Bongo

Before you continue reading, I need to warn you that this posting has a TMI (too much information) and PG-13 advisory – just a consequence of being biologists. In the interest of good taste, I won’t share too many details, and I will let you make your own jokes.

My boss (Bec) asked if I could come down to Taronga Zoo for a repro procedure on a bongo because it would a good training experience for me. Since Ben has never seen the zoo or met Bec, I asked if there was a chance he could come along. I hadn’t really thought through the implications of this request, but essentially what I did was invite Ben to come watch his beloved wife help electro-ejaculate a bongo (yes, that is pretty much what it sounds like). Talk about an awkward situation for a husband!

So the stimulant didn’t do a very good job of getting the target organ going, but it did get the bongo’s legs going at one point. Unfortunately, I was the person manning “his station,” which meant I was right in there between his front and back legs – not a good place to be when they start swingin’. I managed to do this roll between his 2 back legs (don’t ask for details – it all happened too fast – I remember I ducked my head under his top thigh and rolled out). Not sure what hit what, but my only injuries were a bruised, swollen knee and a bruise on my thigh. Could lead to some interesting answers when people ask what happened to my knee!

And I think that’s enough said about that.

Movin’ on up

When we first moved to Oz, we felt a bit of a financial pinch. Well – maybe it felt more like a grab, but either way, it drove us to start our new life here for as cheap as possible. For some things, that was fine, but we quickly realized that for pots and cutlery, that just doesn’t work. The pots we picked out looked fine enough at the beginning, but the fact that they came from a discount store and the whole box weighed about as much as a pillow should have been a sign. After 10 months of use, our pots and “aluminum-ware” might be about the worst I’ve seen, which might not mean much for some people, but for 2 people who have spent a lot of time living in Forest Service bunk-houses and field stations and other under-funded communal-living situations – that’s saying a LOT.

So now that the costs of moving are fading into the distance and Kerry has been gainfully employed for 5 months (and the fact that Target just had a huge 50% off sale), we decided it was time to upgrade. We are now the proud owners of real pots and pans (that actually feel heavy when you lift them and that don’t start loosing their non-stick coating the first time you use them),

and real cutlery (which isn’t quite silver, but is better than aluminum and much less bend-able).

So watch out all you fancy-pant billionaires – the Fansons are moving up in the world!!

The Exchange

So Tamara recently invited me to a dinner & theatre event, and keen for an outing, I said sure. Let me just say this – dinner theatre is quite different in Ballimore, NSW than it is in, say, Chicago. So there were 5 of us who went, and we drove along for about 30min until we rocked up at this little pub, in the middle of nowhere. But there was a big sign out front saying “The Exchange – funniest play to come to the Outback.” So we sidled up to the bar to get some beer or wine (some of the girls were disappointed that they had run out of vodka, but where did they think they were – a pub??) and then were ushered to the back room, which was kind of a big covered porch with 5 plastic tables and some folding chairs, for dinner. Tiny little outback pub – probably serving traditional meat and potatoes, right?? No – try spring rolls, fried rice, butter chicken, and curry. And then 1 dish of beef stroganoff, which was more like a few pieces of beef in a big tub of gravy made from a powder mix.

The play, quite appropriately, took place in a small outback pub. It was a 3-man production – there was the bar-tender and then 2 older blokes who spent their days hanging out at the pub. It was quite amusing, and I’m getting to know the lingo and the sense of humour well enough that I could get most of the jokes (my own personal accomplishment of the evening). But I’d say about 50% of the dialog was the 2 older guys arguing about “Whose shout is it?” (i.e. who is buying this round). And then periodically, amid the jokes and the drinking, they would lapse into these philosophical conversations involving a dialog between the 2 older guys and a simultaneous monolog from the bar-tender, and wax on about the meaning of life or Aboriginals or relationships. All-in-all, quite an entertaining evening, and a good taste of rural Australia.

New Flatmate

I have a new flatmate. I may have lost Underwear Boy as a source of entertainment, but now I have Joey. Whoops – make that joey. And actually, his name is Emmitt. Yes – I am now living with an eastern grey kangaroo joey!!

So some fools were out shooting kangaroos, and managed to shoot a female who had a joey in her pouch. So they decided to try to raise the joey, but when it was clear he wasn’t doing too well, they dropped it off at the zoo (the vets also function as a wildlife rehab centre). So now Kristie (who I rent a room from) is hand-rearing the joey, which thereby makes him my new housemate! Right now, he’s about the size of a cantelope (or rock melon, as they’re called here) when he’s all curled up. He’s about ½ hindlegs and ½ everything else. He lives in a box of blankets, as he’d still be spending most of his time in his mum’s pouch at this stage.

But in the last couple days, he’s started sticking his head up more and looking around – very cute. And when Kristie transfers him to a clean pouch, if she doesn’t have the next pouch ready fast enough then little Emmitt will try to flip himself into her sweater (they kind of do this somersault into mom’s pouch).


Ben is insanely jealous, but at least he should still feel loved, because I’m choosing him and Ani over a joey and a nice heater (at least for the next 2 weeks).

We have tickets!

It's official - we're headed across the pond to come harass y'all!! So I've created a calendar, which might help with keeping our schedule straight. You can find it on the right-hand side (below our contact info) or you can click here. I think you can also add things to our calendar, so if you know of events while we're in the US (or if you're planning a trip over here!!), go ahead and stick things on there.

Basic itinerary is that we arrive at O'hare 23 Aug, spend a few days in Lafayette for Kerry to wrap up her thesis, spend a while in St. Louis, then spend a while in Chicago/Milwaukee. We fly out 14 Sept.

If anyone's interested, it cost US$934/person to get us back and forth across the pond. In other words, ticket prices are low right now, and it's a great time to plan a trip to come visit us!!

Happy Feet

With winter approaching, we decided to get us some uggs!!

So here's a bit of historical trivia for you, which I found interesting. For ages, the terms Ugg/Ug/Ugh/Uggies have been used as general terms to refer to warm, cozy sheepskin footwear. However, a few years ago the American Deckers Outdoor Corporation trademarked the name "Ugg" (and all derivatives thereof) and started mass producing "UGG Australia" brand boots, which are made in China. The company started going after the numerous small businesses in Australia that made uggs and threatening them with fines and lawsuits. This is a little like someone trademarking the word "chopsticks" and then suing anyone in the world that tries to sell a product called "chopsticks". So the little Aussie manufacturers banded together and fought back, and are now allowed to sell "uggs" again.

These are actually Ben's uggs

So Ben and I bought our uggs (since we can call them that) from a place in Dubbo that makes all their products on-site with all-Aussie sheepskins. There are doors from the shop to the factory, so you can look through and see people working - it seems like a very happy atmosphere. They also employ a number of people with intellectual disabilities, which is great. And they're just so friendly and willing to make whatever you want - I think this was probably one of the happiest shopping experiences I've had! And we're not shoppers, at all.

Tamara also gave me some great socks from Tassie, so my feet are extra happy!!! (...although 2 pairs of wool socks plus uggs was just for the photo - I'm not that pathetic.)

Underwear boy

Well - it's the end of an era. Peter (aka Underwear Boy, due to his chronic, unabashed lack of clothing other than boxers... and sometimes just briefs) is moving. For those of you who haven't heard about U-Boy, he's renting a room from Tamara, and therefore my housemate when I house-sit for Tamara. He's a criminal lawyer, and his company had relocated him to Dubbo to get more familiar with aboriginal crime. Now they're sending him to Walgett, which is kind of in the middle of nowhere, and if you say the name with the right drawl, I think it captures the essence of the place. From the sounds of it, Dubbo was just breaking him in - Walgett is where he'll get into serious stuff.

But anyway, he's known about this move for ~2 months. This morning, he slept in until 11, got up and made a huge breakfast, chatted on the phone, had a few cigarettes. Then apparently while he was in the shower, he had an epiphany that he's moving in 2 days, because he suddenly runs out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, leaving wet footprints all over, picking up clothes with one hand and moving dishes around with the other - and starts freaking out about all the stuff he needs to get done. Which led to the following conversation:

Peter: This sucks – why does this stuff always happen to me?
Kerry: Other people move, too.
Peter: I’m like a victim.
Kerry: Of what? Having a job?
Peter: Yeah. Why can’t I just be on an island somewhere, drinking and smoking, with lots of pretty girls that don’t want to marry me.

Yup - that's Peter.

Lazy river, lazy day

Ben and I spent the rest of the weekend takin' it easy. We headed out to "Butlers Falls" just south of Dubbo, but we failed to spot anything that remotely resembled a waterfall. In fact, it was so still that it was perfect for skipping stones. The name must refer to something else.

Ani enjoyed soaking up the sun and playing in the water and pouncing on things in the grass (luckily not snakes). And Ben and I proved to be entertainment for some of the local kids. A few young boys walked by us, and we could hear them debating our accents for quite a while.

On the way home, we decided to stop by one of the local wineries. However, being the end of the day on Sunday, they didn't have much open for tasting. We tried two reds, but since it was such a warm day, we were really in the mood for a white. Unfortunately, they only had 1 bottle of anything white, and it had been opened to pour one glass of wine - the managers had left for the weekend with they keys to the wine shed. So they offered us a taste, and then I (in my oh-so-classy-wine-snob way) asked if we could buy the rest of the bottle at a discounted price. Ben insists she hesitated, but I swear she was more like "whatever - it's the end of the weekend, nobody else will be drinking it." And it's Dubbo - anything goes.

So we took our mostly full bottle of wine and walked through the vineyards and down to the river (again) and soaked up a bit more of the beautiful day.

My birthday

Leaves changing colours, temps getting colder, shorter days... must be my birthday! As I mentioned on Ben's birthday, the flip-flopped birthday eco-cues are one of the weirdest things about living in the other hemisphere. I had grown quite accustomed to lilacs, lilies-of-the-valley, and bleeding hearts around my birthday. Even more than cold Christmases or autumnal Halloweens, I miss my spring-ish birthday. (...but yes, we are still wearing shorts.)

But despite my lack of spring flowers, I had a wonderful birthday weekend, primarily because Ben was here, but also because it really felt birthday-ish. The vets had a cake for me on Friday, Tamara gave me wonderful socks from Tasmania, Maria sent a bottle of wine up with Ben, Kristie sent me a text message, I had a pile of cards from home, Ben decorated my room with balloons and crepe paper and had a confetti gun and everything - y'all are great!!!

On Saturday, we went to see Spamalot, which was a lot of fun, and it was the New South Wales premier, no less. We actually saw Spamalot in Chicago for my birthday a few years ago. Between professional Chicago theater company or local Dubbo theatre group, you might think Chicago would win hands-down, but we both kind of liked Dubbo better! First of all, you're just much more up-close and personal, but also, the whole idea of Spamalot is that it's a spoof on people who took themselves too seriously, but in Chicago, they took themselves too seriously. Dubbo still had amazing costumes and scenes, but without so much attitude. But we came away from both performances with aching cheeks from laughing so hard, which is always a good way to spend your birthday.

Happy Mother's Day!!

Unlike Father's Day, Mother's Day is actually the same in Australia as it is in the US. So to the two best mothers in the world, we hope you have a double-whammy of a super Mother's Day!! We miss and love you both lots!

Underwear Boy and narcissism

One last ode to Underwear Boy.

As Australia is mourning the loss of the classic Aussie bloke (seriously – there’s a competition to find/celebrate those rugged outback men), Underwear Boy is doing all he can to contribute to the rise of the metrosexuals. I realize that I am not the most appearance-oriented person, but I am continually amazed at UB’s vanity. He spends more time in the bathroom in one day than I do in an entire week, and has twice the number of “beauty” products as Tamara and me combined. I honestly don’t think that is much of an exaggeration. He has multiple different hair gels, hairsprays, shampoos, and a hair straightener for his 1-inch hair! One day I counted 11 bottles of hair regrowth formula in the bathroom, which is kind of ironic since he once told Tamara “My goal is to become a fat, bald lawyer. All the best lawyers are fat and bald. But not until I’m 30.”

The blue circles are UB's, the red circles are Tamara's, and the green circle is mine.

He has 2 pictures up in his room – one of him and his fiancé, and one of him and his “stunning” chest. Interestingly, his investment in his appearance seems to stop at anything that would involve too much effort (i.e. exercise). He has a few dumbbells in his room, but I’ve only seen them used as a doorstop. And apparently, eating an insane amount of grease every day is also part of his health regimen. He has gotten visibly fatter in the 3 months I’ve known him – an observation facilitated by his chronic lack of clothing.

Once again, we shake our head and say “Oh Peter.” This entry is not meant to offend anyone who identifies with UB – just to share my enlightening experience of living with a metrosexual.

Fruit of the Day: Dragonfruit

This fruit comes from a cactus, and it looks just great, doesn't it!?!? But for as vibrant as the color is, the taste is actually quite subtle. It's mildly sweet, but there's no distinguishable flavour to it. But it's quite refreshing, and apparently low in calories!