bees love borage

There is no logic to the title.  When I was strolling around the garden some time today I noted how the borage was the busiest plant bee-wise.  And I had a busy week last week, hell-bent on pleasure, apart from a visit to the optometrist which was all good.  Though I've got to try to wear my sunglasses.

the orchard

there's self-sown cornflower seedlings in those pots

love this colour palette

garden bed destined for de-construction

irises and Solomon's seal 

I did the usual gym, zumba, yoga things and on Wednesday we had a big event.

I hadn't seen this film before but knew what it was about because when we first went to Griffith the  calendar of the strategically nude local men was the hot news.

It was a very well organised event and raised over $4500 for the Cancer Council. I brought my afternoon tea box home because I was a bit concerned about possible oat ingredients.  Steve and I had a very pleasant snack in our garden.

Some time during the week I made room in the raised garden beds for Steve to plant tomatoes.  By tradition, in Tasmania tomatoes should not be planted until after Hobart Show Day, which was Thursday.

On Friday, Nicki from the school and I picked broad beans, rhubarb and snow peas for the Gatehouse Stall.  We sold the beans and rhubarb immediately to some very impressed tourists.  I had to then replenish the stall because the Gatehouse architect was expected to visit on Saturday and had asked that there be produce available.  I trotted over early on Saturday morning because I was going to a workshop in Hobart but got waylaid by a lady and her granddaughter who wanted to know how much they should pay for the tomato plants and how to cook artichokes.

I put some beautiful smelling boronia in the building for the architect's benefit then hot footed it into town for the workshop on re-framing language for persuasive narratives.  On Sunday we had another Pop Up Book Stall, this time raising $1700 for the Orford School to buy cricket equipment.  It's exciting being with people and chatting about books.  Another lovely week.

Aunty Eirwen

I got the news today that my Aunty Eirwen had died in Wales.  Apart from my Mum, Eirwen was the last of my Dad's generation of Coxes.  She was married to Dad's brother Ron but has been widowed for many years.
As my Mum gets older, my rels have got younger as Mum recounts stories from her  younger days.  One story is of a young Mum and Dad and Ron and Eirwen frolicking on Caerfai beach.  Eirwen always liked to dress well and had on a red sundress which got sea splashed. Walking home, one of the local chaps invited them into his cottage and encouraged Eirwen to take off her dress and dry it in front of the fire.  She didn't.

the dazzling Aunty Eirwen in 1964/5, lady on the far left of photo

One of the things I loved about returning to St Davids was the chance to bump into relatives in the street and I have met Eirwen going to and from the supermarket.  She was one of those people who liked to shop everyday.  She was very social and loved to go out for a drink.  On one occasion in 2010, Eirwen and her granddaughter went clubbing while Mum and I slept soundly.  They got in at 2 am and delighted in telling us the next day that Dai the Tie had asked each of them to dance.

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Eirwen in the fore, Aunt Iris beside her.

Mum took the photo in 2010 at Tenby

A really special time for me was when Georgia, Mum, the Aunts and I met for pint at the Farmer's Arms in St Davids.  We farflung people meshed seamlessly.

Georgia in her Welsh cap

Mum and Eirwen catching up

George and Iris

Lovely memories.  And I will always see Aunty Eirwen  prancing down the road to Caerfai in her red dress.

Beschorneria yuccoides

is the real name of the plant formerly considered a Gymea Lily.  The Green Bean has been on its case.  It's very tricky to spell.

another cuppla shots of the sculpture garden

this banksia rose seemed to suddenly come to life in a garden on one of my shortcuts

some Gatehouse shots.

We've had a bit of theft recently, including the bucket and silverbeet.

The weather has been very dry and we've lost some of the plants from the Gatehouse garden.  It's raining today and, as I was driving back from Zumba, I noticed my council mates are replacing the dead plants.  The plants that have survived are thriving.

a tree fern from another of my shortcuts

3 perfect days

We have had 3 days of still, warm and sunny weather.  I have been able to open all the windows in the house and keep them open all night.  Truly heavenly.  My morning walks to and from the Gatehouse have been meditative.  This morning it was still 20 degrees.

looking across Wilma's garden to ours

Our choice of paths to the Gatehouse is currently restricted by our fear of the plovers who, quite rightly, swoop to protect their young and scare the daylights out of the Pharaoh Dog and me.

We're keeping an eye on the not Gymea Lily awaiting some seed pods.

At home, the irises are beginning to tantalise.  Photos from Lady Jayne's garden have energised me to create a new space.

A sculpture garden.  It is still rather raw and I haven't really captured it well in these photos.  The re-vamp required stacking the pavers around the water tank and building a concentric low wall.  Formerly it was a very square and forlorn space.  It was lively with succulents when we bought the house and it has taken me 3 years to realise that the building of the studio totally destroyed it as the garden it was because the light is no longer available.  Now I'm hoping that the glass sculptures will bring some energy to it.  I have a zillion cyclamen emerging from seeds so maybe it will become a cyclamen garden.

a glimpse of ankle

During the week I was thrilled to see that I had comely ankles again.   I used to be quietly proud of my slim ankles.  Admittedly they benefited from proximity to my calves, together comprising what The Beagle referred to as my coke bottle legs.  Age and medication have thickened my ankles but for some reason they re-emerged slender briefly this week.

Today was the Seafarers' Memorial Service and Blessing of the Fleet.  It is a beautiful warm day and I wore a hat for the first time in Tasmania.  Hats were out in force and it was amusing to gradually realise we were surrounded by people we knew but didn't recognise because of their hats and sunglasses.  The Queen herself was represented by

our Governor, Kate Warner.

Sadly we again were not blessed by god-like youths stripping off to retrieve the gold crucifix from the deep.
After the service it was back to the market this month graced by notables such as The Glorious Bean and Mr Bean, the lovely Eileen Brooker and Precious

the Alpaca.

Since Thursday

Thought I'd better fess up re the Cornish Pasties.

They had wandered a little too close to the top of the oven.  But still good to grab for breakfast on Friday after yoga, and eat in the car.  We were on our way to take Jill PD to Kingston Beach and then to friends of Steve for lunch.  We were running a little late so decided to take Jill to the Signal Station at Mt Nelson for a bit of a romp.

Last time I was here was with Jill Mrs History, some time ago.

Sadly there was no blazing fire

and a muted view.

No need to send out any signals,though I was getting a bit hungry.  Then, to my astonishment, Steve announced that we were not going to the friends' place but eating at the Signal Station Restaurant.  Jill was a little miffed at having to return to the car

but we had a very pleasant lunch with people I had not previously met.  Afterwards we did go to Kingston Beach and ran with the hounds to keep warm.

I closed the Gatehouse by moonlight.  Saturday saw me out with the Friends of Triabunna Reserves, not playing footy, but pulling up Spanish Heath and broom.  I collapsed for the rest of the day.

Today I remembered to take a photo of the pear tree in the garden

and the evolving lily at the school

where I went to pick veggies for the Gatehouse stall.  And the rest of the day has been devoted to my garden.

karma

We had 2 beautiful Spring days - Monday and Tuesday.  On Tuesday night Bart Stenhouse came more or less out of the blue to play at The Village.  An amazing event, especially surrounded by the Botaniko art works.  Afterwards I strolled to do a late night lock up of the Gatehouse, and then home to finish off a bottle of bubbly, my reward for helping to wash up after the concert.
So inspired was I that I cooked Cornish pasties on Wednesday, a misty dreamy sort of a day.  Heavier rain today, which we need badly, but I decided to try Stapleton Beach for seaweed for my reluctant asparagus.  I have only seen this beach covered in big, beautiful boulders and seaweed.  I'd been told that it had returned to being a sandy bay

and it was.  And hardly a skerrick of seaweed in sight.  By now the rain had set in

so the Pharaoh Dog and I retraced our steps.