing and brilliant T was next with her Mistake poem, and it was a ripsnorter. We all went on her journey and recognised the landmarks.

R in his beaten up hat was in there too with a charming poem about a housemaid and a jackeroo, a fishing yarn and a bikini.

I had edited a version of Morass Mess and a very old poem of mine (about 1993) Lament for Lost Chance at the Last One Night Stand.

I must do that one for you one day.

I can't remember the order of the ones after - I think j did one about yoga - a very funny rhyme - and a beautiful one in honour of her Mum, passed on 31 years ago this month.

D did a marvellous Cat poem. There was also a God one not sure if in this set or next.

D (D's partner) had us up a mountain.

We went on a nostalgic trip to grandparents during summer as well.

I am not sure if that is all before the break.

After the break was a few new performers and a few of the first round also had another turn.

New girl with another brilliant poem about recovery, U had a couple of turns with soft lilting charms, J honoured Banjo Paterson's A Bush Christening (~) - and a T recited the words for Five Years by David Bowie (+)

I got to finish the night so I did a new one - Sounds a Bit Like a Country Song - and a relatively old one - Bottling Kisses (%)

Footnotes

¥ Yes, it got a little heavy

∆ One thing about a room full of poets is odds on the majority of us got our social skills from the back of a cereal packet if we were lucky and had the 3.95 postage and handling.

That and working in finance. Or with computers.

Anyhow. That's an aside. (Or rather, a footnote)

% I went to see where I need to link so you can see Bottling Kisses but you can't because apparently I have never shared it before.

$ We might have bought the citrus house 

# as this weekend is opening in Vegas for the NRL - N at work is a bleeds maroon Broncos supporter

π I get it - although sometimes it takes nearly two decades

§ Nobody should ever apologise for working on your favourites. Seeing performers get into their work is part of the process of poetry for me

~ A favourite of Dad's to recite.

+ When I mentioned that to V he knew the song immediately and stayed while I looked it up for the link