Once Upon a Time

I remember the first time I saw one of my teachers someplace other than at school. It seemed strange… it had never occurred to my seven-year old mind that they existed anywhere other than my classroom. A similar dynamic is true for police officers, nurses and other people who serve the public. An adjacent thought is the difficulty in visualizing people working in a profession other than the one they’re presently in. I bring it up because our friend Reinier falls into that category. Like many (possibly a majority) people in Australia and New Zealand, he chose to learn a trade rather than go to University. He completed an apprenticeship with a local clockmaker and went into business for himself for a number of years. Vince and I got to know Reinier because he is the pastor of our local church. He was called to the ministry in his early twenties, but his love for the chronograph endures. On his days off you will probably find him in his workshop (used to be the garage) or at a flea market, happily searching for his next "prize."

If you didn’t know this about Reinier, you’d give yourself a dope slap (as I did) when you found out because his home is chockablock with clocks, a timepiece in every spare nook and cranny. His family is accustomed to the 3 to 4 minutes of multi-tonal chiming that occurs at the top of each hour. (It’s impossible to synchronize that many clocks – he has almost 100 of them.) They rolled their eyes when I declared it charming: the loud clocks, soft clocks, chimes, gongs, cuckoos, you-name-it, all joining in a symphony of sound. But really, there’s something comforting about hearing the sweep of the second hand and the gentle chime at the quarter hour, a kind of reassurance that someone is keeping track of things for me and the rest of the world.

Two Men, an Idea and a Clock


I can’t count the number of times we have returned home much later than planned because our clockmaker friend and my engineer husband got to talking about pendulums and escapement mechanisms. So it was only a matter of time before my enjoyment of soothing tick-tock sounds merged with Vince’s love of gears and all things mechanical to bring forth an idea: hey, do you think Reinier would make a clock for us? What a great souvenir of Australia that would make! We asked, he said yes, and here are the results.

 

As if having someone you really like make a clock from scratch for you isn’t fabulous enough, the coolness factor took a quantum leap when Reinier invited – no, required – Vince to participate in the project. That’s like asking a puppy if it wants to play :-> We chose a grandfather clock, but it wouldn't be your grandfather’s grandfather clock. It would have a modern twist: it will hang on the wall and have glass sides so we can watch the gears in action. Reinier made sketches, chose the wood, and crafted the cabinetry in his workshop. A note about the wood - it is from the Jarrah tree, found only in Western Australia. It is extremely hard and rather dark. The closest American comparison would be mahogany. Reinier then made each gear by hand and Vince’s role at this point was mostly to watch and learn. After a year of working on it in their spare time, they had a clock!

 

 

  The final task was what Reinier called “deconstruction.” They took the clock apart one piece at a time, placed them in a chemical soup of sorts inside a large “cooker” which heated to quite a high temperature, and vibrated all the while, ultimately removing every speck of dirt, grime or dust. During this process, the ladies were provided an opportunity to share in the excitement. Translation: the fellows were very proud of their accomplishment and wanted to tell us all about it. Reinier’s wife Trudy had the foresight to take lots of photos during each stage, and she graciously shared them with me. Once the parts had cooled down, Vince had the honor of putting everything back together, under Reinier’s watchful eye. I’m sure he bit a hole in his tongue as he allowed Vince to remember, explore and ponder where everything had originally fit. He jumped in occasionally, but the final assembly was done by Vince himself. They allowed Trudy and me to watch them, and once I even got to help fit a small component. I suspect it’s because my smaller fingers could maneuver the tweezer-like apparatus into a very small space. It was a privilege and an honor.

 

About an hour later everything was back together and inside the cabinet. Before you could say grandfather clock they had hung it on the wall and were engaged in final tweaking. We held our breath as Vince cranked it up and set the pendulum swinging. Tick, tock, tick, tock, and woo-hoo! We had ourselves a clock, a grand memory, and a wonderful symbol of our friendship with the Noppers family.

Reinier had a couple of small items to add, like a closing mechanism for the cabinet, so he kept the clock a few weeks longer. The day before Vince’s birthday I invited Trudy & Reinier to bring the clock over, have some cake with us, and give Vince a happy surprise. They

 did, and we did, and Vince was thrilled. Here are some pictures of our awesome clock and the men who made it tick.



Master and apprentice. Notice the number of clocks in Reinier's study.



Finald adjustments to the second hand and minute hand mechanisms.



This is the tricky part. Will everything work after you place it inside the cabinetry?



Adjusting the pendulum. It's quite long, so we'll only need to wind the clock once a week.

Well done, gentlemen!



The Queen is Coming! The Queen is Coming!

Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh are at this moment winging their way to Western Australia for a State visit. The Queen will officially open the 2012 CHOGM (pronounced "choggum") meeting. CHOGM, which stands for Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting, has brought heads of state from as many as 54 member countries and of course their entourages. The better known members include Canada, India, Bangladesh, Kenya, Malaysia, New Zealand, South Africa, Uganda, many of the Carribean Islands, Nigeria and many other African nations. For a complete list, follow this link. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Member_states_of_the_Commonwealth_of_Nations

Perth feels like the center of the universe, or the police universe anyway. Security is tight and police presence is highly visible.  Streets are blocked off and the airport has been chock-a-block since the weekend. CHOGM 2011 has been billed as the largest ever gathering of world leaders in Australia and the biggest international event to be held in Perth for almost 50 years. There is a feeling of excitement in the air, and many local business are getting a boost - florists, caterers, limousine drivers, hotels, restaurants, and my favorite - fireworks providers. We've been treated to a sparkly show at least 4 times this past week!

CHOGM isn't all that exciting to the average Perthian. Every two years, Commonwealth leaders meet to discuss global and Commonwealth issues, and to agree on collective policies and initiatives. All of this will take place in the Parliament building and other venues which are closed off to the public. They'll have their meetings and finish with a leadership retreat. The festivities begin this Friday, October 28th and last through Sunday the 30th.

Thanks to the publication Perth Now! for these photos of the Queen's arrival in Australia. She began her visit in Canberra, Australia's capital.

The Queen, however, arrives tomorrow, and all Perth is aflutter. 1,000 people are expected to be at the airport to cheer for her. While she is here she will host a garden party on Thursday, attended by invitation only. On Friday she is hosting a "sausage sizzle" (Australian for barbecue) and the whole town is invited. We will be able to see the festivities from our balcony, and that will probably be as close as we get. Over 20,000 people are expected to attend.

Our mahjong group has decided to join in the fun. Since none of us received an invitation to the garden party, we have decided to throw our own! Invitations were sent and on Thursday while the invitees are dining on cucumber sandwiches and tea, we will be partying as well, although I imagine our fare will be slightly more pedestrian than theirs. One little twist : everyone attending our party is requested to dress like the Queen. I have raided my wardrobe for a frumpy dress, sensible shoes and of course, a strand of pearls. I bought a hat and some fancy trim to add to it, and am looking forward to toasting Her Majesty with some of my favorite ladies. Pictures and details to follow on Friday! 

Back in Blog Mode Again

Yes, it has been a long time. We've been on holiday, Mom hasn't been well, and we were without computer for a few weeks. I even thought about giving up on the blog. But I can't let go of this cyber thread that connects me to family and friends. Communication can be difficult - most of y'all are at least a dozen time zones away and your day is my night -- but I can tell you stories here that you can read at your leisure. September was spent living out of suitcases and I've spent much of October recovering from our travel to Kuala Lumpur, Los Angeles and Houston. I've taken enough photos to keep me scrapbooking for at least another 5 years!  Here are some of my favorites.

I was able to get some serious grandbaby-holding time. Ethan was teething and drooled all over my shoulder. I wore it with pride!

Father and son, having the time of their lies and making great memories. 

Granddad and Owen at the arcade.

We celebrated Vince's sister Jeanette's birthday during the Vetter family reunion in San Antonio. Left to right: Jeanette, husband Charlie, Vince, and his sister Carina. Note vintage family photos and diagrams behind Jeanette and Charlie.

Souvenir shop treasures at Santa Monica pier. The smiling starfish with shades caught my fancy, as did the paper clip surfers.

Vince, aka surfer dude, helping Mom choose wigs to wear during chemo. Who knew it could be so much fun?

More blogs are on their way. The Queen is coming to Perth later this week and the town is all a-twitter. There are more police than civilians on the roads, and the city has been spruced up for her visit. My mahjong group has planned a special tea party in her honor, or should that be "honour." Can't wait to share the invitation and photos!  I plan to post more tomorrow. :-> 

Mom's Making Progress

Sometimes I need to take a timeout from talking about Australia and talk about home, family and things close to my heart. It has been a busy few weeks for our family. Mom has made the rounds of her family doctor, radiologist and surgeon, not to mention all kinds of tests in preparation for surgery. Stress test - good. Breathing test - check. Last week she was admitted to hospital for two procedures. The first one involved searching for evidence of any cancer in her lymph nodes, via a very tiny camera inserted via the throat. Good news - nothing in the lymph nodes and the only side effect was some difficulty talking. The following day (Thursday) the surgeon removed a portion of her lung. She spent a little over a week in the hospital, hooked up to various machines which pulled fluid out of the lungs (since the one which was operated on can't do it for itself while healing) She's also using an inhalation therapy machine, which pumps medicine into her lungs, which loosens phlegm which settled into her chest from the surgery. And don't forget the oxygen machine. All this technology... it makes me aware of the amazing number of things our bodies do for us all the time and which we take for granted. It also increases my (already great) appreciation for research and innovation in medicine. Imagine how much slower her recovery would be if her lungs had to clear themselves while in such a weakened state. The surgery itself would probably be as dangerous as the cancer. Such visionaries... I'm in awe.

I am pleased and relieved to report that my mother is home from the hospital and continuing to recover. Her diabetes contributed to her extended hospital stay. She didn't have much of an appetite (it hurt to eat, not to mention trying to negotiate all the tubes and wires), which made her blood sugar levels a bit unstable. Insulin shots helped to smooth those out (another research miracle), and now her task is to maintain a regular eating schedule, rest, and let her body heal.

Mom's surgeon seems to think that chemo will not be needed, but her GP has referred her to an oncologist for his opinion. I'm grateful for that. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there. That will take place in a couple of weeks. In the meantime she is receiving lots of get well cards and family support.

I hope to write again soon with even better news. For now, I will end by saying I am extremely grateful to my sister Dianne, who faithfully sends informative emails describing the details of doctor visits, surgery, recovery progress, and easy to understand explanations of the complexities of surgery, disease, and medical equipment. Thank you, sweetie!  Thanks also to everyone who has called, emailed and written their interest and support for me, Vince and especially my Mom. It is appreciated and it is helping. You bless all of us.

Twice a Child

No matter how well you prepare yourself, you're never really ready for the moment when your parents stop taking care of you and you have to start caring for them. This moment has come for my sisters and me. It occurred when we learned that my Mother has lung cancer.

I doubt I'm saying anything new to most of you, but it's my turn to go through the experience. It sure is weird. My parents were barely 20 when I was born, which makes them younger than the parents of most of my peers. I now understand the jittery nerves and breath-holding moments that happen while you're waiting for news from the doctors. How big is the "spot"? What exactly is a PET scan? Will it hurt? And of course, what are Mom's chances of survival? And what quality of life will she have? My Mom was a pack-a-day smoker for 50 years, so this is not exactly unexpected. Still, we all naturally hope and pray that a miracle will happen and Mom will be spared the trauma, pain and ultimate surrender that often accompany this diagnosis.

When my parents divorced my Mom found herself a single mother with 4 little girls under the age of 10, with only enough child support to afford the most spartan of conditions for us. She went back to full-time nursing after a 9-year break, took correspondence courses to update her medical knowledge, and made sure we all did our homework, brushed our teeth and did our chores. She even co-led our Girl Scout troop for a year. Mom's a real survivor, but she fell apart when the doctor told her that the dime-sized spot on her lung that he had been keeping an eye on had grown and it was time to do a biopsy. Sometimes having medical knowledge is a curse -- Mom knew that meant he suspected cancer. My youngest sister Dianne lives about a half-hour drive from Mom. By interesting coincidence they both have the same physician (GP). It has fallen to Dianne to receive the panicked phone calls, sift through the tears and garbled phrases, and communicate the news to her sisters. She has done a fantastic job providing clear and timely information. Thank you, sweetie!

In times of crisis, you learn new things about your siblings. I'm the oldest, so people expect me to take charge in moments like this. But I'm halfway across the world so I can't do it. Geography somewhat dictated our roles, but it's the youngest who has been the most parental. Granted, Dianne has three grown children, so she is probably also the best qualified. The sister I thought could handle it the most easily took the news especially hard. These are good things to know about your family.  Mom's in the no-computer-for-me camp, so I don't have the luxury of Skype, but in lieu of being there I have racked up a few hundred minutes on my cell phone in the past few weeks. Vince and I do our best to make her laugh and get her to talk about her fears. It seems to help.

It has been three weeks since that first difficult conversation. Many others have occurred since then, but yesterday we received the good news. Although the spot on my Mom's lung is indeed cancer, it is encapsulated and the nodule has not metastasized. Tomorrow Mom, Dianne and the doctor will discuss treatment options, which will most likely include surgery followed by chemotherapy. Belt and suspenders, Vince calls it. I wish I could be there.

When Life Imitates Scripture

I am so proud of my husband. Well actually, I'm always proud of him but I'm especially thrilled to be Mrs. Vetter (or Mrs. Vay-tah, as our Dutch church friends say) at the moment.Vince preached a wonderful sermon at church this past Sunday.

I'm not sure who was more surprised to see Vince in the pulpit - himself or the congregation. He has given sermons before, but not recently. So there he was on Sunday, before a rapt audience, telling them all about how Gideon and his army won a victory in spite of ridiculous odds.

We've been studying the book Judges in our weekly Bible study for the past several weeks, and Reinier, our pastor, has been preaching from it for the past month or so. There have been a number of lighthearted discussions about how even scaredy cats like Gideon can demonstrate that when God is behind you, it is possible to overcome anything, even 35,000 warriors. Reinier was planning to preach on the way Gideon used tests to make sure he could trust that God was asking him to do something. Then Reinier caught the "creeping crud" and was unable to give the sermon himself.

Well, now... several months ago Vince let Reinier know that he was available to give a sermon should he ever need someone on short notice. And here was an opportunity. But what timing -- in the middle of a really busy time at work and only 3 days to prepare. But nobody else stepped in to do it, so Vince was our guy. He read and edited, practiced and practiced, stayed up late rehearsing, and I got to hear it a dozen times or so before Sunday. I even got to help -- I pointed out that his description of how the Midianites "had been womping down on Israel for years" might be hard for our Dutch and South African crowd to understand (he changed it to "beating up on") By Saturday it sounded great to me, but of course I am biased.

Sunday came and it was time to deliver. Vince mouthed the words to the hymns but did not sing (if you've heard Vince sing before, you will understand), led the service, and then it was time for the sermon. I had been a little nervous up to this point. The average age of our congregation is around 70 years old, and they are very set in their ways. They like their sermons straight up, their hymns slow and traditional, and they're not very good with change. But there they were, enthralled with this Texan who smiled and thundered in turn, and who brought Gideon's fears, prayers and victories to life. By the end of the sermon you could have heard a pin drop. Afterward, he received many compliments such as "well, you did a lot better than I thought you would." High praise from our church members, and they meant every word!

Vince did a great job. I know it's not just my opinion, because the elders have already asked if he would be willing to give another sermon when the pastor is on vacation. And Reinier joked that he's going to have to acquire a Texan drawl. Good on ya Vince. And Reinier, we're lookin' forward to seein' ya back in the saddle real soon.

Day #11 - and Enough Already

Writing every day has been a real challenge, not to mention interesting, occasionally overwhelming, and certainly an exercise in self-discipline. When I reached Day #10 and found myself at a loss for appropriate subject matter, I had a rethink about why chose to crank out 30 blog entries in 30 days. The purpose was to get out of a slump and restore my credibility as a friend, family member and correspondent. I'm very pleased to announce that I have won the battle with writer's block, and I hope those of you who have (rightfully) assumed I had abandoned this blog will give it another go. And for those who hung in there during my dry spell, thank you very muchf or your patience :-> 

The Internet is filled with stuff nobody wants to read, and when we return to Houston this blog will probably acquire that status. Meanwhile, however, I will continue to write something of interest or humor at least once a week.

Day #10 of 30 - Eating Out

According to an online restaurant guide (Dining in Perth), there are more restaurants per capita in Perth than anywhere else in Australia, with at least 32 different styles of cuisine. I don't count Mexican because I haven't yet found a "Mexican" restaurant that serves anything faintly resembling those delicious south-of-the-border offerings we love so much. But that's another story.

I could not find out how many restaurants there actually are in Perth, but they do seem to be everywhere. The average restaurant is small and homey (about 20 tables) and with a delicious, specialized menu. Haven't seen any Cheesecake Factory-style menus here - most places have less than 15 main dish courses. Which reminds me - they have a different dining vocabulary than we do.

Entree:  this is what Americans call an appetizer. Paté, prawns (shrimp), soup, etc.
Main: The main course
Salad: Salad is generally served with or after the meat
Dessert: sometimes called a Sweet. 
Cheese: Many Australians prefer cheese to sweets after dinner

You can order an entree as a main if you want to eat a lot of it, and you can occasionally get a main in entree size if you ask. Portion sizes are small in comparison to the average American belt-busting ones, and it is considered bad form to ask for a doggie bag. You'll be met with a blank stare, and when you explain what you want, you will often be told that "we just don't do that here." If pressed, they will probably do it for you, but don't expect a warm welcome the next time you visit.

That sounded rather negative, but in fact, eating out in Perth is quite delightful. The food is super-fresh and well flavored. All the produce is from local farms, and there is a plentiful local meat, fish, poultry and seafood. The coffees are fabulous, and the desserts are too. There are some interesting favorites, like sticky date pudding (a rich, chewy cake often served with caramel or butterscotch sauce), pavlova (a soft, billowy meringue with marshmallow consistency), and chocolate cake, which tends to be dense and flourless. Guess which course is my favorite?  There are many wonderful fish to try like emperor, pink snapper, barramundi (Perth's answer to tilapia), salmon, and something called dhufish which sounds strange but tastes mild and good. 

Sticky Date Pudding with Butterscotch Sauce - yum!

In spite of this abundance of lovely restaurants, we don't eat out much. It's just too expensive. Dinner for two usually costs well over $100, including dessert or coffee (people usually choose one or the other) but without wine. If you eat out 3 or 4 times a week like we used to do in Houston, you won't be able to afford much else. A nice alternative is to try one of the bajillion little cafés for breakfast or lunch. There's almost always one or two within walking distance, and they have a way of making an omelet and toast look and taste fit for a king. Or just have a coffee. This seems to be a favorite pastime of Perthians. Cafés are perpetually occupied with small groups of people having a coffee or a "cuppa" (cup of tea) and a chat.

There is a special procedure to follow when eating in a restaurant. I prefer to think of it as a restaurant's rhythm or style, but it can be overwhelming at first.

1. Make a booking (a reservation). If you don't book ahead, you might get a table but it will be accompanied by a look that says "you got lucky this time, but don't try it again."

2. Arrive at the restaurant, give your name to the host or hostess, who will seat you.

3.  Within 5 minutes (usually), a "drinks waiter" will come over and ask if you would like anything. Chilled tap water is served on request, in a large corked bottle and small glasses (no ice). If you don't order wine now, you may not get another opportunity.

4.  5-10 minutes later, depending on how busy it is, another person will come and ask for your order. This is the "entree waiter." Don't ask about the specials of the day. That's the job of the "mains waiter."

5.   A few minutes later your "mains waiter" will visit, describe the day's specials (there are usually 2 or 3) and answer your questions about the menu. Main dishes generally come a la carte, so don't forget to order the sides like vegetables, potatoes, rice, etc.

6. Your entree will be brought to you by yet another waiter. If you require more water or drinks, let this waiter know and they will summon the drinks waiter back for you.

7.  10-15 minutes later your main will arrive. It might be brought by the same server who brought your entree, but not always.

8. The "mains" waiter will probably stop by and ask how your food is. At the end of the meal, they will return and ask if you'd like any dessert or coffee. In some restaurants, the owner or night manager may do this. Gives them a chance to talk to their customers and make the restaurant experience more personal.

9. Coffee. A beautiful ending to the meal. Almost every restaurant we've tried makes not only coffee but latte, cappucino, macchiato, espresso shots, but... they don't do decaf. You'll have to get by with herbal tea if caffeine isn't for you.


10. All those waiters, and none of them will bring you a bill. You have to go up to the front of the restaurant (or maybe the bar), tell them your name or summarize your order, and they will find your order ticket and charge the appropriate amount. You can linger a moment longer with coffee, but you'll be expected to leave once your "docket" has been paid.



When eating out, no tipping is required! For the reasons mentioned in yesterday's blog, waiters do not receive tips. We kept forgetting this at first, and Vince would get some funny looks from the employees. Then they would hear his accent and nod their heads -- "they're American, they don't know."  (But they would still smile and say thank you!) When I found out how much a server earns ($20-25 per hour), I stopped tipping. It is logical to assume that without the incentive of earning a tip, service would be poor. Not so. Because these jobs pay so well, they are highly sought after. And the restaurant community is a close one: if you mess up at one restaurant, word will get around and it will be hard to find another position. Traditionally you start at a small café and work your way up to the more upscale restaurants, with pay going up accordingly. I suppose the exorbitant prices we pay for restaurant meals goes to pay all the charming and efficient waitstaff. So... even though it costs an arm and a leg, it's still worth it. We are helping the economy (unemployment is 5.8% here) and making Australian memories to take back with us.

Day #9 of 30 - HOW Much?

I have commented before on how expensive it is to live in Perth compared to other places. Over the past several months I have pondered this mystery and discussed it with several people who have grown up here. After piecing together the various bits of information I have gathered, I have a theory which might explain it. So here goes.

The first and most obvious element is taxes. The free health care system (ironically, it is called Medicare) is not available to people from countries who do not provide free health care to Australians who visit there. While this makes sense, it still hurts to pay for benefits you will never receive. Also, in 1992 Australia made saving for retirement compulsory, in a program called superannuation. Broadly speaking, it forces everyone who works to save a certain percentage for their retirement. It's similar to the USA 401(k) system, except that your employer also makes contributions to the fund. The idea is to help full-time workers save enough money to live in retirement. The Australian version of Social Security pays only 25% of one's salary.

So... taxes pay for benefits and pensions. Then add duty (for imported items) and transportation to get everything to this remote place. These costs make their way into the price of goods and services. We do well with food and alcohol, because most of it is produced locally, hence no duty and lower delivery costs.

Why does it cost so stinking much to live here? I personally think that the largest contributing factor is the high wages people are paid. When we first moved here, I found it amazing and frankly, rather irritating to know that someone with barely a high school education could earn as much money as I was earning, with a Masters degree and 25 years work experience. But... over time my opinion is changing. The concept of work-life balance is starting to make sense. (See my earlier blog entry on the subject http://vetteroo.blogspot.com/2010/01/not-quite-perfect.html )

The average Western Australian has the equivalent of a high school education. There is no expectation for people to go to University. Why not? Because there are plenty of great-paying jobs for people with skilled labor qualifications, and the apprentice system is alive and well. For example, house cleaners start at $18 per hour, and an inexperienced construction labourer starts at $17.50 per hour. It costs around $100 for someone to mow your grass (although with last year's dry weather, this service isn't much in demand). This is completely opposite the USA, where you can get your grass cut for $25-50, house cleaners earn closer to $10 per hour, and construction workers earn minimum age ($7.25 per hour).

People get paid a heck of a lot of money to work here. Minimum wage is $15 per hour, and the average Australian earns $28 per hour, or $1,124 per week.

Before you start packing your bags to move here, keep in mind that Australians pay significantly more income tax than the average American. High income earners (>80,000) pay 48.5% in income tax. So no matter how much you earn, you're going to give a big chunk of it back to the government. These taxes pay for the very generous government services here. While this is of great comfort to Aussies, expats who pay into the system do not receive benefits back except in a minor way, such as being able to use the library.

Why do Australian workers earn so much more than Americans? A couple of reasons. First, there is no class or race of people who are willing to work for so little. There are very few refugees here, and the foreign immigrants here are almost always more highly educated than Australians. The closest thing they have are Aboriginal peoples, but their spiritual and psychological makeup is completely unsuitable for working - they go walkabout, they can live on almost nothing, and working is not important to them. The only alternative is to pay people a living wage -- enough to provide an incentive to work.

Costs are high but so are wages, so an equilibrium is maintained. The result is that you can be a gardener, bricklayer or hairdresser here and support a family on your salary. You can be a waitress* and not depend on tips.  There is a thriving work force and a healthy blue collar class of people who work hard and are proud of what they do. Like America in the fifties.

** No tips? See tomorrow's blog for more.
 

Day #8 of 30 - Off Season

"Let's do one more set, guys - my 6:30 client canceled," said Marc, the young whippersnapper who can inflict more pain on me than any soldier. I'm talking about our personal trainer, who puts us through our paces three times a week, and who is mostly responsible for our weight loss and improved fitness. I know it's mostly Marc because left to my own devices, I would hit the snooze button faster than you can say "blow off your workout." Some days the only reason we show up is because we paid in advance, and the only thing capable of getting me out of bed is the thought of not getting our money's worth. Greed. Sloth. Sometimes it works for you. I think that falls in the category of God taking bad things and using them for good.

So anyway, we somehow make the half-mile drive (yes, drive - it's pathetic but quicker) and stretch for 15 minutes so we don't tear anything important. It's a quiet day at the gym. In fact, it has been a quiet week here. Winter has truly arrived and so has the nesting instinct. People start canceling appointments, going on holiday to warmer places like Bali and Singapore, and generally forget about their workout regime. I'm sure that's why they have contracts and make you pay up front.

Poor trainers. They'll be lonely for couple of months, until the weather starts to warm up. Then, as the realization that beach and bikini weather is approaching, they will be swamped with desperate clients, queuing up at the treadmills and grunting in unison in group training sessions, and complaining about how unfair life is. Yeah, kind of like us on a tough day. :->  Meanwhile, we have extra room and Marc has a little extra time and attention to give us as he inflicts torture -- oops, I mean helps us reach our fitness goals. He tells terrible jokes, pushes us farther than we feel like going, and manages to stay positive in spite of our whingeing (complaining). Good on ya, Marc.

See you tomorrow (muscles permitting) for Day #9.

Day #7 of 30 - When the Shoe is on the Other Foot

When one is immersed in a foreign culture, it is easy to assume that we are the only ones who are confused about what is happening around us, and that the burden of adapting is ours to bear. But every now and again I am reminded that it does work both ways, as the following email demonstrates. I received this exchange last week from some mahjong friends.

From: Lyn Gilmore
Sent: Wednesday, 8 June 2011 12:35 AM
To: Anita Vetter et al…
Subject: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

Hey y'all,

I was at Target at Bullcreek today and they are selling genuine USA Campfire marshmallows for $3 a bag near the checkout. Expiry date 2012.  Since I brought back some graham crackers it looks like we are well on our way to all the fixings for s'mores.  Who has a backyard fire pit?!

Cheers,
Lyn

------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Julie Porter
Sent: Jun 9, 2011 10:32 AM
To: 'Lyn Gilmore' , 'Anita Vetter' …

 Subject: RE: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

Ok . following questions from an ignorant Aussie

1.  How are  'campfire' marshmallows different?

2.  Is the expiry date important other than the obvious?

3.  What are Graham crackers and why are they important, ?

4.  You will be pleased to know that I learnt that ' fixings' are 'ingredients' from watching F Troop when I was a child. BUT WHAT THE HELL ARE S'MORES ?

5.  Firepit? Seriously?

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Lyn Gilmore
Sent:  Wed, Jun 8, 2011 at 8:51 PM
To: Julie Porter et al…
Subject: Hey yanks :-) Real marshmallows at Target

I totally sympathize Julie! 

1.       They are big fat soft fluffy pillows of marshmallow-y goodness.  Different from the small yet delicious marshmallows served with coffee etc here.  About twice or three times the size.  Also, pure white.  Never pink.

2.       Mostly the obvious on the expiry - often USA products are pretty close or past their expiry when found.

3.       I will have to bring you a graham cracker.  Not sure I can adequately explain...it's a sweet cracker...kind of like a digestive biscuit?  We also use them crushed and mixed with melted butter for pie crusts.

4.       S'mores - traditional Girl Scout and Boy Scout treats (Girl Guides?).  Two blocks of graham crackers, with one or two roasted/toasted campfire marshmallow pressed between, along with a delicious square of (traditionally) Hershey's milk chocolate. http://images.foodnetwork.co.uk/recipes/traditional-smores.html

5.       They are WAAAAY better with the marshmallows cooked over an open fire.

It's a thing.  Like vegemite.  Something American kids all grow up with :-)

The vegemite "thing:" Australian kids grow up with vegemite spread on toast. Sometimes they add butter or cottage cheese. It looks like motor oil sludge and to my American palate it tastes just awful. But hey, they're not so crazy about pumpkin pie either. ("Why would you add sugar to a vegetable and put it in a pie?) And how about corn bread, chicken fried steak, and tamales? Anyway, I'm looking forward to a "s'mores night" as soon as it stops raining and we find a park with a barbecue pit. See you (munch, munch) tomorrow for Day #8.

P.S. My friend Lyn writes a wonderful blog called "Lyn Upside Down" which also addresses life for Americans in Australia. You can find it at http://lynupsidedown.blogspot.com/

Day #6 - The Cool Factor

If you have ever traveled overseas, you may already have come across the "no ice" syndrome. That's when you order a drink in a restaurant or from a street vendor and it comes (a) in a small glass and (b) without any ice. A request for ice cubes elicits an eye roll and the response "but madame, your drink is already cold. What for do you need ice?" If you persist, they will comply (at a leisurely pace) by bringing you a glass with 2 or 3 small ice cubes in it.

The same is true in Perth, where we have found that cold drinks are rarely served with more than a couple cubes of ice, if at all. We've also noticed that a high percentage of people enjoy hot drinks with their meal instead of cold ones. Dinner guests almost never accept cold drinks when we offer, and they look at us with blank stares when we ask if they would like a glass of iced tea.  Seems most Australians haven't heard of it, although you can find the odd bottle of pre-mixed tea in the grocery stores. Again, not refrigerated.

Why are there no iced drinks in Perth? Vince and I came up with a couple of theories.

1. It's a holdover from the early settlers from England. It's a jolly cold climate there much of the time, and people drink hot drinks to help them stay warm. The cool weather means that stored drinks never get that warm, hence there is no need to cool them down. Consequently, people are accustomed to having hot drinks with their meals.
   
2. Economics. When you purchase a drink here it comes in a 250-350ml bottle (8-12 oz) and if you're in a restaurant they will give you a glass to go with it. Only a few places provide fountain drinks. They do not give free refills, so people usually make one drink last the entire meal. Adding ice would either (a) take up space which could hold more of the beverage in question, and (b) during the course of an entire meal, it can water down the drink, making it less desirable.

In the US we have come to expect free refills in fast food joints as well as restaurants, and it is hard to imagine a place that does not serve fountain drinks. It is hard for us to imagine a watered down drink because, knowing we can have as much as we want, we load the cup with ice which means the cup will be only about one-third full of actual beverage. We can drink that long before any serious ice melting occurs.

Geographically, even the most northern American cities are south of most European cities. Boston is much warmer than London in summer, for example. And Houston is just "damn hot" as Vince says. We need ice in our cold drinks. If we're not cooling our drinks, we're using the cold glass to cool our foreheads.

This difference in approach is well illustrated in the story of my friend Cindy, who recently had reason to purchase a refrigerator for her apartment.  At the appliance store she requested a refrigerator with an ice maker. The salesman showed her a model which had a small freezer with two ice cube trays. "No, no, I mean an automatic ice maker." He showed her a model which had a small freezer section, plus two ice cube trays which were attached to the freezer and which turned over to release the ice cubes into a tub. You still had to fill them manually. In exasperation, Cindy complained "look, I need an icemaker that will make lots and lots of ice. Ten trays worth at least, that refills itself and empties ice itself. Do you have such a thing?" The salesman was stumped. He looked Cindy in the eye and asked "why would you ever need so much ice?" with a huge shrug of her shoulders and an exasperated voice she said "Ice -- it's what separates us from the savages!"

Cindy eventually found a refrigerator to meet her needs. Vince and I have several plastic ice cube trays which we fill manually. We have commandeered the one drawer in our freezer and use it to hold ice. Lots of ice. Ten trays worth at least.

Tomorrow is Sunday and I'm taking a day of rest. See you back on Monday, for Day #7.

Day #5 - Silver Linings

Another day of rain and I'm missing Houston, which makes it easy to complain about the things in Perth I find less than enchanting.

• Like the fact that their technology is about 15 years behind what I'm used to. For example, when iTunes released all the Beatles tunes, I couldn't download them because iTunes won't make them available to Australia. Hmmm...
  
• Clothing comes in lots of colors, as long as you like black. Shiny black, matte black, black & white stripes (no, that's too daring), faded black and dark black together, black cotton, black wool, and if you're a guy, you can wear a white shirt to go with your black pants. Ladies clothing sizes seem to end at 16, and that's an Australian 16 which in the USA is a 14. Sometimes I can wear them, sometimes not. I've given up on shoes - nobody carries size 12. But the stores are filled with black ones.  Black is the color of business clothing, and the locals follow this code faithfully. I have seen people strolling St. George's Terrace, the main drag of Perth's CBD (Central Business District) in everything from a suit & tie to a sundress (with bra straps showing) and flip flops -- and each person considers themselves dressed professionally. Some days I wear my tomato red dress into town just to brighten up the place.

• It is nearly impossible to go out to a restaurant on the spur of the moment. They take "bookings" (reservations) days, even weeks, in advance and have no problem turning people away if their book says the restaurant is full. When you book a table, you get it for the entire evening, regardless of how long you actually stay. So... the good news is that you can stay as long as you like, but the bad news is that many people are turned away when, if they had arrived 20 minutes later, they might be able to get the table once the customers finish their dinner.
  
• After 18 months here we still haven't found a place which sells anything like a burrito, taco or enchilada, let alone a proper Mexican restaurant. Gotta make them at home, which we do on a regular basis!
  
• House prices are through the roof. The average price for a 3-bedroom home is about $500,000. That's around 2,700 square feet. The bedrooms are small, small, small and the bathrooms are tiny. Guess they save it all for the living room and patio. Gotta have room for the barbie.

But... even these inconveniences aren't all bad. There's just one Freeway, the Kwinana Freeway. And while one fender-bender can tie up traffic for an hour, we live just one exit from the office, so we have been spared most traffic grief. And... I have saved lots of money NOT buying clothing and have managed to do just fine on my existing wardrobe. Nobody really looks at what you're wearing unless it's a real dress-up occasion (or it isn't black).  So nobody knows I'm wearing last year's sweater, and I can use the extra money for more fun things, like a vacation! And I really do have enough iTunes for the moment -- I still have a box of CDs in storage in Houston that I can load into the computer and onto my iPod.

The hardest thing of all about being in Perth isn't the weather, or the food, or the traffic. It's being so darn far away from y'all - our family and friends. I'm sending lots of hugs your way and thinking of you today. See you tomorrow for Day #6 - I gotta go crank up the Brooks & Dunn and make some enchiladas.

Day #4 - The Good, The Bad and the... Different

It's Thursday June 16th, the fourth day in a row of rainy weather.  Farmers all over WA are delighted since their crops will grow better and their livestock won't suffer. My neighbor's parents, who own a farm about an hour's drive north of Perth, have been paying $1,000 per week to have water trucked in for their cattle and for home use. I expect a big thank you from them all -- it was our shattered windshield that triggered the storms, I'm sure. :-)

Cold, wet weather makes me want to cook comfort food, like beef stew and cornbread. My recent marketing brought to mind several observations about things that are really good about living in Perth.

** Car insurance is really cheap compared to Houston. $584 for a whole year, and that's for the super premium version. Only $300 deductible (they call it "excess" here) and the service is fabulous. It only took one phone call to report my incident and they arranged everything else. The problem was fixed within a couple of days. The glazier actually came to my home and did the work on the spot. 

** There is no tipping here. When you eat at a restaurant, the price you pay is all you pay. Granted, it costs a bundle to eat out, but servers are paid a living wage (approx. $20 per hour) and don't expect gratuities. I thought this would mean that service is poor, but it doesn't. These kinds of jobs are highly sought after and people work to keep them. Great service and no need to leave a tip - wow.

**  Golf is incredibly inexpensive. On weekends it costs $20 per person and only $15 per person on weekdays. The courses are beautiful and well designed. I'm going to get in as much golf as I can in the next 2-1/2 years! In theory, I could golf every day...

** The price on the tag is what you pay. No extras. I LOVE this. It makes it easy to figure out whether I can truly afford something or not. How does this work? There's no sales tax here. Well actually there is, and it's called GST, but it's already included in the price of whatever you buy.

** And my favorite thing... non-food items in the grocery store cost the same as they do elsewhere. Such a balm to my pet-peeved soul, which always hated that a tube of toothpaste at HEB or Kroger costs twice as much as it does at Target. Now I don't have to make a separate trip to buy cleaning products, lotion and shampoo, or nail polish. I can get it all at my local Coles or Woolies.

Writing about this has put me in a most cheerful mood. Who cares about a little rain? See you tomorrow for Day #5. Yup, I'll probably winge (complain) about a few not-so-great things in Perth, but I'll be sure to include some good things too. Until then, cheers!

Day #3 of 30 - Scrapbooking

It's kind of like Kindergarten on steroids. You get to color, draw, cut out stuff, glue things to paper, and make a really big mess. You can even take a nap when you get tired. About two years ago my friend Jean introduced me to the Lone Star Scrapbook store, a wonderland of paper, ribbon, stickers, buttons, and creative ways to document one’s life. From that moment I was hooked. 

What I didn't know at the time was how consuming this hobby can be. One moment you're taking out a few sheets of paper and a couple of photos and next thing you know five hours have passed, you haven't made anything for dinner and you're late for an appointment. And then there's the associated paraphernalia. For example, there is a little machine to do almost any measure, cut and/or paste action imaginable. I used to use a little die cut machine called an "Epic" to punch out alphabets and borders for my scrapbook pages. I got it on sale because a newer, fancier model was coming out but I still invested over $100 in the machine and the die cuts. Then it was $10 here, $20 there for the cutest little flowers, alphabets, geometric shapes, etc. 

I considered myself queen of the scrapbook heap until word spread about an even cooler machine: the Cricut. It's a little computer that does all the stuff the Epic did, except you don't have to crank a little handle round and round or even line up die cuts to get the most number of die cuts from your paper. This critter does it all for you. It works on a system of software cartridges and you feed a sheet of 12"x12" paper into it, then tell it how big you want your lacy border, palm tree or whatever to be. It calculates everything for you, cuts it, and shoots it out ready to peel off and put in your scrapbook. Even better, Cricut has collaborated with Disney, so now I can make enough Buzz Lightyear cutouts to keep my grandson Owen happy. I waited a year before investing in the Cricut, and again I was able to snap up a bargain because... yes, there's another version due out in any week now. Oh, I forgot to mention the "Gypsy," which lets you plan out a scrapbook page and then it tells you which shapes you will need and the name of the cartridge they're on. It is possible to spend huge bucks on these conveniences. More than once I have heard a lady in a scrapbook class whisper to me, "I couldn't bring myself to tell my husband how much I spent on scrapbooking this month. He wouldn't like it if he knew." Oh right, Vince, you're reading this? Well, I only bought a few pieces of paper and a glue stick-- didn't spend more than $20... really.

Fortunately for me, my favorite scrapbook store here in Perth ("Just Scrapbooking") has set aside a day every month to teach people how to use these very cool machines, and the best part... they let you use all of their cartridges for free. At around $30 a pop, you can save serious money by coming to "Bug Day" and cutting out as much stuff as you think you'll need until the next time. You still have to buy your own machine, though. The next version of the Cricut is supposed to print things in color for you, so you don't have to buy colored paper at around 60 cents a sheet ($1.10 in Australia). Sounds like a bargain, but haven't we all been seduced before by cheap printers with cartridges that cost almost as much as the hardware? So I think I'll stay at the cro-magnon stage of die cut machines for a while, and maybe pick one up in two or three years when the next version comes out -- the one that makes dinner for you too!

So far I have completed two scrapbooks - one for Vince's daughter Sharon and one for Owen, who turns five years old on Sunday (Happy Birthday, sweetie!). Here's a sample page in his honor. See you next time, on Day #4.

Day #2 of 30 - Mahjong

Today is Tuesday, June 14th - a happy American Flag Day to you!  It's a safe bet that most Australians are oblivious to this holiday. Here in Perth it is a cold, gray day and currently it is pouring down rain. (Murphy's law again -- no rain for a year and two days after our windscreen is broken it rains...) The good news is that the winter equinox is only 8 days away. I'm already looking forward to those long sunny days.

On Tuesdays I play Mahjong with a terrific group of ladies. They are the first people I met in Perth and collectively they have helped me to do more than adjust to life here, but to really enjoy it. Julie, who grew up in Western Australia (or WA as everyone calls it), knows where to find everything from the freshest tomatoes to the best physiotherapist. Gaylene, who is from Victoria, or "Over East" as Perthians call everything on that side of the country, has explained many Australian expressions to me such as "drop by this arvo for a cuppa" (stop by this afternoon for a cup of tea and a chat). Here are a few more:

Chook - chicken. "The chook at Cole's looked beautiful. I bought some to cook for dinner."

Beautiful - great, fabulous, lovely, wonderful. If a dish tastes especially delicious, they'll say it was beautiful.

Arvo - afternoon. Many words are shortened to end in either "o" or "ie".

Bikie  - motorcyle rider, with the implication they are in a gang. A bikie gang = Biker gang. As opposed to a biker, which is a cyclist.

Salvos - The Salvation Army

Freo - Fremantle, a port town about 15 minutes southwest of Perth.

But I digress... Our ladies mahjong group is a mix of people from Australia, Canada, India, Singapore and the US. We meet every week to play Mahjong, have lunch and indulge in conversation. Some ladies are more competitive than others - Cindy, a fellow Texan, competes passionately for each week's title of "Mahjong Queen" (you get to wear a plastic tiara and have bragging rights until the next session) and gets quite miffed with herself if she does not "Mahjong" (win the game) at least 5 times in an afternoon. Me, I consider myself successful if I achieve Mahjong once during the day, although I usually do better. We usually manage about 20 hands between 11am and 3pm.

The most important part of the day is lunch.Today is my turn to be hostess and I'm serving beef and vegetable stew, corn muffins and apple crumble - hearty fare for a cold winter's day. Because it's really not about the Mahjong. It's about getting to know people, make friends, and help each other. My life in Perth is better because of my "Mahjong Ladies."

A typical mahjong setup. It's a fun game to play - I look forward to teaching y'all when we return to Houston!

Let's Try This!

A bright Monday morning to everyone! I've come to the pathetic and overdue realization that you cannot be a perfectionist and maintain a blog at the same time. So, in a desperate effort to break my prolonged writer's block I present to you: 30 Blogs in 30 Days. These will be shorter and without so many photos, but there will at least be something. I apologize for not keeping my promise to keep family and friends informed about Australia and up-to-date on our comings and goings. Most of the time our life is just not that interesting, but... Australia certainly is, and I will endeavor to share more of it with you.

Okay, Day #1 - Golfing Again.
After almost five months of classes, our instructor says we're ready to try golfing on an actual course. Yippee -- we finally get to be "real" golfers! I've joined a group of ladies who golf once a week. They are wonderful, especially for putting up with my floundering efforts as I make the inevitable beginner's mistakes. I've been on the course three times, survived 9 holes and managed to keep my score, well... let's just say it's improving. I scored 76 on my first attempt (on a par 36 course), and I am thrilled. I thought it would be closer to 100.

Golf class at 8:00am on a Saturday morning. Mostyn, our instructor, is the man in black not holding a golf club. He's awesome.

Hard at play!

Yesterday, Vince got on the course for the first time. He has an incredibly powerful swing, although his accuracy still needs some work. I didn't realize how fast the game goes once you're on the course. And there are people only a few minutes behind you, waiting for you to take your shot and get out of the way so they can play. We managed to keep up the pace by playing "Ambrose" style, which is like "best ball."

After an enjoyable 9 holes and a coffee at the end, we returned to our car to find our rear window smashed -- by an errant golf ball! Other golfers who saw us stopped to exclaim they'd never seen such a thing happen before. What are the odds, right? (I'm thankful for good insurance!)

See you tomorrow, for Day #2.

Fremantle

Vince met a former client (and a Texan) on the street recently (actually, that happens a lot here). He and his wife had just moved to Perth, which provided me a great opportunity to do some more exploring. This is how I know I've acclimated: I think "Oh, it will always be there. I can visit another time." Spoken by the same girl who lived in Southern California for almost 20 years and only went to Disneyland once. It's still summer here, so a trip to the ocean seemed in order. Fremantle is a charming coastal town, reminiscent of Galveston and parts of San Diego in that it has a large port, quirky personality and a lovely coastline. My new friend Silvana and I spent an afternoon moseying through shops, had a coffee, and then toured Fremantle Prison. She had a friend visiting from Texas, so all three of us took the "Doing Time" tour. 

Fremantle Town Hall and clock tower. This part of town (the West End) is known for its Georgian and Victorian style architecture. 

A spot of welcome shade on a blistering hot afternoon. In the distance is the Port of Fremantle, where the Swan River meets the Indian Ocean.  The port is named after Sir Charles Fremantle, who captained the ship of English colonists who settled here in 1829.

On the weekends you can usually find several craft fairs / flea markets, some of which are set up here, in the courtyard of the Fremantle Arts Cente. Even better are the permanent "Fremantle Markets," known for wonderfully fresh fruits and vegetables. You can find almost anything there. Both Perth and Fremantle have quite a bit of outdoor sculpture around town. Here is a work by Greg James - a tribute to his friend and fellow sculptor Pietro Giacomo Porcelli.

A close up of Mr. Porcelli at work.

Enjoying a coffee and a salad before exploring the prison. 

The Roundhouse, site of the old Fremantle prison. Like many buildings in this area, it is made of limestone. The prison itself was built by the convicts who eventually lived there. Our guide told us that the original plan for settling a colony in Western Australia (WA) did not include a prison. The idea was that with enough land and food for everyone, no one would commit crimes and prisons would not be needed. But human nature being what it is, it wasn't long before they had to lock up people for everything from stealing to murder. The story goes that there was not enough labor in WA to construct the building, so Captain Fremantle sent away to Mother England asking if they had any extra prisoners they could send over.  As it happened, during that time England's "gaols" were overcrowded and they were thrilled to jettison off a few hundred convicts to Australia. When the prison ship arrived, the men had to continue to live on it for over a year, AND they were forced to quarry and cut the limestone, and then build the prison themselves, in blistering heat as well as wet winters. You can get an idea of how tall the building is from looking at the ants - er humans - below.

There is some gruesome history attached to this place! The mesh you see above is not soft. It's made of hard wire and will slice through anyone who tries to throw themselves over the rails in an attempt to either escape or kill themselves. Ouch!

 The prison was in operation from 1855 through 1991. Conditions were harsh. Prisoners were only allowed showers 3 times per week, even during the hottest times of the year.

 The kitchen, which was run by prisoners. There were 27 positions available and it was considered a dream job. Prisoners working with food had to meet hygiene standards, which required them to shower every day before starting work.

 The barbed wire here is so sharp it can slice clothing into rags in seconds, not to mention body parts.

 Our tour guide explains that the beautiful chapel was never occupied by convicts. It was built for the prison warden and his family. 

 The prison contains four wings, and is four storeys high. The walkways are made from local Jarrah wood.

 The prison cells were so small that a man could not spread his arms out completely without touching the walls. Sleeping was on a hammock-style bed. Each cell held one prisoner, and had a heavy door. There was no opportunity to socialize after coming inside for the day. Conditions were so poor that a journalist described it as not merely discipline, but suffering. In 1890 they doubled the size of the rooms by removing a wall between two cells to improve conditions there.

 And if that's not enough to make you behave, there's always flogging. Our guide describes the use of the cat-o'nine-tails. That's where we get the sayings "cat got your tongue" and "room to swing a cat." The person performing the action had to be able to whirl the instrument around his head a couple of times prior to each lash. The highest number of lashes that could be sentenced was 100. The usual number was 10 or less. In a horrible but interesting aside, she mentioned that if a prisoner could not tolerate the full sentence, they would be taken to hospital, allowed to heal, and then return for the remainder of their punishment. I left here vowing never to even think about breaking the law, ever.

The ultimate punishment - death by hanging. Fremantle Prison was the only place of legal execution between 1888 and 1984. During that time, 43 men and 1 women were executed here, all for murder.  Maudlin but interesting - Most executions took place on Monday morning at 8:00am. The method of hanging was considered exceptionally humane. The trap door and subsequent drop into the pit below ensured the prisoner would die quickly, avoiding a slow painful death by asphyxiation. <Shudder>

In 1988 there was a fire followed by a riot at the prison which lasted for two days. This led to an investigation into conditions at the prison, followed by orders to close it down. In typical bureaucratic fashion (the same the world over), it took three years to comply. Today the site is clean and prisoner-free, and it hosts thousands of tourists each year. The building is now part of the National Trust and is considered an important part of Western Australia's heritage.

It is a bit out of character for me to write about such a gruesome and depressing subject. But I have the same idea in mind -- Australia was settled mostly by convicts shipped over from England, some of whom were arrested for stealing a loaf of bread or piece of fruit to feed their families. They're not all innocent of course, but the tough conditions they endured has helped shape the psyche of today's Ozzies. Fearless. Team spirit. Physical strength and fairness. Time for play as well as work. Camaraderie. Humor (usually bawdy).  Survivors and pioneers.