Speedo or Not

Foreign public swimming pools.

The question is should men be allowed to wear Speedo swimming suits?

You know the type.... I dare not post a picture today.

This morning was marked with trying on the old wetsuits. Very scary. My hubby had his from his glory days of surfing and the rest of the family had them too. Bert simply had to see if his would still fit or if the arm would fall off from dry rot when putting it on. I on the other hand, was trying to find one that might work for me. Ann said to try hers, but she is about one half of me and after one quick glance at the opening for trying it on, that idea was out. Then on to Jax's. By now it was clear that I was not meant to fit into the Pohl family. :) It went on with much effort. The legs, which were supposed meet the ankle, where more like mid-calf. The arms, mid-forearm. Bert did get it zipped, and it seemed like a winner (a tight winner) until he deflated my bubble by asking me if I could touch my toes. "Of course I can! But I don't think the wetsuit would agree...." So now we have to see about a rental.

All of this is because next week the whole Pohl Family (except for Jax and Brian) hope to go on holiday to Robe. Without Robe as the destination, no Pohl holiday would be complete.

It is a little surfing/fishing village about three hours south of here. Mostly forgotten by the rest of Australia, Robe still maintains the cosy atmosphere we all crave for getaways. So off we go.

On Sunday, Bert and I dropped by one for a little walk at one of his old stomping grounds. It was up in the hills not far from church in Morialta Conservation Park (state park) . This particular spot was great for rock climbing. He used to go out there with his outdoor recreation instructor from school. How lucky are they?

Anyway he took me out there and it reminded me so much places along the Buffalo River. Tall clifts, lots of trees, and all the people we saw, looked like they were having fun. There was only one small thing....

We hadn't taken anything differnt to wear. One of the rock climbers was saying, "It might just me be me, but you didn't come here to climb did you?"

Ah, the finds in your father-in-laws office. Most all of the piles of papers are medical records from patient of years gone by. A few piles of CD's litter the desks and floors. Filing cabinets line the wall on one side, while bookshelves finish off the decor on the other.

But over there, just past cup of pens and box of paper clips, lies something that neither blends in, nor stands out. Hmmm...looks old. In for a closer look.....well that is definitely true. A book of some sort, but it has a lacy blue print on the cover. Do I dare pry further? Sure why not....Ahha, a photo album. Bingo!

Grandpa Pohl had been a fighter pilot back in the day as Bert had told me. But here were the pictures to prove it all. He in the center of the bottome row. Apparently he was a fighter pilot instructor. This was back in South Africa where Bert was born. The family goes back for generations in South Africa. Some of them were originally Dutch, some Irish, some Polish, some English, and some we have no idea.

This is one of his planes we are assuming. The propeller made up for the small windscreen....
There were several pictures of this crash in there too. He lived far past the time frame of this picture, so either it was his plane and he survived or maybe it was not his.

So good things can be found in crowded offices.

Today was a beach day. On Saturday Bert said we were defiantly going for coffee or something on the Monday. Yeah! So we hoped in the yellow Corolla and away we went. It seems to be our style to start out with no particular place in mind. The "no particular place" turned out to be the beach front at Norlunga. It is a little surfie town about a 20 minute drive south of Adelaide. Tiny little place with one or two gift shops, a barber shop, half a dozen coffee shops, and yes....several surf shops. It was about 70ish, and the water was freezing, but that didn't stop the school kids.

Ahh, the day to relax.

This is a Stump Tail who was gaurding the trail we were on. Apparently he is one of the few non- "deadly" wildlife forms in Australia. :)

Bert just goofing off with the camera

If you ever get a chance, just run down a sand dune. It came highly recomended, and I'll definately second it.

Kids get to do some surfing for a school outing, what a life!

Teach them how it is done, preacher boy.

And that is the end of that...

Ann still needs to gain weight. So we have been working on it, one hill at a time. We go walking each morning after breakfast for at least an hour, sometimes two. Their house sits right in the middle of what feels like one of Adelaide's steepest hills. We are motivation for one another I believe. She feels like she needs to keep up with me, and I know that I should keep up with her.

Most often we take the "beach route". There are a countless number of things to see on the beach. Strangely enough, the thing that measured highest on the unique scale was not a person. It was the.................


ExeLoo

You have to push a button to get the door to open. Once you are in, the door automatically closes and easy listening music starts playing from some hidden speaker. Very ironic. There is a button to press for tissue paper. At the sink, you are meant to start on the left hand side with an automatic squirt of soap; then onto the middle for some water; finally, off to the far right with automatic hand drier. "If you can not finish all this in 10 minutes," warns the eerie man living in the Loo speakers, "you will be forever shamed when the door zings open." (not verbatim)

Eventually, when Bert is caught up with sermon prep, I have to ask where the cord for downloading photos is. But till then...

This is for Netter and Mom....and he even has a sence of humor. :)


"I want to spend every single night for three months going out with a different famous actress. You know, Halle Berry one night, Salma Hayek the next, and then walk on the beach holding hands with Leonardo DiCaprio."

– George Clooney, on his plan to confuse the paparazzi, to Vanity Fair

What about the Ice Cream Van?

You have to love them! Bert and I went for a walk on the beach and faintly in the background, the tinny little sounds of an Ice Cream Van floated by. Why is it that that sound is universally understood as ice cream music? We may never know. Thankfully though, I could believe that this was an ice cream van. It was pretty warm out and we were on the beach. In Glasgow, Scotland, we could hear the music out the window of our flat and it was raining and freezing outside....and it was the middle of winter. All things combined, it was hardly believable that young children would dig into pockets for a pound just to freeze further by eating a Mr. Whippy Cone.

They have to keep me in the family now, I know too much!

Mr. Bert looking all sexy in his 'safety goggles". His poor dad actually as to where those things when he is operating on someone. On the upside, you never loose them....

“Dad, what is all this for?” This was coming from a little boy eagerly watching his dad as he transferred building supplies from their shopping trolley into the back of their ute. “Well Mattie, we are going to build…..” that was as much as I heard as I passed by them. But it was great to see a parent taking time to do constructive things with their child.



That must be fun and very difficult all at once when you are a parent. Here you get to watch them make a hundred mistakes and take a gazillion times longer than it would take you. Thank you Mom and Dad, for all those times when you did just that. For all the cakes that were less than perfect, but now we can cook for ourselves. For “every hair on your head” that was a different length, but now we can cut hair. For all lawns that had to be asked if they had been mown, but now we can take care of our own yards. Dad, for letting us drive……oh wait, but hah we learned that anyway! But seriously, for each and every little thing that we may not have appreciated at the time, thank you.

“The Ute Legend”

“The ute is more than just a car. The ut is a thing of beauty. The ute is part of our national identiy. The ute is an expression of one’s lifestyle. The ute makes boys into men.”

“The ute is Australian”

(All this is taken from the Ute Appreciation Association of Australia)

Nothing kills the spontinaity of writting a bit in here like writting it twice. I am tellin' ya'. Well we will just have to save the creative, spontanious, happy me for another time, cause as a good sister friend of mine would say, " this computer is just not picking up what I am laying down." I do love you all, I just don't have to like computers right now....

I was thinking in Church last night (not durring preaching :), we should get a family tattoo. I was looking down at my finger that was smashed to bits in the Beemer door and I saw the hole Ernie painstaking burned into the nail. It is two thirds of the way to the end now and I was thinking of how sad it will be when it is finally gone. It could be something we did together and carry everywhere sort of thing. I was thinking some thing like this for the tattoo.

Do you think they would still let you be a prof with one of those on your bum Ern?

Or maybe Ern should just burn a hole in my nail when we see him again.

Pondering the Brown Snake

Yes, this is the terrible creature that has invaded our garden. He was last seen perfecting his tan beside a rock out the back door. I have been trying to work out the severity of these creepy things every since we came this year. Ann said they had seen a Brown Snake coming across the road and going into their garden a week or two ago. To me that meant he could be anywhere in Adelaide by this time and I would not have given it a second thought. But everybody here seems pretty worried about him. Trust the locals, I know. (In my mind..."But they are from the city..." "...nope shouldn't make a difference, just trust the locals.")

Nothing spells freedom quite like driving down the road, with your windows open, music on and most importantly.....not really being sure where you are. That, my friend, is the best part. It was just me and "my" little yellow Corolla, off to the shops today. Aww, I was putting this picture in so you could see the little car, but alas a bush is hiding the little guy. This is a picture of the Pohl's house here in Adelaide. You can see the ocean out behind in the background. I am sorry about the picture situation here. True to Pohl tradition, there are way too many computers in the house and I still can't find the pictures I need! So till then...