Monday 18th March
We rose Sunday morning and spied a kookaburra in the tree. We watched him for a while. He went down to the ground and grabbed something to eat but we couldn't see what it was.
A solitary king parrot arrived and we had bought some seed, just in case. We put some in the bird feeder and away he went.
Another bloke king parrot might be after his wife's affections.
We are inundated, with about fifteen king parrots.
Then crimson rosellas arrived, to pick up the spillage of seed.
There was great consternation when a squawking flock of sulphur crested cockatoos flew past, with parrots heading in all directions.
K's husband J shaves his head. It was a little painful for him when one landed on his head.
This sign was in the garden. It wasn't until the last day that I realised it did not say Frank Walker.
After all the fun with the parrots, we drove up to Wild Cherry Cottage for our breakfast. One of our hosts made kookaburra calls and these arrived. Patiently they lined up and he spoon fed them some pet mince. There was no squabbling among the crew. They patiently waited for their turn. Once the bowl was emptied, our host showed them all the empty bowl and away they flew.
If you are worried about feeding wild birds, they only do it when they have guests for breakfast and they only come when they are called.
What we looked out upon as we ate our delicious breakfast.
Does a plate of fruit ameliorate a big fry up of thickly sliced bacon, eggs and tomatoes?
Ex Sis in Law had joined us for breakfast, but her husband Lozza did not. However he had promised to show us the sights of the local area in his 4wd. My god, the tracks we went along that couldn't possibly negotiated by a sedan. First stop was Bruntons Bridge, a footbridge across the Thomson River.
A foot bridge is good, but how does the car get across? Lozza showed us. "The problem is that I don't know how deep the water is. It might be quite deep and we could get washed downstream". Lozza took it a fair pace and of course the water wasn't very deep. He enjoyed scaring us for the whole afternoon.
Ohhhh, the Thomson Dam wall. I recall a State Premier from the past saying that this dam would drought proof Melbourne. Well, it did until it nearly ran out of water.
More hairy bush tracks before we reached the dam.
You can see some of the burnt bush from the fires earlier in the year.
Coopers Creek is a delightful little spot but unfortunately favoured by bogan campers who drink and fight at night, to the point where the police are reluctant to attend, especially as there isn't a phone signal. There was a hotel at Coopers Creek, but it has been recently de-licensed.
Back at Ex Sis in Law's place, K&J reacquainted themselves with Non Dreaded Nephew when he knocked off from his job with the DSE.
We left far later than we intended, about 5.30, loaded with Lozza's bakery pies for dinner. We stopped briefly at a service station at Officer South.
Oh, I forgot about the Frenchies staying at Ex Sis in Law's accommodation. We met them twice. They were charming, with heavy accents and the photos we had seen of them did not do them justice. How can they have such style and not be gay? How can track pants sit so perfectly? Mohawks were fashionable when? Perhaps when I had one. But wow did one look so hot.