Living, Loving and Sharing Life …

Tag Archives: Broken Hill

 

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Hello all

I know … I know … I began our holiday with visits to artesian spas and now I am ending our travels with more artesian spas! Very fitting methinks.

Although I have to confess, after two spas in two different towns today, I am a little ‘spa’d out’ right now and I’ll tell you why. We began the day in Walgett (pop 1800) which has a small artesian spa for free at their Public Pool, therefore by 8.15 am we were all packed and on our way to the spa in town.

Soon after, we were delighting in the beautiful warm spa waters of Australia’s artesian basin. How wonderful! Three hours later we arrived in another town called Moree (pop 8,245) where we purposely stayed in a caravan park which has five different spa pools all of different temperatures. It’s an amazing place!

Of course, as soon as we had a chance, we were trying out all the different pools. I have to say dear friends, that they were full of ‘old people’ (not US of course) all hoping for some miraculous cure or other. Or perhaps they were like us and found their aching limbs responded well to sitting in the beautiful warm waters. There sure were a lot of aged people in those baths!

However, I digress! There has been more to our travels than spa pools folks … more … much more. Oh it is hard to believe that this time it is actually about to end. We arrive home on Thursday. Now everybody weep … as we will be weeping come Thursday morning.

Leaving Broken Hill we travelled through Wilcannia (pop 900) a town having massive problems with their aborigine community. We were told "do NOT get petrol here; do not stop here!" We did both! I even went into the local store and bought ham and a drink for lunch. I asked the woman why the place was so quiet and she replied "They're all in Broken Hill for a football final. Just wait until they all come back!!" I saw some vintage cars on their way to Perth when Geoff was getting petrol.

Leaving Broken Hill we travelled through Wilcannia (pop 900) a town having massive problems with their aborigine community. We were told “do NOT get petrol here; do not stop here!” We did both! I even went into the local store and bought ham and a drink for lunch. I asked the woman why the place was so quiet and she replied “They’re all in Broken Hill for a football final. Just wait until they all come back!!” It was our lucky day. I also saw some vintage cars on their way to Perth when Geoff was getting petrol.

Now, let’s get back to where we left off at Broken Hill. We were on such a high after we arrived there that the next day was a bit of a downer for us. Everything seemed harder. We were tired of looking at mines and museums and everything annoyed us. Why were we so tired?

Geoff had been doing a lot more driving per day hoping to get us home earlier, so when we arrived at 5pm at Cobar (another mining town: silver and gold, pop 2500) we went “ho hum … we’re too tired to really care.”

It was not long after this that I made an executive decision dear friends! We would not drive so far the next day. We would stop trying to get home quickly and begin – once again – to enjoy ourselves and get home whenever we got home. It worked!

Now isn’t this interesting? As soon as we made this decision – on the road between Cobar and Bourke – circumstances occurred to make it come into being. I still find it hard to believe actually. It happened like this:

I was trying to rendezvous with a friend in Bourke who was leaving the day we were arriving. We knew it would be tricky so when I arrived I phoned her on her mobile and she said “We have just been to the Bakery to get some goodies and left town. What a shame!”

A conversation about the Bakery ensued which led us to visit and have coffee and cake before we left for the next town. We asked the shop assistant about this town and she was adamant that we weren’t to stay there; it wasn’t safe; it was too small etc.

And then dear friends, a sales pitch for us to stay in the town of Bourke came flowing out of her mouth and it was so convincing that we were almost saying “So where do we sign up?” There was mention of Poet’s Dinners at the Bush Camp and rides on a paddle steamer and more besides.

Next minute, we are pulling in to Kidman’s Bush Camp and having the time of our lives … and yes, the paddle steamer up the Darling River was just wonderful the next day that we didn’t leave until midday. We had such a great time in Bourke all thanks to our friend Katrina and our desire to take it easy!

Therefore, we just keep driving as far as it is comfortable to drive in a day, arrive around 2-3pm and enjoy the rest of our time in that town.

On this note I will leave you tonight … heavy of heart about returning home … but knowing it has to happen. As my granddaughter Alice (13) said sadly to her mother the other day “Mum, I’ve forgotten what Grandma’s voice sounds like.”

And that means, dear ones,that I must go home. Talking on the phone doesn’t cut the mustard apparently.  I need to go home to chat to my grandchildren. Time for me to disconnect with my travels and reconnect with my family …


Hello all

Well, we’re finally on our way home … albeit the long way home! However, we were determined to enjoy it and make it last as long as possible.

What a day we’ve had today dear friends! Unplanned as it was, it turned out that the little things that happened to us made our day. Let me give you an idea how it went.

We stayed overnight in Mildura (pop 26,000) famous for its raisins, grapes and fruit. We happened to be there with a whole bunch of school children from Grade 1 – 4 who were ending the school term with a stay at a caravan park. Sure, they come from Mildura but this was indeed a treat for them.

I went to microwave my leftovers for tea and arrived in the middle of the children’s meal in the camp kitchen. What bedlam! What mayhem! How delightful to see small children enjoying the thrill of a night away from home. Loved every moment of it.

The Murray River

The Murray River

This morning, we did some Murray River viewing and saw this Mighty River at its very best but when we got to Wentworth where the Darling River and the Murray River meet, Geoff just lost the plot. He did folks. He saw a lock on the river and began talking to the Lock Keeper about how it all works when a small boat arrived to go through the lock.

I could not get him to leave Wentworth until that boat went through the lock. Previously, he was talking to a fellow who had a houseboat called “The Mother of Ducks” and I had to drag him away from there also.

We spent almost two hours in this town while Geoff enjoyed himself immensely doing all things that pertain to rivers and boats, which meant we arrived quite late in Broken Hill 265 ks away. After getting settled at the caravan park we decided to go to the lookout and view the sunset over the town.

Things weren’t going too well in the sunset department as there was no good place that we could see to view it. We ended up taking photos next to a house which partially blocked the view when the occupant came home and invited us in to view it through her front windows!

She had just taken up residence TODAY in that house and she rented it because of the view! Well, we missed the sunset but we did have a lovely chat to Nikki the resident of the house. Oh, we had so much in common! She came from the same area as Geoff near Grafton in New South Wales.

She showed us the beautiful house and by the time we left it was completely dark! But what a thrill it was for us to be invited by a complete stranger into her house to view the sunset. It is the small things like this that make travel delightful.

Another thing that happened today was finding some fresh vegetables – at dirt cheap prices – outside a farm when we took the wrong road to Broken Hill and had to turn back! It was doubly delightful because we had to throw away all our vegetables and fruit when we came into the Riverina area due to fruit fly and we had none left.

With all this good news dear friends, I will now leave you as time is getting away. Forgive me if this post is not perfect as I have typed it up in record time before going to bed! I’ll leave you with this gallery of photos.

Love to all.

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Five more days of my Blog Challenge

Five more days of my Blog Challenge

Day 362 of 366 Blog Challenge 2012

Hello all

Do you ever think about about the fact that you have an ‘inner child’ that lives within you? You think he/she is grown up don’t you? Well, surprise surprise! Apparently we take this inner child with us throughout our lives into adulthood.

I received two emails today that got me thinking on this subject and as I went about my day I began to wonder what we can do to reclaim our inner child if it has somehow got lost.

Nurturing your inner child

Nurturing your inner child

I am very aware of this snippet of psychological information folks! Every day I am conscious about rediscovering the child within me that became lost through some difficult years in my  life. I have pretty much found her now but today’s emails helped me once again, to reconnect with the need to feed my precious little inner child who just loves being affirmed!

My research shows it is important to rediscover this inner child which causes us to be stuck if there are wounds from our past … and let’s face it, most of us have not escaped such wounding.

For those who may want to know more visit this website or find the book “HOMECOMING: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child” by John Bradshaw. www.johnbradshaw.com/homecomingprint

I have read Bradshaw’s book on “Shame” and found it very helpful in my liberation from the shame that I felt for a large part of my life … but which no longer haunts my soul. Freed at last! Shame is a bit like guilt; the difference is that we feel guilty for what we DO. We feel shame for what we ARE eg somehow flawed as a human being. It’s like this:

“We first see the world though the eyes of a little child, and that “inner child” remains with us throughout our lives, no matter how outwardly “grown-up” and powerful we become. If our vulnerable child was hurt, abandoned, shamed, or neglected, that child’s pain, grief, and anger live on within us. “I believe that this neglected, wounded inner child of the past is the major source of human misery,” says Bradshaw.”

So today folks, I am going to help you nurture your inner child by sharing these two stories which reminded ME to keep my inner child alive. Time for some fun and laughter.

THE LEGO STORY:

The shack is real but the flowers and trees are LEGO

The shack is real but the flowers and trees are LEGO

When I was at my daughter’s home on Christmas Day the children had been constructing Lego which Santa had so kindly left for them! Violet was constructing police vehicles and on the cabinet nearby was a completed Lego Jumbo Jet that Alice had finished constructing that morning.

My children loved Lego and now their children are also enjoying the delights of this construction brick. So, imagine my surprise this morning when I came across a story about the building of GIANT Lego trees in outback Australia at a town in the middle of nowhere called Broken Hill.

“A LIFE-SIZED LEGO Forest has been constructed in Broken Hill to commemorate 50 years of the construction toy in Australia. Fifteen LEGO trees and 15 flower sets have been set up in Living Desert State Park, a 2400ha reserve nestled within the Barrier Ranges. The trees stand at a towering 4m high, and all 30 pieces are more than 66 times larger than their original counterparts.”

The Lego trees in the sunset

The Lego trees against the sunset

If any of you know about Lego the small trees and flowers often come with building sets but these giant ones were especially made with the approval of Australia and New Zealand Lego. The forest is part of LEGO Australia’s nine month Festival of Play; a celebration of the iconic brick since its arrival in the country 50 years ago.

Wouldn’t my grandchildren love to see these giant Lego in all their glory in the outback? There are no plans to uproot the Lego and take them elsewhere apparently. I simply love the idea of giant Lego standing tall in the outback of Australia.

THE DELIGHTS OF CHILDREN:

Secondly, my neighbour sent me an email about children and as I read it, I became aware that the Season of Christmas is really geared up for children isn’t it? And I remembered the fun I had with my children when they were little. Now that they have children of their own they are finding this fun for themselves and I am enjoying the by-product of it.

I am going to leave you with a snippet of the verse that was sent to me. It is guaranteed to make you smile and hopefully even make you laugh out loud. Enjoy and don’t forget to nurture your inner child today. Do it now!

CHILDREN

I was off to a good start.
God had entrusted me
with four children and
I didn’t want to disappoint Him.

I tried to be patient the day
the children smashed
two dozen eggs on
the kitchen floor searching
for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding…

when they started a hotel for
homeless frogs in the spare bedroom,

although it took me nearly two hours
to catch all twenty-three frogs.

When my daughter poured
ketchup all over herself and
rolled up in a blanket to see
how it felt to be a hot dog,
I tried to see the humor
rather than the mess..

Children in a Nativity scene

Children in a Nativity scene

My proudest moment came
during the children’s
Christmas pageant.

My daughter was playing Mary,
two of my sons were shepherds
and my youngest son was a wise man.
This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd
had practiced his line,
“We found the babe wrapped
in swaddling clothes.”

But he was nervous and said,
“The baby was wrapped
in wrinkled clothes.”

My four-year-old “Mary” said,
“That’s not ‘wrinkled clothes,’ silly.

That’s dirty, rotten clothes.”

A wrestling match broke out
between Mary and the shepherd
and was stopped by an angel,
who bent her halo and lost
her left-wing.

I slouched a little lower
in my seat when Mary
dropped the doll representing
Baby Jesus, and it bounced
down the aisle crying,
“Mama-mama.”

Mary grabbed the doll,
wrapped it back up
and held it tightly as
the wise men arrived.

My other son stepped forward
wearing a bathrobe
and a paper crown,
knelt at the manger
and announced,
“We are the three wise men,
and we are bringing gifts
of gold,
common sense
and fur.”

The congregation
dissolved into laughter,
and the pageant
got a standing ovation.

“I’ve never enjoyed a Christmas
program as much as this one,”
laughed the pastor,
wiping tears from his eyes

“For the rest of my life,
I’ll never hear the
Christmas story without
thinking of
gold,
common sense
and fur.”

“My children are my pride
and my joy and my greatest
blessing,” I said as I dug
through my purse for an aspirin.

 



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