Happy Woman Blues

My winter solstice holiday has ended.  After an enjoyable time watching other people work,

I returned to yoga and tai chi on Friday, with Spring Bay Suicide Network meeting in the afternoon.  The Network was the beneficiary of the Solstice Swim - over $800 raised!!  It was obviously a grand event and I am even more miffed that I missed it.  Two of our tai chiers, one of whom is 93, beat the swimmers into the water, by which I mean that they hit 44 gallon drums with metal pipes to send out good vibrations to any who may have been hesitant.  The chi moves in many mysterious ways.

On the home front, Steve and his beautiful assistant caught up on their reading.  Note they each have a corporate beanie from Mars Creative Enterprises Inc.

Friday night was the launch of the Festival of Voices at the Bushland Gardens just down the road.  We had a great Welcome to Country in 3 acts,

including an emu dance and a smoking ceremony.  Maybe we're finally getting our act together.

Boil Up, a Hobart band, was the support to Bustamento.  I preferred Boil Up with their androgynous and cultural mix.  To be fair, Bustamento had spent time at the Orford Primary School earlier in the day, and some of the kids came up on stage and sang and danced with them.  Mrs O Henry, Tai Chi Louise and I danced the night away.  It was great to see lots of men up and dancing, some even on their own.  And the joy of seeing young families dancing together!  A great night.

This morning I was a little worse for wear.  But I had cunningly planned a breakfast treat and restorative.  The last of the cumquats I bottled.  I savoured them and then licked out the jar for good measure.

And over the course of the day, I have finished reading The Handmaid's Tale.  I'm not brave enough to watch it on television but I suspect you get the same effect if you read the book and watch the news.  I am in awe of Atwood's brilliance - her awareness, her perception, her way with words.

solstice holiday

Much as I'd like to regale you with tales of the last fortnight or so, there's not a lot to regale.

I went into the big smoke on a Thursday.  Cuppla photos to prove I was there.

It was the start of Dark Mofo, and the red flags did their best to fly.

The Friday was yoga, then tai chi.  Two very smart chaps had pulled into the Community Health Centre but unfortunately did not join us.

The Saturday featured the Grand Opening of Chard, which has replaced the Rusty Devil.

I took this photo a couple of days later to try to capture an idea of the stock.  Somehow I didn't notice the overturned basket and strewn flowers.  Possibly the Emperor Penguin had me in its thrall.  On the Sunday, Mrs O Henry, Louise Tai Chi and I went into Hobart (again!) to the Farmers' Market.  We bought nothing but a Mexican style hot chocolate.  Then went on to have a fun and delicious lunch at Raincheck in North Hobart.  So lovely to be among a young and groovy set.  By and large.  There were a few older and wiser types there too.
All proceeded comme d'habitude until the following Thursday when, unplanned, I woke up with a cold which I'm still trying to shake off.  My aim was to be well for Saturday's Winter Solstice Swim but, alas, alack, I wasn't, so had a big sleep in instead, and have slept in every morning since.  The swim raised nearly $900 for the Suicide Prevention Network!  I'm hoping there are some photos.  I'm feeling a bit pathetic about not participating, especially after exhorting half of Triabunna to swim.  The always clever and sensible Pearl has suggested swimming at the Summer Solstice instead.  After a little sluggish thought, I realised that the summer solstice here will be the winter solstice in Wales.  And to celebrate this amazing realisation, I've decided to have a solstice holiday and just enjoy myself until I'm fully well again.

There has, of course, been reading.  I've finished this cleverly researched and inspiring biography of the woman who created the first garage staffed only by female mechnanics.

Steve heard the author of this one interviewed on Radio National and thought the story 'right up my alley'.  I thought it would be too.  However it is one of the few books I did not finish.  There are only so many facebook messages I can handle.  I appreciate that community history FB pages are useful to get people engaged and sharing information but they are very clumsy to read in a book.  The book itself felt clumsy to me. The storyline was not consistent and contained too many irrelevant tangents  to my way of thinking.  Perhaps I am becoming too linear.  I also couldn't believe that people would not think of consulting a local history society first up. I think it demonstrates how poorly history and research skills are taught.

I consoled myself with some Virginia Woolf.  I remember The Lighthouse was on Steve's bookshelf when I first met him.  I was duly impressed. It turns out that neither of us read it...  It is, of course, a perfect book to whip you into a frenzy about the stultifying effect of societal gender roles.

This one came highly recommended by the Zumbettes, and much anticipated by me after 'Summer at Mount Hope'.  I didn't enjoy it half as much.  Probably not Ms Ham's fault.  The angst about water, water allocations, water brokers, greed, corruption and just not having a clue how to find out what is really happening, took me right back to the Riverina, Sunraysia and the Murray Darling Basin Authority.  I've just put a hold on 'There should be More Dancing'.  That may be more my cup of tea.

Her Majesty recommended this one after I mentioned an extremely funny account of a horse race from the horses' point of view in The New Yorker.  The sheep solve the mystery of their shepherd's death in Ireland.  Lots here that I can applaud.

I've had the guilts about Alien Son ever since we were supposed to read it at school and I have no recollection of ever doing so.  I now think it was a well intentioned try to educate us but I really didn't care back then.  The irrelevance of Stan Babblingyak, Peter Sillynickers and others to my then world is appalling.  Ironic in the light of my subsequent work with migrants and refugees.  The edition we had at school had a particularly unappealing cover with gaunt, stick figures in black and white.  Would I have read the book if it had Max Dupain's 'little aussie 1942' on the cover?

This weekend I got stuck into Pufferfish, having lunched with David Owen a fortnight ago.  I had read them before but I can't remember where.  These were written in 1995, so it was more than likely after we had moved from Tasmania.  I remember the pleasure of events occurring in places I knew but I don't remember any emotional pull back to Tasmania.  This time, I'm keen to wander around old haunts.

And now I'm left with only this library book to browse.  Written in 2006, many of the restaurants referred to no longer exist.  There are some beautiful photos, though, and interesting info on quinces, saffron, scallops and other delights.  There are also recipes for anyone interested.

The Thump

The first time I heard of ECCAI (The East Coast Community Arts Initiative  https://www.facebook.com/eastcoastcommunityartsinitiative/ ) I immediately thought of Ecky Thump and The Goodies.  I've been to a cuppla Thumps, most recently on Saturday.  It was a literary festival in Swansea and Her Majesty was to read two Les Murray poems before we dined.

Lunch was at Piermont http://piermont.com.au/restaurant/ which is rather swisho

as are the views

and the stone work so reminiscent of some of my favourite St Davids buildings.

The food was  fabulous and the serves generous.  Our 2 course meal was $45 each, so not cheap but good value for exciting food.  I didn't take any photos, not wanting to look gauche before the glitterati.

After lunch Her Majesty and I went for a stroll around the property.  There are Edna Wallingesque cottages to rent or buy, plus some groovy modern places being built - see Piermont website for investment opportunities!

When we got back to the restaurant, we had the place to ouselves so did a quick re-enactment of Her Majesty's poetry reading.

It really was very special.

We followed the crowd to the Swansea Community Hall, or so we thought, but somehow we were among the first there so sat right up the front.  Our fellow diners must have gone for a siesta or suchlike.  In the photo above you can see poet Sarah Day's left arm and Pufferfish series author David Owen's back.  Sarah interviewed David, then David interviewed Meg Bignell author of The Sparkle Pages.  I love Sarah and David's work and am 87th on the library holds list to read Meg's book...

I needed to get my Cymru cushion from the car for someone who complained about the seats.

We left as evening washed over Swansea.

Another magic day.

And then today Her Majesty told me she'd had a phone call last night to say that she had won the raffle!!!!  A night's accommodation at Piermont.  Lucky thing.

laissez faire Thursday

I like lists.  But Thursday is my day with no ongoing commitments so sometimes I like to wake up with no plan at all and see where the day takes me.

Time to appreciate the shadows

and my zygocactus flower

And also to get fish and chips for lunch in the garden.  I was impressed that the new nautical decorations at the Road House included marine debris - perhaps inspired by last year's Marina de Bris exhibition and the East Coast Clean-up.

and rain later the same day

so we celebrated with egg and bacon sandwiches.

First Winter Sunday, first frost

I got up a little later this morning to celebrate the first Sunday of winter.  I wanted to watch the light steal into the bedroom and hear the birds singing.  Outside it was frosty and slightly misty.  Very beautiful.  (I really must find a way to get rid of those marks on the camera - much as I like the black moon.)

Jill and I came back from the Gatehouse via the school garden.  I've been wanting to photo these hands and keep forgetting.  The students used ochre and I've heard that they were very impressed by the young Aboriginal people who led the activity.

Some rather captivating cauliflowers are emerging.

Yesterday I joined the Orford Community Group to make boomerang bags .  I had the job of ironing the straps, which is about the limit of my ironing ability.  I have some cut-out  bags to sew at home so hopefully will be able to show you a finished product.  I find it hard to believe that there is a need for such bags.  I thought we all carried shopping bags around with us but, it seems, not so.  The local supermarket is keen to have them for sale to offer shoppers an alternative to plastic.