further to my previous

The Bean has kindly shared this photo of me eating my smoked salad salad.  I am a little alarmed because I'd been to the hairdresser only the day before and thought I looked like my current hairstyle guru,

Carol LeBar.  Carol possibly does not eat her lunch with such relish.

Back to the Asylum

Yesterday I commenced a leisurely drive to Port Arthur to see the latest exhibition of botanical art by the Botaniko artists at the invitation of the Great Bean.  I allowed myself 2 hours to drive there but arrived with 2 minutes to spare.  It is a lovely exhibition in, believe it or not, a lovely space.

This is the adjacent cafe where I enjoyed a latish smoked salmon salad lunch while the Bean chatted with other glitterati.  I couldn't easily take photos of the works because they were always surrounded by clusters of eager viewers.  The art is delicate and needs to be seen close up.  I was hoping to bring them to you via a webpage but this and this is the best I can do at present.  It does not seem like 2 years since Steve and I saw the first exhibition.

The Bean is now very knowledgable about Port Arthur flora and folks introducing me to Queen Victoria above.  She also introduced me to Lord ? but I didn't take a photo cos I knew I'd never remember his name.  The trees were thus named by the local policeman who Green Bean researched for last year's exhibition.

I may have said back in 2015 that Port Arthur is rather beautiful these days resembling an English village more than a harsh penal settlement.  I was beguiled by these licheny chaps:

Feeling buoyed after a very pleasant cuppla hours,  I decided to try a shortcut home from Copping - a mere 42 km to Orford.  I had in mind that this road would come out in Buckland.  But no, it became the dreaded Wielangta Road, a former Forestry road that is no longer maintained because Forestry Tasmania is in such dire straits.  Sadly I didn't discover it was the Wielangta until the bitumen ran out and became a dirt road which became a gravel road which became a moon-cratered road.  I only encountered 3 other vehicles - big, tough 4WD things hurtling towards me.  Except one which had broken the axle of its boat trailer and was phoning for help.  I slowed to make sure he was ok but wasn't game to stop.  I've heard stories of mother and son hillbillies with guns up there.
The good news is that the road turned out to be only 32 kms long, so I came to Orford much quicker that I had dared to hope.  And never has Orford looked so good.

a bit more dig

As I was strolling to the hairdresser's this morning, I realised I had my camera in my bag (whatever happened to phones, I hear you ask) and so could take a photo of the back of the archeological dig site.  This is where they'll commence digging next year, and later build a house.  I slip through the gap to the right and

there is the mulberry tree at the back of the pub.  Every year people think it would be a great idea to camp in the shade of this tree, and every year they move on a bit sharpish, their tent covered in red stains.
I would have loved to take a photo of Lynn the hairdresser waiting for me in the street and chatting to an old lady with a walking frame - but it seemed a little invasive!  Village life.

The reason I had my camera with me is that earlier I had dropped into The Village to look at the new exhibitor's work.  If you look carefully above you can see Steve and his slinky sales assistant.

The work consists of birds made from natural materials.

The second dig.

The Triabunna Barracks / Stables archeological dig is on again and it will be again for the next 2 years.  The owners held a presentation last Sunday for the archeologists and students to discuss their finds and for the owners to present their plans for the building.

The current plan is to have 3 bed and breakfast rooms with possibly a cafe, though the owners  do not want to run a cafe themselves.  As those of you who watch Kevin will guess, the right angle of the 2 buildings will be an enclosed stairwell.

That's this area.

This year the dig has also started at the back of the block where there is evidence of a large building long since disappeared, and where the owners intend to build a house for themselves.  It's all very exciting.

There are Christmas puddings hanging from the mulberry tree.  The owner has dug out the well and I can see I was right to fear that the dogs may fall in while in hot pursuit of rabbits.

With my heightened sensibility, I noticed that the house next door has some photographic features too.
One of the students explained to me that it is believed that the mulberry trees were grown to support the silk industry on Maria Island.  Here is the one at the back of the pub that is always accessible to the public and is currently laden with fruit.

You can see why it's a great  favourite with children.  And here's the wonderful book I bought in Swansea about a couple who lived on Maria Island for over 40 years.  It is beautifully written and illustrated.

Country Style

Guess who got a stack of Country Styles from the library yesterday?  Thank you Fleurieu Floozie for reminding me I need a magazine hit occasionally.  These coriander stalks have been hanging around the garden, hopefully doing their self-seeding bit, for quite some time.  The Country Style high, plus Steve's laundry / shed re-organisation, have brought it all together - briefly.

while my back was turned

Truly the gods / dogs use us for their sport.

I noticed this part of the front garden the other day.  It has developed itself into a pretty little picture while I've been working on the back garden and leaving plans for the front garden in limbo.  First it was to be a rainbow garden, ie a red bed, an orange bed, a yellow bed, etc.  The area above was to be the red section, hence the geraniums behind the japonica.  Then I decided on a blaze of marigolds with cornflowers / nigella / borage interspersed.  But then the lupins came, and I've always wanted lupins.  So I put it all on hold and it went its own sweet way.  I had decided to blog it as above and entitle it as above.
While I went out to take the photo, The Pharoah Dog helped herself to the pieces of flake I was cooking for my lunch.

Down on the corner, out in the street

It was market day yesterday and it occurred to me to give you some garden respite and show you the corner of Vicary and Melbourne Streets, Triabunna.  Looking up Melbourne Street (Northish) across Vicary Street in the above photo, you can see the school to the left, part of Mel's property on the right, and then the banners heralding The Village.

Looking easterly up Vicary Street with Mel's house on the corner.

From Mel's looking westerly down Vicary Street.

Jake thinks the pencils outside the school are hilarious - cutting edge technology for a STEM world.

Again from Mel's corner looking south down Melbourne Street, what I call the Paris End of Melbourne Street.

And looking diagonally from Mel's, the service station - maybe 40 metres to our place as you stroll southerly and seaward.

Mel is a dog and cat loving darling, Environmental Services Manager at the Council and great friend to Elizabeth and, now, ours.  Jill the Dog and I went sledding with Mel and Snowy.
The Village is where Steve is currently spending 4 days a week, other artists three days, at The Village Creative Art Studios.  The aim is to raise the profile of The Village, the classes held there, and the work of the artists.

rainy day blues

It's raining for the first time in a week or so.   Lovely soft rain.  Just what I'd hoped for.  Over the last couple of days I've been ridding the bed below of grass and grass runners in preparation for planting the final lot of Liz's fancy irises.  Irises fill me with a little angst cos 20 years ago I was the gardener for a Mrs MacMillan who loved irises and had collected them over her long lifetime.  I did my best but I really had no idea what to do with them.  Hopefully I know a little more now.  My thinking is that in 3 years time these irises will need digging up and thinning which will also give me the chance to do a serious de-grass again.

I'm also thinking that once the irises grow, they will prevent Steve's pot from rolling over.  I hope the goddess (and Liz) is listening.  Liz loved that pot and was aghast that we didn't keep it in the house. If I had a bigger house, I would.

Preparing the garden bed unearthed these oyster shells which, in the above arrangement but around a hollyhock, used to be Sarah's favourite thing in the garden.  Which, of course, has set me thinking...

The Pharoah Dog cunningly slipped the red ball into the picture.  It is an artist's trick, from what I've read, to have a splash of red in a picture.  To the right you can see what has become the Italian Lavender and hollyhock bed.  The lavenders are selfsown.  The hollyhock seeds came from Mintaro courtesy of Lady Jayne (who can now stop looking for them).  At Mintaro the hollyhocks were singles in a stunning pink

but the goddess has played with them, creating many shades of pink to red, and this double.

My friend Jools and I decided to go to Maria Island for the weekend.  Maria Island is a 40 minute ferry ride from Tribes.  It has no shops, electricity or other mod cons.  You go there to bushwalk, mountain bike or commune with nature.  Despite its proximity I had not spent more than 20 minutes there previously and, though it is beautiful to look at from Raspins Beach (where I zumba), it has always struck me as a tough, rugged place, and a little forboding.
We arrive around 12 noon.   The ferry disgorges the incredible amount of baggage that people have,  then there is much friendly banter as people compete for huge metal trolleys to carry their goods to the campsite.  This was the most exhausting part of the day and evocative of labouring convict gangs.  Once we had set up camp we returned the trolly to the ferry terminal, only slightly less heavy than before.  A spot of lunch, then down to the beach for a swim.  It was the ideal day -  sunny and warm.  After a lazy afternoon we decided to have dinner on the beach too.  We returned to camp to get the provisions and encountered others out for a feed.

Some continued to get the greatest exercise value from the day

while we just enjoyed the view and being there.

And eating, of course, with an elegant drop of white.

Here am I looking more sun-pashed than kissed.  It's a long time since I've been sunburnt.

The warm, moist air was balm and very reminiscent of St Davids cliffs and beaches.

Returning to our tents, we both noticed how lovely the light was on the hill and cottage

so we investigated.  It turned out to be the Visiting Magistrate's Cottage, long abandoned.  How lovely that, at some time, someone sought to establish a terraced garden here.

Having got this far we thought we'd keep going,

making many friends along the way.  This wombat has a baby in its pouch.

We went as far as The Painted Cliffs which are famous for their bright colours

though somewhat muted by moonlight.

That night we returned to the campsite and I was amused by the tents glowing like toadstools.  They don't have quite the same effect by morning.  I was a little embarrassed by my old tent but Jools convinced me it was Vintage, possibly a little shabby chic.

The trolley gives it the air of a bag lady but was perfect for carrying the tent bits and sleeping bag, and really I could have managed without the massive trolleys provided at the ferry.  Which was demonstrated the next day when we broke camp and carried all our belongings back to the wharf.
We were well ahead of schedule so sauntered off on The Reservoir Circuit.

We got a little distracted when Jools noticed the snake (thought to be a tiger snake) sunning itself.  The day before we had watched as it hunted in and out of the crevices in the stonework beside the creek.  My shadow reveals that by now I had taken to wearing a hat.

Back up to the rangers' cottages and other stone buildings we went.  As usual there was no escape from Art.

These fig trees caught my attention.  Sadly I could see no ripe figs and didn't fancy stepping into the longer grass.

We made it to the convict built reservoir.  After the forest tracks, it seemed like a lush lido.  The photo below does not capture it at all.  We would have lingered but a raucous multi-generational family got there just before us and shattered the green calm.

On the home run, just before getting lost, we saw this magnificent building and suspected Kevin McLeod must be in the vicinity.  It is The Engineers' Building and seems to evolve from the rock face behind it.

After a small panic and nearly going in totally the wrong direction (for which I have a talent) we did our best to keep up with a family of super jock mountain bikers who were returning to Darlington but refused to dink us.  We did well enough to find a familiar and correct path.

I spent some hours trying to think of the best word to describe Maria Island and the best I can come up with is 'benign'.  I recognise that this is partly because we had such perfect weather and because there had been recent rain so there was soft, green grass.  It is also to do with the abundance of animals we saw close-up and the beautifully maintained buildings.  Tomorrow I will go off to Zumba and the island will not seem so distant to me.