Ants in my pants

I smile wryly as I acknowledge it is more than two years since I last posted. Same old, same old! It is not exactly that nothing ever happens — though it certainly seems that little of importance does, in the scheme of things — it is more that I don’t think that other people would be particularly interested. Still, I am notoriously bad at judging such things, so here I am again.

A little update

At the moment I am halfway through a degree in Professional Writing and Publishing. I’m loving it! I’ve learned a lot so far. I’ve attained a few useful skills, and a healthy respect for those who write well. I have recently joined the committee of Editors WA, which is the Western Australian branch of the Institute of Professional Editors (IPEd). I’m starting to feel I’m on my way to finding my feet in the writing and publishing world.

Picnic!

Now, on to more immediate matters. Hubby and I made it out of the city on Monday. It was a beautiful sunny day and we went up to John Forrest National Park for a picnic. We’d heard Hovea Falls was currently looking good, and neither of us had been there in decades. (Scary, hey?!) Well, the falls were quite nice, though I fear that the amazing waterfalls in Far North Queensland have forever spoilt for me the waterfalls around Perth. Still, it was pleasant!

It was an easy walk to the falls from the car park, which suited this unfit old lady just fine. The viewing platform over the falls was closed, presumably for maintenance, though the sign said “until further notice” which doesn’t bode well. I was forced to stumble nervously over treacherous rocks (not really — they were pretty tame as far as scrambling over rocks is concerned) to attempt some photos. Side-on, it was less than ideal but one can only do what one can do.

All was well until I lowered my camera and looked down to see I was standing on a teeming ant nest. It put me in mind of another picnic at John Forrest National Park as a kid. Something similar happened, and my parents ended up taking off my jeans and dipping me in the river to get rid of the nasty biting ants. I wasn’t keen for a repeat today, so I swatted off the ants that were visible and waited to feel them crawling up the inside of my jeans. You will be pleased, for my sake, that I didn’t have to wait long.

“Ow!” I exclaimed. (See? I have such a way with words.)

Fortunately, this time no stripping off of jeans was necessary and I escaped unscathed, except for a solitary ant bite (and numerous mosquito bites, but hey, them’s the breaks).

We took the “low road” back to the car park, sandwiched as it was between the river and the old railway. It was so refreshing to be in the bush again after several months of not leaving the suburbs.

Wildflower season has begun. If we can manage it, we will go on another picnic next month when the season will be well underway.

Back at the carpark and picnic area…

… we munched on omelette rolls and salad…

… followed by cappuccino muffins for dessert. (I’m afraid I just tucked straight into those without stopping to snap a photo. Sorry-not-sorry!)

Altogether, a lovely, lovely day.

Ants in my pants and all!