Day Trip to Esk

Well, I had good intentions for posting every day this week.  But, clearly that hasn't happened.  Monday did not exactly go according to plan as Ginger woke very early from her nap when our neighbour called round to ask if we wanted to some fans they had to get rid of (incidentally, the street feels so empty now they have gone), and then we had double trips into Toowoomba. 

I went in to take our spare car key to the smash repairers (remember that little  - or maybe not so little - ding from the carport I told you about) so DH could drop off our car Tuesday morning on his way to work.  Only I drove right the way to the smash repairers and realised I had left the labelled envelope with the key in it sitting on the sideboard at home.  Having put it in a really obvious place where I wouldn't forget it - humph.  So back out we came picked up the key and a milk arrowroot biscuit for Ginger to keep her quiet in the car for the other hour of shuttling we had to do and went right back in again.

Anyway, so back to what I had intended to post about Monday....our saturday trip to Esk.  Having happily set off on our adventure with packed lunch etc, we discovered that the road between Toowoomba and Esk was closed for maintenance.  After much nashing of teeth we decided to go anyway but take an alternate route which was not labelled as unsealed but turned out to be mostly dirt track.  It was quite scenic and I managed quite a few pastoral scenes before DH's patience totally gave out at my asking him to stop so I could take a picture. 

'Tis cattle country after all.

A "bridge" which sat barely above water.

A sealed section of road .

Undulating countryside.

And when we got to Esk, well there wasn't that much to do.  We went to the markets and checked out all eight stalls!.  We wandered the main street, called into the antique shop (Ginger was in the ergo carrier for this part) and did a thorough check of the town op-shop.  I picked up some nice fabric and, you guessed it, books.  DH found a copy of The Ascent of Money for a couple of dollars and there were a whole pile of culled school library books for 10c a copy.  They were mostly books DH and I recalled from childhood - such classics as Olga da Polga , Ramona the Pest and my personal, and little known favourite, Catweazle.  I must mention as an aside here that I came to Catweazle rather late in life.  There was a tattered, dog-eared copy of it in the free reading box in my first year of high school.  I fell in love with it, when the next year the humanities building burnt down I was devasted at the thought that the school's only copy had been destroyed (I should add that despite the fact the fire occurred during the school day - a stray spark from a workman's welder got into the insulation - all were evacuated safely and only property was lost).

Then there was time for a wander and explore of the park before lunch.  Ginger was chief explorer and DH and I merely alternate shadowers - the other was having a cup of tea seeing as we only had the lid of the thermos flask for a cup (I sort of overlooked the packing of mugs).



Not only does a broad brimmed hat offer sun protection but relative anonymity.