This blue-tongued lizard didn't poke out of its tongue

Over the years I've kept six blue-tongued lizards as pets, each with their own name, personality and intelligence.

In 1993 wrote a book about alternative pets. The first edition was called New Faces and it won Book of the Year Award in 1995, in the CBC Awards. The second edition came with the title Alternative Pets and it's still available through the Australian Book Group in Drouin, Victoria. I wrote the book because I wanted to show kids how to care for their pets properly, and how to teach them various tricks and games.

For instance, how to teach a gold fish to swim through a hoop: how to teach a budgie to recite nursery rhymes and telephone numbers; how to teach a yabby to roll a piece of carrot on its side and into its cave; how to house train a ferret and teach it to sit, stay and retrieve, just like a dog; and how to have fun with land hermit crabs moving house.

Today Doug picked up this blue-tongued lizard that was sun-baking on the road. We didn't want it to be run over by a car. It was remarkably quiet, not poking out its bright blue tongue in alarm.

Releasing it into an area of coastal scrub nearby, we wished it well; wondered if it had mate; and if it had live young in its belly.

One of our pet blue-tongued lizards called Silver gave birth to 12 live young -- an event we witnessed in its entirety.

Come walk with me: Phillip Island

This afternoon was perfect for a dog walk along the beach: a sunny blue sky, a balmy 25°C and no wind at all. On the way down the board-walk, a broken mutton bird egg shell caught my attention. Perched on top of a clump of New Zealand spinach, its contents had been sucked clean -- probably by gulls. Here was evidence of one less chick for the rookery.

The only other person on the entire stretch of beach was a fisherman with a small shade tent and his dog. Consequently, as soon as we passed the man and his dog we let our two German shepherds off their leads for 45 minutes of free running and swimming.

Major found a huge stick on the beach and proudly strutted along the sand. Then he took the stick for a swim. Del stood by, waiting for an opportunity to take the stick, but Major is very possessive and dominant and wouldn't let her anywhere near his prized possession.

With the moon nearly full and the tide extra low, the exposed reef was clear to see with its beds of sea grass and clumps of sea grapes. I observed with disappointment that the diversity of seaweeds, shellfish and other small marine creatures living in the rock pools has diminished over the past 15 years -- at an alarming rate. This is due to the increasing pollution of Western Port Bay from shipping and the run-off from housing estates and industry.

As if on cue, a gas tanker moved up Western Port Bay's narrow shipping channel, its diesel motors remarkably quiet. I have no idea where it's heading. Perhaps Asia?

On King Island, in the 1980s, I remember the richness and diversity of life in the rock pools. Starfish, sea anemones, crabs, tiny silver fish, seaweeds the colours of the rainbow, abalone, mussels, limpets, brittle stars -- -- --.

Walking back up the track to the house, I paused beside a tall flowering dock. Even weeds have beauty.

Reminders of childhood: linking past and present

When I was growing up in the suburbs of Melbourne, the times we spent at our family holiday house (on the Mornington Peninsula at Blairgowrie back beach) let me be myself, let me experience of the delights of the coast.

In Melbourne I existed: at the seaside I felt myself expand.

Wandering down our Phillip Island beach track today I saw clematis seeds clustered in amongst tea tree. I saw the long silvery plumed tails, each containing a seed. Suddenly I was a five-year-old, and the fluffy seeds were fairies -- -- -- --.

Further down the track blue berry rushes (Tasman flax-lily) were ripe with buds and a few blue flowers. In a month or so these will develop into bright blue berries.

A coprosma caught my attention with its round shiny leaves. My brothers often used their leaves to whistle lively tunes -- -- --.

Past, present and future all rolled into one. Mostly though I try to live in the moment.

From Island to Melbourne and back again

It's a 2 1/2 hour car trip from our part of Phillip Island to inner Melbourne -- add to that two medical appointments, some shopping and lots of waiting around and I'm exhausted. Doug is too, because the concentration required to drive in heavy city traffic is considerable.

The expertise I received from my two specialist doctors was, however, worth the trip.

In between appointments, I wandered along Glenferrie Road in Malvern -- a very trendy area. I felt a bit like a fish out of water. All those 'beautiful' people; the roar of traffic; all that 'stuff'. I found myself longing for outback Queensland -- -- -.

One of the best parts of today was a conversation I had with a woman I met in the Cabrini Hospital Cafeteria. We shared many interests and spent half an hour in easy, warm conversation.

After a day in Melbourne, our arrival back on the island was like stepping into another world -- that huge expanse of bridge; all those blues and greens; and finally, a wonderful welcome home from Major, Del and Katie

PS

Whenever we go out -- leaving the dogs at home for more than 20 minutes or so -- we give them each a huge juicy bone. Major settles on the grass to crunch and gnaw his bone, while Del sits close by guarding hers between her paws. However, Del doesn't eat her bone until we return.

Water self-sufficiency on Phillip Island

The town water provided on Phillip Island contains at least 10 different chemicals because the catchment comprises dairy country where cow manure and the effluent from dairies drains into the reservoir.

For this reason, we've chosen to install a 25,000 L tank which collects rainwater from the house and shed roofs. With an annual rainfall of around 28 inches (700ml) we've never run out of water; in fact, we've never fallen below the half-way level. Because of this, I indulge myself with long showers and never skimp in my use of water. But we don't waste water either, nor do we use it in the garden. Our garden is planted with native trees and hardy shrubs that don't need watering.

We have a water filter attached to a tap in the kitchen to eliminate any of the 'nasties' that could come from the roof, and we usually boil the water as well. The idea of being self-sufficient in water appeals to me.

On the other hand, I enjoy the artesian water we drink and shower in while living in Mitchell. I believe the mineral content is very beneficial, health-wise.

PS

Apologies about The Dish photo. I got the numbers mixed and don't know how to delete.

A welcome home for Doug, me and the mutton birds

For 15 years I've been meeting a group of around six to eight women friends every Saturday morning at Harry's on the Esplanade, in Cowes, on Phillip Island.

For two hours we drink coffee, share confidences and laugh in a way that's unique amongst a group of women friends. It's not that we don't like men (most of us love men!), it's just that talk is different when it's a women's only group.

Today's welcome home was heart warming: hugs from my five friends, our waitress Jip and the owner of Harry's, Kirsty. Harry's is an upmarket restaurant with breathtaking views across the bay, including the Cowes jetty and tree-lined Esplanade.

Meanwhile, Doug set off for the Jetty Cafe, in Cowes, on his treasured 1949 Ariel Square 4 motor cycle. Doug's been meeting his motor cycle friends every Saturday morning for 15 years too.

Over a late lunch, Doug and I shared all the local gossip. A huge chunk of prime farmland on the outskirts of Cowes is being carved up into a housing estate. Blocks are selling from $124,500. Development on the island is astounding with a huge Woolworths complex opened just a few weeks ago. We now have Coles and Woolworths. Where will it all end?

From our part of the island -- on the north-west corner -- all is relatively unchanged since we left in April. There is not the population pressure that exists in and around Cowes. Peace, the blue glitter of the ocean and the golden hush of sundown signal the time for the mutton birds to return to the rookery and their mates sitting on eggs deep in sandy burrows.

What a welcome they receive! My mind backtracks to the welcome I received this morning from my friends -- and I feel warm inside. Birds have feelings too, and I've no doubt they feel pleasure and excitement on the return of their mate.

When it's all boiled down, we're not all that different to animals and birds!

Homesick for the outback: Phillip Island

We've being back on the island for four days: everything is unpacked, washed and organised for the summer. So what's next?

After all the hype of packing up our Mitchell home, travelling south to Phillip Island, and setting up our island home, I feel a strange sense of lethargy settling upon me. Why? I ask myself.

My guitar is out on the back verandah where we get morning sun, and I've played, having not touched it for seven months. I'm surprised I can still remember the notes and tunes, even though a bit rusty. Del and Major have their beds on the verandah and seem to enjoy hearing me play music. While in Mitchell our weekly marimba lesson and daily practice kept my musical needs fully satisfied. So now it's my guitar.

Regarding my writing, I've e-mailed a publisher regarding my latest children's story The Warning; and my adult memoir Robin's Double Life. It's a waiting game getting published, and it's also a case of being persistent and never giving up!

My daily blog keeps me focused on the here and now and lets me share with you, my loyal readers, life as I see it.

The sea view from our living room is blue and sunny today, yet I feel a strange tug of homesickness for outback Queensland with its space, warmth and community. On the other hand, we've heard that the power's been off for two nights running in Mitchell and there's been over 6 inches of rain in the last 3 days.

Today's maximum temperature on the island is 20°C and for me that feels cold after Mitchell's 35°C. Hopefully I'll acclimatise soon and settle back into life on this beautiful island, so rich in wildlife.