Summer, apparently

The first week of summer, well, wasn't. But then the warmer, drier weather of summer doesn't really seem to start in Tasmania until January. Then it runs through to the end of March. We've had a lot of rain and wind this week and temperatures down to about 4 degrees. On one of our morning dog walks this week, all three of us got completely drenched in the pouring rain. So when David spotted dog coats for sale at the local pet store later that day he snapped one up in XL for Gretchen. It's even in the Tassie state hi-viz uniform, you can't miss her. We thought she may object to it, but to our surprise, she really seems to love wearing it, even seems a little proud! She's given passing drivers a laugh too... but she doesn't seem to know she looks a bit silly. At least it saves a lot of towel drying.

It must be autumn

A sea of these classic fairytale fungi has appeared under the silver birch trees next to the garage. They're so pretty, but I dug them up, worried that Gretchen might fancy eating them.

 

Last days of summer

Tasmania has turned on some stunning weather to close out summer - the official dates anyway. In reality December isn't really summer yet and it does extend into March. We've had bright, warm sunny days and glorious evening skies. Perfect for being outdoors and having all the windows open.

Warming the bones

The flannelette sheets are gone from the bed. We're wearing fewer layers of clothing - no more "double pants", as we call it when you wear tights or thermals under your trousers. No more puffy jackets. The sunny days have been perfect for getting outdoors. We've had to start watering in the garden again, which I kind of enjoy doing in the longer evenings after dinner. Yesterday, we were able to tick a job off the list that required a dry and sunny weekend: staining the chook shed to protect the wood from the elements.

Every single one of our young fruit trees has flowered this year: the quince, the medlar, the plums, the peach, the cherries, apples, pears and even the apricot tree that we've had no luck at all with so far.

 And best of all - the warmer weather is perfect for a beer in the garden with the dogs at the end of a day of getting stuff done. Hard to beat.

Hello autumn, old friend

We've had more than 40mm of rain this weekend so far. Today, it reached a maximum of 5 degrees. We lit the fire right after breakfast. Waves of rain, sun and the odd flurry of snow or dump of dainty miniature hail pass through. I've left the chickens locked in.

Autumn is here, and with it fungi of various shapes and sizes is popping up everywhere. The grass is green again. The sun is well on it's way to the northern end of our mountain views. Some of our trees have already lost all their leaves and the rhubarb has died down for winter. And yet, there are apples and tomatoes still left to pick. We're enjoying this cosy day indoors... or at least would be, if David hadn't picked up an early-season flu that's made him really unwell. We haven't even had time to book in for the flu jab yet.

Signs of spring

It has snowed three times in the last two weeks at our place, most recently this dusting that we woke to on Sunday.

Still, there have been many signs of spring appearing. Buds on the fruit trees. Birds are more active. The days are longer (no more walking in the dark before 7am) and the light is different. Daffodils are popping up in the front paddock.

It was a gloriously sunny start to spring today, but still chilly. We woke to a thick frost, but glad not to be down in the thick fog in the valley.

Once the fog cleared, the blossoms down in Franklin village looked so pretty against the blue sky, I had to stop and take a photo.

Classic spring in Tassie

Warm sunshine. A strong, icy wind. Waves of misty rain. Sun again. Then heavy rain. Repeat. That's Tasmania in spring. One good thing about it is the glorious rainbows it produces!

Bonfire

After a dry spell at the end of winter, before the weather heats up and the fire permit season starts, it's time to burn the pile of cuttings, fallen branches, weeds and unusable wood. A bonfire! Ah the joy of standing around the warmth of a fire outdoors on a cool evening. It brings the neighbours out of the woodwork too.

Return of the pardalote

Yesterday, the first daffodil popped open in the front paddock. Everywhere we walk there's the whirring of tiny wings in our ears, as flocks of fairy wrens tumble through the bushes and peck insects around our windows. Blossoms and buds are bursting on the fruit trees with the quince, the apricot and the peach leading the way. The rhubarb has emerged from winter dormancy. And most exciting, the pardalotes who nested in clay banks at our place last year have returned, lending flashes of yellow to the trees around the house. Welcome to spring!

Winter in the hills of the Huon

It's powdery and soft and has coated everything. Snow was forecast down to 150 metres today and looking at the much lower hills across the Huon River from us, I'd say that's what happened.  It is just so pretty, I can't help but slip my warm gloves off to take more and more photos. My gloves are supposedly touchscreen-friendly, with a small metallic tip on both forefingers, but I have to tell you it doesn't work. But it's worth frozen fingers for this. There's always a toasty wood fire to warm up near after our snow excursions.

Icy, icy

The water coming out of our taps is pre-chilled, you could say. No wonder, when our very full water tank looks like this:

It's great for adding to a refreshing cordial or when the shortcrust pastry recipe says 'add iced water'. Not ideal for washing hands and faces, it must be said!

Snow Day

Today was a 'snow day'. Usually that means kids get to stay home from school (and some people can't get to work) so you play in the snow, make snowmen, cook, read, bicker, sit by the fire and get cosy. Everyone gets excited about a snow day. But it's school holidays this week, so a little different I guess. It's the first decent snow we've had this winter, after last year's record dump. I got up early to put some bread in the oven. After breakfast and before work, it was time to head out into the snow with the dogs. You can spot their Swiss heritage. They absolutely LOVE the snow, even old Baerli skips like a puppy in it. They lie in it, eat it, run, leap and play. Snow day for dogs, you could say.

Why, hello winter

Winter, day one. The sun has retreated far to the north. We woke to a thick white frost, making for a slippery walk down the driveway to let the chooks out. Down in the valley there's a blanket of fog, while up here, the sun is trying hard to change the grass from white to green before disappearing behind the trees for the day. It was hot crumpets with butter and honey for us this morning. Thermals on. More wood for the fire. We're ready for winter.

Sunrise walks

The days are getting shorter at both ends. The sun now rises after 6am, making it the perfect time to go for a walk or run to kick start the day. It's still cool, but light. Need to make the most of it before I'm back to walking in the dark, all too soon.

The dry, dry earth

It's a scorching day out there. About 35 degrees and low humidity. After our cold and snowy winter, summer has been so warm and dry it's hard to believe this is Tasmania. Our neighbour's tanks are dry and they've been getting water delivered to fill them up. Some towns in Tasmania are now on stage one water restrictions. Pressure is mounting on the Tasmanian government to declare drought. It's often said that Hobart is Australia's second-driest capital city after Adelaide, but boy it sure is dry this year. Up here in the hills, we normally get plenty of rain in spring.

In October, a man with a digger came and leveled off the grass area at the back door, because in winter the water wasn't draining away and it was like a bog. I sowed grass seed afterwards, just as we hit an incredible dry spell, with winds that whisked away most of the top soil to who-knows-where. Unsurprisingly, the seed failed to germinate. I tried again a couple of weeks later, timing it the day before an expected downpour. This time, the grass did start growing but we've hardly had a drop of rain since. The earth is cracked, parched and dusty. As much as I hate the idea of wasting water on grass, I've been out there with the hose a couple of evenings. People often comment how lush and green the grass looks in my photos (like in the header above) but here's what it looks like now. Complete with Gretchen's favourite blue toy.

Summer solstice

9pm. Summer solstice. My birthday is the longest day of the year and it's even longer in Tasmania. Lucky me.

Defrosting

As I write, it's warm and sunny. We've had three days of T-shirt weather. The welcome swallows are back again for the summer and swooping around, with their distinctive chirping. Bright yellow daffodils have popped up in the front paddock. We've been out in the garden on the weekend, digging, planting, weeding, watering, relocating raised garden beds. It's light enough to be outside at 6pm. The tomato and basil seedlings have popped up in their warm, indoor pots. Soggy patches of ground have dried up. The strong scent of wattle fills the air. Tiny buds have appeared on the fruit trees. Sebastian the rooster has a spring in his step and a look in his eye as he chases the ladies around the place. With our windows open, cheerful bird and frog noises float in. I know the warm days won't last (I'm not about to plant the potatoes yet), but for now, isn't spring wonderful?