jumping the gun

Sadly my 'Read the Alphabet Series in Order' Project has stalled.  I have been waiting for over a month now for G is for Gumshoe.  I have been forced to read H because it's due back next Tuesday, the first day the library will be open.  Gnash.  Wail.
I finally finished reading James Clavell's Whirlwind, over 1200 pages but a gripping read.  It's about the early days of  Ayatollah Khomeini after the exit of the Shah of Iran.  Talk about plots and subplots.  I was reading it at the time of the 'ABC Locked Cabinet bought at Auction' saga so my mind was reeling with conspiracy theories - as Lady Jayne is aware.  Never in my wildest dreams did I come up with the Barnaby Joyce affair, which seems to have silenced the Filing Cabinet Affair.  It would be a difficult choice.
I'm also slogging through this:

which is an academic read from 1990  prompted by the publication of Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses.
But I've got this to look forward to:

Anyone would think I've got friends going to Iran soon...

ridji didj

Another week with plenty to do but no photos.  I was hoping to journal the hunt for Sea Lavender which is supposed to be going on as I type but I can't find hide nor hair of the hunters.  Possibly because of the rain.  Apparently Sea Lavender  (Limonium baudinii) is found only in 2 places in Tasmania, Triabunna being one.  I've always had a bit of a fascination with Nicolas Baudin and I'm also intrigued that this is a marshy plant which looks like the statice that grows along the roadside in arid western New South Wales.
I'm listening to the Jordi Savall (who is also rather fascinating) concert as I blog.  Earlier I heard William Barton singing and playing didgeridoo, which I also love, so am having a great day.  Finished above Monet book sitting on the back porch with soft rain and a pot of tea.  It'a a wonderful book especially at $2 from the Pop Up Book Shop where I was last Saurday.
Saturday night I went to a flamenco guitar concert in Swansea with readings of poetry inspired by Frederico Garcia Lorca and some of Lorca's work too.  The rest of the week was the usual gym and zumba but I also finally went to the dentist, had very interesting meetings at the Village and also with the Suicide Prevention Network, plus a Leaders' Forum featuring our political leaders - we have an election next Saturday.  So  you can understand why I have no photos.
HOWEVER the previous post about filming at The Gatehouse because it's part of the Aussie entry at the Venice Biennale is absolutely RIDJI DIDJ.  You Doubting Thomases.

On location with the Pharaoh Dog

It's been a big week for The Pharaoh Dog and Entourage.  The Gatehouse is to be one of the featured architect designed buildings in the Australian Pavilion at the 2018 Venice Biennale.  The filming schedule has been brutal but a breeze for the consummate professional.

Most of the photography took place from a tripod placed round about here to capture the comings and goings, including the peerless opening and closing of the buildings each day.

Here are some stills (doubtless to be snapped up for promotional purposes and souvenirs for the culture-starved Venetians).

Pretending to be anxious in the gale force winds.

Contemplating what could be next in the Year of the Dog.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Happy Birthday CKB

Corinne's birthday today (it's 15 Feb in Australia).
We've had about 50 Ducatis ride through town in her honour.  Monet et Goyen, Peugeot or Papillon would have been more appropriate but c'est la vie.  To compensate, I cooked delicious seafood in a buttery garlic sauce for lunch and not my usual spaghetti marinara.  Also had a crisp white, though not from New Zealand.

And Easter's on its way.

Where do I go to, my lovelies?

There hasn't been anything momentous to blog, although we have had rain and I had  my second Hepatitis shot which knocked me around for a cuppla days.  So here's a bit of a round up for the week.

I realised that the garden and table cloth have begun to merge.

The new seafood and wine bar where we went for coffee after Zumba.

Beautiful location but still hasn't worked itself out menu-wise.

I'm going to bore you silly with photos of this sculpture, formerly part of a bold exhibition at the Spring Bay Mill (see here and here ), but relocated to the RSL grounds opposite the Gatehouse and looking comparatively meek.

These are for the benefit of Sandrine who saw it in its original position and is contemplating painting  it.

It was interesting to see the rickety rackety troll bridge from this angle.

And the Lone Pine from Gallipoli.

and the not so lone pine cones.

Gratuitous photos of Gatehouse gardens which are coming along nicely and have been a big inspiration for my future garden plans...

Then over to the school to see what is happening in their gardens.

If you look carefully you can see the broad beans coming through.

Yummo.

head butted and moonstruck

Sue, who is married to Henry the Omniscient, was very excited at gym on Wednesday because her cactus was in flower.  After gym, Her Majesty The Queen of Hearts and I trotted around to Sue's to witness the phenomenon.

It was an overcast day so the flowers weren't open to their fullest but absolutely gorgeous nevertheless.  I haven't seen a cactus in flower since early Wentworth days.  The unsung string of pearls was pretty awesome too.

I headed home via the mulberry tree, stopping off for a bit of a graze.  As I approached the narrow start to the walkway home I noticed the  tethered goat blocking the entrance.  I say 'the goat' because I think Triabunna only has one goat and he / she seems to be loaned around the town to keep grasses and blackberries under control.  I wasn't overly worried because it always seems placid and was wagging its tail.  It was, however, in a playful mood and would not let me pass.  After dancing for a while and stroking its nose, I grabbed the horns and tried to lever it out of my way.  The goat fought back and impaled my jumper on the barbed wire fence.  Its hard to disentangle yourself from a fence when a goat is butting you.  And then I remembered that Sue had given me some plums.  Gently one by one I fed it plums as I eased myself free and manoeuvred to where I wanted to be and proceeded home. I was a little worried about the plum stones but figure goats eat worse than that.

I watched the Big Blue Blood Moon rise as I walked back from closing the Gatehouse (I don't know why sky shots bring out those strange shapes on my camera).  Fortunately 300 Years of French & Saunders was on tv to help me make it to eclipse time.  We watched the eclipse to a fine silver sliver and then a cloudbank came over and I retired to bed.  Steve woke me a little later to see the moon now a beautiful apricot with a pink blush.

And if you want to see where my soul hovers, go here.