Le jardin revisité

French, not because of Le Tour but because of la tour d'Eiffel virtually opposite our place.  The work on it is now finished and it looked magnificent one evening as I was driving home.

I haven't written much about the garden lately because there is not much to tell.  I have been reducing the area of productive garden and gradually converting it to predominantly Tasmanian eastcoast endemics.  I don't seem to have the time or energy to be growing lots of vegetables, and I do like the idea of making my garden as wildlife friendly as possible.

Fortunately the garden has a mind of its own so it's sent up broadbeans, silverbeet, mâche and heartsease on its own initiative.

I  altered this small area to be just garden stones and poa.  I'd forgotten about the jonquils, and the artichokes obviously decided to return.

I have learned that it is perfectly acceptable and useful to combine natives and exotics.  The japonica and Silver Princess may not do much more for the wildlife than provide nectar for birds, but they feed my soul.

I am proud of my poa and lichened stones, though can't say I've seen much wildlife hanging around.

All this backyard conversion requires a lot of of pruning and then chipping.  The pile never seems to diminish.

You may recall that when we first moved into this house, over nine years ago, I said the first thing I was going to do was take the heads of these palings to make a standard picket fence.  It will never happen, plus I think that these pickets are probably more appropriate.  Regardless, I like the lichen.

So let's open the gates (we keep them closed these days so Jill can use the doggy door safely day and night) and stroll along Melbourne Street towards George's place.

The footy oval is just about opposite Georgia's  house.  Last weekend there was a big match on and the oval was lined with cars.  I thought of taking a photo but was too lazy.  I believe there will be a big match next weekend and I may drop in to imbibe some atmosphere.  I doubt I'll stay long.  It's all a bit peripheral to me but the heart of Triabunna for many.

Back to the Tribes I love.  The evenings have been beautiful.

Today I finished reading this wonderful book.  I loved Eat, Pray, Love and read it twice at a time when it was just the sort of book I needed to read.  This book is nothing like it.  It is huge in scope, well researched, intellectually challenging, exciting and gratifying.  I wish I'd written it.

Variety week

 For some the week started comme d'habitude (we talk like that during Le Tour).

Sunday morning in the sunroom, possibly after a night watching bikes

I can't actually remember that Sunday, though that may have been the day I started giving Ella driving lessons.

Tuesday saw me sacrifice zumba to visit Malcolm's place with Friends of Triabunna Reserves.  Malcolm's property borders The Pines, one of our strangest reserves because it is Crown Land filled increasingly with self-seeding radiata pine.  Locals often use it as a tip, and it has an eerie atmosphere.

We're returning tomorrow to attack some Spanish Heath and boneseed.  Our reward is soup and delicious sourdough bread at The Village.

Wednesday was civilised scary.  I took my sewing machine into Hobart for repair, only to be told that there was nothing wrong with it.  I'd just forgotten one small step necessary to raise the feed-dogs.  Hmmmm.  So I thought I'd drop in to Bellerive and see if I could get a copy of John Houghton's book on the Bellerive Sorell Railway for a friend.  Bellerive Village has changed so much since we lived there.  I no longer find it charming.

The newsagent does still stock our Bellerive Heritage series but had long sold out of John's railway book.

I consoled myself with the Winter InStyle - unobtainable in Triabunna or Orford, and required reading for a lifestyle like mine.

I had left the car in the carpark behind our old house.  It was amusing to see this sign indicating the  house where we used to live.  We always referred to it as 01 Queen Street because a young Georgia had painted the number on the top of the letterbox while facing the street.

From memory, Thursday was wildly windy so I gave myself permission to do nothing but read Heather Rose The Museum of Modern Love.  I love her writing and am boggled that one person seems to know so much of the tangibles and intangibles of life.  It really challenged me to think.  Being in virtual New York for a couple of days was refreshing too.

Friday was tai chi only cos yoga's on hold for 2 weeks.  Later the Weily Fox and I had a meeting with a local councilor to discuss some community health stuff.  We tossed around ideas during the course of which the councilor mentioned a woman with whom I think I have something in common, ie an ex-husband.

A walk to the shops showed signs of Spring, so I finally spent some time in the garden.

first flowers in Daffodil Alley

the japonica looking good

garlic emerging

hellebores, etc

And I finally got to blutack this card above my bedroom door as a reward for cleaning and tidying my room.  Back in the 1970s I saw an etching of goldfish that I desired with all my heart.  It was $600+ and way out of my league.  I like this little card nearly as much.

This week in Tribes

Just in case you've forgotten where Triabunna is, this helpful map has been posted on the wall of the Triabunna Community Hall, where I go for yoga.  South Australians may be a little surprised.

Saturday last I drove to the Farmers Market in Hobart to see my mates from Maria Voices perform at The Festival of Voices.  First on were some chaps nattily dressed in suits, piano ties and trilbies.  I got myself a warm, sunny spot the only disadvantage of which was that I couldn't hear them.

Maria Voices next.  I still couldn't hear well but I enjoyed watching this gorgeous bunch, as did the cute girl with plaits leaning on the tree.  She, and a number of other children, seemed entranced.

Then another cutie in a pink beanie with bobbles came to the fore and helped Mary Marg conduct for a while.

And this child in the brightly patterned coat took to joyously swinging from the tree.  It was all such fun.  This choir brings happiness to so many people.  I would join if I had time!  And could sing better than I do...

Walking back to the car along Elizabeth Street, I was reminded that Le Tour started that night.  France revisited.

On Tuesday I had lunch at Anne's stone cottage.  As is her wont, she had rejigged the furniture

and can now cook teasingly out of sight.  I had told Steve that I really felt like soup and toast for lunch.  Anne delivered soup and naan bread.  And a delicious Pepperjack red.

Smoky Joe Mozart watched from his new favourite perch, catching the heat from the freshly installed wall heater.

It was also the Week of the Moon.  Resplendent in the evening,

flying high in the morning

until it got snagged on the willow tree.

I don't think I have kept you up to date with the new businesses in town.  Maybe I've mentioned the denture clinic before.  Now we have a barber too.

The Weily Fox and I had a zoom meeting with people in Sydney and Brisbane in pursuit of more goody goody things to do, and then walked the clifftops from her place.  Our reward is that we already live in heaven.

But just to  make sure, yesterday we went to The Eastcoaster for cocktails, but I was also seduced by a porterhouse roast which comes with Yorkshire puddings.  I've never combined a roast and Espresso Martini before.  Highly recommended!

the world is slowly turning

It's a line from a Tina Turner song (In Your Wildest Dreams) but also the way I feel at the moment as the Earth returns from its journey away from the sun.

secret solstice swim

preparing for the Suicide Prevention Network solstice swim

inside the boatshed - the school's paddleboards just in case

the Prosser River later in the morning

It had rained for 2 days prior to the swim.  The sea was dark with sand and seaweed and the river had foam like icebergs.  Over 120 people came to the event with over 30 of us taking to the water.

Some take to the water everyday...

my friend the whitefaced heron, low tide on the estuary at the end of our street

the pied oystercatcher was also there.

Sometimes a pair of them patrol our street this year.

the amazing drive to survive

Some aerial feats too:

upgrading the telstra tower

fascinating to watch from our garden

and then hot foot it to the backdoor,

Jill PD, the bouncing ball and me

curl up in the warm

and curl up with a book

I enjoyed the trip to Amsterdam and encountered the word 'polder' for the first time.  Sadly it was not a Van der Valk story but an ok read.  I sought out My Sister's Keeper because I'd read elsewhere that it mentioned the Seven Sisters story (which it did in one interesting sentence).  The book moves at a cracking pace and raises questions about 'designed babies' and organ donation.  After all this, A Three Dog Problem was a romp through the palace.  It's fun and, to the best of my almost non-existent knowledge, illustrates the business of being queen.

I turned to this book with great excitement and anticipation wondering how Margaret Drabble would use the Seven Sisters story.  I'm still not sure, although at one stage 7 women travel together to visit Homeric sites around the Mediterranean, and apparently there's a place called Seven Sisters in London close to The Grand Union Canal and near where the teller of the story lives.  I was prancing along with the story because there were so many resonances with my own life.  Suddenly the style changed and I lost the plot.

All that time The Floosie was sunning herself in New Caledonia but she's just returned,

and the Gold Bunny keeps blossoming in her honour.  Welcome back The Floose!!!!