Sunday 5 December 2021

Time and Truth

 In the absence of any better idea, I'm relying on the title of a concert I went to nearly 2 weeks ago.  I can't believe my last blog post was so long ago.  The time has been spent very pleasantly.


This was a long production and a little disappointing.  It is a moral but not religious work, and I feel that the cathedral was not the right venue.  As you can see, Mrs O Henry and I were towards the back and couldn't see the action.  This isn't ordinarily a problem when its just choir and orchestra because the acoustics are fabulous, but this show was a little operatic with interplay among the 5 soloists (Beauty, Pleasure, Deceit, Time and Counsel) that it would have been nice to be able to see.  We could occasionally glimpse His and Her Majesties singing their hearts out, but Jackie Bear and the sopranos were totally invisible.  On the other hand, it was Hobart's St David's Cathedral and I do love being there.
As we walked back to the car, we decided to venture into The Hanging Gardens.  What a revelation!  This is a bar / eating space behind stores on the major shopping streets.  On a Sunday afternoon it had the atmosphere of the beer gardens in English pubs.  Because there is no street frontage, children and dogs roamed freely.  Most of the patrons were clusters of young parents.  Music boomed out and Mrs O and I were totally enthralled, though feeling a little ancient.  Rumour has it that it has a darker vibe at night but it was just the revitalising BOOM that we needed for the drive back to Bunna.

There has been rain, and my garden has been beautiful though over run with weeds.

The Englishy bit of the garden that was to be re-located this year has stayed in situ and, of course, has flourished.
foxgloves the best they've ever been
the view from  my bed

I have also become a domestic goddess.  The school lunch program is currently on hold so I have turned my talents to mince pie making.  Sadly I have just read on the Robertson's Fruit Mince jar that there are 56gms of sugar for every 100gms of fruit mince.  Alarming because I've become addicted to mince pies and a glass of bubbly.  Georgia, Oscar, Remi, Kit and I had a Thanksgiving dinner at Georgia's which was rather wonderful.  It was my first, but Georgia and Co spent many years in The States and knew what to do.  We did break with tradition, having sage-wrapped chicken instead of a turkey, roast vegies including broad beans, spanokopita and rhubarb crumble (no oats).  We tried to use as much garden produce as possible.  And we had mince pies and bubbly...  I was too busy being grateful and convivial to take photos.

During this period of domesticity and heightened sensibility from the arty types who surround me, I have become aware of pleasing everyday images, like an empty cup, saucer and plate on the deck.  It really is quite exhausting.
And here I am turning my hand to elderflower ice-cream, first making a syrup.  It looks very pretty but I think the honey will overwhelm the flowers.

I'm not finding much time for reading, though I am still engrossed in the Habitat book and learning all the time.  I decided to just read frivolity for a while, indulging in a Liane Moriarty and the Marion von Adlerstein above.  MvA was the travel writer for Vogue and I am grateful to her for suggesting always packing some black underwear when you travel so that you never miss out on an opportunity to swim, and the concept of rolling instead of flat packing clothes.  Invaluable advice.  The Freudian Slip is a very snobby read but wonderful fun, and the Truth newspaper has a role to play.

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