In praise of my blog

I don't have many readers of my blog these days.  Blogs are a dying medium and sometimes I wonder whether to continue BUT THEN a question arises about some event in the past and I scroll through past posts seeking information and PROOF (for those who remember the Hugo Weaving film).  I don't always find what I'm looking for but I love seeing my life flash before my eyes.  The blog acts as a journal, particularly a garden journal.  And so I shall continue, even if it's only for me and my garden plans.

Flowers from Georgia's garden to remind me of the Sip n Paint sessions she took at the Darlington Vineyard during Great Eastern Wine Week.  I didn't attend any of her sessions but I heard rave reviews, and have seen quite a few paintings of the daffodils.

I couldn't resist Chard's re-opening, even though I need absolutely nothing.  I told Cheryl (who owns and runs Chard) that I was not there to buy but to enjoy her inspiration and design.  Her sense of style is amazing.  She divides the space into small rooms a little like Ikea and decorates them with online finds at incredibly low prices.  It is an upmarket recycle shop.  I think it is also an addiction for Cheryl.  She leased out the shop due to health problems but no-one does it like Cheryl!  When the lease expired, she took it back on.

Then there was the Sunday  Steve summoned me to The Village to meet a German Shepherd pup.  Be still my heart.  Heike lives with Liz and Carl J on Bruny Island.  She is one lucky puppy.

And last week, amazingly my friend Vivien arrived from Sydney for 5 days in Hobart.  We were childhood friends in England and have seen each other three times since, and not for the last 20+ years.  She had exhibitions and galleries to attend but the Wednesday was ours.  I picked her up in Hobart and drove via Richmond to Triabunna via The Darlington Vineyard, venue for Georgia's Sip n Paint that afternoon.  Meet and greet with Steve and George then up the East Coast to Swansea, for lunch at Salt Shaker overlooking the beach.  Seafood chowder and wine for two, of course.  Then back down that magnificent coastline for a quick look at the view of Freycinet from Boomer Creek Vineyard, and on to Hobart via Sorell this time.  Then a facetime (or similar) chat with Rosemary in Spain from Vivien's hotel room.  A fabulous day, and a careful night time drive home.

I took my own Wine Week adventure last Saturday.  I have been watching the construction of a beautiful building on a gentle rise just before Swansea for some months.  I thought perhaps it was the house of the people who run Tasman Sea Salt  but it turns out to be a new cellar door winery at Mayfield.  It was a $120.00 adventure but proved well worth it despite being a white and pinot winery which, sadly, is what the East Coast grows.

The view from the carpark is enticing - shame about the cars!

farmier this way.

very farmy this way

We had bubbles and salt enhanced canapés at the winery then set off for our first walk across the fields to the newish Tasman Saltworks.  A rosé (from memory) at the saltworks, an explanation of the salt making process, and an experiment in flavour boosting with cherry tomatoes and chocolate. [Unfortunately this has made  me remember that Steve bought me some salted caramel Lindt chocolate yesterday at my request.  Hypothesis supported.]  Above you can see the shadows of the photographer and corner of the salt shed.   Off we trotted like sheep to our next destination. 

Fortunately we all wore stout boots, as advised, for this part of the expedition took us to a narrow beach with the tide coming in, and up and down rocks.  This is the sort of jaunt I love, though challenging with a glass in hand.

We clambered around the headland to the relic of the Mayfield jetty.  There a table was set up with platters of oysters, fresh and kilpatricked.  Fresh oysters!  The biggest, plumpest I have ever seen.  A cold and crisp chardonnay accompanied.  Unfettered by companions and manners, I launched into the fresh oysters.  Absolute heaven.  Then it was a bit more beach walking and bush bashing back to the winery where pinot and pizza awaited.  A magnificent 2 hours.