Dirty pretty things.

.
My neglecting this blog for so long is a total disgrace. That little bit of space floating around in the around cyber-realm that belongs to me and my surprising adventures must feel quite abandoned.

Forgive me world wide web, for you have tolerated my lackadaisical approach to blog writing for way too long. I shall--with this post at least-- address my woeful neglect.

It turns out that there is not all that much of interest to write about here. Back in Tampa there was always some new place to visit: galleries, museums, beach-side cafes, beautiful views, you get the picture.

In Northern Idaho life is a lot less glittering. I am always busy with this or that: work, study, copy editing, planting, lawn mowing --all 8 bleeding acres of it--weeding and whatnot. Boring I know.

I do get to enjoy panoramic views, a bucolic existence and see majestic wildlife on a daily basis, but that is just not the stuff thrilling and interesting blogs are made of. Sadly, my poor sister in Australia who would read my blog to catch up on my ex-pat adventures, is bombarded with pictures of bears, trees, mountains and the odd flower; instead of fancy hotels and trendy restaurants.

In this post I will try to liven things up a bit. Yes, there is a picture of our new ATVs, I cannot ignore the country stuff completely, but there are some pictures of new baubles just to bring back some fance my dears.

The ATVs are completely cool. Mine is the blue one, I named it Psycho Paul after a crazy character from the TV show Ideal. The Colonel has called his vehicle: The Crunch.

Dirty things

I recently bought an amazing black onyx and gold ring that is very sleek and cosmopolitan from the Italian gold by Stefano Collection.

Pretty things.

Kenneth Jay Lane makes some beautiful Lucite danglers that I just had to have. They are enormous but light and I hear they were featured in the first Sex and the City movie. I have not seen the film, but hope that it having been worn in a film does not mean that every Carrie copy-cat has a pair. Well, let's be real, the folk in my town hardly go in for the whole fancy schmancy thing so I need not worry.

More pretty things

I hate Knick-knacks, but this rotund little glass bird was so sweet and porky, I had to buy him. How cute is he?

Speaking of birds, I rescued one today. It had flown into my front door and I think it was in shock. I nursed it until it opened it's little eyes and started to look better. When trying to get it near the water and food I had placed on the patio, my dog promptly stepped in and killed it, what a sad little circumstance. I rescued one a few weeks ago only for my cat to step in and kill it. Perhaps I should stop trying to rescue small birds, it seems to end very badly for them.
.

Waterworld

.

We had heavy rains all day in Tampa today, causing the street in front of my house to flood.

The ditch next the house was overflowing. In Florida that can mean aligators, hope none show up and eat my cats, but some of those bothersome neighbourhood kids won't be missed. By me at least.

Ditch next to my house.

Crazy ADD boy from up the street was frolicking in the dirty water despite being yelled at and called home. No one came out to get him though, amazing. He was running around unfettered in the street diving into the water on the road and in the ditch, what a filthy little urchin. Some kids just need to be medicated!

My neighbour and his kids on the ATV, they can't be seen behind the wall of water. That's ADD boy in front.


The house can now go on the market as waterfront property, literally. The neighbours were carousing up and down the street on their ATV, what a lot of fun, I need to get one of those.

The Colonel making a splash!

More news from nowhere.

The surprising adventures continue. The Colonel and I just returned from a week long trip to Idaho where we looked at various properties for sale in the quest to find our new abode. I can't wait to leave Florida. The weather has turned nasty and will stay this way for 7 months or more. It's hot and humid, morning, noon and night. The humidity is great for my skin, but that's about it.


The trip out there was quite excruciating. The flight was overbooked, as usual the airlines mess us poor travelling folk around, calling for volunteers to give up their seat on the plane. That really cheeses me off.

I dislike the way people, when travelling, act like a flock of sheep. In their compact seats, looking at nothing most of the time, staring at the back of the seat or towards anyone who dares to move. It's horrid being at the front of the plane, getting up to give one's aching posterior a rest, only to see HUNDREDS of pairs of beady little eyes staring. It's quite disconcerting and you can forget about pulling out the grundies that have disappeared into one's nether regions.

I once pretended to be having an Ebola style coughing fit on a plane just so that no-one would sit next to me. Some joker sat down just as I burst into a particularly offensive volley of coughing, sounding as though I were bringing up a lung. Sitting next to me is more crazy than a person who pretends they have Ebola just to get some extra room. Or is it?

Idaho is beautiful. We stayed in a place called Sandpoint. There is a skiing resort there, beautiful lakes, friendly people and even great food. There was this one magnificent Lake that even reminded me of the beautiful Lake Como. The difference is that in Italy they build grand villa's around the lake and beautiful homes. In Idaho, there are moribund shacks on the lake front, with a junk yard for a garden, filled with broken down cars, tractors and so on. Not so much around Sandpoint, as it's a very trendy arty community, but move away from there and one goes into Texas chainsaw massacre country.

We followed our intrepid friend on a 3 hour drive to a house we wanted to see. As we drove away from Sandpoint the terrain became very much like that in Victoria. Undulating hills, cows grazing, fields growing crops. It was just like a country drive back home, with one unique factor, the massive number of derelict farm houses and barns, curious and rather lugubrious buildings in various states of disrepair. It is fascinating, even quaint at first, then after seeing so many it becomes disturbing. Add to this the pastiche of broken down cars, tractors, and car parts scattered seemingly randomly.

We reached an area in the vicinity of the property we were looking for. Driving up steep, gravel roads we saw house after house that looked quite shabby with junk yards surrounding them and in quite remote locations. Our Realtor stopped to ask a farmer working on his tractor for directions. I thought this was a bad move. I started to hum the tune of the 'Dueling Banjos' from the movie Deliverance. I was sure this moment was going to end with the words, 'Squeal like a pig'.

Fortunately, we were not lured into the barn only to find a big guy with a chainsaw waiting. The farmer, after giving the directions said, 'Be careful you could get shot going up there.' He insisted he was serious in response to the Realtor's nervous laugh. That really did nothing to assuage my fears of impending doom. I have seen horror movies that begin like this. Being the pusillanimous weakling that I am, I immediately insisted we turn back and be grateful we escaped with our lives before running into Ivan Milat's US cousin out there.

The Colonel had his trusted hand gun and assured me that we would, 'Go down fighting' and that it would be a two-way range. Did that make me feel any more safe? NO.

We visited one property up near that mountains that was also quite good but with a hefty price tag. The house was nice, if one can look past all the stuffed animals filling up the place. It was like a museum of natural history. I can't imagine being alone in there at night or trying to watch a spot of telly with all those glassy eyes staring into space. I am not as afraid of stuffed animals as I am of manniquins though, that fear is almost pathological. Can I blame that one on ADHD or is it just strangeness?

When I first walked in, I saw a mezzanine level with a stuffed small bear leaning over the top of the railing. I stupidly thought they had a pet bear, A blonde moment, until it was pointed out to me that the bear was 'stuffed'. How indignified an end for such a magnificent beast, and how embarrasing a gaffe for Chichi.

Stuffed Mountain Goat, http://www.billingtonranchtaxidermy.com/_MountainGoat01.jpg

The front room was large with a clear story. I looked up to see HUGE moose heads mounted on the wall. Unsettling but I had seen Moose heads in just about every house we visited. I turned around and in one corner, mounted about halfway up the wall was a huge mountain goat. It was standing on some rock feature, looking down at us. I hate goats even when alive. They have devil eyes, truly they do. Next to it was some kind of wolverine creature. The whole room had stuffed animals all over it. It was macabre. Even the kitchen had a puma over the doorway and a whole host of deceased critters, littered all over the house. The Colonel and our two Realtors thought it was all very impressive, while I was trying not to be sick or run from the house screaming.

The owner of the house told us that his wife had shot most of them. How charming. I didn't meet the little lady and am grateful for that. I feared that I might be shot and stuffed and stuck up on the wall as an exotic species.

Look out Idaho, Countess Chichi is coming to town.