October 12, 2025

Windy dog walks

October in Tasmania is renowned for windy weather but those strong winds have excelled themselves this year. Never has the expression ‘blowing a gale’ been more relevant, and when the wind is accompanied by heavy rain it’s made the morning dog walk less than enjoyable. Not that Badger could give a hoot. Like most dogs he’s happy to go for a walk whatever the weather, although there was one particularly windy morning this week when he did seem quite happy that I cut it short after he’d done the necessary, and I’d nearly been blown off my feet. Literally. Unsurprisingly that day a large tree fell down over the road that took several hours to clear, and there were statewide power outages.


This morning walk today therefore was a pleasure. The wind had dropped completely, and the rain had eased – at least temporarily. All we need now is for the temperature to rise a bit. Early morning walks in daylight are welcome, but the need for a woollen jacket, gloves and a scarf in the middle of October are unusual.



Soon enough we’ll be commenting on the heat – maybe. The weather jury is still out on the chances of a hot summer, a wet summer, or a steamy tropical summer that includes more than a bit of both. At least our water tanks are full after all the rain. Something to be grateful for.

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Magni
By Anne Layton-Bennett June 14, 2026
It’s taken far too many months for this marvellous model to grace the dedicated desk space in my office. When Fiona comes to visit next she will be very surprised, and hopefully gratified, that her amazing creative talent is finally on display. We’ve known each other for a very long time, and during the insanely busy time when I was helping to run the flower farm, working part-time in a school library, doing a spot of journalism on the side, and fighting the proposed pulp mill that is the subject of the manuscript I’m hoping to get published, Fiona cleaned my house each week. There’s only so much a person can do after all, and it has to be said cleaning our house during those manic years was fairly low down on the list of my priorities. But Fiona is a woman of many talents and she certainly possesses one that I so don’t have: sewing and dressmaking. So over the years she’s also made a few garments based on the pattern of a favourite garment that I was particularly fond of, and she’s also done some clothing alterations for both of us. My skills with needles and thread are limited to sewing on buttons, and taking up hems on John’s too-long pairs of jeans. Anything else is beyond me. But this fabulous model is the pièce de résistance – along with the beautiful crocheted knee warmer she gave me last year. This was when winter was approaching and so determined was I to finish writing the book, I decided to get out of bed at the insane hour of 5am and get in a solid hour’s writing in before dog walking and the demands of the day took over. Fiona was also one of many Tasmanians who needed to be circumspect about her opinion of the pulp mill. It was a project that polarised people, including families and friendships. She was one of several who passed on snippets of useful information, but on the basis of anonymity so it couldn’t be sheeted home to her.  Needless to say Fiona will be one of those whose contribution will be acknowledged – when this book is finally accepted by a publisher.
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