BREAKFAST WITH LONESOME

When I pick up my cup of coffee to begin my day, I think of Lonesome, an Emu we met while visiting Australia where curious Koalas stared at us wondering what sort of creatures these fur-less strangers were, fur seals ignored us--and snoozed in the sun and kangaroos, as friendly as puppies gathered around. A short ferry ride, on the Sealink, across the Backstairs Passage, brought my husband and I to Kangaroo Island. Lonesome, the Emu, yearned for friendship and his own egg to sit on. He lives at the Emu ridge Eucalyptus Oil distillery, where the oil distilled from a multi-stemmed tree called the Narrow-Leaf Mallee produces the Bush product used as an insect repellent, stain remover, disinfectant, flea-remover, antiseptic and mouthwash. For reasons known only to his fellow Emus, Lonesome is ignored making it difficult for him to father the egg, paternal Emus are born to sit on. We were given a bottle of eucalyptus and I bought the mug with Lonesome's likeness. We chatted awhile and listened to the guide tell Lonesome's story as he scratched his feathered head. he seemed like a charming bird to me but I guess he lacked that certain something a female Emu looks for in a future mate. romance can be difficult.

I greet him everyday as I add a teaspoon of sugar, and a few drop of milk to my coffee. Hope he finally found the right mate.

Bests, Elise

DR.BLAKE, BALLARAT AND ME

   

    Began watching The Dr. Blake Mysteries, a series presented by Australian television, that may be seen in New York on PBS-Channel 21. While I enjoy the stories, the characters and, certainly, Dr. Blake’s detecting, I’m hooked because it brings back memories of a side-trip to Ballarat, a town-sixty-nine miles northwest of Melbourne—a town where the good doctor practices medicine, acts as coroner and catches the lawless.

     My husband and I took a vacation to Sidney and Melbourne—our third trip to Australia. The first trip to see where my husband’s father grew up. The second and third because we fell in love with the country. On the third trip we boarded a mini-bus that jerked, joggled and bumped along the way to Ballarat’s Sovereign Hill. A historically accurate, living museum, built on the site of the original gold diggings that gave birth to the town in the 1850s during the state of Victoria’s gold rush. I became fascinated by the stories of its rough and tumble goldfields from 1851 until 1916.

     James Regan, stopped at Ballarat, discovered gold at Poverty Point, down the road from Sovereign Hill, and the “rush,” was on. Men left their jobs in Melbourne and Geelong, the Port Phillip District lost eighty percent of its police force. Ex-convicts and military pensionaries filled the void. The government of Victoria tried to discourage the exodus of workers and sent commissioners to collect a fee of 30 shillings for a monthly permit. That led to clashes between the diggers and the government. A digger who refused to pay the fee could be fined L10 and chained to a log—there were no jails. By 1852, over 20,000 hopefuls had arrived to try their luck. Non-British immigrants created anxiety, Americans were thought to be armed desperadoes.

     I decide to try my luck at the Red Hill Gully Diggings but the only gold I saw was the mud-gold stain on my cold, wet hands and learned the only women in Ballarat were “Fallen Angels” or women who could hold their own: women who fought, chopped wood and survived the primitive conditions. Women did not have to purchase a license.

     Ballarat became a township in 1852, businessmen set up shops, wives joined their husbands, religious services were held on Sunday in a tent made of canvas and wood; the tent doubled as a school on weekdays. The Victoria Theatre, on Main Road, attracted stars who performed Shakespeare and performers like Lola Montez who entertained miners with her erotic “Spider Dance.” Many a nugget was thrown on stage. The founding editor of the Ballarat Times criticized Lola. Lola attacked him with a whip. Fortunes were made.

    Today, fossickers regularly pan for alluvial gold on the outskirts of Ballarat. Visitors may explore the remains of old mines. My hubby and I did not strike gold but I did write an article titled Welcome to Ballarat that was published in Gold Prospectors Magazine. That’s a nugget any writer will treasure.

BESTS,

Elise


"Scene Stealer" is available wherever eBooks are sold. My short story titled, "A Mouthful of Murder," will be published as part of a "Cosy" Crime Anthology to be published in hard-cover by Flame Tree Press in January 2019.


Barnes & Noble

MELBOURNE'S TRAMS

 

 MELBOURNE’S TRAMS

Thought about a trip my husband and I took to Melbourne several years ago. A complimentary ride on Melbourne’s City Circle introduced us to a city famous for its network of trams. Wide streets, tree-lined boulevards, gardens and history awaited us as we traveled along Flinders Street in a colorful burgundy tram with gold and cream trim

The city’s first horse trams began on a suburban line in 1884; cable trams were initiated one year later. In 1889, electric trams took over and the City Circle Line has served tourists and city residents since 1936.

We spot the City Circle logo and board at Treasury Gardens; the oldest in Melbourne.  Directly to the rear is Fitzroy Gardens and Captain James Cook’s Cottage commemorating the English navigator, his life and his voyages in the southern hemisphere.

The next stop is the Gold Treasury Museum; we’re interested in its permanent collection Built on Gold. Eight of the vaults that stored the gold bullion now show how Victoria’s precious metal fashioned Melbourne’s destiny—the diggings, bush rangers who attacked the diggers on their journey to Melbourne to sell nuggets or dust, buyers working the fields who offered diggers a lower price than banks and bullion merchants and escort troops who charged one shilling per ounce of gold.

By switching to Tram No.16 at Swanton Street and St. Kilda Road, visitors may travel to the Shrine of Remembrance—a memorial completed in 1934—dedicated to men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice to preserve freedom. A climb to the top of the complex is rewarded with magnificent views of Melbourne’s skyline. Tram No.16 also carries beach lovers to St. Kilda where Melbourne’s citizens walk and cycle along the palm lined shore, sit at outdoor cafés, and gaze at Port Phillip Bay’s panoramic scenes.

Back on the City Circle Tram the following day, we arrived at Melbourne’s Aquarium where Giant Sharks and Sting Rays reside in a 2.2 million litre oceanarium then onward to La Trobe Street where Flagstaff Gardens is located on the highest sector of land in the city. A shiver of fear attacks when we stop at the Old Melbourne Gaol, the site of 135 hangings between 1842 and 1929 including that of infamous bush ranger Ned Kelly.

  

The tram turns on Spring Street where the Princess Theatre home welcomes generations of theatre goers, luminaries and ghosts. Notably, the ghost of the baritone “Frederici,” who died of a heart attack while performing Mephistopheles in Gounod’s opera Faust; another shiver when I learn he returned to take his bow.

We wait for Tram No. 55 on Elizabeth Street; the tram will deposit us at the Queen Victoria Market. More than 1000 stalls offer meat, fish, bakery products, fruit, vegetables and an abundance of general merchandise and knick-knacks. Cafes are close to the Queen Victoria and Sundays a wine market is in residence.

This is the second century of electric trams in Melbourne; it provided us a delightful and inexpensive overview of Melbourne and the inner suburbs. 

Bests,

Elise

LITTLE DEVIL

Fierce and ugly, with forty-two needle-sharp teeth by the age of two, the terrier-sized Tasmanian Devil is not the most loved of Australia’s marsupials. But on a visit to the Tasmanian Devil Park and Wildlife Rescue Center in the Port Arthur region of Tasmania, Australia, my husband and I met a little Devil that the unwary might find as cuddly as a plush toy.
The jet-black, course-furred, eight-month old was an orphan being raised in the park’s nursery; this carnivore’s sleepy appearance gives him a look of complete innocence. A triangle of white accents his hindquarters and matches a strip across his chest; dark eyes and pink ears complete the picture. Born blind and deaf, young Devils called “Joeys,” have bad eyesight and flash photos are forbidden. Lactose intolerant, infants are fed special formulas to keep them healthy. It takes about forty weeks to wean a baby and Joeys are encouraged to drink from bowls as soon as possible. At about five and one-half months they begin to teeth and chew on bony shin bits.
A loner, the Devil begins to breed by the age of two; the female visits the male den for a interlude of about two weeks in March and the blessed event takes place about three weeks later. At birth, the Devil has been described as being the size of a jellybean. Up to thirty “Jelly beans” try to make their way to their mother’s backward-styled pouch; nature’s way of ensuring that dirt doesn’t enter when mom is tearing into carrion. Since there are just four teats in the pouch only three or four survive. The Joeys latch onto mother’s milk teats for about three months then they’re left in their grass and leaf lined den – a cave, a hollow log or an old wombat burrow – while mom forages for food. Later, they may hitch a ride on her back or follow along behind. Though they achieve independence by twenty-eight weeks and are agile enough to climb a tree, many never reach maturity as predators often attack them. At night, these nocturnal creatures usually meander along secondary roads looking for road-kill; unfortunately automobiles often hit them as they feast on a diet of wallaby, rodents or lizards. A Devil, fortunate enough to survive the hazards Devils face, may reach the age of six to eight years.
Grown Devils feed at 11:00 am; the former jelly bean now has a broad head, reminiscent of a bear, a muzzle with long whiskers and a squat body with a short, thick tail and back paws with four toes. Devils enjoy nothing so much as a good fight or chase around the enclosure; when angry their pink ears turn red with increased blood flow. Weighing anywhere from nine to twenty-six pounds, they’re particularly aggressive when it comes to food. Snorts, whistles, growls, screeches and demonic screams, worthy of a Stephen King horror movie, rend the air when a Devil protects its find or a competitor ignores the challenge of a sharp sneeze. An overwrought Devil emits a pungent odor only a deodorant manufacturer would enjoy. Often a Devil will sport scars or missing patches of fur earned in combat. Endowed with the strongest jaws and teeth of any animal, nothing edible goes to waste when this marsupial devours carrion or prey. The Tasmanian Devils at the Park are either orphans or have been bred here. Females and their young are kept separate from the males who exhibit no paternal pride in their offspring and would make a happy meal of them.
Fossils have been found all over Australia, but living Devils are found only in Tasmania, having lost a battle over the same food supply favored by the Dingo, a wild dog brought to the mainland by the Indigenous People over 600-years ago. The Dingo never crossed the 150-mile Bass Strait that separates the Island of Tasmania from the southeastern mainland and here, the Devil survives.
A rough period for Devils began in 1830—farmers considered them a nuisance as they ate livestock and poultry. Van Dieman’s Land Company paid a bounty of twenty-five cents for males and thirty-five cents for females and many a Devil was poisoned or caught in a trap. It wasn’t until June 1941, that Devils came under the protection of the law. Today they are a symbol of the Tasmanian National Parks and Wildlife Service and farmers realize they have a place in the food chain; they clean up the carrion that would pollute the land and prey on mice and other pests that consume agricultural produce. NOTE: Since our visit, the Tasmanian population has been devastated by a facial tumor disease sweeping through the population. The disease kills more than 90% of young adults in high density areas and is spread through biting. Australian scientists and medical personnel are doing their best to find a cure and keep the Devil from extinction.

Bests,
Elise
My eBook mystery titled Scene Stealer is available through Barnes&Noble, Amazon, Carina Press and wherever eBooks are sold. An audio version has been produced by audible.com

January

The Big Apple has slush on the corners, pools of water waiting for someone to slip and rims of ice decorating the outer edges of the sidewalk. At times I long for spring to come quickly-in a sense wishing my life away. Usually I enjoy the four seasons but this winter is a doozy.

I dream of other countries-vacations in warm, relaxing lands. Sorrento with its orange and lemon trees, Amalfi with its homes perched high in the clouds-all dressed in summery ice cream colors. The other side of the world-Australia-the tropical rain forest with birds that are foreign to me flaunting brilliant feathers and crocodiles lifting their long, tapering snouts from the water in a phoney grin. Kangeroos of every size and shape some willing to be stroked and koala bears suffering the hugs of a tourist. Greece with its antiquities where the mind can rove back to another time and the beginnings of culture. London-just as cold as my city until you step into a theatre and marvel at the plays and actors. The applause warms the heart as well as the hands.

Until I can visit once more I settle for comfort food-tomato soup sprinkled with basil, cheese sandwiches and a hot mug of Columbian coffee.