The New Order

Now that Mum is in a nursing home, my plan is to go to Adelaide more often but for shorter periods of time.  And fly instead of driving to avoid the risk of being caught in Victoria.  So here I am at the Hobart airport trying to juggle a baguette, coffee and a selfie,

and not doing a very good job of having my mask over my nose.  Naturally I got better at the mask thing as I sat in airports and planes.  I can now even read while wearing a mask without my glasses fogging up.

I stayed in Mum's house which only involved a walk to the O-ban, bus ride, walk to the railway station, train ride, short walk to the bus station, bus ride and cross the road to the nursing home.  Two hours each way, so it's lucky I like travelling on public transport - something I don't have much opportunity to do in Triabunna.  The photo above was taken from the train somewhere around Marino.  I was trying to catch the curve of the ocean and the ships on the horizon - but not very successfully from a moving train.

Last Sunday, the Floosie and I rendezvoused to lunch and catch the Clarice Beckett exhibition.  We strolled Rundle Road looking for a bookshop that, we discovered, is no longer there.  This provided the opportunity for me to show FF some of the Adelaide I know and love, like the Botanic Hotel looking very inviting.  But onwards to the Art Gallery of South Australia.

The Floosie looking miffed

that I look so interesting...

the tantalising entry to the exhibition

 

the first painting discussed by our guide

Our guide was excellent, as was the exhibition.  Clarice Beckett was a painter of the 'every day' and did not conform to the style fashionable at the time.  Consequently her father did not appreciate her work or encourage it.  Despite his wealth, he refused to build her a studio and she had to paint en plein air or at the kitchen table.  Her work is perhaps more beautiful for this.

Appreciating another's work is one thing but the gallery cafe still calls.

We shared a pot of rather exquisite tea specially blended to honour Ms Beckett.  And then it was back to the exhibition for an independent viewing.  There was so much lovely work.  It was rather spell binding.  Which is not to deny we had our irreverent moments.

I particularly liked this work because it captures the time of day that I like best.

Here we have one of the few portraits - Clarice's sister Hilda who was responsible for the preservation of 100s of pieces of Clarice's work after her death at the age of 48.

The exhibition was very thoughtfully curated and emphasized the domestic and local nature of her work.

This is a photo totally unrelated to anything except as a reminder to me to keep fruit trees small.  This is a garden I passed every day on my way to the o-ban station, and have been keeping my eye on for years.

 

The very wise flower barrow in Rundle Mall. I am attempting to grow ornamental kale in one of  my garden squares.

The visit was, of course, tinged with sadness.  Mum has left the home she has lived in since 1964.  I have stayed in 'my' bedroom for the last time and it will not look like this again.  My niece and two mates will be sharing the house soon.  This is good news, for it will be well cared for.

But I think this was the last time I will stay there.

Curiously this book was for sale at the local library for 50c, obviously a 'must have'.

The last day came and Pearl picked me up and drove me to the airport, stopping en route for our traditional lunch at Ikea.  Knocked us back $10 in total for the two delicious meals.

I finished this book at the airport.  Not my favourite Donna Leon but about the closest I'll ever get to Venice, I suspect.