Friday, 27 January 2012

From Wonthaggi to Geelong

Today we left mum and dad's place after a lovely couple of very restful days not doing very much apart from sitting on their back patio and gazing out over the rather beautiful back garden.

Looking straight down the yard.

Looking across to the right.

 The garden is looking the driest I've seen it for a long time, but the flowers are astounding and prolific.  My photo really doesn't do it justice.

The four of us Dad, me Mum and a little bit of David
We've arrived in Geelong.  A town that was (according to my diminutive great Aunty Annie Bartrop 40 odd years ago, who, by the way, once shoved her hand down a large german shepherd's throat while it was choking on a whole heart - she was looking after it and hadn't cut the heart up...) named when two blokes were arguing about it and decided to name the town after the first person who came along.  That person was a bullocky shouting at his team.  "Gee-a-long!"  Aunty Annie remarked that it was lucky he wasn't saying what bullockys normally yelled at their teams.  Urban myth of course but fun.

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