18th January

It is the anniversary of my first wedding.

I found this photo while searching for something else.  I didn't realise at the time what a stunning mob we made.  I have learned so much from all of these people - even the groom.  How I love that CK Beagle, Lady Jayne and Pearl - aka The Easterers - are in the front row with me.

I told you previously that I was reading this book.  I've finished it.  The story seems a little more forced than in de Blasi's earlier books, but still so lovely to eat garden, orchard, meadow and forest fresh in Italy.  Towards the end of the book, the oldest character (in her eighties) says:

'I have always preferred the last bite of my supper to the first, the beginning being fraught with hunger, the last with serenity.  As life should be.'

 A resonance here.

Last night the current series of Fargo ended and then I went to bed and finished this book.

I started watching The Doll Factory on television but it was much too sinister for me.  I could cope with the book.  Fargo had bits I couldn't bear to watch too.  Both had themes of restraint and the yearning for freedom.  More resonance!

The New (and the very old)

Well, 2024 started with a bang! ie both Steve and I managed to stay up to midnight thanks to the ABC and Sydney fireworks.  I also saw a few desultory fireworks from the direction of our marina.  Festive indeed.

There had been talk of greeting the new year with a sunrise swim.

Seemed a good idea at the time but I was too lazy to participate.  Those who did, loved it and sent gloating photos.

It is easy to take for granted this good life, so it's exciting to have the caravan park filling every afternoon and sharing the joy of a first ferry ride to Maria Island

but always remembering  Tribes is also a working fishing town.

Talking of fish,

I found my gyotaku print while looking for something else in the shed.  Philippe (spelt variously) arose from a workshop Georgia and I did on a rainy day in St Davids back in 2010 .

Georgia - duck - water - etc but I was totally out of my element and amused myself paying tribute to the noble fish.

It has been a time for nostalgia.  Last night the Triabunna Tivoli screened the latest Matilda film.  It was a free screening so I was not required to be in the ticket booth.  I have friends who love dressing up.  I'm not so keen but like a challenge.  They dressed as school girls and I (having nothing school girlish) dressed as a teacher.

I slipped into role easily, possibly scaring a few patrons...  Georgia reminded me that I had been Miss Grimshaw of Grimshaw's Academy back in the Wentworth days, so that sent me spiraling back to those gorgeous days with Rosie and Little Dr Sis.

Dymphna also enjoyed an evening out.  H Bells made every detail of her for me aeons ago.  She represents me as a school girl.  How lovely to have the opportunity to show her off!

Earlier yesterday I went to Malcolm's Tuesday lunch at The Village.  Someone asked if anyone had any corks.

My Dear!  Do I have corks!  So many bubbles and good times.  We had had a Friends of  Triabunna Reserves meeting at The Village the night before.  The lovely Ingrid gave me these chaps:

here lined up for their breakfast yesterday morning.  I had shown her the first parrot some time back.  Sarah had painted it at a Seafest here years ago.  Ingrid used to make model birds for a museum in Vermont back in the day.  These are a joy - carefully weighted so they can keep up an almost perpetual  rocking motion.  By amazing joyous coincidence, Sarah is expected here this weekend for a holiday.

In more mundane matters, I have worked at PUBS twice so far this month.  Unfortunately just when I am surrounded by thousands of books, all my holds at the library arrive.

I have now read The Shipping News and am pretty sure I haven't read it previously.  About the time of its publication I had a friend, Funky Russell, from Newfoundland and may be confusing the two...

And this is my current indulgence.  Listen to this:

" Half-dried figs threaded on butcher's twine hang from iron hooks on the stone wall behind the table and Gilda takes down a string, pulls the still  plump fruit free and begins slicing it thickly, pressing the pieces onto the hot oiled bread and offering the trenchers..." (page 58).

I suspect it will be a while before I can do that.

First two figs of the season, 3 more ripening but more newbies forming.

You may have noticed I've gone off the boil a bit as far as the garden goes.  All the hard work and heavy lifting is done.  I'm now waiting for the self-sown seedlings in the productive garden beds to sort themselves out.  My current thinking is that I'll only grow what I know we'll eat:  silverbeet, garlic, leeks, a few onions and potatoes and fartichokes.  In truth, I'm the only one who will eat these.  Steve is still dedicated to buying - except for tomatoes.   Georgia's garden is doing magnificently and my plan is to raid it and do some weeding while I'm there.  I am indulging in some potted prettiness while waiting for things to evolve.

I must also admit that it is foolish to expect to have a wild life friendly garden and bring things like fruit and berries to harvest.  But wildlife brings joy.  Chumley the Blue Tongue has sloughed in the garden.  To my astonishment I saw the gleaming lizard emerge from the little pond that I thought was used only by Jill PD for drinking water.  Sadly no photo.

May the Shepherd's Delight continue.

And when it does rain, it's time for new work in the studio.

The Old

 The other day (as I was coming out of the loo, actually), I noticed how good this little alcove looked

and this set me noticing other stuff,

like this very colonial glimpse of Triabunna that I pass at least twice a week on my way to Mrs O'Henry's place for tai chi.

Opening the gate at Mrs O's, I realised the much maligned shed next door is actually rather beautiful and much in keeping with Edna Walling's observation of climbing roses:

'In the country they will cover an old shed and make a picture of it with their foliage and flowers.'

In my garden

the Gold Bunny shines

and the Angel Face brings the same joy as did the full moon of a cuppla nights ago.

On the deck a cuppla old blokes reflect on family history in the kitchen window

while I steadily work through my library books.  Only got the Annie Proulx to go.  I thought I'd read The Shipping News yonks ago but I have no memory of it.  I think it's been overshadowed by Rocky's housekeeper's obsession with the shipping forecasts in As Time Goes By.  The Baldacci is a good go by a male at writing a feminist thriller.  At times it took me back to the sadly missed Alphabet Murders series by Sue Grafton.  Thursday Murder Club is good fun and, I suspect, deliberately satisfying for the older reader...  The Angry Women's Choir is so much more thought provoking and complex than Meg Bignell's The Sparkle Pages.  And Simon Winchester.  Well I love Simon Winchester books, and I am currently deeply embedded in China in the 1940s.  This is the biography of Joseph Needham, a scientist entranced with the loooooong culture of China, and its many scientific and engineering firsts.  If it wasn't NYE I'd be reading it now.

Now a flashback to Christmas.  I forgot to post this close-up of the beautiful Christmas Eve trout.

And another old photo:

My friend Bruce sent me this a few days ago.  He is one of the Maria Voices and this photo is taken from the choir looking to the audience.  It features so many of my favourite people.  I am in deep conversation with Hannah, berating her because she'll be leaving Triabunna soon.  Beast.

A little bit of new.  I looked out the kitchen window first thing yesterday and was greeted by a triangular flash of knickers, smalls and sundry others.

Cheeky blighters used their initiative and our carport post.

No-one has ever done this before.  I have to say that these campers looked very Chinese, and demonstrated the amazing problem solving skills that have dazzled me in China and Viet Nam.

So, goodnight until next year.

🎆🎆HAPPY 🎆🎆🎆NEW🎆🎆🎆 YEAR🎆🎆!!!!

The Good Christmas

So, I left you with bated breath awaiting the Christmas Parade.

here they come now

there was a rumor that real deer were involved - not sure about this one

wooden boats are good

kelpie driven boats are better

not everyone wanted to be there

but there's no stopping the Buckland Boot Scooters

Tess and Son showed initiative

 

as did this poor child dragging her float to the petrol station

it had been 3-4 years since the last parade.

Some were prepared to wait.

the Triabunna Christmas Tree, situated between the supermarket and the chemist

The really lovely thing about this event is that it was organised by 'old' Triabunnans, determined to get the parade back for their kids and grandkids.

After the excitement of the Friday night Triabunna Christmas Parade, came the Monday Carols in the Park in Orford.  This is the third year that the fairly recently formed Maria Voices have staged this event.

the weather wasn't perfect

but what did we care (Jac and David actually)?

the show must go on - Good King Wenceslas bosses the page

the Cheryls dress the tree

the Wily One is always The Foxy Fixer.

From then on, domestic pleasures:

Malcolm brought a crayfish for lunch on Thursday

Kyrle brought oysters on Friday

Judy surprised with an astonishing sponge cake on Saturday

Muirlands called for sushi

Taking us to Christmas Eve:

Georgia hailed the fire truck on its lolly run

John contributed a Derwent caught trout

Georgia gave me trout socks

And I nearly forgot, Georgia, Ella, Jill PD and I  joined the Blue Bottles for a Summer Solstice swim.

I have to say that I revere the Summer Solstice but I am sad that the mornings will start later.  I have been waking at about 5.30am, catching birdsong, basking in the rays of the rising sun and spending till about 7.30am floating in reverie.