Hello Possums!

I was heading out the door on my way to work yesterday when I spotted something up in the tree near our mailbox: my possum friend! I’ve previously seen him very casually strolling down the sidewalk in the middle of the day (possums are nocturnal, so I’m not really sure what’s going on there) and this time he was harassing the magpies who live in this tree. I’m pretty sure he has moved into the roof of my apartment building and comes out whenever he wants to forage for food that people leave behind. Lucky for me I’m on the ground floor so I don’t hear him scratching around up there, but if it really bothered me I could actually hire a trap from the city council and lure him in with apples. The only problem is you have to release them within 50 meters of where you caught them, and this guy seems to know his way around the neighborhood really well.

I used to always see possums dead on the road when I was teaching in North Bend, but those looked like giant rats – the ones here are adorable! I’m glad Australia has some cute animals to balance out all the cockroaches and huntsman spiders and sharks.

USA vs. Australia

Against all odds, the USA team made it to the quarter-finals of the Rugby League World Cup, where they faced off against the Australian team last Saturday at midnight. I stayed reaaaaaaaal quiet about this one, but remained cautiously hopeful in the days leading up to the game. I didn't even stay up to watch it, and I'm really glad I didn't because Australia (the Kangaroos) handed the United States (the Tomahawks) a 62-0 loss. On the plus side, a few of the American players may have impressed the Aussies enough to parlay their performance into a contract with some of the clubs down here.

A photo of the American fans from The Daily Telegraph.

Cicada Song

Now that the weather is getting hot the cicadas are making their way out of their underground burrows where they have spent the last couple of years as babies. Once they come up to the surface they molt, leaving behind creepy shells that I find in the shrubs outside of my apartment. They make a really powerful chirping sound, and somehow they know to all start up at exactly the same time to the point where it’s almost deafening to be outside. I kind of enjoy the sound, and they usually don’t keep it up for too long.  While I was reading out on the patio a bird chased one onto the brick, and kept swooping down at it from the trees. Cicadas are about the size of your thumb, and after a while this bird decided that he was a bit outmatched. The poor cicada stayed there motionless for probably an hour before deciding it was safe to fly off.

This morning as I left for the gym, I heard a really strange croaking noise, similar to a frog but not quite. I didn’t know what to make of it until I looked up and saw a magpie tearing into his breakfast; this particular cicada wasn’t as lucky. I’m probably being overly sensitive (do cicadas even feel pain?) but the sound really bothered me. Where were all his cicada buddies that were singing with him the other night, and couldn’t they have just swarmed that dumb magpie?

BRCA2

7 Weeks Ago:

I made an appointment a few weeks ago to have my blood drawn for a genetic test on my BRCA2 gene, which would detect mutations that make me more likely to develop cancer at some point. There are only two doctors in New South Wales who can do it, and one happens to be close to my work, so I took off early on a Wednesday to walk up to St. Vincent’s. My 4:30 time came and went, and by the time they were able to see me it was pretty much a mad dash to get everything done so the doctors could go home for the day; I was just happy to get it over with and go home myself.

1 Week Ago:

This time Hayden meets me at work because it was really unpleasant going in there by myself last time. The doctor and counsellor lady sit down, pull out my file, and tell me what I already suspect; I carry this mutation, I have a 50% chance of developing cancer, my kids will have a 50% chance of having this mutation, and I have to have expensive tests on a yearly basis to try and catch it early. He goes on for a while about surgery and MRIs while the counsellor has a pained and concerned look on her face and hands me some brochures. The doctor reassures me that Medicare covers a lot of the cost (he has somehow already forgotten that I’m not Australian and therefore ineligible) and says he will refer me to another specialist. I shake his gross clammy hand and get out of the office.

Today:

The counsellor has left me a follow-up voicemail but I’m going to pretend nothing happened for just a little while longer. Hayden and I got engaged a couple of weeks ago – I just wish I could have enjoyed the feeling a little bit longer without stress and worry.

Sutherland, NSW

It's a sunny Sunday afternoon and I'm planning to take a picnic down to the Woronora River in about an hour. I had to make a quick run to the shops, so I figured I would take my camera along and give you a tour of my new neighborhood - Sutherland! It's about 20 minutes from where I used to live in Cronulla (and much more landlocked, sadly), but it has its own charms that are easier to spot when you're on foot and taking the time to notice:

This is one of the less charming places in Sutherland-why do children need a day spa?

My apartment block backs up onto a footy oval and a cemetery. It's actually really peaceful and not creepy at all. 

This is The Royal, the pub I usually choose when faced with the decision about where to grab a beer in Sutherland. Their restaurant has a really nice chicken parmigiana that is about the size of my face.

Platform 1 of Sutherland station, where I wait for the train into the city from Monday-Friday.

This is the entrance to Sutherland station - I think "kiss and ride" is the drop off area for commuters. There are people who use the parking lot outside my apartment building as a park-and-ride since it's so close to the station.

This is Boyle's my #2 pick for pubs in Sutherland. It's a more historic building than The Royal, but I find it to be a little depressing - it's mostly just dudes putting bets on the horses and trying to avoid eye contact with each other.

The dry cleaners. Doona = duvet I think?

This is the band hall where we rehearse. There is an apartment building with a resident who will call us up complaining if we go even 1 minute past our 10 pm cutoff time - I guess not everyone loves the sound of trumpets as much as I do.

The Thai joint near my house - this is where I went on my birthday, it's really good!

Last but not least... my balcony. I'm sitting here typing and waiting for my laundry to dry. It doesn't face the road, but there is always a lot of foot traffic taking a shortcut through to the main street, so I kind of enjoy just sitting out here and seeing who walks past.

And now we go to Clare for the weather report

It's hot. Really hot. Unfortunately it's also windy which means there is a potential for bushfires all around New South Wales. Interestingly enough there are also lots of moths flying around the city which, combined with the heat gives off a somewhat apocalyptic effect. There was one hanging out in our PO box when I went down to check it this morning, and there has been one perched on the wall about 10 feet away from me that hasn't moved all day. How he got up to the fifth floor of a supposedly airtight office building I may never know, but I'm impressed enough to just let him chill on the wall for now.

A day at the races

This weekend the weather forecast was 70 degrees and sunny, so Hayden and I brought out the fancy clothes and headed down to Kembla Grange to watch the races. Kembla Grange is down the south coast of New South Wales just outside of Wollongong, and nearby Mt. Keira and Mt. Kembla add some nice scenery. It’s not as fancy as Randwick in the city, but people were still dressed up and the country atmosphere was really nice. We got there just as the first race was starting, and I put $5 on a complete dud – so far this was not working out as I had hoped. The course looked insanely big close up, and I could barely see the starting gates from the spectator area on the grass near the finish line. The trainers would walk the horses by the spectators before the race, so my technique was either to pick one that looked confident, or pick one that had a name that I liked. I’m sure the bookies love having people like me come to the races, but I was having a good time regardless.

It was ladies day and they had a “fashions on the field” event (which I didn’t enter) to pick who had the best dress and who had the best fascinator (AKA crazy hat). The races were spaced about half an hour apart, so during the down time I could hang around the tents and have a drink, or just enjoy the sunshine out on the grass. In the end most of my horses lost, but I did back a winner that was a total long shot and won me $90, more than enough to make up for my losses plus a spaghetti dinner later that night.

 Even the seagulls were lined up to watch.

Enjoying the sun in between races.