February in review

February 28. Day 59. What are you looking at?

I raised a few eyebrows this morning. For two years I went for a walk at the crack of dawn just about every day. But for a whole variety of life reasons during the long non teaching period I've been walking later in the day.
That has been mostly okay but with the new semester now here it has become patently obvious that's not going to work. Three days of semester. Three days without a walk. The size of my bottom is increasing by the day.
I have figured out by bitter experience that exercising before work is the only reliable way but I am clearly a slow learner and I have to keep relearning what should be blindingly obvious.
So finally motivated by fear of fat arse syndrome* today I set the alarm and while it wasn't the 5am start I'd planned I was out the door by 5.30.
My surprise presence didn't go un-noticed. Will you check out the looks on the faces of this pair, both photographed within metres of my front door.
The neighbours are clearly a bit surprised to see me out and about so early.
Get used to it guys. I'm back and you can expect to see a lot more of me (but hopefully there will be less bum to see).

*this may or may not be a real syndrome. The fat arse is annoyingly real

Febraury 27. Day 58. The way to a man's heart

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Simple beings men.
Well let me tell you with me it is even simpler than that and can be summed up in one word - chocolate.
If the world is divided into two sets of people - the sweets and the savories - I would normally put myself in the savory camp. Hot chips, cold chips, dips, nuts - these are a few of my favourite things and once started I find it is impossible to stop.
But there is a special place in my heart and on my taste buds reserved especially for chocolate. Bloody brilliant stuff.
So I was very happy to find this little box of delicious calories in my in-tray today from a grateful student I had helped navigate the minefield of subject selection.
Let me make it clear, I was just doing my job. I do this day in, day out without students having to resort to providing gifts. It's why they pay me he big bucks.
However, it always makes a girl happy when someone takes the time to say thanks (happier still when they say it with chocolate).
Simple isn't it?

February 26. Day 57. Soggy and smelly

Remember when we were all performing rain dances. It's not long ago but it seems such a distant memory. Everything is damp. Everything is slightly musty and I am not just talking about my body parts.
Seriously, we've had enough now of the rain business now (although the forecast would suggest the weather gods think otherwise).
Yesterday my pool man, who unfortunately looks nothing like the soap operas would suggest I deserve, came for his regular visit and topped up with expensive chemicals. This morning I was forced to let a foot of water and doubtless those same chemicals run down the drain. Sobs quietly.
The birds have decided my back veranda and the covered pool deck are completely awesome places to shelter from the rain. The mountains of glass in both areas are now covered in bird shit. Sobs grow in volume.
And I can't go out for a walk because I have seen the Wizard of Oz and know a wicked witch such as myself will implode if soaked. The treadmill just isn't the same. Hysterical sobbing.
Okay, I exaggerate. In the scheme of things life isn't that bad but is it so bad to want to see the sun?
Funny what things you can yearn for. Right now, I'd love nothing more than to be hanging out a load of washing. Later this week I'll probably be busily pegging a mountain of clothes on the line and cursing.
Given it's not that long city was in drought, it is important to be careful what you wish for (even if your clothes, towels and decking are starting to smell like poo).

Rainy days and Mondays

Come on weather gods. As though Mondays aren't hard enough without dumping this on us. Seriously.
My normally sunny disposition (said with a large lashing of irony) is quickly washed away in weather such as this. It's SAD (where SAD is seasonal affective disorder or moods seriously affected by the weather).
But there were bright spots on this dreary, grey and very, very wet Monday.
My first appointment of the day was at 4EB Radio at Kangaroo Point where we were able to award a $5000 journalism scholarship. That brought a smile to one student's face.
As I was at Kangaroo Point I decided to stop off at the cliffs to take a photograph of the soggy city.
But it wasn't to be. Instead I met Ivy who proved there is no such thing as bad weather only bad clothing choices.
What a little ray of Sunshine this 18-month-old is. She's making quite a splash on a Monday although her Dad Dave said it was quite a different matter when she was stuck inside at home.
A red cape and a big puddle. What more can a toddler want?

February 24. Day 55. Patience Grasshopper

 

"My dear young fellow," the Old-Green-Grasshopper said gently, "there are a whole lot of things in this world of ours you haven't started wondering about yet." Roald Dahl ·

If a grasshopper tries to fight a lawnmower, one may admire his courage but not his judgement. Robert A. Heinlein  

"Patience young Grasshopper"

The Karate Kid

Knee-high to a grasshopper

Democratic Review 1851

"Right, I'm going to act like a grasshopper and spring into action"

Susan Hetherington

Along with "Hurry up we are going to be late" and "turn that thing down" threatening to spring into action is one of my most common phrases. Generally this is followed by at least five more minutes of slugging on the couch or in bed before finally getting moving in a motion that far closer resembles earth worm than grasshopper. Actually it probably resembles someone who has spent many hours consuming grasshoppers the night before and you can't blame a person for that. It's a damn fine cocktail the grasshopper.

Anyway, I am truly showing my gardening-free credentials by saying that I love grasshoppers (the insects and the cocktails).

There is something about their shape and their motion that is singularly attractive.

How could you not like this little bloke who decided my washing was a very fine place to take a rest this morning?

I liked the detail of the little hairs on his legs in the shot crawling across my husband's shirt but the clothes peg shot showed off his size so you get two for the price of one today. The next frame was an empty clothes peg as Mr Grasshopper sprang into action with a whole lot more flair and grace than I ever manage.

February 23. Day 54. You've got to hand it to the kids

I never know what I am going to see when I walk out the front door.
Some days I see a shop, some days a race track and today there was an airport and rocket launch pad in one section and a street scene in another.
There is a tiny but awesome community garden area literally outside my front door. At the other end of the garden is the home of Mike and Sue and their three kids.
The kids have adopted the area which is not much more than an easement and turned it into a fantastic safe place for them to ride their scooters, have a picnic or play with their toys.
These are the hands of Eliana and Mitchell setting up for lunch for their toys.
As the oldest Eliana was calling the shots, taking on the duty of inviting the friends.
Ring, Ring. "Hi, I know you live near by. Would you like to drop over? No need to bring anything. Just come as you are."
Kirralee, next in line, insisted on phone calls to each of the toy playmates. Wouldn't want any gatecrashers to drop in uninvited.
Mitch, the youngest, was welcome to bring his friends too but he did get into a bit of strife for knocking at the wrong imaginary door which would have had him enter the imaginary house via a girl's bedroom. Clearly we can't have that sort of behaviour.
It was such a joy watching them at play. You've got to hand it to them. They've got it sorted.

Fish and spits

Thank God it's Friday. Being a good, bad lapsed Catholic, the Friday of my childhood always meant fish and chips for dinner. I liked that not at all for religious reasons but because it was the only time we got anywhere near a take away shop.
These days I don't do fish and chips on a Friday, nor do I go to church, nor do I pray (well not in a formal sense although I do seem to be calling on a power greater than my own for help more often than I care to admit).
I also find myself at odds with an awful lot of what the Church teaches and rightfully despise much which has been done in the name of this and other religions.
I would not even be able to quantify I what I do or do not believe in.
But if push comes to shove and I am tick a box on a form such as a census I still identify myself as Catholic. I think some things are so innately ingrained in you from a young age that they stay with you for life whether you like it or not (And I am not just talking about the Catholic guilt thing here although that's definitely there too).
I was married in a Catholic Church, my son is baptised Catholic and he goes to a Catholic school so it is very much a case that you can take the girl out of the Catholic school but you can't take the Catholic school out of the girl.
Still if I can at least try to do unto others as you would have them do for you I'll be happy with that.
As I see it, religion isn't to blame but churches often are.
So here endeth the lesson, an awful lot of a spray inspired by the spitting fish I photographed at South Bank this morning.
For me, it puts everything in focus.

February 21. Day 52. Stumpy

"Every dog has its day, but the dog with no tail has a weekend." Barry Hetherington
I can not absolutely verify that this piece of genius actually originated from my father but certainly he used it a lot and introduced it to me. Dad joke.
But anyway by that definition this bloke I photographed at South Bank this afternoon has a Weak End.
It would appear that Stumpy is actually doing something about what's lacking in his life and the tail is regenerating.
Funny isn't it? We consider ourselves to be a superior species but if one of our bits gets cut off there's no going back (except hair and finger nails. Given my recent haircut at least I can console myself with the fact it will grown back).
With or without a tail, I think Stumpy is a stunning looking lizard with most impressive markings.
But I admit he's not all there. How good will he be when he is?

February 20. Day 51. Hands-on

Hands up who hasn't wanted to paint themselves.
Little kids do it all the time. Given the choice between a piece of paper and just about any other surface or body part kids will sensibly take option B.
After all, they are not generally the ones that have to clean it up. But when we get big we learn to colour between the lines and choose a more "appropriate" medium.
But this week is O Week and teenagers about to embark on university for the first time are about to discover a whole new set of rules.
O Week is all about free condoms and toga parties (oh and lots and lots of information sessions about making your way in the new world as a university student).
It is also very much about getting to know other students and with that in mind the Creative Industries Faculty put down a giant canvas and a whole pile of paints and invited students to create.
And then it rained ....
So Joanna Sandford, a new Media and Communications student, was left with a brightly coloured hand just as the canvas was pulled away to keep it dry.
So what's a girl to do? Easy. Hand print herself (I have a sneaky suspicion that she may have painted herself even if the canvas was still there ... )
And why not? We say it's a very hands-on course. You might as well show your true colours right from the start.

February 19. Day 50. Dancing in the streets

Charge. The new university year is now off and running and the First Years are coming to get you (well more specifically they are coming to get me with my first encounter with our first years scheduled for tomorrow). It's O Week.
But as a bit of a dress rehearsal today I found myself in the middle of a flash mob of the Grace College freshmen having a bit of a bonding experience in the Queen Street Mall.
After the street dance, the students were divided into groups and sent out with a "shopping list" of things to find in the city.
As I went about my business I kept running into groups earnestly studying maps and lists before rushing off in search of the next treasure. It was as much orienteering as orientation for students new to the city and university and residential college life.
They seemed to be getting right into it. With the fun over, let's hope next week they throw themselves into their studies with the same level of enthusiasm.

February 18. Day 49. Little weed

This really is quite pretty. Weeds are like that.
They are often colourful and attractive at first glance. Their influence spreads quickly and it may not immediately be evident how much damage they are causing. It is possible you look at the other plants withering and dying because they are being sapped dry and wonder what on earth their problem is. They can be being undermined without it really being evident. You can pull the weeds out but their roots can remain and the soil is often already poisoned and with that the foundations of the plants around them weakened.
Sneaky, deceptive little buggers taking over.
As it happens I know nothing about gardening but this is the story of other little weeds trying to spread into my patch.
Just substitute the word weed for bully and there you have it. If only it was okay to get out the Zero Weeding Wand.

February 17. Day 48. Flash of brilliance

I decided my bird obsession had to end (but like so many addictions, saying it and doing it is not the same thing).
Anyway as I left the house I said to myself "Enough with the bird photos. No more bird photos for at least a week".
Fortunately I have become quite good at ignoring the voices in my head or at least recognising the ones that  might just be a flash of brilliance from those which as a lightning bolt that are likely to start a fire that will only lead to destruction.
Anyway I was well on the homeward journey with non bird photos on my camera when a flock of sulphur breasted cockatoos flew overhead and appeared to stop in Musgrave Park just in front of me.
Okay, no harm in having a look. But when I got there the only birds were the rainbow lorikeets in full afternoon song.
I have to tell you that the shrill squawking of the lorikeets is almost impossible to ignore. The volume and pitch just seems to increase until you respond (coincidentally this appears to be the exact technique used by my son when I am trying to ignore his squawking, but I digress).
So the bird-free resolve melted. And there you have it. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I declare it a flash of brilliance.

February 16. Day 47. Nifty 50

I  am so old. I know this because today I went to the first ever 50th birthday party of a contemporary. It may even be the first ever 50th birthday party as I was living in England when both my parents turned 50, but I digress.
First it's 18th birthdays. Then it's 21sts. Before you know it everyone is getting engaged or married and as naturally as night follows day there are christenings and first birthday parties of the offspring.
And now here it is. The season of the 50th birthday has arrived. I would like to claim mine is a long, long way off but I can't (at least not with a straight face).
So I shall consider today to be quite a fine dress rehearsal.
Happy Birthday Barry my dear OLD friend. See you at my place in a couple of years

February 15. Day 46. Off with the fairies

I am having a bad hair day.  Actually I am having a bad hair month ever since a hairdresser interpreted "Just a bit of a trim, same but shorter" to mean "Chop into it, lots of layers, complete restyle please". I seem to encounter many a hairdresser who is not happy unless you are getting value for money which is interpreted as taking off way more hair than I am happy with.
Anyway, it's not fair. Some people seem to be able to wear short and spiky hair and it looks fabulous. On me it looks like a boy. According to my son it looks fugly (in case you are uninitiated that means very ugly, well sort of).
So this morning I was hiding under a hat at the Roma Street Parklands when I photographed this Superb Fairy-wren, plumage all spiky and fabulous looking.
But that's not the only unfair thing about this little bloke (and it is a bloke because the girls are brown which is also unfair).
What is unfair here is that according to Birds in Backyards these birds have been "labelled as the least faithful birds in the world. Females may be courted by up to 13 males in half an hour and 76% of young are sired by males outside the social group". Wow.
So despite being plain and dull looking with bad hair, very attractive males they barely know throw themselves at the females. And they still manage to look good at the end of it.
They do, however, have high pitched trills. I must say I'm not surprised what with all that action.
Perhaps what I need is a blue tint. If I ask the hairdresser for a shade of red I might get that.

February 14. Day 45. Love is ...

Yes, it's soppy, sappy and sentimental but I totally heart Valentine's Day.
Even though it is a Hallmark Occasion of the highest order, I can't see any a problem with taking the opportunity to tell our nearest and dearest how much we love them.
So I admit to being in the City today with the purpose of finding myself a public display of affection. I was thinking roses, balloons, kisses or cuddles.
I was not expecting seeing a bride hoiking up her wedding dress and charging down the mall with a photographer and the groom in tow.
What else is a girl to do but follow them?
I finally caught up with Jessie and David at the Albert Street Uniting Church where they were posing for photographs.
Now it has to be said that Church is one of Brisbane's prettiest and I know that there is fierce competition to secure it for weddings.
So perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised that our Valentine's Day couple would want their lasting memories at that church.
What is surprising is that Jessie and David were married at the Registry Office and the church was merely a backdrop. There was a bit of surprise but a friendly wave from the couple who had just exchanged vows in the church when the second bride and groom rocked up.
But it's Valentine's Day and there's enough love to go round. And given I got engaged on Valentine's Day, I might raise an eyebrow but I'm sure not complaining. I wish both couples the very best of luck.

February 13. Day 44. Rock on

Rock on.
I walk by this pool at South Bank frequently and normally it is a shallow pool with the rocks all fully submerged. Not today. Someone has piled up rocks in a line to form a dam.
At 7am the shallows, the rocks, the reflections and the water were stunningly beautiful. I also think the rocks may be a metaphor for today - a rocky start if you like.
I wasn't the only one having a rocky start. It may be impolite to say so but my mother may
1) Be out of her depth and
2) Have rocks in her head
For reasons I can't explain my mother is presently in Lima, Peru. When she made a couple of frantic calls home this morning she was in the airport, her luggage was lost, the tour company had failed to arrive to collect her and she had neglected to pack the travel itinerary and contact details.
Dam, I say again.
I believe the situation has resolved itself at least for now but seriously surely the children should be giving their parents grief rather than the other way around. There's something to reflect on.
Anyway hopefully the panic is over and the great South American adventure will continue without hiccup.
Rock on. Mum. Rock on.

February 12. Day 43. Gotcha

Apparently the Bug Catcher is one of the few toys that has remained almost completely unchanged since 1975.
I find that strangely reassuring. I loved my Bug Catcher although I confess that when it came to catching bugs it was almost completely useless. The bottom was way too big and offered far too much opportunity for any escapologist bug (which is just about all of them).
On the other hand, in conjunction with the butterfly net, the Bug Catcher represented hours of fun. Doubtless it also represented the contravening of many statutes against cruelty to animals but I digress.
Anyway while I have long since retired both the net and the Bug Catcher, I have a renewed interest in capturing my old friend the Blue Triangle Butterfly Graphium sarpedon.
And I have to say the old flutter bys, as I used to know them, are not much easier to capture with a lens than they are with a net.
But as the old television ad used to go "aaahh gotcha".

February 11. Day 42. Polly want to poo on you

They say that it is good luck if it rains on your wedding day. Well it bucketed down the day I was married but I still believe that was a saying made up to make newly weds feel better that their "special" day has been spoiled by the rain gods.
In the same way it is possible that in some culture it is good luck to have a bird poo on you.
Well let me tell you that seems like a pile of shit to me - and yes that has happened to me, today as it happens.
Frankly I have a new saying. She who stands for a great length of time under a tree packed with birds shouldn't be surprised if she gets dumped on from a great height.
It was that kind of Monday. Still the poo washes off quickly. The embarrassment will fade in time. When I see the struggles others are facing this week my life really isn't that shitty

February 10. Day 41. Year of the Snake

Growing up, most of what I knew about Chinese legends and culture came from that most hideously dubbed children's television show Monkey. My brother was a HUGE fan of Monkey, Sandy, Pigsy and Tripitaka and given back in the old days families had only one TV I got to see quite a bit of it.

Despite this I am still fascinated.

These days I am a little bit better informed given I have one sister living in Hong Kong and another married into an Australian Chinese family. My greater knowledge has not been matched by a more adept use of chopsticks, but I digress.

Australians have taken Chinese New Year very much to heart and today Chinatown mall was packed with families enjoying the celebrations.

I think part of the reason Chinese New Year is so popular is that Australians will adopt any excuse to have a party. Having said that, I think we can learn a lot about New Year celebrations from our Eastern cousins.

Their celebrations seem far more about family and food where ours often come down to alcohol.

Also you have to love a celebration that gives people the chance to dress up, parade through the streets and hand over of packages of money.

On top of that red is my colour and I'm pretty sure I am not the only one happy to start this year afresh.

So 新年快乐 Xin Nian Kuai Le. May the snake treat you kindly.

February 9. Day 40. Slaying the dragon

Perhaps it's the influence of the lunar new year. Perhaps they've finally recognised that mother knows best but strange things have been happening in my house.
While I love nothing more than getting out of the house and discovering the world on foot, the males think this is very strange behaviour. The species has evolved since we learned to walk upright and part of that evolution involves the invention of vehicles. As advanced beings we should go with that or something.
Anyway, yesterday morning it was my husband not me that got up before dawn and took part in a walking group.
And today the boy agreed to come for a bit of a walk with me. Five hours later we returned home.
Yes, we'd stopped for lunch. Yes we'd been into the shops in the city but we'd also seen things you don't see by car such as the dragon boat races on the Brisbane River at South Bank.
We'd also had plenty of opportunity to discuss life the universe and everything without either of us resorting to Google.
We may not have taken part in the dragon boat races but I reckon I had a win just the same.

February 8. Day 39. Insy Wincy

 

They can't actually hurt you, they do an awful lot of good but really no-one likes them. At all.

In fact, many cringe at the mere thought.

That could apply to this spider I saw at Roma Street Parklands but although I am a girl I am not at all girlie when it comes to spiders. I find their webs totally beautiful.

Nope, I am talking about a far less pleasant necessary evil, the mammogram.

Yes, yes, I know they are life saving and I know I should be thankful this government-sponsored screening and I am but surely that doesn't mean I have to enjoy them does it?

I will not claim there was a spring in my step as I walked from the car park at Roma Street to my appointment but the important thing is I went.

A mammogram makes a girl feel vulnerable and unpleasant pretty much as an insect caught in a spider's web I imagine.

Strip to the waist in front of a stranger, have your breasts poked and prodded into place and then squeeze them between two giant metallic plates. Repeat.

Yep, it's just an insy, wincy bit degrading but most women understand the possible repercussions of not doing so are far, far worse. And after all if we are going to submit to a cold crochet hook up the unmentionables once every two years this is a piece of cake.

So boys in the words of our Prime Minister's "significant other" go find yourself a small female Asian doctor.

No-one is asking you to enjoy it, act like the sports wear company and Just Do It.

February 7. Day 38, Black and blue

I need to get out more. I need to stop and smell the flowers, obviously.
Until today I never knew there was such a thing as a Blue-banded Bee - a Common Blue-banded Bee  no less on account of the fact that it is, well, common. It appears that while I have been busily running around like a blue-arsed fly I have totally missed other insects with blue bums.
According to my research (read Google) , the Blue-banded Bee prefers purple and blue flowers and that is exactly where I found them this morning in the common garden across the road from my home.
The garden carries a sign saying it is Craig's Garden and Craig is the very first person to greet me when we moved here just over two years ago. It was also Craig who was the first to come running when we tried to set the kitchen on fire shortly after.
Craig was out tending to that community land just about every day and was always up for a chat.
Today it was his widow Noela who was out in the garden and ready for a chat. Since cancer claimed Craig she's taken over much of the gardening and this morning was cleaning up after the storms.
Those bees, she told me, come every year about this time and later there are bright yellow ones.
Yep, I need to get out more.

February 6. Day 37. Ten green bottles

I know why God invented the iPad. It was to give children something to do on car journeys other than sing Ten Green Bottles.
Yes, it is true that everyone CAN sing but it is equally true that not everyone SHOULD sing, even in privacy of their own car. Actually the car is probably the worst place for singing when others are present because there is no escape. I fall into the group who really should refrain from singing. Ever.
Sometimes, however, it is impossible to resist.
If Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, David Bowie's Young Americans  or just about anything from the Hot August Night, Bat out of Hell or Abba Gold CDs should come on the radio I will be forced to sing and it will be loud.
For these moments I have my own Simon Cowell to remind me of just how lacking in talent I really am. Everyone's a critic.I find myself forced to remind that certain teen judge that he might do well to remember just who it is that pays for his singing lessons and drives Mum's taxi to and from the classes.
It's enough to drive anyone to drink. Hand me a bottle someone.
PS - while the Brisbane City Council rubbish contractor is repeatedly having issues emptying our bins, I promise this is not my collection of empties. There is a glass recycling plant near the river at West End on one of my less regular walking routes.

February 5. Day 36. Spring into action

I feel like I am living in a rubbish tip. Here, for once, I am not talking about the state of my house where try as I might I have yet to convince my nearest and dearest that there is no such thing as a floor-drobe. On this occasion I am talking about the streets of my neighbourhood.
It is the annual council kerbside collection week where we are invited to put out our large unwanted items and a large truck will come and take them away (if the scavengers don't get there first).
At the moment the footpaths are a sea of fitness equipment which never lived up to its promise, televisions which were replaced by even larger screens and old saggy couches. This year everyone seems to have invested in a new bed and old mattresses are the item of choice to dispose of in 2013.
Don't get me wrong, this is an awesome service offered by council but not a very good look in the short term. No pain, no gain, as they say. Coincidentally, today is also my first staff meeting for the year where there is also likely to be a lot of rubbish of another type which needs to be dealt with. Yet another of life's necessary evils. Best I spring into action. Hang around much longer and I am likely to be confused with something destined to be compacted by the council truck.

February 4. Day 35. A duck out of water

Many mothers think I'm crazy when I say I love school holidays. I especially love them when I'm on holidays too. It's such a balancing act the working mother business.
For the most part you just get on and do it because, frankly, what else are you going to do?
But trying to do the best by your family, your employer and yourself is a test I'm telling you.
After the long, long summer break the routine is gone and truth be told we are all struggling a bit in my household to get it back - I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who feels not only like a duck out of water but without a leg to stand on.
As the rhetorical question goes "does a one legged duck swim round in circles?"
To be fair, this duck I photographed at the Roma Street Parklands this morning has two legs. It has just chosen to take one up under its wing. There's a second leg there when the situation calls for it.
So hopefully I will soon stop feeling like I'm swimming round and round in circles. Fortunately there are plenty around me I can always rely on to take me under their wings for a bit until that happens.

February 3. Day 34. Buzz off

They're back. The game of Susan versus the wasps has resumed.
Let's get this clear. For the most part I let all creatures great and small go about their business without any interference - even wasps.
But this lot or their nearest and dearest have an obsession of setting up nest on my front fence right near the gate and the letterbox.
Until they start paying the mortgage or at least paying rent that's not on. They can buzz off. There are a million other places on my property they can go. That space is mine and I shall get all territorial about it.
So first the long lens and then the big stick (the very big stick because I have a quite reasonable fear of getting stung).
I'm giving this round to Susan. The flying stingers have gone. We'll see how long it lasts before they declare a rematch.

February 2. Day 33. I can see clearly now

Why do we have to keep reinventing the wheel? Years of experience has taught me me the following:
1) I feel much better if I exercise every day and
2) If I don't exercise first thing in the morning it probably won't happen because "life" will get in the way. By afternoon I will be too tired or too busy or simply had too much time to work up an excuse not to do it.
But this week has been anything but routine what with flooding, back to school, back to work and no telephone or Internet access to the outside world for days on end the routine went out the window.
And so did the morning exercise. Some days it happened later, others not so much.
Yesterday was a "rest" day and by last night I was feeling really flat and couldn't work out why.
Like I said even though this is a theory I have put to the test many a time I can be a very slow learner.
This morning there were no excuses. The storm that blew through last night had left everything clean, fresh and clear  and while I can't claim that I exactly sprang into action I was out the door by just after 6.
Three hours later I returned tired, hungry and happy. The storm brewing in my head seems to have blown over and I can see (and think) clearly now the rain has gone.
I know nothing about flowers however I'm pretty sure the one I photographed not far from home isn't a daisy - but it looks fresh as after the rain so let's go with that.

February 1. Day 32. Moth-eaten

Striking little fellow, isn't he?
I think he is too attractive to be a moth but the genius that is social media tells me this is the Two Spot Tiger  Moth.
It seems rather fitting that I would find my eye drawn to this insect today rather like a moth to a flame.
It was day one back at work for the year and by 2pm I really needed a little lie down. Truth is I felt a little moth-eaten where the definition is decayed or worn out and not more literal meaning of having been eaten or damaged by the larvae of moths.
The first couple of days after a break are always such a struggle aren't they?
By next week I won't even remember I've had time off therefore it must be time to plan my next holiday. Only 326 days until Christmas (yes, I am counting actually).