the world of gretchen cello

Whenever I tell people that I live in Australia they start rattling off the top most poisonous things they’ve heard that live here. For example, ‘Isn’t Australia that place with the snakes that eat babies and killer sharks… and those frogs…’

To some extent… yes. But it’s mostly the spiders and ants and other bite-y creatures I try to avoid.

This morning a spider that reminded me of the hermit crabs we used to see in beach shops down the shore was lounging outside my front door. I have no idea which spiders are poisonous and which ones devour humans in their entirety. When I consulted a local about the spider he said, ‘I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s only half the size of the blue one I saw up in Cairns.’ Continue reading…

You heard everyone! The puppies are three today. They have been scampering around my feet since they were eight weeks old. Today’s entry is a photo blog in honor of Henry and Lily… family members / cult mascots…

Continue reading…

Now as we all know, my puppy departure was slightly traumatizing. I can’t wait to have my face licked in a window of only three days!! Continue reading…

I’ve decided I don’t want to write a sonnet every day. I’m going to keep writing them… but not every day. Continue reading…

I’m a vegetarian. If I had big enough balls I’d go vegan… maybe one day. I don’t lecture people on their personal choices because people don’t lecture me on mine. But for the record… now might be the perfect time for you to consider the benefits of a vegetarian lifestyle… (tee hee…)

It’s very important that I have some type of animal friends near at all times. Continue reading…

I realize that my mucho-easy-on-the eye webpage does a fabulous job at masking it, but I’ve gotta come clean – I don’t know jack about design (ha!). Continue reading…

I miss the puppies. Continue reading…

After twenty some odd hours in the sky, rescheduling my flight from LA because of delays, and nearly losing my luggage… I arrived in town 45 minutes early. I stepped outside and tried to bum a smoke off some chick, which is odd because I’m not a huge tobacco smoker… She tells me she can’t help me out when some incredibly gorgeous Middle Eastern man with an accent you want to swallow dressed like he’s straight off an Italian catwalk offers me a Clove. I’ve arrived. Oh and PS… I LOVE this city. Continue reading…