Making tracks

I am now Officer in Charge of Lawn Mowing, a position I swore I would never assume.

It does have its advantages.  I have been able to amuse myself by mowing paths through the orchard.

I also ensure that there are mown paths all around the garden so I can access it pleasantly even after heavy dew or torrential rain.  Above, you can see the native plant part of the garden slowly taking shape.

the cunning plan more apparent here

note self-sown broad beans on left

Both Georgia's lawn mowers have broken down.  We have had a lot of rain recently and I noticed the interesting track she was leaving in the long grass as she tested her new rural property owner boots.

Jill PD, of course, loves Georgia's paddock.  It is a glorious piece of land.

Yesterday was Her Majesty's birthday so we went on a road trip to the Margate Train.  It is a row of carriages with a specialty shop in each carriage, some of dubious taste.

And I mention all this tracky stuff because tomorrow I am off to Adelaide, just for a week, to visit Mum.  This may come as a surprise to certain residents of Fleurieu Peninsular.  I will be staying at West Beach and I think it will be too complicated to make plans.  Hopefully next year I'll be able to ferry and drive over, and perhaps take in some coastal walks...

further to my previous

I forgot some stuff.
There was no lunch prep during the school holidays so I took myself off with The Walking Group.  They were going to Banwell, an East Coast property I'd always wanted to visit.

a very short walk

to the end of the small but incredibly beautiful beach

I had another mission to accomplish further up the Tasman Highway.

Return to Boomer Creek Vineyard.

These cows were in calf when I visited the vineyard during Wine Week.  It was lovely to see mothers and calves this time.

But the real reason I was there was a glass of bubbly, some olive oil and the truffle brie.

Days of wine and roses

You know that I have been doing zumba at the Orford Golf Club for about 5 years now.  I don't think I've ever shown you where the golf club is situated.

this is not zumba - a photo submitted by The Floosie - but I'm sure the benefits are the same

This is the Orford Golf Course.  I lifted the photo from their website.  I was looking for the menu for their Friday Night Meals.  It was my first sortie into this culinary tradition very popular among locals.  I was invited to a farewell dinner for George.

George and Leslie live in Queensland and come to Triabunna for the winter! Most unusual given half the Spring Bay population winters in Queensland.  George has thrown himself into just about every activity available - golf, choir, table tennis, art classes - though not yoga, tai chi or zumba. Hence I met him at Sunday Swimming.  Don't look for me in the photo above.  I haven't been swimming for a few weeks.

But I turned up for dinner at the golf club and au revoir chocolate cake.

Other news.

Georgia managing her property

Georgia and I went to the opening of a new accommodation block at The Spring Bay Mill. It was Georgia's first Smoking Ceremony and she was very excited.  As you can see, the weather was not ideal but we joined in all activities and had a fabulous celebratory time.

a newly landscaped area outside the new accommodation, blessed by a low rainbow

Last Sunday saw the opening of a Pottery Exhibition at The Village.  Here you can see Dorothy, the tutor, talking about the inspiration behind some of her work.  She really is a wonder.

And as for roses, the Gold Bunny has never looked better.  I am on to those sneaky harlequin bugs.  They eat into the buds and destroy them.  I now have a regime of hand picking them off and throwing them into the weed tea where they can take their chances.  Those who can swim and abseil have the advantage.

The joy of worms

The view from the kitchen window now the laundry has been demolished.  We have had a lot of gentle rain.  The rain, plus hours of work in the garden, has produced worms.  You may recall that when we bought the house (2014), the garden was very neat and sterile.  Most of it was under layers of carpet to stop those pesky self sowers.  I spent hours pulling up that carpet and more hours pouring wood ash, manure, compost, seaweed and mulch on to that pale, compacted ground.  For quite a few years I was disappointed, and frustrated, at the scarcity of worms but this year big fat juicy ones, long thin slimey ones, worms that wiggle and squirm.  Now the garden can get a wriggle on.

aquilegia looking promising

a melange...

a posing magpie

and spiders are very welcome too

Wilma Nextdoor gave me bluebell plants the year we moved in.

Finally flowering.

triumphant lily of the valley

I have long cursed that I can't get gaura to grow in this garden.

Just realised rocket flowers are a pretty good substitute.

getting ready for the broadbean explosion

This is the first year I've experienced the wonderful perfume of their flowers.

So many joys in the garden!

days of heavy lifting

Yipppeee.  Mizzling rain today so I can stay inside.  The garden is showing promise but there is not yet much of horticultural significance to share.  The deck is finished

and there have been one or two days of sunshine to enjoy early morning coffee on the tiny bit of east-facing. I shall show more of the deck at a later date.  Its completion has led us to redesign the garden (to some extent).  This involves digging up the pavers that currently form the path through the back garden.

To say they weigh a ton would be to exaggerate, but only slightly.  Steve has undertaken to dig one up each day. I clean it and move it via trolley to the back of the garden and manoeuvre it into place for storage.  Of course, I had to create a storage space which involved reconfiguring pavers we had moved some years ago to dismantle the airline runway we had down the centre of the garden when we bought the house.  I am very tired and have put my boxing career on hold until the end of daylight saving.  But it is a rewarding pursuit because progress is readily apparent.  It also involves moving the lavenders again.

Georgia has returned our chipper after a sentence of hard labour at her place.  This is timely because 

one of our Silver Princesses split in the wind

and I've got a lot of chipping to do.

This all coincides with me adopting a new garden mantra:  a garden isn't complete until nothing more can be removed. I can't remember where I read it but it is, unsurprisingly, of Japanese origin.

All these foxgloves, hellebores and aquilegia were due for removal last year.  Fortunately I never got around to it and they are having their best season ever.  I did remove the stones that bordered them so, perhaps, that made a difference.  The plants were destined for my English Dell but that hasn't happened yet either.

Preceding the entrance to the anticipated English Dell is the Wildlife Pond - but that needs a bit of work too!

And here you have the garden in waiting for Spring burst.  Though the pear tree's looking speccy and one apricot tree has blossomed and now is fruiting.

I haven't totally confined myself to the garden.

The wind has sometimes confined me to a sunny window in the house and a good read.

I have ventured for a walk at Luther Point

where the bay reminds me so much of Caerfai.

I have communed with my mate the white-faced heron who seems to have developed a liking for urban living.

And I have ogled Georgia's wisteria - the stuff of dreams.

words fail me (I can't think of a name for this post) but there are a lot of words...

Blog World has been  quiet.  I think blogs have had their day but I shall continue because I enjoy the reflection required and I find it very useful to look back over the years and see what my garden was doing.  I'm not sure why I missed 3 weeks of posting!  Last week was busy with driving - 3 trips to the city!!!  Lunch with Cynthia in Bellerive on Monday, ultrasound at Rosny Park on Wednesday, concert on Friday night.  I have no photos of these events.  Presumably there are some ultrasound images around somewhere but the medical practice hasn't summoned me so I assume there is nothing urgent - just an overzealous doctor or one with shares in the pathology company.  Hopefully these words will not come back to bite me.

The TSO concert was at the Federation Concert Hall.  Locals have a name for this copper clad, bullet shaped building but I can't remember what it is.  I was lured to do the long drive by Slava Gregorian.  I think of him as a friend because he once performed on a small boat going up the Darling River as part of the Mildura Arts Festival.  It was a blissful experience until a former headmaster told us to stop looking at the scenery and pay attention to the guitarist.  Slava looked a little embarrassed.  

I got to last Friday's concert very early.  I gave myself plenty of time to drive from Triabunna, and had the cunning plan of parking at Rosny Park and catching the bus into Hobart.  This was a very good plan because the bus trip is only 10 minutes and requires no hunting for parking spaces on the waterfront on a Friday night.  It all went so well that I had an hour and a half to while away.  Hobart shops are closed at 6 pm so there was only window shopping.  I then explored the new (to me) waterfront eateries.  There are so many of them, all looking very austere and not able to draw me in.  In fact, by and large, they looked devoid of customers though it was, of course, very early.  With 30 minutes to go, I gave in and traipsed to the concert hall which I then had to circumnavigate because I couldn't find the entrance.  It is quite well hidden beside the Grand Chancellor hotel.  Very confusing for a Provincial.  I whipped out my printed ticket and presented it but it wouldn't scan.  Oh just go in, said the young chappy, so I did.  I presented my ticket to the usher who also couldn't scan it.  I peered at it, without my glasses, and realised it was the wrong ticket.  It was for the Brian Ritchie concert I had attended the week or so before.  I pointed this out to the usher and managed to produce the correct ticket.  Scanning and scamming crossed my mind.

I had booked a seat in the middle of the first row so I could gaze admiringly at my mate Slava.  Naturally I had the concert hall to myself for a while but people began to trickle in.  I discovered that there is a group of people who always sit in the front row.  They don't know each other otherwise but greet each other and exchange news of their doings since the last concert.  The world is an endlessly fascinating place!

I drove home carefully in the inky dark and, to the best of my knowledge, did not kill or maim any animal.

With the exception of one heaven-sent perfect day, the weather has not been clement - strong winds and squally rain.  Most of my gardening plans are on hold but I have caught up with some reading.

I re-familiarised myself with the Hmong people courtesy of Margaret Eldridge.  I was familiar with part of the story from my days at Foreign Affairs and Department of Immigration and Ethnic Affairs, but there was much more to learn.  I felt it necessary to know all this because the Hmong vegetable growers now come to our monthly Triabunna Village Market.  The range and freshness of their vegetable displays have stunned the locals, with a number of people cursing and swearing because they forgot the market was on last Sunday and now haven't got their veggie fix.  It is a wonderful development and I hope the Hmong keep coming.

Sadly I have finished my affair with Monty Don.  I had hoped the book would continue into infinity but, after the maximum number of renewals, I had to return him to the library.

I have also finished People of the River.  It has taken me months to read because it is so enjoyable, educative and challenging to my previous knowledge.  I emailed Emeritus Professor Karskens to thank her for writing such an amazing book.  She wrote back, simply signing herself 'Grace'.

Last night Georgia and I attended a soiree at The Barracks, newly converted to top end accommodation and not yet open to the public.  Georgia arrived early to quality test the bath.

I left at 5 pm, just as it got going, to catch a uni webinar in which I'd enrolled some time ago about the art of the Black Wars, eg https://nga.gov.au/nationalpicture/.  The webinar was not particularly well put together technically but very interesting, making me realise yet again how much I don't know about a period of history I've studied.  Glover and Duterrau were the main artists discussed, but Wainewright also got a mention, which made me remember a book I'd bought at PUBS but so far have not read.

So, another book to read.  It can wait until I've read the Birdman's Wife still on loan from Rob.

For fun, nostalgia and a hit of Corfu weather, I've been re-reading Gerald Durrell's family saga, borrowed from Her Majesty.  This has been pure indulgence as the wind, sleet and showers have buffeted the house most days.