This is my favourite tree today. She lives on my driveway. Eucalyptus camaldulensis, I think. Marri in Noongar. You can see the stains where she bled resin last summer, much more than normal in my five or so years here and my theory why is that the summer was so hot.
Red gum resin is a stomach calmative and this tree served me well when I ate the wrong mushrooms that time. You can see the roof of my cottage in the background. This crazy dancing lady has been around and helping people with their upset stomachs for several hundred years.
They may look ordinary but these two jars contain things that are really fucking yummy. For the first time ever I made sauerkraut (on the left). Look I'm no lifestyle blogger but making this stuff out a mere red cabbage and some salt, watching it spill out of its jars and then eating it a week later, is well, transcending. Pounding to pieces a whole cabbage in a cast iron pot to make a gut health panacea, whilst thinking of all the politicians I can't stand was an illuminating experience.
On the right is a jar of pickled yellow eye mullet. Again, a preserve virgin when it comes to mullet. I've smoked them, fired them, fried them but never ever pickled a mullet. We'll wait and see. Every year I pickle heaps of herring into rollmops, so it will be an adventure taste test with the mullet. I pickled them because a commercial fisherman turned up from the boat ramp a few days ago as I was heading into work. He had a huge bag of mullet 'and one herring with its head bitten off that I thought you'd like Sarah', to pay me back from when I helped him out with a flat tyre.
This is a photo of my dog Selkie 24 hours after she took a 1080 bait from down on the beach. She's still sick here. She'd just had her stomach pumped twice - once with water and then with charcoal. Then she was on a drip over night. Having survived, she gave me a rather smelly hug, being covered in her own shit. I think even she was embarrassed.
They bait everywhere here for foxes, cats and feral pigs. It's a pretty full on thing to live with if you have a dog, that sense of vulnerability. Being surrounded in national parks is beautiful most of the time until this kinda thing happens.
After two days and a shower with me (it was too cold to wash her in the inlet) her coat and eyes glossed up again. The night at the inlet without her, while she was on the drip 100 kms away, was really strange. I just got drunk, thinking about what it would be like to live without her.
The bottom track and me.
My new washing machine. Actually this is the first time I've had a washing machine! I'm finally in the electricity economy after five years off grid. Terribly exciting to do a load of washing in a fifty dollar twin tub. Whoo!
View of my clothesline. I told y'all this was domestic affairs.
X Sarah Toa