Rivers bulging at the seams

Queanbeyan River

Scrivener Dam

Scrivener Dam

Scrivener Dam flowing into Molonglo River

Lake Burley Giffin full to the brim on a dreary rainy day,
looking east from Black Mountain Peninsula

Queanbeyan River coming up over our walkway

Queanbeyan River

Queanbeyan River flowing very rapidly

Queanbeyan River, near River Road

Canberra has had a big wet event over the last week and more.  For this last week we did not see sunshine.  Each day was full of rain.  Often it was constant rain, falling steadily as we slept and worked... indoors.  Fortunately we had a couple of days where we didn't have anything we needed to head out for, so we stayed in ~ snuggling together in the cooler rainy weather.  

Today we headed outdoors as a family to explore the unusually flowing water, rising in rivers and spewing over dam walls, and through gates.  It was a bit of a novelty seeing the Scrivener Dam with so much water flowing through and "white-rapiding" down the Molonglo River.  The girls enjoyed hopping out of the car and holding their umbrellas against the wind while watching so much water all around.  Little Eee enjoyed holding my hand to walk along next to the Queanbeyan River, excited that the water was right next to her, unaware of any danger of a flooding river.  She found alternate routes over the grass when we came to places where the water covered the pathway.  We did not wander far - I am not keen on putting my little ones in danger near flooding waterways.  It was exciting though.

Faithful Dogs: The Dog on the Tuckerbox and Ballad of the Drover

Earth's self upholds this monument

To conquerors who won her,

When wooing was dangerous

And now are gathered unto her again.

At the Dog on the Tuckerbox monument in March 2010

We have come across at least two faithful dogs in our readings over this last week.  Both stories have truly tugged at my heartstrings.  I have been left almost in tears due to the poignant writing of each of the storytellers.  This surprises me as I am not a dog lover - anyone who knows me personally will testify to that in full accord.  This trait has unfortunately been passed down to my girls to some extent, although I have tried my hardest not to do this.

My little girls have not ever liked dogs.  We have had some 'less than nice' experiences while walking in our old neighbourhood in Adelaide when big dogs roamed and barked without being on a leash, where little dogs yapped at my baby in the stroller and owners dallied wondering why my little one was not over the moon at their little ones' antics.  This last year it got to a stage where the big girls both screamed when a dog came by.  This became very difficult when we tried to enjoy an outing in public where dogs may be.  It was also difficult when we visited friend's houses - my girls' greatest concern has always been "do they have a dog?"

Last year a fellow home educating mother became aware of my girls "screaming" reaction and took action.  It became a necessity when we were to visit her family home for a filming activity by the group we are part of.  She and I explained to my girls how her puppy may be scared of their reaction, that it was just a toddler and we could pretend to be brave around the little pup.  The idea of imagined bravado and her understanding of my girls scared reaction was the key which turned them around.  By the end of the day my eldest girl was walking this puppy on a leash.  Very proud mummy here!

Now my girls and I are still not dog lovers but we hope to be able to react calmly around them, only showing caution and concern when there are dogs off leads and dogs without owners.

So it is lovely to be able to share with my girls some stories of the wonderful attribute of faithfulness in dogs.  Indeed loyalty to their master is a trait which dogs are renowned for in Australian bush folklore.  Our studies are taking us around Australia through literature this year so perhaps I should not be surprised at all to find stories of faithful dogs surfacing twice in a week.

I have found The Dog on the Tuckerbox, by Corinne Fenton to be a fabulous read.  Lady is the faithful dog who both begins and ends the story sitting on the tuckerbox of her master, Bill.

"Lady sat on the tuckerbox watching her master, Bill.  He packed up his billy and stamped out the campfire.  It was time to get moving."

The story establishes itself very securely in its setting - the Australia of 100-150 years ago.  The language used is clearly Australian without being crass in any way.  There is mention of tucker, billy and the campfire on the first page as well as bullocks, settlers and homesteads soon thereafter.  Lady and Bill share times of great joy and sharing as well as times of great challenge.  One which sees Lady almost at the end of her days, but for the care of Bill provided so lovingly and tenderly.  Finally, in the greatest challenge of them all, we see Lady showing such loyalty to her master as brought shivers to my arms, standing the hairs on end and duly tugging at my heartstrings.

"In 1932 a monument of a dog sitting on a tuckerbox was erected five miles from Gundagai."

The illustrations by Tasmanian artist Peter Gouldthorpe are beautiful and poignantly portray a sense of the love of an Australia now past.  He pays particular attention to detail in each illustration.  I particularly enjoyed the portrayal of an aging Lady throughout the book, as did my eight year old Ess.

We borrowed this book from the library when I heard about the author, Corinne Fenton.  It will be hard to take back and when it is returned perhaps we may need to purchase a copy to hold near to our hearts in our home.

Everyone is familiar with the famous Australian bush poet Henry Lawson (pictured above) and I was excited today to find that the Australian Poem of the Day was his Ballad of the Drover.

This ballad tells the story of a drover who has been out droving for some time in Queensland.  He is on his journey home to meet his beloved.  One can hear the song he is humming and the accompanying jingling and jangling of all his campware, with two horses walking steadily side by side carrying all that is required when one is away from home for an extended period of time.  Here also is his faithful dog who has been with his master day in, day out.  However his afternoon is rather like ours here today: a storm is brewing.  He has a sturdy determination to reach home and pushes his party forward across a flooding river despite the thunder's warning.  Rover, "the best dog on the plain" and one of his "hardy horses" make their way across.  The cattle dog is seen on the river bank with the pack horse, but soon jumps back into the river to the place he last saw his master, such is his faithfulness.  He struggles and fails himself, leaving only the packhorse to return home to convey the sad tale of the drover and his mate.

I use these stories to seek narrations from Ess as part of her home education.  She is a keen and avid reader, her oration skills are still developing so I am happy for these to be oral at this stage.  She will be a wonderful writer in due course as she is exposed to so much fabulous literature.  I recently heard a comment from the Australian author Margo Lanagan referring to immersing ourselves in great literature in order to be a great writer.  I'll hold onto that comment.

Icing Granny's Lamingtons

We did ice these lamingtons just a day or so after we baked the butter cake for them.

I just have not got to blogging about it.  I'm probably spending my time eating them ;)

Creaming the butter

Sifting icing sugar with cocoa

Adding the secret and unique ingredient ;)

Production line in swing with Ess and Eee.  My hand seems to need to be in every bowl :)

This box of prepared lamingtons reminds me very much of the box my Granny would carry out to our picnics.  Beautiful pale, hand-formed lamingtons, coated in chocolate icing, covered with coconut.

The finished cake is a sweet, rich and moist delectable delight which few can resist the lure of.  Very moorish as well unfortunately.

I have to say that these lamingtons were definitely given the thumbs up.  The girls have been telling me lately that my food should be "sold in a shop".  I think I'd prefer to cook less and eat more than anyone running a shop, and stay home with my family.  Ess is letting me know as I write that "they are certainly fit to be restaurant desserts".  I'll take that as a very high compliment.  Really I am just glad to be creating fond memories for them which they'll cherish for their lifetime.

By Broulee Beach

We spent the day by Broulee Beach yesterday,

soaking in the sand and the sun,  

sights and sounds, 

the colours and textures.

There were sand pies to be mixed, 

time for solitary exploration 

sandcastles bedecked with star-shaped shells

rock pools to paddle and wade in

fish to attempt to catch in our bucket

sand angels to make

and vistas to enjoy

Lamingtons: Butter or Sponge?

Fresh Butter Cake squares waiting to be made into lamingtons,
 if they aren't consumed first.

There are some times when you just wish you still had your Granny around to ask a few questions.

Do you find that?  As I'm getting older and have a more mature perspective of the world, shall we say, I find myself wanting to ask my Granny a few more questions than I had thought to before she died when I was about 20.

Creaming the butter

When growing up I took for granted the fabulous lamingtons my Granny made for the family to share on picnics out on the farm.  I just devoured them.  We all did.  They were fabulous.

Little Eee loving helping with creaming the butter and sugar 

As I grew older I realised there were other sorts of lamingtons you could buy from bakeries and also supermarkets.  I never really took to those at all.  I have however come across a few and eaten a few as they are a favourite sweet of my dear Generous Gentleman's.  They always left a metallic taste in my mouth, and still do.

Ess helping sift flour into our bowl

So when the opportunity arose to take the family to the Great National Lamington Bake Off in order to celebrate Australia Day we all jumped at the chance.  I was curious to see what it was all about and how a chef might interpret the lamington these days.  My girls love baking (and tasting of course) and my lovely husband just loves eating lamingtons.  So it was a match made perfectly.

Fresh golden butter cake with the recipe I transcribed
at the age of about 10 years

When it was discovered that two out of the three chefs were baking a sponge cake for their lamington a question arose concerning the original and authentic lamington.  Would it have also been a sponge cake or would it have been a butter cake?  Granny always made a butter cake for her lamingtons and I have assumed that the spongey light and fluffy cake was made by the bakeries and supermarkets.  However it seems that some others consider the sponge base is a more authentic lamington.  Or perhaps they prefer the light and fluffy sponge cake?  It seems that the CWA baked a butter cake for their lamingtons as well.  I am yet to find an example of the sponge cake being used for lamingtons by the older generation, apart from mass production for school fetes and the like.  What is your preference?  

For the results of the bake-off take a read of the Canberra Times article.

Waiting for icing and coconut

Now I'm on a mission to bake lamingtons with my family in the fashion of my Granny's, to share with them the tradition I hold such fond and vivid memories of.  I'll ask them which cake they choose as their cake of preference: butter or sponge?  I already know my choice.

This Time Last Year 2

This time last year we were actually staying in a house, relieved from small expensive apartment accommodation for two weeks.

We were house-sitting for a couple who were visiting Russia in order to help build a kitchen and follow God's lead to share their lives with the people over there.  In being a blessing to those people, they were also truly blessing us.  At a time when we were very stressed about the cost of accommodation in Canberra, before we had even left Adelaide, we were offered this house to sit for a couple of weeks.  We saw it as a gift in a financially challenging time. Yet this contact has proved to be pertinent throughout the year.  You see, at just the right time, the owner of this home would pop in to see us or he would make a phone call to see how things were going for us.  He would speak words God had laid on his heart and we knew they were meant for us.  In hindsight it is very easy to see how our journey was known by God before it commenced.  In hindsight it is very clear that we were held in the palm of God's hands right from the very start.

This time last year we had actually found a house we believed we could call our home.  We had travelled the various areas of Canberra searching houses with a budget in mind.  This house was seemingly the best house for the price.  Later it would become clear there was a reason for this.  It was a new house, almost complete.  We put an offer on it which was quickly accepted.

A year ago yesterday I made an inspection with my unenthusiastic girls and three-month old baby in tow and noticed that a fence was being erected, and not quite in accordance with the way the real estate agent had told us it would be built.  It was much shorter, not fencing off the outdoor living area, making a very tiny yard space.  In hindsight perhaps we should have tossed it all in at this point.  However we had no reason not to believe that we could extend the fence ourselves, placing a fence in the position we chose, to create more yard and some privacy for our outdoor living.

This fence would prove to be both our nemesis and our escape route in weeks and months to come.

New Year Seeds are Sprouting and Shooting

On New Year's Day my girls and I planted seeds in our new garden.

You can see their homes on the right in the picture above, a little sheltered spot by the Meyer Lemon we believe, planted here by the previous owners.

I just love the way Ess made labels from shells we have collected over the years.

These flower seeds came from a packet named "Rockery Mix".

Lots of alyssum will shoot I suspect.

On 7 January we saw, with great excitement in my little girls, that the seeds were sprouting

Some were clearly enjoying their new home and sprouting forth all their pretty two-leaved goodness.

Then ten days later on 17 January we find that the plants are really shooting up.  Soon the girls should have real flowers to plant around their little cubby house to enjoy before the frosts come again.

Or maybe they'll be big enough to survive some icyness.  I am still learning about gardening in Canberra where there are frosts from Easter to Melbourne Cup Day (first Tues in November).  The weather is amazing here.  This time last week it was 1.6 degC before dawn (a new record).  There was even some snow in the mountains.  It is summer for heavens sake.  Today it is hot again and we enjoyed an afternoon swim in the local pool.

At this stage also, it appears I have some competition - the lettuce has all been eaten.  Pesky snails I'm assuming.

A fitting way to commence the year in our new home don't you think.  Planting seeds, being thrilled and excited as we nurture and care for them and see them sprout and grow.  And all of this happening in our newly purchased own home.  I do love a bit of symbolism.