Alive, alive....oh!

Around 6.30 am there was a crash which drew the Big Fella out of bed assess the damage. The dog was up and behaving foolishly running around chasing dust motes or some such thing. We all got up and proceeded to go through the morning "Where- are's".
Where are my rolls, where are my smurfs, where are my marbles...? That last one is me.

Pre- breakfast kit in case a flying fish should smack you in the noggin.

As he left he asked Lala to  pick up the pebbles scattered around the door.
She obliged, then realised they were from the fish vase that houses Miss Lulu, she of the wafty plume fins and big eyes, like a lovely blue burlesque queen. That is, it usually houses Miss Lulu when it is on the cabinet and not lying on the floor vacated in a pool of water!

Lala yelled for assistance and we all ran, stat, for the scene of the crime. Notably absent from the carnage was the victim. "Where-is the fish??," they all demanded of me simultaneously. Ms Lulu was nowhere to be seen but outside the glass doors, Lola, the dog was smacking her chops on her bed. Of course we assumed the worst. It must have been Ms Lola in the lounge room with her sticky beak nose jumping up on the new couch to reach the fish vase.

There were assurances that it would have been quick and we'd buy a new one, blah, blah....and we started to clean up the pebbles and water. I picked up the pillow from the chair the dog had jumped from and there, lying curled in the foetal position was a small irridescent blue clammy blob. The nearest mourner let out an unsympathetic,"EEEEW!" and then the fish twitched. Just a little twitch but it sent them running again. "Water!! Quick! She's alive!!"

I scooped her up amidst more eeews and plopped her into somebody's hastily refilled brekky glass.
She hung poised in the glassware then with a flick of her flaccid tail, she was off lapping the glass and refilling her gills like nobody's business.

After being off her food for a while, she has had a full recovery and is now up on the piano out of reach, tormenting the dog with her flickering fish moves forever.

So now they are all singing the "Alive" song around the house thereby providing another reason to be grateful to the universe. X- Factor is over and we have the TV back from the tween-2-teens. (HMMM- that's a good name for a girl band!)

"Alive!"

Down by the River- Part 1

Sunday we went to find the red Rapunzel tower that had been spotted and gazed at from my room in the hospital. Sunday marked the start of the good week (out of the three) so I determined to make it so. I had been feeling a bit like Rapunzel, without the hair, stuck in my suburban tower for the last two weeks.

                                                  

The  tower was easy to find as was the good riverside bike track...and some tiny, silver, dead fish being hoarded by a crane.

So we sat and looked at the fish and contemplated what else might live in the great, grey, greasy waters of the lazy Brisbane River. It reads better when you say "lazy Limpopo" and you are Jack Nicholson.

Of course we had to hold and examine the dead fish.

Then we studied the mangroves and contemplated what might be living in the mud...

and held and examined the mangrove fruit. Look at that grubby hand! We like to get dirty on a field trip.

There was free wheeling for all while I sauntered along with tag- along Tess on her tiny trike.

If there are Morton Bay Figs trees this lot will be up them in a trice. You have to love those fig trees. 

This B2 boy has been most loving and  gentle to me of late. He stood beside me in the setting sun and we took photos of our long shadows together then he made this one. I think I love this photo.

As the sun set in the western suburbs over the Wesley hospital and the 'good' room we mooched home and it felt good. The five chillun and I went out for a picnic with wheels and survived- even enjoyed ourselves! It felt like me again even if it is one week in three. It is something to look forward to!

Oh, and I got the last haircut yesterday just in time because last night my hair hurt. Seriously, hurty hair follicles! Who knew? So I had a shower at midnight and towelled it dry and went back to bed. I had forgotten how easy short hair is. Imagine how easy bald will be!