Hello from Editor Des. Well do you know what?  We went to  the city of Goulburn last week.  My guardian Rob Conolly’s  ancestor William Conolly used to live there when it was just a little town.  This is him;

Hmmm…not the most handsome fellow, but he couldn’t help that could he? He came from Rathmines in Dublin, where he was a wine and spirits merchant, but not  a very good one….hahaha.  Anyway, before he went completely broke he decided to emigrate.  When he arrived  in Australia with his little family  in  1854  he met a man who owned a  flour mill in Goulburn (southern New South Wales).  So he decided to give flour a go  instead of plonk, and bought the business. Here is a lovely drawing of the mill.

William sent  flour  from his steam driven mill all over the country, and  won first prize  at an international  exhibition in Sydney for five years running.  People everywhere cooked  his wheaty porridge for breakfast. This is probably why Rob Conolly  still makes porridge every morning. Yuk!  Unfortunately, me and Pauline have to eat it too.

Conolly’s Porridge

Below  is a photo of the mill taken about 1870. The man in the white coat is miller William, and behind him is  his son George Wallace  (Rob’s great-grandfather).

Sadly, it’s the only image we have of George Wallace, but here is a photo of his son Wallace with his wife Maude taken about 1950.

Wallace and Maude Conolly

And here is the Conolly family’s first house in Goulburn, called Argyle Cottage. It might be still there, but nobody can find it because we don’t know what street it’s in. If it’s still standing that is. I like the neat picket fence.

Argyle Cottage

Unlike Rob Conolly, William went to church a lot.  He helped raise  money to build  the city’s  lovely Anglican  cathedral, called  St Saviour’s.   In 1987, when he had been dead for a hundred years,  all the family (including Rob and Pauline) went to  a  big reunion in Goulburn.  Here they all are in front of the old mill, which was then a bowling alley!   I forgot to say that  the last flour had been milled in the 1960’s.

There was  a special service in the cathedral and a minister cousin from Melbourne, the Rev. David Conolly,  preached a sermon of thanksgiving  for the life of William.  A brass plaque in the old chap’s  memory   was put  up under  the Conolly family stained  glass window. Wasn’t that lovely? Except the cleaners have been a bit too free with the brasso,  and now the plaque is really  hard to read. For goodness sake!

Anyway, the window is pretty. It was actually put there in memory of Harriet Conolly, William’s sister-in-law, who was even more churchy than he was. She came to Goulburn from Dublin  after her husband Richard Conolly died. Well he was a minister, so that’s why she was so religious I suppose.

Old William is buried in St Saviour’s Anglican cemetery, which is right beside Goulburn’s maximum security gaol. I don’t think he would like that really, but never mind. The family  visited his grave  during the reunion and Reverend David gave another little sermon.

Then they all went off and played cricket, which is a very Aussie thing to do. Rob said he was a shining star, but I don’t believe him. Pauline said she thinks he got out for a duck, from a fast ball bowled by minister David.

GOD BLESS OLD WILLIAM CONOLLY, FLOUR MILLER OF GOULBURN.  IF IT WASN’T FOR HIM I WOULDN’T HAVE TO EAT PORRIDGE EVERY DAY,  BUT I FORGIVE HIM.   HE WAS WHAT YOU CALL A FLOURY  PIONEER!

Thanks for reading my story…..love, Editor Des xxx

UPDATE –  April 4  2015   THE OLD MILL BUILDINGS WERE EMPTY WHEN WE VISITED, AND LOOKING A BIT SAD. BUT NOW THERE ARE PLANS  BY A LOVELY COUPLE TO BREATHE NEW LIFE INTO THEM.  A DEVELOPMENT APPLICATION HAVE JUST BEEN SUBMITTED  LET’S HOPE ALL GOES SMOOTHLY.

Hello,

You know how Pauline  Conolly posts  rather showoffy pictures of her garden?  Well I’m about to take her down a peg or two, hahaha.  Made a little bicycle  tour the other day and by gum there are some pretty dire ‘blots’ !

Here I go down one of the steep paths to a very weedy bit;

Off I go!

Oh for heavens sake. Her steps are all wonky and now look what’s happened….*@#*#! Lots of messy gum leaves too. She should use the rake a bit more.

o!

Here’s her compost area…she never puts up pictures of  this, does she? That long stick is to fend off snakes that might be lurking in there. And what’s that  messy pile of rocks all about?

The compost bays.

I bet she never mentions her vegetable garden! All she has is a few herbs and  a lonely potato plant that grew all by itself in the compost.  The potatoes will probably taste like rotten vegetables and worms.

A lonely little potato in a compost patch!

Dr Bob did a big clean up of the garage, where Pauline was keeping lots of  rubbishy garden stuff. And, OH MY WORD….I think he chucked her out too!! How very  sad!

I wonder if I should pull her out?

I suppose I should fish  her out but I just need to pop out for a while. Goodbye everyone.

Be back in a while..maybe!

Did you like my story?   IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO VISIT MY VERY OWN FACEBOOK PAGE, PLEASE CLICK HERE. I NEED SOME MORE LIKES’ HAHA.

If you leave a comment I won’t tell Pauline I promise!  Don’t forget to do the anti-spam sum before you press ‘Submit”.

OK Des, I have read this and it is a very silly and unfair piece. As for my wormy tasting potatoes….I harvested the crop the other day. Yes, it was small but we ate the results last night  and it was nectar of the Gods! So there…apology required I think.

The best potatoes every grown!!

UPDATE – THREE MONTHS LATER.

Oh my hat!. Pauline was moving the compost heap and she found more spuds! I’ll never hear the last of it.

Oh no, mashed potato for tea.

HELLO DOWN THERE!

OH MY WORD, THIS IS A BIT CREEPY!

Presenting – Mr Editor Des!

OK…to celebrate my 15th birthday I thought I would tell you  a little bit about myself.   I was actually born in China,  but I think my parents sold me ( I know, how could they part with someone so adorable?)  Boo hoo, they probably live in a zoo.  Well  I might try and find them one day.   Anyway,  on February 23  2000,  I was adopted by   Pauline Conolly and her husband Dr Bob, so I use that date as  my birthday. My darling godmother Vonnie told me I was born in the Chinese year of the dragon; which means my strongest character traits are; LUCKY, FLEXIBLE, ECCENTRIC, IMAGINATIVE, ARTISTIC, SPIRITUAL CHARISMATIC.  Explains a lot really.

I lived in Sydney to start with,  and the first  really exciting place I remember going was to was  the 2000 Olympic Games.

What was she thinking?? Can you spot me on the right?

Yes, I was  very  embarrassed about  what Pauline wore, but what could I do?  My green and gold was far more restrained and  tasteful.

And after that we went to America and then to Europe lots of times. I always seem to be packing my suitcase. I wear my English jumper in the UK, except for during the cricket or rugby. Then it’s on with the green and gold.

How much more can I fit in?

Travelling makes me feel very insecure because I sometimes get left behind.  You know that baby who was left in a handbag at Victoria Station in the play by Mr Oscar Wilde?  Well Pauline pretended to leave me in her handbag when we were in London. Very funny…. NOT! When I do get left behind Pauline just looks a bit sad and says she will  have to replace me!  (yes..she does!) Dr Bob  glares at her and goes off to find me. He is such  a treasure.

Some people have a warped sense of humour.

My favouite food is porridge…natch! And puddings.

Ready to eat  delicious  pudding with my friend Little Jack.

Yum! Take-away porridge. I eat it wherever I am in the world.

My worst faults are under age drinking and smoking and being disrespectful. Ooh, alright ….there is something else. I became an apprentice editor  at a very young age and now I want to be an author like Pauline (only much better, which won’t be difficult.  I’m writing an unauthorized biography of her. My girlfriend Milly is helping me with the research.

We found all Pauline’s old school reports in here. Hahaha.

Well I also help Dr Bob-the-builder quite a lot. You might say I have several strings to my bow. Oh #!*#$!, that’s a cliche isn’t it? And me an editor!

All set to help Dr Bob.

When I’m not working I like playing golf and  riding my bike down pres…precipitous paths in Pauline’s garden. I am utterly fearless, and never wear a  helmet.  I also like canoeing on the Thames when we are in England. No life-jackets of course, but Dr Bob can swim.

Down I go!

Canoeing with Dr Bob. Can you see me??

I can’t be bothered telling you anything else now.  It has been a big day, what with my birthday party and all.  I wanted a motorbike but I didn’t get one. Do you know what I got? A picnic basket. It’s quite nice…made of wicker . Those bottles of wine might only be cordial, but I’m  hoping not.

Not a motorbike alas, but Milly does like picnics..

If you want to know any more you can contact me  on my Facebook page . Please give me a like because Pauline has so many more than I do and it’s not really fair. Click here

Hello, Editor Des here!

Well Pauline was going to do some research at the State Library in Sydney so I went along  too. I thought I might start trying to find my ancestors. Just hope I don’t turn out to be  related to Paddington or Pooh…especially Paddington.  Did you hear his film wasn’t nominated for an academy award? Apparently he’s devastated.

Dr Bob dropped us off near Martin Place. It was very exciting because I had my photo taken with Mr Irish Potato Man (a relative of Dr Bob’s) .  I was a bit worried he would tread on me, just quietly. I thought Pauline was never going to take the damn picture.

Mr Irish Potato Man and moi! Those big boots are a bit close for comfort!

He was giving out free chips (a new sort).  Cheese and onion, they were. A  poncy man walking past  and said surely  there were  enough rubbish foods in the world already.  But me and all the other people  ignored him and snapped them up. I got two packets, all for myself.

With my freebies. Oh yes!!

I had a bit of a rest on the way up to Macquarie Street (that’s where the big library is.) A boy ran up and asked if  could he have a packet because they’d run out, but I told him to nick off.  Got into trouble for being unpleasant, but first in first served  don’t you agree?

When we got to the library I helped Pauline first; she was looking up stuff for her biography of Dr Victor Ratten.   And do you know what? He was really a FAKE! We found a book written by one of his cousins, with a picture of him in it, so that was good.

We found a pic of Victor Ratten.

By this time we were hungry so we went upstairs to the library cafe. I ate one packet of my chips,and put the other one away for  later. A pigeon walked up to our table so I gave him a piece of Pauline’s  quiche when she wasn’t looking.

Yum!

Afterwards I went off on my own  to the Family History section and a librarian helped me turn on  the computer. I didn’t  get on with it very well, because I didn’t have a password and I was too scared to tell the lady in case she made me leave.

Computer research.

Anyway, I pretended I found a reference to  my g.g.g.g.grandfather.   Then she found me a book on genealogy which  was quite useful. She said  I might  be connected  to someone ‘very big’  in China. Not sure if she meant a  bloomin’ giant panda or someone in high office.  Well  I’d only just started taking a few notes when  I began to feel  really queasy. The Irish  Potato Man’s free chips were all squelching around in my stomach and I had to make a run for the loo. Only just made it!

Up-chucking my chips!

Oh my word, it’s lucky I didn’t be sick on the library books.  Pauline was quite sympathetic when she found me. She put a wet tissue on my forehead, and  threw the other packet of chips  in the  return book shute…haha, no she didn’t. She put it in a rubbish tin.

We caught the bus home to Mosman and went to the local library (yes, two in one day!). We bought some books  that the library didn’t want, and then Pauline checked her messages (she’s always doing that).   I watched a little girl try to  teach her younger brother how to skip. She was such  a pompous little twerp;  ‘Pay attention to how I do it and learn, Oliver!‘  she said. but she couldn’t even skip  properly herself!  Well I was going to say something, but we left to go and have coffee so I didn’t.  As we were going out the door I heard her mother tell her to leave Oliver alone and sit down.. Hahaha…serves her right.

At our favourite cafe in Mosman. I was still too wan for caffeine and cake.

Next time I go to the library I’ll  order quiche for lunch like Pauline, or take  some  Vegemite  sandwiches! You live and learn eh?

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHAT ELSE I DO BESIDES EDITING AND FAMILY HISTORY RESEARCH? WELL I’M A TOURIST GUIDE IN THE BEAUTIFUL BLUE MOUNTAINS. CLICK  HERE TO SEE ONE OF MY  FABULOUS STORIES. 

ONE MORE THING (sorry) I HAVE AN AUTHOR PAGE ON FACEBOOK. YOU CAN ‘LIKE’ IT IF YOU WANT TO.  IT’S HERE

Leave me a message if you like. Write in the box below, then scroll down and complete the easy anti-spam sum! OK?

HOW THE DRAMA BEGAN

Well one day I was sitting in a planter pot talking to  Pauline’s  little goose when we heard a funny  noise.  Goose peered down at something, so I did too. Whoops, nearly over-balanced and ended up on my head!

What’s down there?

And do you know what?  It was a bloomin’  Joe Blake!!  That’s Aussie slang for SNAKE. And it was truly huuuge.  It’s head had disappeared into the shrubbery.  I yelled  for  my guardian Pauline  to come,  but she shouted back that  she was busy writing (read playing on Facebook) and was sick of my  nonsense!!    For heavens sake!!!  So I called to my girlfriend Millie and told her to run and get the hatchet for me. She was so scared her hair was standing on end (it’s always pretty messy but this was quite different.)

Heave-ho Milly!

.

THE SERPENT SLAYER STRIKES

After a few big breaths to calm myself down I took aim at that snake, and  I killed it  in one almighty blow.  Here is its horrible head that I chopped off! I might leave it on Paulines’s desk.

I suspect it  was an Anaconda from South America  How did it get here you ask? On the train Milly said (she can be very silly).

Slaying the serpent!

ALL A PIPE DREAM!

I was so brave and a bit proud of myself so I ran and  told  Pauline’s husband Dr Bob. WELL, I could hardly believe it, but he was furious with me.  He said I’d ruined his special drain pipe…..  A PIPE??  What sort of pipe has a wrinkly skin?  Oh my word,  I must have imagined that creepy head because I was so terrified.  I said  I was truly  sorry; that  it was a case of mistaken identity and  that  it was Milly who fetched  the hatchet so it was half her fault. Of course it  didn’t help, and Dr Bob confiscated my bike for a week.  Let me just say that  it’s not a good thing to leave me with nothing to do;

Idle hands are the devil’s tools!

When I was very small I went to the Sydney Olympics and since then I have been a sportsman extraordinaire!  Mind you,  I do face  certain  physical ‘challenges’. I find it helps if I limber up with a bit of yoga before breakfast.

I like to let the blood drain to my brain!

After that I eat my porridge and I go out into the garden for a bit of sun (vitamin D) , and I do some exercises. This part is a bit boring really. Let’s face it,  I just haven’t got the legs for it.

CAN’T SEEM TO RAISE MY LEGS LIKE THE WHITE LADY CAN!!

My guardian Pauline Conolly has not been much of role mode, although she did try boogie boarding  when she was younger. She claimed she hurt her shoulder like Greg Norman, and had to retire.  Well, sorry but her husband  Dr Bob told me that’s a lie. I found this photo in a box.

Honestly, who wears a wetsuit when the water is like bath water?

I enjoy most  water sports. I’m a pretty good diver and swimmer…. once I find the courage to plunge  in. Pauline’s only ‘memorable’ moment at her school swimming carnival was when she dropped a chocolate coated ice-cream in the pool. The sports mistress was very annoyed.

Ready..set….

Golf?  Yes,  and my handicap is QUITE low. I play at Blackheath, and at Harleyford in England.

A teenage golfing marvel.

What a poser. And fancy wearing jeans! Circa 1980, before she gave up!

Pauline’s handicap is that she has no idea what she’s doing. Once when we were  up at Yamba she hit a kangaroo on the nose and it was only two metres away.   Worse still, she has no knowledge of golfing protocol.  When  Dr Bob carefully  marked his ball with a $2 coin before attempting a rare birdie, Pauline picked it up!!  Oh my word….I thought my guardians were going to get divorced and that  there would be a custody battle over me.

Dr Bob used to be a racing car driver in his spare time. Here he is at Brands Hatch in England.

Boy racer Dr Bob.

I would like to do that too, but I don’t have a car just yet, only a very old bike. Hint hint.

I do tricks on  it and ride down steep places in the garden. I tried riding from the Blue Mountains to Sydney recently, but it started to rain. I had to come home when I got to the end of the drive.

Off to Sydney. If I’d had a raincoat I might have got further!!

WELL I HAVE AN AUTHOR PAGE AND YOU CAN PRESS ‘LIKE’ ON IT IF YOU LIKE…..IT’S HERE.

THIS BUNNY PROMISED  HE WOULD VISIT MY HOME IN THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.

Well I’d been  looking  forward to the  Easter Bunny visiting for weeks, but  on Saturday everything started to go wrong.  See, we were in Sydney visiting my Granny Jean when  it started  raining  so hard that  Dr Bob decided we shouldn’t drive home because it was a bit dangerous; also  he had some painting to do.  Naturally Granny was delighted, but I wasn’t!

Anyway we finally got going on Sunday morning. When I got home to the Blue Mountains my friend Milly said  she had seen  the Bunny hopping down the lane with his basket, but she couldn’t find any eggs. Oh my word, what if he had hopped right past us and on to Sandra and Paul’s house??

I organized  a proper search because Milly is inclined to act willy-nilly!  (haha, that’s a joke) we checked the  letter box first…nuffink,  and then Milly thought of Pauline’s big  copper pot.  Only dead mozzies and cobwebs there. Dr Bob had to come and get us down.

ONLY BILLS AND SPIDERS!

THEY WOULD BE HARD TO GET OUT OF HERE!

Hmm, we sat down and had a little think, (like my cousin  Pooh ) and Milly thought that  the eggs could be in the wee garden shed under the balcony.

Nuffink….only rubbishy things and  rusty garden shears that Pauline clearly  hasn’t been using enough.  As you can imagine  we were  getting  REALLY worried by now.  Looked in lots of shrubbery;

SEE ANYTHING MILLY?

Nope…only slugs and snails. Could they have eaten the chocolate???  I asked Dr Bob and he said no, but  POSSUMS WOULD.  OMG!!!   We have lots of possums and they are always starving. It was a dreadful  thing to contemplate but……

NOCTURNAL THIEVES (WIKIPEDIA)

Milly started to cry and I felt bad because I’d already scoffed  lots of chocolate  goodies  at Grannie Jean’s house.  And then…you know what? We heard someone whisper; ‘ PSST! FROG HOLLOW’   So down the steps we went to the dark and mysterious bit of the garden. Well  there was a fairy standing outside Froggie’s house . I don’t believe in fairies  really, but there she was. AND SO WERE OUR EGGS!!

WE FOUND THEM!!

HAVE YOU EVERY BEEN INVOLVED IN AN EASTER EGG HUNT?  IT CAN BE EXTREMELY STRESSFUL, BUT SORT OF EXCITING. YOU CAN LEAVE ME A MESSAGE IF YOU LIKE  DON’T FORGET TO DO THE ANTI-SPAM SUM!

Hello, well bottoms are very  funny, aren’t they?     Q.  WHAT HAS A BOTTOM AT THE TOP?  A.  MY LEGS!   That’s a joke I made up by myself.

Head down, bottom up!

I spend a lot of time with my bottom in the air. It’s so the blood can run  down into my brain and make me smarter! My guardian Dr Bob suggested I do it and I really think it’s working! I now know how to divide and multiply and how (mostly) not to blow up things in the microwave.

Over on the right are  some cheeky (get it?) peachy bottoms from Japan. I’m buying some for Dr Bob for his birthday.

Peachy Bottoms

Well bottoms are  not so funny if you sit on a BEE….I had to  use an air cushion for days  after one stung me in the lavender bushes! It was my employer Pauline Conolly’s fault…she told me to sit down and smell the flowers. And sadly, I did.

Oh dear!

I did get my revenge though . I sneaked up one day when we were at the BOT -anical gardens in Sydney and got this wonderful shot;

The biggest bottom in the world belongs to Pauline Conolly!

Bwahaha!  I bet she wishes her botty looked more like this. It’s a scribbly gum. It had some unfortunate gum boils higher up, so I had to crop the pic!

Very svelte!

Q. WHAT DO YOU TAKE THE TOP  OFF TO TO PUT THE BOTTOM ON, AND THE BOTTOM OFF TO PUT THE  TOP ON?  A. THE TOILET!

And while I’m indulging in  lavatory humour,  once Pauline’s Dad had to make a toilet for workers picking beans on his farm . He built it  in a hollow  tree. It must have looked a bit like this; a Lavatree!

Loo in a tree!

Goodbye, I think I’ve scraped the  BOTTOM of the barrel!!

I thought I saw a dollar in here!

I PROMISED  PAULINE  I WOULDN’T PUBLISH THIS RUDE STORY BECAUSE IT LOWERS THE TONE OF THE WEBSITE, AND THE NATIONAL LIBRARY ARE ARCHIVING IT. WELL THEY WERE!! Ha ha!

Can’t start the day without my short black.

You know what? Lately my editing hasn’t been going so well, because I missed a few errors in one of Pauline’s articles. I had to award the red tomato  trophy to myself, which wasn’t exactly  pleasant!

Oh the humiliation!

The pay isn’t much good either. Hardly enough to keep a person in smokes. Not that  I DO smoke, but if I wanted to.  I’m still working on my unauthorized biography of a certain writer I know well, but that’s a long-term project.

A NEW DIRECTION

So anyway,  I have been considering a new career….. in the wonderful  world  of  COFFEE.  Dr Bob has agreed to teach me, because he is a bit of an expert. His coffee machine is nearly as big as our  little house! He told me that  the  most important thing is to have freshly roasted coffee beans, and that  it’s best to grind them up yourself.  Plus….you have to keep the air out  of the packet. Oxygen is the enemy of coffee, as smoking  is the enemy of health (an old, wise proverb from the Blue  Mountains). So whether it’s beans or already ground up coffee, keep that packet sealed.   Quite complicated eh?

But for me, the hardest bit is making pictures in the froth (crema it’s called)   People expect bloomin’ works of art, even in our  little  village!  A bear will be my signature image (natch!) , when I master it. Having trouble with the ears at the mo.

I found an old shingle to hang up….. going to pretend I’m a bit French. Well I just  might be cherie, my ancestry is mired in mystery.

My shingle ready to put up. Ooh la la!

Adorable, if I say so myself!

Dr Bob’s Ascaso Coffee Machine and grinder.

Pauline has never worked out  how to use the coffee machine.  Well  she did try once, but  there was a disaster and  we had to clean  coffee grounds off the ceiling and between the floorboards.  When  Dr Bob is away she  makes tea, or takes her visitors up to the village cafes.  How pathetic is that? Bwahaha.  But I digress.

AND A BLOOMIN’ TEA BAG AT THAT!

After my expertise  reaches an acceptable level  Dr Bob is going to buy me a mobile coffee shop. As you can see in the picture below, it has a little home for me as well,  which is good because I will be going on the road. It will be a big adventure.  My girlfriend  Milly would like to come too,  but she would be a distraction.  Pauline seems quite pleased about the whole idea. I thought she would miss me dreadfully  but…..

My prospective coffee caravan.

I may not know how to make the perfect double shot, extra hot, skinny latte just  yet, but I have consumed coffee all around the world and I’m an aficionado  just like Dr Bob!  That really just  means we are coffee snobs, hahaha.

After a long flight, one cup of coffee is just not enough.

So how do you think I’ll get on in my new profession? Will I be able to throw away my red editor’s pen??  Let me know what you think.

Maud sports a sprig of wattle for spring!

 It was that period in the vernal quarter when we may suppose the Dryads to be waking for the season. The vegetable world begins to move and swell and the saps to rise, till in the completest silence of lone gardens and trackless plantations, where everything seems helpless and still after the bond and slavery of frost, there are bustlings, strainings, united thrusts and pulls-all-together, in comparison with which the powerful tugs of cranes and pulleys in a noisy city are but pigmy efforts.   THOMAS HARDY ‘Far From the Madding Crowd’

SPRING IN MY BLUE  MOUNTAINS  NEST

I have several rhododendrons in my garden called ‘Volcano’ and they are aptly named.  As spring arrives, fissures are appearing in their buds, revealing deep red flowers that seem ready to erupt – like Mount Vesuvius.

Stand back, this could be dangerous!

All my previous gardens were in Sydney, where winter slides into summer before spring gets a look in.  Since moving to the Mountains I am acutely aware of the garden stirring and swelling around me.

I ordered  two cubic metres of rotted cow dung recently , and noticed that internal combustion had raised the temperature of the pile. The manure was steaming in the cool air, and  I stepped back  fearing the whole pile  might ‘blow’.

It’s such an exciting time of year. Shrivelled leaves on the maples are being forced off by new growth.  Azaleas and ajuga  begin to  flower. ‘Dead’ sticks are showing signs of life, and long forgotten bulbs are appearing everywhere. The garden looks fantastic, though I say it myself!

Of course, the news is not all good. I spent the winter ruthlessly destroying montbretia bulbs, but they are coming back to life. I watch with horror as they emerge from  crevices in  dry-stone walls and lift flagstones. They remind me of Dracula, pushing aside the lid of his coffin.

Meanwhile,  cuckoos call, and  sneakily lay their eggs in other folks’ nests.

Tiny birds sometimes  find they are the parents of a monster !

Grey fantails are unnerved by  the  sudden surge of growth. They constantly spin on their perches, as though afraid of being seized from behind by twining clematis, or an errant hardenbergia vine.

I really have been seized; not by vines but by manic energy. Like the fantails, I cannot sit still for a moment. Friends watch in awe as I attack giant agapanthus clumps with a crowbar. My mattock wielding has been described as frenzied. When I visited the doctor for what I thought was a routine check-up he took my blood pressure  and ordered me to rest. I think he fears I have spring fever and that,  like the  manure pile,  my temperature  may skyrocket, with disastrous results.

My associate Editor Des is rarely energized, but he does haul out his picnic basket when the azaleas and camellias  bloom.

Editor Des in his spring bonnet!

WHAT DO YOU LOVE MOST ABOUT SPRING?  DO LEAVE A COMMENT BELOW, BUT REMEMBER TO COMPLETE THE LITTE ANTI-SPAM SUM BEFORE PRESSING ‘SUBMIT’.

For another story about the Blue Mountains, click HERE

Editor Des in his dress suit.

INTRODUCING EDITOR DES OF BLACKHEATH

Thanks for agreeing to this interview Editor Des.  I must say,  you are the personification of sartorial elegance today.

A. Thank you. I bought this suit in a posh shop at Henley-on-Thames. Well that’s in England.

It does look quite expensive.  Now to begin with, what do you know about your origins?

A. Well I don’t know much, but I think my  foreBEARS (so to speak…get it?)   came from China. I went to the family history room  at the State Library in Sydney, but their resources were very poor in the bear line.

Des searching for his origins

Oh that’s a shame. Never mind, you have very special guardians in me and Dr Bob, don’t you?

A. Well Dr Bob’s alright.

That’s not very gracious, young man.  Quite unkind really. What made you get into editing?

A. It was because I went to see Dr Johnson’s house in London. He was a famous dictionary writer and I got very interested in words, commas, fullstops… stuff like that.  I thought I could help you because you make such a lot of mistakes in your work.

Thanks, how generous and diplomatic  of you. NOT.

Looking up words In Dr Johnson’s giant dictionary.

MISADVENTURES

Speaking of London reminds me….what is the worst thing that has ever happened to you?

A. Hmmm….we both know it was when I got left  behind by you and Dr Bob in a hotel  there a few  years ago.  By the time Dr Bob came back ten stations on the train I was on the cleaner man’s trolley. I put a lot of my poor behaviour down to this traumatic event.  From then on I  felt I had to make my presence felt anyway  I could.

A dark and wicked past!

Hmmm….. I think you would agree  that smoking and drinking have been issues in the past, but what is is the worst thing you have ever done?

A. It was when I got both you and me thrown out of a world -wide gardening forum for posting inappropriate material about a  SNAKE.

Yes, that was very embarrassing, but  extremely  unfair I  have to say. You were only joking.   Anyway, moving on…. (gotcha moment coming) would you call yourself loyal and trustworthy, generally speaking?

A. Yes I would!

Really? You might like to give that answer a little more thought, Editor Des. Remember this? (dear readers, just click on EXPOSE )

And this disgraceful manuscript I found you working on?

A. mumble mumble *#!$#*&#*!!

OK, we will  draw a veil over all this for the time being. What is your most prized possession?  I mean besides your editing pen.

A. My bike, even though I really want a sports car.

Love my wheels!

What are you most proud of?

A. Umm…..lots of things, but I had my portrait done by a wonderful artist called Mardi Storken.   That was very excellent.

My superb portrait by artist Mardi Storken

Anything else you want to talk about?

EDITOR DES – Yes, when do we get to the bit about my unbounded talents? I play the harmonica pretty well, and I can stand on my head.

Yoga Bear

Editor Des Plays the Harmonica

THE PROFESSIONAL LIFE OF EDITOR DES

Oh…..Okay. I  also know that besides editing  you have been involved in a good many occupations, such as  quarry owner, barista, and most recently market gardener. How has it all  been going?

A. Ummm…..the rocks didn’t sell well because of the spiders hiding under  them.  And my coffee never did pass Dr Bob’s  quality test.  But I am already a champion in the plant growing world.  I grow all our culinary herbs plus carrots and potatoes.  Do you know what? I grew the biggest spud in Blackheath. Just saying.

Editor Des and his humungous potato

Very impressive. What are you hoping to get for your 16th birthday Editor Des?

A. Well I want a trailer  to transport my produce up to the Blackheath Farmers’ Market.  Because, I need  to save money  so I can  ask my girlfriend Milly to marry me when I turn 18. She’s very beautiful. And kind.

Editor Des and his young lady Milly.

She certainly is. Well Editor Des, you seem to have settled down in life and have your future  all mapped out. I hope that any  thoughts of unauthorized biographies have faded from your mind (I’ll show you the delete key on your  laptop.). Oh, and happy 16th birthday!

A, Thank you Pauline Conolly. Well I’ve written lots of  stories on this website. Like THIS ONE

And these ones….

Alright that’s enough. I’m sure people will find them if they are interested.

Yes, but…..

Goodbye Editor Des, this interview is over. Thank you for your time.

Editor Des – you said I could  put in a link to my Facebook page.

Oh, alright. Go on then.

Thank you . Please give me some more likeys everyone, because I have to catch up to the bear in the musty duffle coat and  smelly red boots.  Click here to  find my page.   FACEBOOK SUPERSTAR

If you would like to leave a message for Editor Des, use the comment box below. Don’t forget to complete the anti-spam sum before pressing SUBMIT

EPILOGUE – SINCE THIS INTERVIEW WAS RECORDED EDITOR DES SUFFERED  A SERIOUS HEAD INJURY, FROM WHICH HE IS STILL RECOVERING. A FEW PICTURES  ARE WORTH  A FEW THOUSAND WORDS.

My superb portrait by artist Mardi Storken

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE,  FROM EDITOR DES

Well, I read somewhere that lots of people eat fish on Good Friday, so I asked my guardian Pauline to make me a rod. I thought I knew where a rainbow trout might be lurking.  It was a bit hot  when I ventured out and I couldn’t find my cap, so I needed a  sun bonnet. I found a little kerchiefy thing in Pauline’s bottom  drawer and managed to  make a really good one. Here I am landing my fish.

Landing my very  first trout.

To my great shock, when I took it inside for Pauline to clean all she was interested in was my sun bonnet. She was so annoyed with me. She said, ‘DESMOND, WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FROM? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT IT IS??’  Well of course  I didn’t have the fainest idea.  She whipped it off my head and undid the knots.  Turns out it was some rare, royal memento from when the Queen visited Tasmania in 1954.   Honestly, it just looked like an old  hanky to me.   It will be OK if she irons it anyway. She does over react sometimes. I had to clean  and scale the trout myself. Oh my word, what a horrible, smelly  job. I won’t be doing that again!

We put my fish in the freezer for later. Pauline seemed to get over her crabbiness and a few days later she even took me up to the village as a treat. While we were in the antiques centre she plonked a ridiculous hat on me. She said, ‘Here’s the perfect Easter bonnet  for you, Editor Des.’ It was called a retro  fascinator, and cost a bomb! Before I could get it off she took my damn photo.

Oh yes, very funny!

She was getting her own back I think.  We went off and had coffee together, and made up. She’s not a bad old soul really. It must be hard for an elderly woman to have a feisty teenager like me to look after.

Oh dear, I cut Pauline’s head off. What a shame.

We decided to create lots more Easter bonnets when we got home. Here are a few pics. Hope you like them.

Formal floral for a young lady.

A fascinator made from a Mountain Devil flower.

A chocolate heart bonnet.

Even little Miss Wombat got an Easter  bonnet of sorts.  The whole thing turned out to be lots of fun really.

Miss Wombat in her succulent style bonnet.

Oh yes, and my fish cooked  up a treat. (used the clay bake method)  I ate it with all my own produce, and an egg laid especially for me. I was going to invite my girlfriend Milly, but I only had one  fish. And one egg. Never mind, I’ll try to catch two trout for Easter.

A fish dinner for one.

Guess what? This is the perfect Easter Bonnet for Pauline Conolly!  Because  everyone knows she’s as mad as a Hatter. Hahaha.

Ooh, there were lots hidden in the flowers.

We had to hunt for  our eggs last year.

May the dear old  Easter Bunny be good to you all. Goodbye. xxxx

I have my own Facebook page if you would like to visit and follow me. Just click HERE

And here is another Easter story I wrote, The Easter Egg Hunt

A greenhouse in a box!

Hello Dear People

This photo is self-explanatory

Well because my vegie growing has been so awesome, my guardian Pauline Conolly finally agreed to buy me a little greenhouse.  The only trouble was she took the cheap option (what a surprise..NOT) and it came in at least 100 bits.  OMG!!

Good grief!

At first I was going to send it back, but  in the end my strength of character  preev…..preval……shone through,  and I decided to  give it my best shot.

It took me nearly all day to put the first ten pieces together. I did call out for help,  but nobody came (what a surprise). Things got a bit easier when I found a sheet of instructions. It was very hard to reach the high parts but I managed to clamber up. Climbing is in my blood.

My heart was in my mouth!

SUCCESS

…..

It was nearly dark when I finally finished and put its green raincoat on  It was very tight and the zippers were a bit tricky.  Looked awesome though.  I pushed it into place behind my kitchen garden.

Next morning I went out to admire it. There was just one more thing to add. I needed a piece of paper and a red pen.  Aah yes….now it’s the perfect Ed Shed. No more hiding in the wood heap to indulge in my little vices. Hahaha.  Do you know what?  I sleep in there sometimes. Especially if Pauline is annoyed with me.

The final touch

Bliss!

Well did you know I have a FACEBOOK  page??  Just click here…..EDITOR DES    I AM TRYING TO GET MORE ‘LIKES’ THAN PADDINGTON AND POOH!!

Every autumn my guardian Pauline Conolly takes me to Mount Tomah Botanical Gardens  so we can gather  Spanish chestnuts from their big tree. It’s very exciting.  It’s usually a bit chilly, but there is a lovely fire in the cafe where you can warm up first.  I thought there were  chestnuts roasting on the bottom ledge at first. I tried to snaffle one, but they were only bolts. Very hot bolts.

A 360 degree fire…very toasty.

You have to walk down the hill to find  the big tree. It’s easy to spot,  because there are lots of spiky chestnut cases  underneath. Pauline squashed some for me with her boot. Mind you,  I accidentally sat on some, which wasn’t pleasant. Must remember to wear pants next time.

I found some!

We put them in some  autumn leaves and took them home. I thought they looked very pretty.

Well I’m going to roast them, but Pauline said she prefers candied chestnuts that they make in France.  They are called marrons glaces or something. She said they take days to make, so I doubt if I will bother with that. And she certainly won’t!  My dear French ami Jonathan Cooper  sent me a recipe for chestnut jam. I will have to brush up my French so I can try it, but I see it has rum and figs, so it must be pretty special. Have a look HERE

Marrons Glaces. Yum!

Well they have squillions of chestnut trees in England, but you can’t eat the nuts because they taste nasty.  They are  horse chestnuts….such a disappointment. All you can do is use them for a game called conkers. You tie your conker on a string and hit your opponent’s one. If you smash it  before they destroy yours….you win!

A very fine conker!

Engaged in conker battle.

Pauline and Dr Bob went to the World Conker Championship in England once….as you do (haha).   Pauline  tried to enter, but  foolishly admitted  she had picked up her giant conker in Vienna and they disqualified her.  She had also baked it in the oven, which she did NOT confess.  Never mind, she used it as the light pull in her downstairs loo.

I can’t think of much else to say about chestnuts really.  Goodbye. xxxx

Oh, did  you know I have my very own Facebook page?  EDITOR DES  Just saying.

‘If you go down to the woods today……sing sing …….Today’s the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic.’

Well I love picnics….I think it’s in the genes of bears really, don’t you?  Most picnics require a bit of shopping before hand; bread, wine  and stuff like that.

I am  very well travelled, so of course I have enjoyed picnics in many countries…well a few, anyway.  Here I am by the river Thames in England;

With English friends by the Thames

You have to be careful though, because there are many many dogs on the Thames Path….Eeew!

I hope that dog is smiling!

There was another, very famous picnic by the Thames. In Wind In the Willows,  Ratty took Mole out on his little  rowing boat.  Mole was amazed at all the provisions in the hamper.  This is what  Ratty said he had;

‘coldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinsfrenchrollscresssandwichesmeatpastegingeralelemonadesodawater’ – Wow, that must have taken a long time to get ready.  The author of the book was Mr Kenneth Grahame and he wrote  it for his son Alistair, known as Mouse. Here is a picture of  Mouse, who seems to have liked picnics too. I wonder what’s in his basket?

In France you just go to a patisserie and buy lots of goodies. Mr dear Dr Bob  (my guardian Pauline’s long suffering  husband)  prefers  baguettes at French picnics. Hmmm…

Baguettes are a bit boring I reckon. Here I am with Dr Bob, en France.

…why would you  eat bread when you can have cake??  ‘Je ne sait pas’ (that means  ‘I don’t know’).  Pauline said she doesn’t know either.

Ooh la la… what shall we have Madame Pauline?

For my birthday a couple of years ago I got a wicker hamper. I really wanted a motor scooter, but never mind.  Here I am trying out the hamper. I invited some friends, but they didn’t come. I think my Camellia bloom hat might have been a mistake, just quietly. Lately I have been looking for a bigger hamper. One with plates and cutlery and thermos flasks. You can pick them up quite cheaply, because these days  people  prefer to put their stuff in foam boxes called Eskies.  Uber-tacky in my opinion.

A spring picnic for one.

This is a possibility

Hope the bear doesn’t come with it!  He looks a bit namby-pamby.

This year I had a picnic on Pauline’s lawn. Everyone turned up this time. That’s what made me think I need a bigger hamper.

Happy 16th birthday to me.

Sometimes I catch the train down to Sydney and have a picnic in the Royal Botanic Gardens while  Pauline works at the State Library. People have been having picnics beside the harbour  here for a very long time.  I love this painting of Sydneysiders enjoying themselves at the first sailing regatta. Nobody knows the name of the artist, which is a shame because he (OK..or she) did a great job.  Here is just a little section of the picture. I think the ladies had to go hungry because they couldn’t sit down in their  big dresses. Haha.

An old fashioned picnic in the Botanic Gardens .

Well last time I was in the gardens there were some people setting up for another big picnic, and they had wicker baskets just like mine. They must be coming back into fashion.

I wonder what goodies are in those hampers?

Of course the best picnics are the ones you didn’t expect to have. They are called  spontane….. *!#*! #.. spur of the moment ones. You know why?  Because you don’t have to get ANYTHING  ready…..well except a ‘tablecloth’.  I hope I wasn’t breaking the  Botanic Gardens laws on this occasion…..hahaha.     Because  technically I nicked those figs.

The best picnic…ripe figs and only me to eat them. Haha.

I hope you have enjoyed my story. Goodbye. xxxxx

Here is my very own  Facebook page –  EDITOR DES   just saying.

YOU CAN LEAVE ME A MESSAGE IF YOU FEEL SO INCLINED. WRITE IT IN THE BOX BELOW AND I PROMISE I WILL ANSWER YOU.

THE BIRTH OF A GARDEN

Well  people who know me may remember I  once had ideas of becoming a barista, to supplement my meagre editor’s wages. This didn’t work out so well, because I couldn’t get the crema quite right. Anyway, after my guardian Pauline  Conolly  accidentally grew a potato in the compost I decided to plant a  vegie garden instead, My  plan was to sell my produce at the Blackheath Farmers’ Market.

My  dear friend Dr Bob built my garden out by the wood stacks.

I thought things would grow very fast, only they didn’t. I kept watch over my potted carrot seeds night and day.

And here I would like to  thank the talented  Birmingham author Jackie Sayle for writing this little song for me and my garden;  Well specifically  for my carrots.

They came up eventually and I transferred the pot to my kitchen garden.

By the way, the reason my editor’s wages are so low is because my employer Pauline Conolly has not been writing enough!   She spends her time on Facebook and watching football. In my opinion this is pathetic, and rather selfish….. just saying.

Ready for the village market. The herbs are  for free.

Well I love the village  market. The people there are always kind and friendly.

I might share a stall with this nice lady and her garlic.

I’ve earned quite a lot so far.,,,,enough to buy my girlfriend Milly something really nice. Or something for  myself.

I wrote this  other story about Pauline’s Garden. She has never quite forgiven me. Bwahaha.

YOU CAN LEAVE ME A MESSAGE IN THE BOX , BUT ONLY IF IT’S FULL OF LOVE AND PRAISE PLEASE.

Hello, Editor Des here. I have been in Sydney doing some historical research. However, my trip turned into a real life drama

So here’s what happened. I went into the city  on the bus with my guardian, Pauline Conolly. It was a bit rainy, so  when we got off at Wynyard  Square Pauline put up her brolly. Then a big puff of wind came and suddenly she was gone!! JUST LIKE THAT.

Oh my hat!!

I thought she might have blown into one of the big fig trees, but not of a sign of her.

Nope!

Hellooooo?

It was all a bit worrying. I walked up to Macquarie Street (that’s her favourite) and stopped at the  bronze wild  boar outside Sydney Hospital. You can rub his shiny nose and make a wish.  It was a bit high, but  a kind council man helped me up. I promised the spirits of  very lost people that if I could find my dearest guardian  I would never misbehave ever again.  I would give up my worst habits

I’d even give up the smokes.

I wish I could find Pauline. She’s not a bad old soul really.

Well the spirits  must have been listening, because a bit further down the road I found her  card wallet in the gutter! I knew it was hers, because there was her  blue Library Friend card. It allows her to enter a very special place that other people can’t go in. A bit ‘elitist’ Dr Bob says (whatever that means).

A big clue! Pauline loves the Library.

Pauline says  that the old part of the library not only  has books, but special pillars of wisdom and a lamp of learning.  Do you know what? If you stand  exactly where you can see the lamp shining between the pillars, all the mysteries of life will be revealed.  So that’s what I did.

Foyer of the Mitchell Library, Sydney.

And then I heard a disembodied voice. It said,  ‘Editor Des…what does Pauline  Conolly like even more than books?’   

Hmmm, she does loves birds, and my other (slightly kinder) guardian, Dr Bob Conolly.  She probably doesn’t love them more than books though….Bwahaha.   Oooh,  I know. Of course;  COFFEE AND CAKE!

I ran around to the library cafe, and there she was.  Wot a relief.   I’m not putting her photo here though, because this story is far more  about me than her.

Pauline’s passion, coffee and  carrot cake.

Of course there was one sad thing for me to think about; ‘Why didn’t Pauline go back to Wynyard Square to find me??  Any thoughts?

YOU CAN LEAVE ME A COMMENT IN THE BOX BELOW IF YOU LIKE. THEN COMPLETE THE LITTLE SUM AND PRESS ‘SUBMIT’

Goodbye for now. xx

Well  last week I went on a  holiday to Tasmania in search of two special little girls called Ellie and Ash.  My elderly guardians Pauline  and Rob are their great auntie and uncle.   I reckon this might make me their adoptive fourth cousin thrice removed.

OK,  so here I am in the plane from Sidney….sorry, Sydney.

I had a window seat.

That’s Tasmania way down there.

When we got to Hobart  Pauline  told me  the girls  live in a very cute little house that  used to be a chapel. It took a bit of walking about and driving in the car,  but oh look….I think I found it!

This must be the place.

Now these little girls are very clever and sweet. They had made welcome cards for Paulie and Rob….and for me too of course.

Wot beautiful cards!

They showed me some of their treasures and then we had a wander around their garden ( I am an excellent gardener myself)  We ate pasties and chocolate cake for lunch made by  Katey, who is their beautiful Mum. It was all most delicious. After that Ellie and Ash both wanted to have their photo taken with me. I don’t blame them, because I am really quite famous. Pauline says I shouldn’t  keep saying this, but it’s just the truth.

That’s Ash, with me on the right! On the left is a cheeky monkey!

Me and Miss Ellie…and a sweet wombatty friend.

I decided it would be nice to send the little girls a thank you card after such a special day, but I had to buy one.  Even though I am astonishingly clever  I’m not as artistic as they are.  Plus Pauline doesn’t trust me with scissors, which is a  terrible shame.

Ready to deliver.

I sneaked back to their house and spent ages looking for the letter box.  Do you know what??  It didn’t have one! Rob told me there might be a hole in the door though. YES! I found it.   Is this a good idea Ellie and Ash?  Silly people could post slices of bread or pizza.  Or  pikelets and pancakes. Or even very flat apples.  And all the presents people send must have to be thin. Hahaha.

I found the letter slot!

While I was waiting to catch the plane back to Sidney, sorry…. Sydney, I decided to learn how to colour in. Well if I get good enough I might send them a Christmas card made  by me myself alone.

I hope I can stay between the lines.

Goodbye  Tasmania. Goodbye dear Ellie and Ashy, it was very exciting to meet you.  xxxxxxxxxxxxx   I think I love you nearly as much as I love Milly.

Hello, Editor Des here,

Well I have been searching  all over Sydney for the best Christmas tree.

I found the first one in Cremorne when we were having a little holiday. I thought I really set it off.  I’m a true ornament.  Hahaha. Red and green is very Christmassy I reckon. Unfortunately  a man came and told me to get off in case I got electrocuted.

But how about a gold tree? Very trendy with its stylized reindeer.

I like a bit of bling!

My granny Jean lives in a place for people who are a bit old and weary.  Someone puts up a Christmas tree for them, so they don’t have to find all their old baubles and tinsel. It’s very pretty.

This will make Granny Jean happy.

In the Chatswood shopping centre there are big and little Christmas tree snuggled up  together. I think they must have felt sorry for the baby one and didn’t want to leave it behind. Quite sweet really.

Mother and child.

DO IT YOUR  VERY OWN SELF CHRISTMAS TREES

My guardian Pauline Conolly made her own Christmas tree this year. She decorated a little rose bush. Its a bit weird and creepy I think, but she seems to like it.

Pauline’s tree. Hmmmmm

And do you know what?  I made one too (OK, with a bit of  help from Pauline) from all the little wild  flowers in our garden. I think it’s much better than hers, don’t you?

Just look at that, eh?

I love my tree. It’s unique!!

Happy Christmas dear people, lots of love, Des.  xxxxxx

FOOTNOTE – Leura claims to be the prettiest village in the whole Blue Mountains. But their Christmas tree is just….well words fail me!

Did someone very short decorate this tree??

THE STRESS OF WRITING  TO SANTA CAN BE OVERWHELMING…..AN  ILLUSTRATED ESSAY BY EDITOR DES…. ER, THAT’S ME.

Hello. Do you think a fellow aged sixteen and a half is too old to write to Santa? I don’t.  And my guardian  Pauline Conolly often  says I am immature and childish, which I think means ‘young at heart.’   So I thought I’d give it a go.

I forgot a few things.

If you make the envelope look pretty it has more chance of catching Santa’s eye.  I read that in a book.

A bit of glitter helps make it stand out.

I kept asking Pauline to take me up to the post office, but she said she was too busy (*#!#*!#). When we finally got there it was closed! For heavens sake!

Oh, good grief!

I had to take my letter back home, and it will probably be too late to get to Santa at the North Pole.  Because look how far it is,  and that’s just from Sydney.  Little Blackheath is miles further.

I had to take it back home. I cried.

We  all had to visit my Grannie Jean in Sydney next day. Pauline said  maybe I could post it  down there, but I didn’t think it would be the same thing  at all.

Well we drove  back up the mountains to Blackheath as quick as we could on Tuesday. It was ten to five when Dr Bob parked the car behind the Post Office.   YES…I made it!!

Oh, the relief!

All the letters  end up in Mr Santa’s letter box in the North Pole. His helpers sort them out.

I think that’s my letter arriving.

All I can do now is wait and hope. If you happen to read this Santa, I would also like a lot of lollies (and ciggies…ha ha, only joking).  I have been quite good  all year in my opinion.

Have you ever written a letter to Santa? And did he bring what you wanted?? Pauline said she asked for a pony once, but she didn’t get one. Just as well…she wouldn’t have looked after it properly. If it wasn’t for dear Dr Bob I’d starve.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A COMMENT BELOW, ESPECIALLY IF YOUR NAME IS SANTA, OR FATHER CHRISTMAS. XXX