Ok, it’s 9:50pm as I start to write this on March 5. It’s dark, there are thousands of stars in the night sky, and we’ve just had two male kangaroos grunting and boxing on our lawn.
March 5 – a day after Russ’s 67th birthday. It’s not that he’s 67 that devastates him, it’s that he’s no longer divisible by 11. Like I told him – another 10 years – 77 years old, and he will be divisible again. He’s just impatient he has to wait that long.
We had such a fun surprise birthday for him. First, we both dressed for golf in the morning – he for the men’s tournament, me for the ladies. As the men tee off 10 minutes before the ladies, I held back, then disappeared, changed out of my golf clothes off and started to prepare “stuff”. Folding chairs, camera, bags of chips, utensils, plates, etc. in the trunk of the car. Shopping done. Salad prepared and hidden in the back of the fridge, and the birthday cake under the bed. Anyway, after many subterfuges too long to go into, off we go, early evening, to a birthday dinner. He had NO idea.
We arrive at Sunset Beach, and all our friends are already there. Extra tables, tablecloths, appetizers, and whatever…
Might I just say that both Inge and Lesley had made birthday cakes? Here’s the one Inge made and decorated. It tasted as good as it looks.
We all had a wonderful time till night fell. Then, no insect spray ever invented kept the mosquitoes (mozzies) away, so in about 5 minutes, everything was packed up, kisses given left, right and centre, and we all scattered. Thanks to Di and Rob, Trish and Stuart, Fran and Max, Inge and Dave, and lovely Lesley for being such good friends. Robyn and Brian were away buying a new caravan, otherwise they’d have been there too.
Oh, I bet you’re wondering where the possums come in, since they are mentioned in the title of this blog. And no, they have nothing to do with Barry Humphries and Dame Edna Everage. These are REAL possums. Inge and Dave have a neighbour, currently on vacation. She is known in the area as the “possum rescue” for hurt or orphaned possums. Some mothers get run over by cars and babies have to be saved, some babies fall out of trees, and some have even worse luck.The aim is to get them well enough, old enough and savvy enough so they can be let loose again in the wild to fend for themselves.
Some are so young they have to be fed special formula with a syringe!! They are soft, cuddly, cute, clingly and I’m crazy about them!
That’s the end of this story. So, once again, from the land down under, I sign off, and wish you all a g’day.