Day 8 - Friday

Hard to believe I only arrived in Cygnet a week ago but, then again, if you saw the state of the house, you probably wouldn't agree!

Floyd and I took an early morning walk up to the old part of the cemetery. Clearly at the beginning of the 20th century, the most important thing a woman could do was be a wife, with headstones bearing inscriptions like - HELEN, wife of PETER O'ROURKE - you'd be forgiven for thinking Peter was the corpse - it was the theme throughout and they died a lot younger too. Further along our walk, we saw a dead pademelon....wonder if it was the one Floyd chased from our yard a few days ago. On the main street we passed a proud redish chook outside the Nutt Gallery. This is possibly the same chook that stopped traffic both ways, a few days prior to arrival. Certainly not the sort of bird that would stop traffic in Sydney.....

Our afternoon adventure was to Lymington Beach, about 5 kms south of Cygnet. There's no sand, just pebbles and endless shells that looked like paua (mother of pearl), oysters (I think) and scallop. A few metres from shore, there's an apple tree with tiny apples on it - instant afternoon tea and a sizeable geranium bush - very odd. The surrounding area is a combination of Christmas trees, saltbush and gum trees - also very odd. All sorts of things (or seeds) must be blown in on those Southerly busters! Couldn't resist bringing a few apples and shells home with me - a bad habit of mine, don't know what I'm going to do with 6 mother of pearl shells when I have far too much clutter already....perhaps a good excuse to return to Lymington Beach sometime soon.

Came home to find, Mick, the good samaritan had dropped by in my absence and gathered up all the cartons and the garden waste I'd dumped in the back/front yard. What a man!