I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon.
I’m pleased you enjoyed my beautiful city SandraLynn. Kings Park is gorgeous at any time of the year, but in spring especially. Our spring starts in September so you’ll have to get back on that old treadly again.
I burst right out laughing and my family gave me one of those raised eyebrow looks as I read your carbon nuetral activity. I'm with you about not liking a helmet, I want to feel the wind in my hair.
I'm getting a huge dose of sand swallowing here today. It's very windy here in the desert. It feels like glass cutting your skin. I didn't last long outside. I watered and came immediately back inside.
I'm glad you're joining us, dinner and drinks will be quite relaxing tonight. Apparently the Aussies don't drink as much tequila as the Mexicans do on Cinco de Maya.
Gosh sorry you missed the train. I hate it when that happens but you are here now. Yippie! ha ha poor Opal. I knew one girl named Opal and she had an October birthday like me.
Day 5 Outback Australia: Oh, stretch, yawn. I survived my first night in a sleeper car. It felt kinda strange to be both rocked and jostled into slumber. Thank goodness for strong, fresh coffee. I need to be wide awake today. The train slid to a dusty halt in an outback post known as Manguri. This is where I disembarked, in the desert. Not much for the eyes to focus on in the distance, but a blue horizon.I checked to make sure my shoe laces were tied. This us not flip flop country. I ventured into an opal mining town, Coober Pedy, pronounced close to Petey. Legend had it that this Aboriginal name means white man in a hole . Many of the residents shelter from the harsh sun and extreme heat within homes created underground. They moved sand and stone to build their dug outs burrowed into sandstone hills. I noticed the air shafts dotting the ground in groupings that resembled chimneys. I also noted the sand everywhere. This is just the place for a klutz like me. There are mounds of sand, tufts of hard scrabble greenery, loose sand, and a plethora of unmarked holes that are most likely mine shafts. Yes, the DANGER signs are prominent, but my feet do not read or obey signs. I toured a few of the down under homes and they look quite comfy. Some have walls marbled with opalesque stone. These people are resilient and ingenious to forge living space in this desolate desert. I visited the underground bookstore, too. I found the shafts gloomy and claustrophobic. I do not relish toiling under ground. I sifted through loose piles of sand seeking an opal. Whoo, this is tedious work. I indulged in a purchase of some shiny opals when my search only yielded sweat and dust. This is my daughter-in-law's birthstone. Won't she be surprised to receive a fresh one. Did I mention the sand and the unrelenting sun? I believe my squint is becoming squintier. I worked up a thirst just staring at the dry landscape. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the down under lunch. This is a first for me, dining in a cool cavern. I sampled a ginger beer. I could barely keep my eyes open when I returned to The Ghan. What a contrast between its luxury and the desert. I indulged in a night cap only to hear everyone's version of today. Even with bleary blinkers, I enjoyed the night scape of blazing stars.
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