A Christmas Tree Down Under in July

 Temperatures are "chilling", Perth-ites are shivering, and it's still 6 months until the next holiday. (No Thanksgiving!) It's winter and even with no snow it has felt like it should be Christmas. So what better way to warm up a winter night than with Christmas in July.

It's no 12 Pains of Christmas (Rae Rae productions style), but...

On the 26th day of July my Aussie "family" sent to me...

12 Friends a smiling

11 Stockings hanging

10 Cookies decorating

Ok, there may be 11. And these creatively decorated cookies provided an opening point of conversation.

9 (+44) shots of "jelly"

8 slices warm Christmas pudding (with custard!)

7 cans of VB

6 Flipflop coasters

Yankee swap!

5 Glowstick rings

4 Mustaches rocking

3 Paper snowflakes

2 Footy Teams

The Hawthorn-Sydney match could have been the highlight of the night for some of these footy fans.

and a Christmas tree down under in July!!!

And after the dishes had been scrubbed, the cans been stacked, and the leftovers stowed, I had relaxed and admired the flicker of the candlelight twinkle of the tree. And in the the silence (or close to silence as I do live in the city with buses and cars driving by), it almost felt like I was back at Pheasant Run, in my Merry Grinchmas PJs, staring out onto the moonlit snow and listening for the jingling bells of Santa and his reindeer.

Merry Christmas in July to all and to all a good night!

A Frozen Winter Wonderland

Here in the southern hemisphere we are in the dead of winter.

Here's this week's forecast for Perth. 

It is hardly winter by my definition. I did my shopping in shorts last weekend. But you would never know it by the way the locals dress, geared up in gloves, hats and scarves. It's perfect t-shirt and shorts running weather and people are in running tights, sweats, and hats. Seriously?! Perth-ites don't deal with the cold very well.

That is why it is all the more amusing that this year, in an attempt to embrace winter and all it's "frozen-ness" (yes, I have recently seen Frozen), Perth had an outdoor ice rink.

Set up in Northbridge, in the ampitheater outside the state library (not far from silent disco), is the tiniest ice rink I have seen. It ran from the beginning of July until last Sunday. Complete with skate rentals, it lured all sorts from hockey players to newbies who may have never seen ice before outside of the freezer (it doesn't get below freezing here in chilly Perth).

For eight dollars (or should I say dollas?), you could rent a penguin to keep you on your feet. These were taken advantage of by all sorts. There was the adult woman, with her look of determination saying "I will not fall down and I WILL learn to skate", that spent the entire 45 minutes gripping on and doing laps. Then there was the teenage clown who used it to start a train.

But mostly, as expected, it was used as intended by children who were just the right size. Like this girl, who was starting a moonwalk ice skating trend where she moves her feet and goes nowhere.

With and without penguins, there were lots of people hitting the ice. (Reminds me of that time with Testudo on the ice at Maryland ;)).

This dad took out his daughter with her "training" skates, after which he stuck close to the rail.

The guy on the right in the white jacket was the "cool" kid who brought his own skates and thought he would show off weaving in and out of the 100 people in a 10 by 10 meter space (I just made those numbers up but you get the point).

But my favorite was this little boy. Who I saw fall at least 5 times, but along with his parents (who could have been vying for Parents of the Year), dusted him off, had a laugh and kept on scootin'.

But these talented ladies never fell down, though they also didn't attempt any triple lutzes or break any speed skating records. And Amanda, a fellow Northern hemisphere-ite and Wisconsin-er, got to celebrate her July birthday in the middle of "winter" (followed by a trip to the beach the next day, because after all we are still in Perth).

 

Photoshoot with a borrowed Penguin

No ice skating could be complete without fire and hot chocolate and a little Christmas cheer. And this winter wonderland didn't disappoint. Even if it is July.

It is almost Christmas in July...

No Beer Here

This is a listening blog. A phonetics lesson. If you can't listen, just stop now.

A little while ago, I received this message from an Australian in the US for the first time:

Until then, I hadn't paid that much attention. How do Australians say two?  So I listened. I tried saying it myself. Yes. Australians say it differently. (But it doesn't sound like three.)

Since then, I've been paying extra close attention to the "funny" way Australians pronounce words. They've got some words I've never heard, but sometimes they're saying a word I know, but it sounds unfamiliar. Turns out, it's predominantly a vowel thing. And an "r" thing. Vowels are longer and "r's" don't exist.

"Here" become hee-a.

"Dollar" becomes dolla. This fact made my observation of a Year 2 primary school lesson in money very amusing listening to 30 seven year-olds say "dolla, dolla, dolla". It's also fun hearing seven year-olds refer to erasers as "rubbas")

My absolute favorite word of the month has become "no". Long "o" sounds become two syllables. Like na-ow. Whether it's a 3 year old, 27 year-old, I grin and repeat it in my best Aussie accent (which I can't do AT ALL). Kyla and I had a post-lunch conversation that sounded a bit like this, "Naow", "No", "Naow", "No", "Nooooo".

Put it all together and "no beer here" translated into Aussie speak = Naow bee-a hee-ya.

I blame mispronunciations for confusion between Australian and American (yes, I just delineated two separate languages). For example, Kyla and I were debating whether you "putter around" or "potter around". I thought I was stealing "putter around" from Kyla's vocabulary as my new favourite description for a lazy day at home doing small things around the house, while the whole time she has been saying "potter" around. According to wiktionary, one is just an alternative form of the other because an American heard an Aussie say "potter" and interpreted it as "putter" or vice versa. I will also blame my confusion between "rock up" and "ruck up" on phonetics.

And apparently (though I deny it), I say things "funny" too. Since I've moved here, "Curtin" and "important" have been the targets of my "accent". I cut out the sharp "t" apparently. But if I pronounce it in "American" without an Aussie or British accent, I sound like a tool. I just can't win.

This following custom-made clip from a real live Australian explains it all. You HAVE to listen to it.

Or follow this link https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/5189181/No%20Beer%20Here.mp3

Need a translation? It's been 10 months, but I've figured out what most of those words (boot, ute, doona, blue, servo, bogan) mean but still get caught off-guard now and again.

 

Funny thing is, that's how people talk over hee-ya, way down unda.

PS. Thanks to Western Red for his voice and audio production talents. And if you like what you hee-ya, check out his radio show, Sunday, @10:30 am EST or his podcast, If That Ain't Country any time.

Small Town Saturday Night

 

I love the city of Perth. I smile every day I cycle home and see the blues and greens of the skyline across the river set in front of the warm orange and red sunset. The bustle of weekend shoppers in the CBD, the gypsy circus right now in Langley Park, the smattering of kebabs, curries and sashimi, and the live music (and even a little bit of duff duff) in Northbridge.  But what's even better about Perth is it's city energy is only 12 km from unspoilt Western Australian beaches, and over the hill to the country wheat belt.

This weekend had me on an adventure to Toodyay. This town is pronounced Two-jay. Yeah, don't ask me. But we headed off into the hills on Toodyay Road, through Gidgegannup, until we ran into this quintessential Australian town on the Avon River.

The town was bustling on a weekend morning, with the option for kangaroo sausage tasting.

But I had to try WA's best meat pies.

 I had the Currie pie. Yum! Close to the best, but I'm not willing to concede my judging finished quite yet.

We met one "youthful" woman who lived on a farm with no neighbors in Toodyay. How'd she end up there? Her and her husband put a compass on Perth and drew a 100km radius around Perth. They then drove along that circle until they found a place, far from suburbia but within an easy drive to city life, and ended up in Toodyay. They haven't looked back since.

Why were we there you may ask?

 

Dance night was in the original memorial hall, and I'd say the crowd wasn't much younger.

Some of you may know I like to dance. AND I like to country line dance. AND I've been on the hunt to find a place in Perth to line dance. We might have had to travel a bit and bring the average age of the crowd down by about 40 years, but I found it! Even if you can't see them, there is a group of about 10 65+ maybe even 70+ boot scootin' line dancing.

It was quite the boot tappin', guitar strummi' Small Town Saturday Night...

Rockin' the Suburbs

Cities don't do it for me. Interesting things are found beyond the city block grids. So even though I only have two days of sightseeing in Sydney, I hopped on the double decker train to see what I could see. 

Despite the rainy weather, I couldn't miss out on Sydney's iconic Bondi Beach. If you ever find yourself in Sydney, don't be fooled. Bondi Junction train stop does not equal Bondi Beach. There's some walking involved, but someone once told me walking was good for you...

There's a TV program here called Bondi Rescue that shows the perils of the populated beach that's known for rips and freak waves. Seems pretty quiet to me!

One of greater Sydney's top tourist attractions is the cliff walk. This 3 km path winds along remarkable limestone coastal cliffs.

Not to mention that it goes past the sweetest swimming pool I have EVER seen! That may actually make swimming laps enjoyable...

 

Sydney is also known for its ferry system. So I hopped on one of the ferries to the iconic beach suburb of Manly and just walked. I started at the beach, where the surfers speckled the water. 

I then joined all the young moms with their stollers and followed the boardwalk to the rock pools. 

I then ditched the strollers to the cliffs where I found the quintessential Australian nomad back form a morning surf. 

I then wandered to the old North Fort from World War II and Royal Australian Artillery National Museum to Northhead for spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean and Sydney harbour.

 On the way back to town, I wandered into the old Quarantine station cemetery where victims of the bubonic plaque and the nurses watching over them watch over the city.

Then on some tired legs, it was back to the port for some well deserved ice cream and a ferry ride back to the city.

Sydney is a clean and beautiful international city that has carved an irrevocable place on the world stage. But in my small opinion, the magic and beauty of Australia lies beyond the bitumen in the red dirt bush where there are no Starbucks (or any other wanky coffee shop) in sight.