62 point turn

The Gang of Four has started to turn 62.  Corinne passed away last September but she passes back frequently in our thoughts and memories. Her birthday is 15 February and her daughters threw a party for her in Adelaide.  Of course we were all there.  Corinne's daughters are a triumph: pictures of poise and eloquence.  They chose their parents well.
Bron and I spent a lot of time with my Mum who delighted in taking us to the Walker's for a buffet lunch.  We mostly hovered around the seafood like circling gulls.  Heths could join us on Saturday so we took her to Mercato's - Mum was aghast she had never been there before.

It was a hot weekend.  On Saturday night we and half of Adelaide congregated at Glenelg. Fortunately for us Heths, as a local, knew secret places to park so we could stroll to the action.

 A beautiful evening to munch souvlaki and savour the sunset.

Our cunning path back to the car took us over the lock which I had no idea existed.

Great excitement cos the guy on the yacht looked like Richard Gere.

Meanwhile back in Tribes on the previous weekend, 

Steve struggles with a spot of macrame

while others make the most of the occasion.

This weekend I came home to find a beautiful surprise

and the long awaited windflowers in bloom

though, rather ungratefully, I would have preferred them to be white.  Jake and Sarah stayed the weekend with us.  Jake got the carving sandstone bug so we have now got our first birdbath.

We're not promising it will stay like this but it's a good start.  I'm thinking a carved foot bath or Roman bath would also be pleasant.

Third time lucky

I scarcely dare write this.  The first time I thought my life was sorted I got chicken pox the next week and took months to recover.  The second time, Steve had a stroke.  The third time?  I'll take the risk.  I keep exclaiming to Steve how good our life is.  Little things.  Butter in a butterdish and not in the fridge.  Daisies and clover in the lawn.  Food from our garden.  A butcher who farms his own pigs and makes bacon.  Neighbours who bring over fat juicy flathead.  The smell of the sea.  Foraging.  It starts to sound a bit coffee-table bookish, but it's true.  As I said in the previous post, I've been indulging in a beautiful book about the pilgrim trails through France to Santiago de Compostela in North West Spain.  Yesterday Steve, Sis and I took a walk on the track along southern Spring Bay.

Steve looking pilgrimish.

Maria Island in the distance.

The fish processing plant.

May it continue.

Shades of Wentworth

Saturday was forecast to be hot (33 degrees C) so we all bunkered down.  This was in stark contrast to the weekend before which was the liveliest weekend I've had for yonks.  Shanah and Archie were over from England via Adelaide, Miyeon was here from Korea, Matt was here from Singapore, Oki, Sarah, Oscar and Remi came up from Hobart and Liz came from Swansea.  Lovely.  So lovely, of course, that I immersed myself in pure pleasure and forgot to take any photos.  There are a couple of Archie and Shanah at the beach but I've got to work out how to get them off my work phone...  So here's some garden photos instead.

Finally I have lupins in the garden.  Chives and parsley in seed is also promising.

The Gold Bunny sent by Jill has produced one flower, nicely in time for our wedding anniversary.

Dahlias, not part of the original plan, are going gangbusters.

These guys are also not on the plan but very welcome.  They're hugging the container with the mint and horseradish.

I spent the hot, hot day (I think it actually got to 25 degrees) reading about the Compostela de Santiago pilgrimage with scallop shells very much on my mind, so this is an apt time to tell you that Wilma's father once owned our place and used scallop shells to condition the soil.  Consequently fragments of shells appear through the garden.

My friend Jean Green Bean has suggested I make a fertiliser from a bag of weeds steeped in water for a month.  Naturally I have obeyed and yesterday I unsteeped it.  The smell is amazingly awful so it should work well.  I was trying to capture the honeyeaters feeding on the succulent flowers in this photo but couldn't zoom in far enough.  You can however see my weed steeping device.  We haven't had a big need for the esky otherwise.
Another consequence of the heat which was Wentworth-like was the outbreak of country and western music in the caravan park, resonances of the CM Festival which itself used to resonate through Riverbank in October each year.

The caravan park has been pretty chokkers this long weekend - Hobart Regatta Day today. As the music indicated, they've been a pretty traditional crew.  The gap between vans was the conversation pit with a very cute and witchy pipe wood stove.  This was the scene a few weeks ago with a younger set in residence:

Modern camping

And here is the end of a magic and indulgent hot day.