Twitching

I'v discovered that bird watchers are called twitchers. It seems appropriate for a bored isolated writer to start twitching.

The plover chicks across the road are getting bigger and causing consternation to their harried parents. One has sadly fallen prey to the ever watchful kookaburras but the other two continue to delight us with their antics.

The biggest chick has decided he is ready to fly and runs everywhere, wings outstretched. He seems disappointed that he has yet to take to the sky but I'm sure all this practice will be strengthening his wings. The good thing is that it deters the kookaburras.

His smaller sibling keeps close to Mum, scouring the ground for worms and insects and hiding behind ground cover when I come near.

The parent plovers (aka Masked Lapwings) will continue to monitor the chicks until they are adult size. Indeed, I have seen some chicks that have refused to leave the parental home and continue to hover around next year's babies.

THE UP SIDE TO ISOLATION

I now have two forms of daily exercise, gardening and walking.

On my daily walk around the island, I've noticed a huge difference. With less human traffic, the birds have come out of hiding. Birds I haven't seen in ages have suddenly reappeared.

Too shy to be seen when there are cars and people around, the Swamp Pheasant or Coucal is often heard but seldom seen. It's 'whoop whoop' noise is difficult to pinpoint as the bird is ground-based and it's call echoes through the trees. We now have one living on the block behind us and venturing into our garden every evening.

The Blue Parrot, l(Pale Headed Rosella), was once common on the island but with the advent of the Rainbow Lorikeets in their thousands, the Blue Parrots are now scarce. I love it when they take to flight, that scarlet splash under their tail contrasting vividly with the pale colourings of their head and wings. They are always found in pairs.

And this morning our Plovers introduced three babies to our world. Plovers (Masked Lapwings) are fretful parents. From dawn to dusk, they call continuously to their errant young, who ignore the calls. Baby plovers, tiny balls of black fluff, run constantly in different directions, never noticing the keen eye of the kookaburra on the wire above. By the end of the week, we'll be lucky to see one baby plover. The sadness of nature.

There are over two hundred species of birds on our little island. It's lovely to see them reclaiming their territory.

ANOTHER DAY OF SELF ISOLATION

I'm  getting bored by self isolation. 

I’ve cleaned the house, done some sewing, mowed many, many lawns including the helipad, gardening till the mozzies made my arms and legs swell up, walked the island daily. 

The helipad, with Rural Fire Service, Paramedics and Local Ambulance Committee. (I'm a firefighter)


It’s a scary thought but as time drags on, the crazy in me is surfacing. I want to dress up to go shopping - either in evening gown or a Darth Vader look-alike protection outfit. 

I want to do crazy videos like the current parody by Chris Mann  taking off the Adele song ‘Hello’. Hell, I've even learned the words to it!  'Hello, it's me. I'm in California dreaming of just going out to eat a burger .....'

Life goes on. What are you doing with your time?

Living with COVID-19

Hey guys,
It's been a long time since I posted on this site. These things happen when you're busy but I've decided to come back to blogging to talk about life as we now know it on the Halfwit Sundays. Halfwits with COVID-19.

(In case you've just come onto this site, the Halfwit Sundays is the derogatory name given to the Southern Moreton Bay Islands of Macleay, Russell, Lamb and Karragarra by envious mainlanders.)

So her we are surrounded by water and with approximately 5000 residents living on the island.

If we get sick, we can call our doctor on the island. Not sure what he would suggest but it certainly wouldn't be telling us to come in for a test. Nothing available. I think 'Stay at home and we'll try to organise something' is more the line.

Better call the paramedic. He's part of Queensland Ambulance Service and knows exactly what to do. Again, you either stay at home if you're not very sick or he will have you transported to the mainland in a water-based ambulance called Kittykat.

So that's us sorted for COVID-19. Stay home, self isolate, wash your hands. However .....

Today was election day for local councils Queensland wide. That's right, a local council election when we've all been told to self isolate. For some strange reason, the government insists that this will be perfectly safe. 'Bring your own pencil' they bleat. 'There will be hand sanitiser.' 'Stay a metre and a half apart.'

Too late for the postal vote, I tried to do a phone vote. No, you might be someone we consider at high risk (over 70) I was told by the telephone operator, but it appears you are healthy. You have to vote or get a fine.

I thought about it. Should I risk it and enjoy the legalise down the track? I planned to take photos of long queues at the voting station and then refuse to go in.

We've just come back from the booths. There were no queues. Guy (hubby) and I went straight in, masks firmly in place. 'Where's the hand sanitiser we were promised?' I asked the lady in the booth. She produced this teeny spray bottle which she sparingly squirted on my hands.

I then handed her my card and she looked up for the first time. "Hi, Jenny,' I said. Surprised, she peered closer. 'Oh, Alene!' she replied. 'Didn't recognise you with the mask.'

Got my two voting slips for Councillor and Mayor and trotted over to the booth. Took out MY OWN PENCIL and crossed the boxes. All done in less than a minute. Over to put them in the ballot boxes - 'Thanks, Russ. Thanks Jan' and off home.

Just another day in the Halfwit Sundays.