Closing up our home: our double life in action

The process of closing our Phillip Island home is now upon us. Tomorrow week we expect that our 'migration flight' to Mitchell (in outback Queensland) will be complete.

After locking doors, crossing the bridge is our last step off the island -- a final farewell to the penguins, mutton birds, our friends and Phillip Island.

Ahead lies warmth, the mighty Maranoa River, and our friends and community in Mitchell.

For the duration of our trip, which we estimate to take about one week, I will not be writing this blog. I will begin again as soon as we arrive in Mitchell. I predict I'll have lots to say about changed conditions in Mitchell -- my first impressions after the devastating flood in early February.

Meanwhile take good care of yourselves and I look forward to being in touch again, very soon.

Mitchell flood recovery, Doug home and hospital

It's a strange feeling to have the flood crisis coming to a temporary pause, while at the same time feeling a build-up of apprehension regarding my operation tomorrow. There hasn't been enough time to practice calmness: to prepare my mind. For six weeks following my hernia operation there will be physical things I can't do, therefore I've tried to get everything up-to-date or done ahead of time. Most of the things on my list are ticked off.

Doug arrives home this afternoon, with my St Francis manuscript safely in his hand luggage. After my operation I'll continue work on this book. Not in his 20s any more, Doug is exhausted, and although I've tried to think of and do everything I can to make his home-coming relaxing, there will be things he has to do before leaving for Melbourne tomorrow.

Our two German shepherds are booked into a kennel for the next few days, and our friend and neighbour Jeanette will care for Katie at home. I must remember to get the dog's vaccination certificates, ready to present at the kennel.

A positive attitude to life is always a good thing; however, flood water, mud, stink, mosquitoes, sand flies, damage to personal property and stress are the reality in many parts of Queensland and New South Wales. People are hurting, and badly. This is a fact. It's okay to feel a sense of loss; to grieve for the damage done to personal possessions -- as well as to community assets.

Many tears are being shed; there are long sleepless nights; tempers are running ragged. Yet, in spite of everything, these people of outback Australia are a resilient lot who help one another in times of need, and never miss an opportunity to laugh, smile -- and give a hug.

We are grateful that we're insured and have another house in which to live. Most people in Mitchell have only one flood-affected home -- we realise we are incredibly fortunate.

Due to my operation, I won't be writing my blog for about one week. When I return, my blog will include lots of photos taken in Mitchell -- and more stories to share with you.

Meanwhile, take care of one another and keep smiling -- but also know that it's okay to feel your loss.

PS
Today's photos show the Maranoa River in all its innocence and beauty.

Frog calls have been so loud that you could hear them booming over the telephone. They are calmer now. People are finding frogs in all sorts of unusual places.

Pets, clothes and 'stuff': Mitchell floods

When evacuation orders are given (in case of flood or fire), people's pet animals are the reason why some people refuse to leave.

Regular readers of my blog will remember John the horse whisperer and his horse Honey. John, now in his 80s, decided to stay in his home, with Honey safely indoors. Fortunately the flood waters missed coming inside by less than 1 inch.

One of our other neighbours returned to their home to find waist deep water, but their caged birds safe, and their cats high and dry but calling urgently from the top of trees and the roof.

There are many other stories of dogs, cats and birds in evacuation centres. Many of these stories are touching.

Nearly all my clothes were either wet, smelly or stained so my wonderful friend Heather offered to pack up my wardrobe and take everything home to her place to wash, dry and fold ready for storage. What an angel!

Until now I hadn't realised how personal and intimate clothes are to me, and what a comfort it is to know that a close friend has taken on the responsibility of them. Knowing Heather's generosity and quiet efficient manner, I feel humble and extremely grateful.

While Heather packed all my clothes and personal things, Doug and Heather's husband Bob packed all our paintings, books and anything else able to be saved. Everything able to be saved was loaded onto Bob's truck and taken to a storage unit in the Mitchell's industrial estate.

Out on the verandah, Doug and Bob hosed down tables and chairs, metal bookshelves and office furniture.

PS
Today's photos were taken prior to the flood.

You can see Katie's favourite place to sit in the sun, overlooking the Maranoa River. Water went over her bed, and also over the front fence, which was knocked over.

John and his horse Honey remain a Mitchell identity.

The photo of our kitchen shows the benches which went under water. Both refrigerators were knocked over.

Stuck on Phillip Island: disaster in Mitchell

One of the best things about my blog and Facebook is that I'm in touch with so many people from all around Australia and the world. I've had the privilege of sharing the many pleasures of our life on Phillip Island and in outback Queensland.

'Robin's Double Life' has taken on a life of its own!

Meanwhile though, Mitchell is still a disaster zone, with the hospital evacuated and over 300 people living in evacuation centres. Flood waters are expected to reach a second peak, due to more rain upstream.

Photos I've seen show water lapping around the floorboards of even high-set Queenslander type homes. The nearby towns of Roma, Charleville and St George are also suffering record flooding. Apart from aircraft, Mitchell is completely cut off from the outside world.

Frog song can be heard loud and booming over the telephone. It's like a frog opera! Meanwhile, stories of snakes seeking higher ground are commonplace. It seems that the power is off at most places throughout Mitchell. Apparently the local supermarket took all its perishable food and more to the evacuation centre. Everyone is helping everyone, which is the way people behave in an emergency in outback Australia.

Doug is planning to fly up to Mitchell on Sunday. This will not be a straightforward trip as it involves a car trip to Anderson, then a bus to Melbourne, plane to Brisbane, bus to Toowoomba, and finally a bus to Mitchell. It's expected that the river will have dropped by the time he reaches Mitchell, but what he finds remains to be seen. How much damage we've suffered is yet to be assessed. Mud and mould will be a huge problem, along with water damage

Will the house be too damaged by flood water and mould to ever live in again? Will it be a matter of an insurance payout and demolish, or a refit? Will we need to build elsewhere in the town? On stilts? The options go on and on and my mind buzzes with this disaster that affects so many people.

But one thing is certain. We will return, no matter what. Mitchell is our home. We love the town, the community and our friends. We love outback Australia!

Inspite of everything, I still love the Maranoa River!!!

PS
I've included photos of our house in Mitchell, prior to flooding. We expect the water to have come as high as the window sills. Not a good thought!

A Disaster Declared in Mitchell, Outback Qld

Today has been spent with my mind swinging between the floods of Mitchell and the reality of our trip to Dandenong (two hours by car, west of Phillip Island, on the outskirts of Melbourne), where I had stitches removed from skin cancers on my ear, forehead and chin.

Later, as I wandered around the Dandenong market -- where a huge array of goods were for sale, with buyers of all age groups and nationalities -- my mind was back in Mitchell, buzzing with concerns, possible outcomes and a deep sense of loss -- both for ourselves and for all our friends in Mitchell and surrounds who are flooded.

The irony of our house name in Mitchell struck home today. We had a sign made that said 'Welcome to the Bering Sea'. The former owners of the property had porthole windows built into the front door. The name was meant to suggest our migration from Phillip Island to a warmer winter in outback Queensland, like the Phillip Island mutton birds who fly to the Bering Sea for the winter. Today, our house is surrounded by a sea of flood water, and the photo shows our friend Richard checking our house, in his kayak. You can see Stego's house to the right. Stego is, of course, safe here on Phillip Island. The water is now up to the house sign!

Meanwhile the river has risen higher still. In all probability water is waist deep throughout our house. This is the worst flood in white history.

We knew there was a risk of flooding when we bought our home alongside the Maranoa River, but somehow we didn't expect it to happen!

I feel a profound sense of disappointment and loss. It's not just a house and its contents, but a way of life. After five years of living seven months of each year in Mitchell, we've made ourselves very comfortable, fitted into the community, made friends and feel the outback is home. It's a unique outback lifestyle that is at risk rather than a house and its contents. After all, the contents are mainly stuff.

The only thing I really care about is a manuscript I wrote about St Francis of Assisi and his gift with animals. I have only one copy of the book and it's sitting on a bench in the kitchen. I hope the flood waters haven't destroyed it. Nothing else matters as much as this book which took over one year to write and involved research which took us to Assisi in Italy. Time will tell.

Meanwhile, our hearts go out to all our friends and neighbours in Mitchell who are suffering stress and dreadful damage to their homes. We are thinking of you.

The pull of my island home from Mitchell outback Qld

The day draws closer to the time of our departure from the red dirt country of Mitchell in outback Queensland to the blues, greens and golds on our island home: Phillip Island in southern Victoria.

There is sadness in saying goodbye to so many good friends and neighbours; sadness to be leaving my river, the Maranoa; sadness to be leaving the wide open spaces and warmth of Queensland. On the other hand, there will be the pleasure of greeting our friends and family down south, and pleasure in our return to the island where beach walks with our dogs are a daily routine.

We are greatly relieved that 15 year old Katie Siamese is sufficiently recovered to be making the journey back with us. She isn't as nimble as she once was, however, she can jump up on to low chairs and she isn't in pain.

It's at this time of the year that I begin to feel the push/pull of the island. The mutton birds will be flying back to their rookery after the honeymoon phase, to lay their large single eggs en masse around 24/25 November. Every year it's the same, through the decades, through the centuries -- since time began.

It's a signal to me too, a signal to pack up and 'migrate' south to Phillip Island where we'll spend the summer tracking the mutton bird cycle of egg, to chick, to maturity, to their departure in April on their migration flight to the Bering Sea and Alaska.

That will be my signal too, the signal for us to pack up once more and leave the island -- 'fly' north to our home and friends in Mitchell, outback Queensland.

So the cycle of our double life continues.

My favourite place: Mitchell outback Qld

Partway across the foot bridge crossing the Maranoa River I pause and reflect: most evenings.

This is what I see: the footbridge, the murals painted on a concrete pylons of the road bridge, the Maranoa River, my mulberry and bottle trees, and usually Snow White the egret as well.

Then, of course, there's Major my loyal and very handsome German shepherd who takes me on a walk every evening.

The image I see at this special place is imprinted on my soul. It's a place where I feel centred and 100 per cent involved in the moment. Who could ask for more?

Fishing on the Maranoa River -- Mitchell outback Qld

The year 2011 has seen the water level in the Maranoa River remain high enough to allow small fishing boats to be put into the water at the Old Crossing. From here, boats can row (or motor) up to the bridge, stopping off at prime fishing spots to try their luck with line, tackle and bait.

People also fish from the footbridge and the riverbank with good results. Yellowbellies, bobbies and a few other less desirable fish are caught, with the highly prized cod caught only occasionally.

Fishing is a popular sport for young and old alike, and a pleasant way to spend time in a beautiful and very peaceful place.

Family fun on the Maranoa River: Mitchell outback Qld

Mitchell's Maranoa River is a magnet for all those who love fishing, photography, walking, painting, picnics and barbecues -- and yabbying.

This river -- the fastest flowing river in Queensland -- loops its way around the town of Mitchell. Consequently, the river is within easy walking distance of most people's homes. Kids often use their bikes to ride to the river, armed with fishing rods and tackle.

As far as I'm concerned, living alongside the Maranoa River is exactly where I want to be. I love watching the river in all its moods, I love the river red gums and the complex ecosystem in and around these magnificent trees.

The colours sing inside my head: blue sky overhead, with white trunked gums dropping their reflections onto the mirror surface of the river.

Two men, a dog and a fence: Mitchell outback Qld

There's a brick and stone fence at the front of our property and although it serves no purpose other than decoration (it's not connected to any other fence or gateway) it is the perfect place for an informal chat with passing neighbours and friends.

Bathed in early morning sunshine and with a backdrop of the Maranoa River, Doug, Rob and 8 week-old Charlie exchanged news before Rob left for his Mitchell business Bulldog Bikes and Doug continued the exacting job of tiling our bathroom.

Snow White the egret: an irresistible photo opportunity

There's an egret that lives in and around the concrete causeway that crosses the Maranoa River in Mitchell, outback Queensland.

Every evening I see her and attempt a photo -- even though it's seldom with good results. But she's so graceful and beautiful!

So here are my best snaps to date. I know the focus is far from perfect but at least you'll get an idea of her charm.

Maranoa River in flood, a formidable force

As the fastest flowing river in Queensland, the Maranoa River has carved a deep riverbed, has deposited vast quantities of sand and is responsible for dispersing many problem plants.

Mexican poppies (as shown in the photos) are just one of the many thistles, burrs and other weeds spread by flood waters. On the other hand, the flood plain of the Maranoa is enriched with a top dressing of nutrients, and also a deep soaking of moisture.

Where Womalilla Creek flows into the Maranoa -- south of Mitchell -- the river flows beneath huge banks of golden sand.

Majestic river red gums line the river creating nesting hollows for bats, owls, cockatoos and parrots. High up in the pale golden blossoms, honey eaters squabble and feast. The ecosystem surrounding each and every river red gum is complex and fascinating.

A Bobook owl calls out to me -- rest in the calm

Every evening, a Bobook owl calls from a river red gum growing alongside the Maranoa River -- over the road from our home. I love its distinct 'mo-poke' call and believe that the sound carries for several kilometres. It is a strange mixture of soft sound and loud.

One of our friends painted a beautiful watercolour of a bobook owl which we bought recently at a local charity art auction. Elizabeth Gearey's painting (as shown in the photographs) show the large golden-yellow eyes of the owl, and from its position in our kitchen, I often feel it watching over me.

I'm glad I'm not a mouse, sparrow, moth or beetle!

In the velvety hush of the evening, beneath a vast star-studded sky, the mournful hoot of the owl reminds me of the good and the bad. Every day I'm feeling a little better; however, my feelings of frustration at not been able to do much (because of almost constant nausea) threaten to overwhelm me at times.

This the owl knows. He tells me to be patient and rest in the stillness and calm of the outback. I will try.