The Strange and the Beautiful

 We are having strange weather.  Wet and warmish.  The garden and I love it.

wild evening skies last week

It is that beautiful time of abundance again, at least in my little world.  Steve buys apricots whenever he leaves Triabunna.  Our trees have not done us proud this year.  The cherries come from various sources.  The first of the O'Henrys' peaches.  Perfection as always.

yesterday's lunch using up ham, cheese and herbs from Friday night pizzas

The orchard may fail but I do good herbs.

the split mulberry tree behind the pub

continues to produce abundantly

the shed at the pub

The annual Spring Bay Studio exhibition, this year called Go Figure, is on so we swanked along last week after masked tai chi at Suzie's.

I love this piece by John, one of our Soiree mob.  Entitled Warhorse and Songbird, it makes me want to weep at the loss and destruction of war, and brings to mind Sebastian Faulks' novel Birdsong.

This joyous work is by one of the Sunday Swimmers.  Talking of which

before the tsunami

after the tsunami

Not really, of course.  But there were warnings on the news this morning, and local residents came out to notify us, which was lovely.  Some stayed on the beach, possibly in anticipation...  We were alert but not alarmed, although I was aware of my own hypocrisy -  I who rant incredulously when people attempt to drive through flood water and put emergency services at risk.  But I must say Dot and I did enjoy hamming up the photo-shoot, and bewailed the loss of the Spring Bay Theatre Troop (or whatever we were called).

May Tonga and surrounding areas be safe.

And the rains came

As forecast, we had good gentle rains and I was able to finish off a few books. 

I have shown you this one before.  The Floosie gave it to me.  I have now read it cover to cover and am much wiser in preparing my garden for wildlife, though I'm not expecting to be rushed by echidna, quolls and bandicoots.  It is such an engagingly written book that it's like going on a garden tour with a friend.  The photos and detailed information are amazing.  Best of all, a wild-life friendly garden is the perfect reason for leaving the garden to its own devices.  But I have to plant a lot more small and prickly shrubs for the wrens and finches.  The plants don't have to be endemic, or even Australian natives, but I think that is what I'll plant.  Still keep the fruit trees and vegie gardens.

I came across designer Axel Vervoordt via his castle featured in Desire to Inspire , which is my daily read.  I got this book from the library and lingered over every page.  I love his design philosophy and came to understand my own ideas better.  He lives in, and designs for, a different stratosphere where money is obviously no object and ancient artefacts can be casually thrown (actually, artfully placed) around a room, but I agree with his tenet that it's about finding the right place for things.  As far as I can see, this is the only book of his which the library has - sadly.

Sandrine sent me a heavy, cubic parcel which I was sure contained a Christmas pudding.  In fact it held 3 books of which this is one, and a very mysterious one.  Called The Bidders by John Baxter, apparently an Australian writer now living (possibly dead) in Paris.  It is a very strange story.  Turns out to be a love story but I think is really just a vehicle for him to show off his knowledge of the dodgy tricks of the art and auction world.

This one I'm still reading.  Having dabbled in some Tasmanian history research, I'm stunned at how the researchers, admittedly academics, have discovered and pulled together so many sources.

Still reading this one too.  Naturally I thought it would be about life in New York, which it is, but particularly the gay scene in the 1960s and 70s.  Who knew.  Golly gosh.

New Year retrospective...

 When you move with a wanky art crowd you think in terms of retrospectives, etc.

view from the back door last night

I am eagerly awaiting the forecast storm.  I have been working in the garden over the festive season to take advantage of the rain, when it comes.  Despite La Nina the garden is very dry.

parsley flowers and orach create red and green for Christmas

dietes continue to educate me in their wily flowering ways

the beautiful paper barks giving us a white Christmas

Georgia and Ella came for dinner on New Year's Eve.  Being a Friday, we had pizza.  Bubbly first, with some mince pies as aperitif.  Steve bought me a box of these Chain of Ponds bubbles and I really do like them. Love, of course, that they come from Adelaide and a place important in the early days of our arrival in Australia.  Georgia brought the Cox shiraz and we had it with our pizza.  It was an early night because they both had to work the next day.  I thought I may wake up in time to see the new year in, but I was an hour late.  I volunteered at PUBS the next day - sales were very slow.

Georgia is cutting swathes through her meadow / paddock.  Jill is pre-occupied with pine cone fetching.

This path leads to the Picnic Tree.  So far we have had no picnics beneath it but I believe it is also being used as a meditation space.  What a magic piece of land.

Christmassyish

Christmas certainly isn't what it was.  All that angst and all those hours spent visiting people you should.  Not to mention the time and money spent buying presents for the sake of it.  We don't do any of that now.

Mum and I dancing in the kitchen at 16 Ramsay, Christmas 1973?

Mum in the  nursing home, Christmas Day 2021

Mum taking the mickey out of my tai chi sometime in the '70s.

Dad fishing in the background, Marion Bay, Tasmania.

Mum looking sparky, Proclamation Day (28th December) 2021

We had Christmas Dinner on Christmas Eve.  Georgia (Steve's daughter) and Ella (her daughter) came to dinner.  It is lovely having them live just up the road.  We had ham, turkey, etc and then a vegan Xmas pudding that Georgia created.

flaming the inaugural vegan Chrissy pud

The pudding was delicious, reminiscent of the Xmas pudding I used to make that my Dad called Sultana Splodge.  I like a moist pudding, heavy with fruit and spice.  And that was it.  Georgia and Ella joined the rest of the adult children in Hobart for Christmas, and Steve and I did nothing for 2 days.  Heaven.

A young couple with a baby camped in a tent next door.  This was rather lovely and created the spirit of Christmas.

Fried Mother Board, and other recipes for Christmas success

 I haven't been able to blog for a while, and this is why.

Somehow I left the kitchen tap running.  Washing the kitchen floor had been on my agenda (for quite a while) and so it came to pass.  Unfortunately the water running over the kitchen bench shorted the the laptop.  Naturally this resulted in a 'fried motherboard', which seems to be the outcome of any personal computer incident.  And of course this necessitated buying a new computer.  So here I am learning the ropes...

There has been other excitement around the traps.

 the new building for Grades 11 & 12 gets lifted in to the school

 the removal of the fence at Sommai's gets us in a frenzy that a new cafe may open in the new year

the zumba Christmas celebration comes to a close and it's still before noon

Van Diemen's Band carols at The Mill has become my real Christmas event

the following evening there are carols at Our Park in Orford with  Maria Voices, a group of  people who just like to get together to sing

not forgetting that some houses have done us proud

And I have done some reading, mostly Aboriginal history and native plant gardening, but also these novels starring Josephine Tey as the detective.  Not my favourite murder mysteries by a long way but a rollicking good read with some history thrown in.

Have yourselves a Merry little Christmas.  Georgia and, possibly, Ella, are coming for ham, mince pies and bubbly tonight.   Then we will be left in splendid isolation.

Amazing alacrity

(Perhaps I should re-visit the alphabet series from 2019??  Possibly with alliteration?)

the Christmas decorations are up

hopefully they'll withstand the rain

Saturday was the Suicide Prevention Network's Memorial Service.  The weather kept us on our toes.  It was wet and windy as we put up the tents and put out the seats.

Sunny but gusty as the ceremony progressed.  We had the Maria Voices singing for us this year with a magpie carolling along

and (look carefully) this bird happy to just watch  proceedings.

We moved en masse to the beach where, to everyone's surprise, the sand was warm.

We had plenty of rose petals for people to scatter in remembrance of loved ones,

with some ashes scattered too.

It all went beautifully and network members repaired to Wattle Banks cafe to congratulate ourselves.

Sunday it was back to Spring Beach but for a 9 o'clock swim and then an abundant breakfast at the aptly named house 'Camelot', starting with a tot of Baileys.

The only photo I took was of these gorgeous sandals, which turned out to be Crocs.  And now I have to hunt some down,

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.