In the pink

Here's the dish after I put the beetroot jam in the compost.  I just happened to note how it toned with the new microcloth, and I felt much perkier.  I have failed in the cooking department - no-one liked my rhubarb chutney or cumquats.  Georgia said the pastry on the bought (admittedly from the baker at the pub) mincepies was better than my 'Good Shortcrust' made at dawn from a recipe of Mrs Goggins of  Bothwell.  But George preferred my filling.  Which was hurtful given it came straight from the Robertson jar.

I have been struggling to read this book over Christmas:

I thought it would be the perfect Christmas read but found the humour too heavy handed.  I did feel a bond with the main protagonist who jauntily creates dishes like Garlic and Fernet Branca Ice-cream, Otter with Lobster Sauce, Rabbit in Cep Custard, and Lychees on Toast.

So, back to my colour observations.  Perfectly pitched polish from the Floosie.

Gold Bunny rose, microfibre cloth and compost bucket.

I have at last managed to have poppies and cornflowers flowering at the same time.

Two of you may recognise this small recycling project completed before Christmas.  The bambi teatowel from Curly Tree (formerly River Bank) in Wentworth was a present from Sandrine a cuppla years ago.  Just visible is the backing:  a dotty piece of material from then Southern Belle (now Fleurieu Floosie) which became a sarong and then a table cloth for the outside table at River Bank.

They've come together to make a cushion cover much admired by Gertrude Jekyll Eccle Leopard.
I think my New Year Resolution is to stop trying to be a cook and stick to gardening and household projects.

and so that was Christmas

I made mince pies as dawn was breaking on Christmas Eve, then spent the rest of the morning looking for beetroot.  Madam Cyn had emptied out her freezer to fit in 2 crayfish so I was the beneficiary of frozen strawberries and Jill PD had innumerable meaty treats never previously experienced.  She thought it was Christmas.  It occurred to me that this was my chance to make beetroot and strawberry jam. You may recall that I used my phone to photo the recipe in a magazine I was reading some time ago while waiting in a doctor's surgery with Mum.  So yes, I did eventually track down the last beetroots of Spring Bay at a garden stall in Orford.
Nephew Steve and his new wife, Karen, from Singapore visited in the afternoon having a hankering for fishnchips from The Fish Van.

They were a little alarmed as the fire truck, siren blazing, crawled the streets of Triabunna as though hoping for a fire.  We, the cognoscenti, knew it was the annual Christmas Eve lolly drop.

I left the cooking of the jam until Christmas Day.  It is not easy following a recipe on your phone.  A mobile covered in beetroot splatter is a disturbing sight. And then I cut my finger...

It was just Steve and me for Christmas Dinner. The pink eye potatoes were from our garden, the zuch from Omniscient Henry's garden, the ham from the local butcher.  The beetroot jam was not a success.  I consider onions, beetroot and rosemary to be sweet and this is enhanced by roasting them first, which my phone told me to do.  The addition of strawberries, vinegar, cinnamon quill and cloves resulted in a taste of beetroot cooked in perfume.  Total waste of beetroot.
George, Matt and the boys arrived in the late afternoon.  They had lunched at Nephew Kyrle's place in Swansea which is where Nephew Steve and Karen and Steve's daughters and partners were staying.  This has been a wonderful family development.  George and Matt have lived in Singapore for some time.  Steve went frequently to Singapore for his work.  Eventually he decided to board there, and recently married his landlady - Karen!  Karen and Steve invited George and Matt to the wedding.  Despite the Singapore connection, Georgia and her cousin Steve had not met for 24 years, and they all discovered they got on famously.  Karen and Matt love to cook, Kyrle provides the seafood.  They had a feast.
Fortunately I had predicted this so we had prepared a light repast - Steve's sausage rolls, cheeses, mince pies, etc.  No-one interested in my beetroot jam.  Possibly because I told them I'd cut my finger and Georgia said 'I wondered what all the blood was in the bathroom.'  I hadn't realised I'd left a trail.  Maggie Beer has nothing to fear from me.  We retired quite early.  It is so handy having the caravan park next door, and a connecting gate.

To my surprise and delight, there was no hurry to leave the next day.  We went over to the Village to see Steve's current art exhibition, feeding the chickens with weeds on the way.  We had the place to ourselves.  Georgia and I loved looking at the new and old clothes, Matt pored over the records, Kit found a book he really wanted, Rem looked for wildlife. Two enduring images are Jill PD resting her paw on Oscar's foot, and Kit happily reading his book.  Of course there was cricket watching in the studio for those who wanted it.  Bocce in the afternoon.  And everyone getting their own food all day.  I took one photo.

Gorgeous, gorgeous people.

Every day is Christmas

It has been a wonderful week since last I blogged.  Monday 17th saw gym, lunch with Madame Cyn in Hobart, then a tap dancing concert in Swansea.  This was great fun.  Not all the kids knew the steps and the boy had to exit stage right to go to the loo.  One girl was born to dance and did so with vigour, though not necessarily the same steps as everyone else.  But their camaraderie shone through.  There was also a carb loading supper afterwards.

Also time for some early morning garden photos.

Tuesday was zumba then brunch with the Zumbettes.  Some mid morning bubbly which gee-ed up the day.  The last Orford Odeon was a gala event, though we all wish it would continue but David and Gavan say enough is enough.  Her Majesty and I dressed up and wore wigs, which was very liberating.  We had great fun but couldn't dance because we were packed in like sardines.

Wednesday was the last gym for the year.  But, startlingly, Bollywood Dancing has started at The Village fortnightly on a Wednesday evening so I tried it out.  Zumbette Robyn, who is wearing the crocheted poncho above, her husband and sister turned up as did Zumbette Dot, plus a cuppla other locals.  We were certainly put through our paces.  I think it will be possible if we don't panic.

Thursday is usually my day of rest but I had brekkie program at the school in the morning.  It was the students' last day and they were to spend it at the beach, which would have been a joyous occasion if not for the rain.   In the evening I went for drinks at the Magistrate's Cottage.  I've always wanted to see inside and fortunately for me, Mel's Dad is going to live there.  I think he's pretty happy about it too.

Finally Friday came - endless sushi at Peter and Fiona's in Little Swanport.  This is so generous of them.  All day, Fiona churns out sushi,  sausage rolls made with ethically farmed pork from Long Name Farm, and chocolates while we lounge around various rooms in their house (which used to be a guest house) like ancient Romans.  Then back to Tribes for the Christmas Parade.  This marks the true beginning of Christmas for me and I had decorated the tree near our front door in readiness.

This photo says it all.  Something got lost in translation.  The parade was small and not perfectly formed.  I did enjoy myself, even if they failed to go past our house.  I say nothing of the wisdom of having people with bagpipes leading the Parade.

Personally I don't think a skeleton in a life-jacket helps the message.

In what I considered a stroke of luck, our oven conked out.  Nephew and electrician Kyrle came to Steve's rescue and, in a flourish which I think all tradies could emulate, whipped out fresh oysters after solving the problem.  Also demonstrating the total lack of need for a working oven.

I was so overwhelmed, I postponed eating my mince pie.

Then another lovely thing on Saturday - Baroque Christmas at the Spring Bay Mill.

before

during

after

Truly, truly lovely.

waiting for Sherlock

Got 10 minutes before the show starts so thought I'd introduce you to my new blog picture.  It's somewhat larger than I would like but I can't work out how to change it, and it does capture the atmosphere today.  I was very excited when I went trotting off to the market and realised there were three yachts sailing at the end of our street.

Here's Steve happy at the market.  I was very happy this afty when I got a call to say I had won 2nd prize in the raffle!!  All in all a good day.

On the Ropes

seems to have vanished from SBS tonight so I thought I'd do a little blogging.

Her Majesty passing through the snowcave to tai chi last Friday

Reception area of Community Health which hosts our tai chi

hail storm, possibly Saturday

there are many big projects to do in the garden but I've also done some tidivating

I've left the artichokes to flower this year

more tidivating with succulents

fig tree, pomegranate and lemon tree cleared of grass

snapdragons planted for Steve's birthday

currently I'm getting up so early I see the garden with the sun shining from the east

first raspberry

Cat and Fiddle arcade in Hobart

Petra, stalwart of the School Association, at last night's Awards Ceremony

some of  my favourite people

The Year 10s who I first met as Year 8s.  Most of them seem to have come a long way in 3 years.

Today's technology allows them to be haunted by a current photo and one from their first year at the school as they arrive on stage to pick up their Leavers' Packages.  They'll have to go to Hobart if they want to continue their schooling.

a little bit more Adelaide (well environs actually)

I forgot to include these post-yoga photos of the Floosie and me, taken by her Steve on our last ommmmming for the trip.  We both think we look quite ok. As does that gaura.  They grow almost wild in South Australia and mine struggles to stay alive and is very hesitant to flower.

We had done a little shopping in Port Eliot and I indulged in a new bag.  Mum has paid me for it and it will be my Christmas present.  So I mustn't use it till then.

And if you want to be totally overwhelmed, look at the Gardenista webpage .

The Next Adventure

The garden, of course.  I worked on Mum's garden while in Adelaide but only to try to control it so that it looked good from the windows.  Despite having those beautiful wooden ramps, Mum does not venture into the garden these days.  I found some lovely gardening books at the Payneham Library.

The others were lovely to look at, and I did enjoy reading Gertrude Jekyll's garden philosophy (you now know where Gertrude Eccle Jekyll-Leopard got her name), but Gardenista is an absolute gem.

But back to real life.

I love the look of the nigella and it hides the overgrown grasses.  But I know they're there.

A pretty mead but in much need of attention.  Cornflowers and cosmos coming on in pots.

This is a new bit which I put in hastily before I left because I want a continous theme along this fencing.  It certainly worked.  The red poppies are supposed to be blousily petalled pink.  The nigella and parsley are uninvited but welcome.

The potted fig is accompanied by self-sown nigella and sea holly.  Cumquat almost discernable to the right through grasses.  All a bit wan.

This bit of the garden manages itself very well.

Another wan bit.  The elderberry plant and more nigella.

Steve's Golden Delicious.

My Cox's Orange Pippin.

Steve's current seat in the orchard.

Self-sown lily thing.  Not my favourite sort of plant.

Dietes flowering after soldiering on for four years!

And what makes it so worthwhile.  The allure of the afternoon sun through petals.