It's almost Autumn here. I can feel it. And besides which, the calender states that Autumn is due to begin this coming Sunday, 1st March. Our seasons, are, apparently, somewhat unique. For over here, in this Great Southern Land, our seasons last exactly three months each. For example, Autumn goes from 1st March - 31st May.
Every. Single. Year.
Winter, the season I was born in, goes from 1st June - 31st August, with Spring right after it. The only season that has changeable days is Summer because it finishes in February, and so every four years, our Summer is one day longer.
Now, I've grown up with this system, so it's normal to me, but in a conversation recently with an overseas friend, they seemed rather surprised by our system. They thought it a tad ludicrous that we have, as they put it, "regimented seasons". But it works for us. At least we don't have to worry about what day a season will start on, because we know already. Just as we have always known, since Australia was settled by the British, anyway.
But seasons do odd things to people and pets alike. My dog, for example. He's getting into his third winter this year, and it makes me wonder if this year will be the one in which he decides he likes the idea of the nice warm dog coat I bought him last year, and will actually wear it when the weather gets cold. That said, he's not quite two yet, so he's still got a lot of growing to do.
As you can see from the pictures, he's growing up fast, but still loves to play with his toys. He's a good boy though, and being a dalmatian, he'll never really mature, and become serious and dependable and *proper*, like other dogs, for dalmatians are known the world over as being larrikins, jokesters, and generally a hell of a lot of fun to be around. He's good at protecting the yard and the cats, and barking at me when I come into the property, or out of one of my doors, but I'm sure he'll figure it all out in the end.
These gekkos, though, seem to be the scouts for an invasion. Everywhere I look these days, I see gekkos. Hundreds of the little buggers. On my windows, running across my walls, trying to look inconspicuous on the ceiling. I just hope that when they invade, their terms for surrender are acceptable....
That said, I've had a sick cat recently. One of the velcro twins has been less than well, and so she's been getting a bit of extra love and attention. Dad thinks it's probably worms, and so with some careful planning, and help from a friend, we attempted to worm the cats on the weekend. Needless to say, Mr Vampire Teeth didn't take it too well, and promptly started to shred both of us, and then proceeded to froth at the mouth in an attempt to rid himself of the yucky worming paste we squirted down the back of his throat. She Who Must Be Obeyed (Or She'll Rip Your Furniture To Shreds) actually chose to lick her dose off the end of the syringe (good little girl that she is), while my sick Velcro Twin got enough of a dosage to do the job. Her brother managed to avoid all the fuss by hiding, so he's the only one who didn't get dosed. But his day will come....in a fortnight....
But the velcro twin in question has been having extra love and kisses recently, which includes bringing her out of the cat room (now that they are inside), and sitting with her on my lap in front of the tv, or at the computer of an evening, and sometimes through the day. The other night, though, we were sitting where we could, apparently, see the kitchen windows, because despite being so ill she's currently just a bag of bones, she was well enough to launch herself at the windows to have a go at those pesky gekkos in the photo above. So she can't be TOO bad....
Anyway, university calls, and I must be off!
Every. Single. Year.
Winter, the season I was born in, goes from 1st June - 31st August, with Spring right after it. The only season that has changeable days is Summer because it finishes in February, and so every four years, our Summer is one day longer.
Now, I've grown up with this system, so it's normal to me, but in a conversation recently with an overseas friend, they seemed rather surprised by our system. They thought it a tad ludicrous that we have, as they put it, "regimented seasons". But it works for us. At least we don't have to worry about what day a season will start on, because we know already. Just as we have always known, since Australia was settled by the British, anyway.
But seasons do odd things to people and pets alike. My dog, for example. He's getting into his third winter this year, and it makes me wonder if this year will be the one in which he decides he likes the idea of the nice warm dog coat I bought him last year, and will actually wear it when the weather gets cold. That said, he's not quite two yet, so he's still got a lot of growing to do.
As you can see from the pictures, he's growing up fast, but still loves to play with his toys. He's a good boy though, and being a dalmatian, he'll never really mature, and become serious and dependable and *proper*, like other dogs, for dalmatians are known the world over as being larrikins, jokesters, and generally a hell of a lot of fun to be around. He's good at protecting the yard and the cats, and barking at me when I come into the property, or out of one of my doors, but I'm sure he'll figure it all out in the end.
These gekkos, though, seem to be the scouts for an invasion. Everywhere I look these days, I see gekkos. Hundreds of the little buggers. On my windows, running across my walls, trying to look inconspicuous on the ceiling. I just hope that when they invade, their terms for surrender are acceptable....
That said, I've had a sick cat recently. One of the velcro twins has been less than well, and so she's been getting a bit of extra love and attention. Dad thinks it's probably worms, and so with some careful planning, and help from a friend, we attempted to worm the cats on the weekend. Needless to say, Mr Vampire Teeth didn't take it too well, and promptly started to shred both of us, and then proceeded to froth at the mouth in an attempt to rid himself of the yucky worming paste we squirted down the back of his throat. She Who Must Be Obeyed (Or She'll Rip Your Furniture To Shreds) actually chose to lick her dose off the end of the syringe (good little girl that she is), while my sick Velcro Twin got enough of a dosage to do the job. Her brother managed to avoid all the fuss by hiding, so he's the only one who didn't get dosed. But his day will come....in a fortnight....
But the velcro twin in question has been having extra love and kisses recently, which includes bringing her out of the cat room (now that they are inside), and sitting with her on my lap in front of the tv, or at the computer of an evening, and sometimes through the day. The other night, though, we were sitting where we could, apparently, see the kitchen windows, because despite being so ill she's currently just a bag of bones, she was well enough to launch herself at the windows to have a go at those pesky gekkos in the photo above. So she can't be TOO bad....
Anyway, university calls, and I must be off!
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