Family Reunion

Just got home from the family Reunion Weekend. It was fantastic and it really made me wish it weren't so long in between them.

We had a chance to catch up with cousins - some of whom we lived in each others pockets throughout our childhood ( or so it seemed) and swapping tall stories with uncles and aunts; laughing so hard, your shrieks become gasps for air and pity for the story to stop. Lots of people brought photos from days gone past and there was much giggling over stories surrounding them.

Singing round the bar and retrieving toddlers from mud. This is family....

Happy 90th birthday Gran! - wow what a milestone.

It was a pity not everyone could make it - but with folk spread all round the world - its a little hard to orchestrate it all... especially on just a normal weekend. I know those who couldn't make it are looking forward to the tales and the photos.

Enjoy the clip I put together.

The Ekka - some photos

I'll be writing about this on the weekend - but thought I'd share some photos first.

This is an action shot of Morgan and Lilly fishing in the frog pond. They had long poles with a large lump of iron tied to the end of the string which needed to be dangled into the mouths of frogs as they opened and closed their jaws.

Lilly is pictured here pulling one out ( a rare thing!)

And for their efforts they won a crappy plastic thing.. yay! though in saying that - the nice man there gave Lilly a princess crown - which totally made her day.

And how can you go to the Ekka without having a strawberry Sundae? You know - it was the first that either Age or I had ever had - they were so GOOD! I think we have been too broke in the past to be able to just say stuff it - get it - you can only get them at the Ekka... I am usually so fussy with icecream - and I ate the lot.

What a fantastic afternoon and evening....

Hail

It hailed tonight. For some this might not be a big deal - but its the first time my children have seen it. The noise on our tin roof slingshot me back through time to my own childhood. Hail meant destruction, devastation, a spate of frustration and tip toeing around Dad.

Sometimes we would have a little times warning before it hit - the cannons would start and my mother would groan. The Granite Belt is renowned for the size of the hail stones ( often as large as gold balls). Many fruit farmers invested in hail guns or cannons and shot them up into storm clouds to break it up. Many said it chased the rains away. All I know is that when the cannons started, hell broke lose.

In lambing season it meant dozens of dead lambs, frozen, battered ripped apart by nature. In fruit picking and vege harvesting, it meant shredded trees, leaves and produce. All laid to waste as the hail ripped the flesh and tore at the hearts. Any produce which escaped would no doubtedly be bruised and unable to be sold.


So when the hail started tonight, my heart thumped momentarily and my breathing got shallower. Then I remembered I was in the middle of suburbia.

I rushed my Pjamed kids outside and under the tin roof and we shreiked at each other trying tobe heard above the racket. We picked up icy stones and popped them in our mouths and watched as our lawn was carpeted in white pearls.

After the torrid of rain had settled, Morgan and Lilly took bowls out onto the lawn and collected the biggest stones.

It was like frozen peas - but without the peas they noted...