Au revoir chez Pearl

My time in Adelaide and just about daily visits to Mum were coming to an end.  I had bought an anniversary present for Steve in Victor Harbor and, although I had not booked my return travel, thought it would be a nice touch to actually be there on the 22nd anniversary of our wedding... But I did want to see Sandrine's new house in Mildura.  Before that, there were things that must be done.

Like, catch the train to the city and buy a banh mi at the railway station.  I saw this poster in a shop in the Adelaide Arcade and had to take a photo to send to the Floosie.  She and I have many interests in common but she abhors fantasy literature.

  I was tempted to buy a new cottage for Flowers the Maid

There was Pearl and my ritual visit to the place that can't be named.  We had a bit of a carb hit and I bemoaned the unavailability of red wine.

I took a drive to Klemzig, where our old house looked very sad.  But I was cheered by 'short eats' from the Sri Lankan grocery on OG Road, and an expensive trip to Mercato where I finally found chestnut flour and some more immediately consumable items like roast artichokes, eggplant parmigiana, Sicilian olives, panini.  You get the picture.

Pearl introduced me to a laneway garden created and maintained by a very civic minded friend of hers.  The lane runs adjacent to the friend's property.  Council had done some planting but it was not well looked after.  Pearl's friend decided to work on it.  Now other people contribute to the planting.   There is a book cupboard, shaded seating and a play area for children.  Children love to play in the fairyland (take that Floosie) and new critters and embellishments appear regularly.  

looking  up the laneway

looking down the laneway, past an enchanted Pearl

it's awful when you think you look perfectly acceptable and later realise you look like a walking blue stemmed mushroom or, possibly, Father Brown

The weather was hot and getting hotter.

One evening we went for a swim at West Beach.

it was 8pm and we were not alone

Spanish Rose had given me a book for Christmas:

I was a little scared to read it in case something awful happened to the little chap.  But I faced my fear and was rewarded with an excellent grounding for my trip to Mildura.  Why people would want to run marathons in the desert is beyond my understanding, however reading of the gruelling preparation allowed me to gather strength and resources for the 400km drive East in 40C heat.  And so, with sad goodbyes, huge gratitude and many bottles of frozen water, off I set.