Marching out of March

Here we are again at the end of another month. The chocolate festival has passed and we’re back to a full five day week. But don’t despair: choir is starting in two weeks; there’s a conference in Sydney coming up; and dry season has started (officially, as in, according to meteorologists and everything).

So, Easter: I spent the first two days recovering from a cold, lazing around the house and reading Gone with the Wind. I finally finished it on Easter Saturday night. Hurrah, hurroo! Sunday brought Erica and Dean from the South, and we have a fantabulous time ‘chilling’ in the pool, catching up on goss (oh, the goss!) and enjoying Katherine in all its glory. Post-Egg-Day Picnic at Low Level by the Katherine River; Erica Ordinary’s debut performance at one of the local taverns. And I do believe E&D even enjoyed themselves, despite the lack of the much hankered for last-night-in-town piss up.

We had a couple of showers last week – the knock-em-down rains. Many blades of spear grass, which was as tall as me, is standing crooked and forlorn, snapped by the weight of massive rain drops pelted from a great hight. These are the last rains of the wet, signalling the dry. We are now in for months of clear blue sky, days of 28~30°C, nights just crisp enough to warrant long legged pyjamas, and we might occasionally wear long pants, closed-toe shoes, or even socks!

Remind me to water the tomato plant…

It is a truth universally acknowledged...

...that a single girl in possession of a large book collection must be in want of a life. But instead she opted to pay the book lovers’ society of her choice squillions of dollars and expanded her collection. After all, she lived in a small country town where exciting things were afoot every other weekend. The excitement of life seemed to seek her out, and she relished the stolen few minutes here and there when she would snatch a few more words, paragraphs, pages of a treasured tome. Why, just this morning she had left Scarlett Hamilton (nee O’Hara) toiling over the saintly Melanie’s labour pains……

But, I digress. Life in Katherine has been a whirlwind of visitors since last we spoke. The two solid weeks’ stay of work’s fabulous and newest recruit (delayed on her way to Ngukurr due to the inequitable levels of rivers to roads) was peppered with visits from people up from Kalkarindji, down from Darwin, people going down to Kalkarindji from Darwin, sleep overs from Jilkminggan, and Southern guests up for a taste of NT relaxation. In addition to this, a rogue Mexican has taken up residence for a couple of weeks; however, he makes excellent coffee, so he can stay till the weekend.

We were going to have an Irish guest for the St Paddy’s day weekend, but she got a better offer, so we’ll be indulging in a little ‘sog time’ – possibly in front of the BBC’s definitive Pride and Prejudice. Our systems are in need of purging after sitting through a whole 2hrs of Kira Knighly’s breastlessness and Judy Dench’s disappointing deBurgh. (Though Darcy did get a little more ruggedly handsome with a second viewing… *smoulder*)

It has rained a lot. The waters of the Katherine flowed around 4m last Saturday. By Sunday, less than 24hrs later, the watermark was lapping half way up 11. But be not alarmed compadres! No one starts worrying around these here parts till the water hits at least 16.

In the mean time, I’ve been recovering from a cold, exacerbating my insomnia with Gone with the Wind, and rescuing baby green tree frogs from my bedroom (I have no idea how they get in there, but they’re sooo cute!)

Anyway, bed and book are calling me, so I’ll bid you adieu with my latest Kira Knightly impression: