Pleasure

You may recall I mentioned Tamasin's birthday.  I didn't go to her party in Adelaide and look what I missed.

cake by Willowa, the Cake Queen

feast by Tamasin and friends

Reading this book was some consolation.  It's quirky and in some ways doesn't make much sense but I like the idea of a detective who tracks down the meals and flavours from our past that still haunt us.

This turned out to be the best book I've read in a long time.  Admittedly I read it in translation but is so simply written and consists of 2 stories 100 years apart.   Of course it helps that it is about a dog and it's in rural France.  The story set in 2017 explores themes close to my heart.  The story set in a small village during the First World War is gripping and for the first time made me realise how difficult it was for women to take over the farm work when their men went off to war.  It hadn't occurred to me that farming implements were designed to fit and suit men's bodies.  This made their use by women extra difficult and, of course, they still had all the domestic and caring duties they had before the war.  There's a lot to think about in both stories.

Here's Jill PD on Pat's new sofa.  I love that Pat, who is 20 years older than me...,  splashed out on the sofa of her dreams.  Steve's Mum always wanted a pink leather couch but would never buy one because it 'wasn't worth it' at her age.  I have to say that, as a dog lover, Pat has covers on hand so that dogs can sit comfortably, thus you don't get to see the full glory of the sofa.  Pat is thrilled with it and feels it is very Noel Coward.  I suggested a grand piano next.

Now a little surprise.  I never thought that going to Breast Screen could be a pleasure but in Rosny it was.

the lovely windows in the waiting room

unnecessary but beautiful detailing

The receptionist was charming and funny, the medico taciturn but calmly professional.  Even the clamping didn't seem so bad.

Oh and, later on, the results were good.

🥐🗼H A P P Y   B A S T I L L E   D A Y🥐🗼

New York New York

I have returned to watching DVDs to stop myself wolfing data.  Breakfast at Tiffany's was one of them.  It is pleasant to watch until the final scenes when our Miss Golightly is bullied by the love of a man.  So I thought it was time to re-read my beautiful Folio edition of Truman Capote's novella.  So much fun, and so liberating.  The song Moon River really captures its essence.  Holly Golightly has her own morality and turn of phrase.  I loved this:

Look at Mag Wildwood.  Or Honey Tucker.  Or Rose Ellen Ward.  They've had the old clap-yo'-hands so many times it amounts to applause.

It makes me  laugh every time I remember it.  I seem to be on a theme here.  The medication for my bronchitis:

Never on Sunday!

And leaving sex work but returning to New York, I am now a Wordle and Connections addict.  Thank you New York Times for providing these free games daily.  Get up, make coffee, curl up on the couch and Wordle away.  I don't always agree that the answers are words - rehab?  morph? emcee? - but I usually get there regardless.  Connections I find more difficult.  It often relies on a knowledge of US foodstuffs, sporting teams and tv shows.  Beats me.

Tribes talk

I went back to Triabunna to look after the dogs for a night.  Georgia was setting up her exhibition at Cradle Mountain.

It was also the  night to celebrate Maria Voices 5th birthday.  A very joyous occasion!

Jilly took this book to read to Billy and Miya.

Exhausting apparently.

I finished off this book.  Deliberately gothic, it is written in the first person by a woman who is a Victorian crime writer in constant conversation with her two main characters.   I found this rather exhausting at first but got the hang of it.  It seems rather fluffy until the nature of the crimes she finds herself actually involved in come to light.  These are amongst the most horrific crimes that I have encountered in fiction.  Patricia Cornwell's Scarpetta books come to mind.  They got to a point where I could no longer read them.

Fortunately I found this old favourite on Georgia's book shelves and regained my equilibrium.  I'm not sure if this is the copy Corinne gave me years ago.  It was confronting at the time to us career girls  of the 1970s.  It is vibrant and beautiful but not a lifestyle for me.  I realise that now I live a life of gentle domesticity - but without the cluttering creativity!

The day I got back to Bellerive was a big news day:  Ella has signed for her first ever flat, and Willowa won the 40km Pichi Richi Marathon.  And the next day was Tamasin's birthday.

Bertie and the birthday fairisle scarf.

Bijou Residence

Somewhere in this book a contented Phryne Fisher makes reference to her  'bijou residence'.  It immediately struck a chord.  A home where everything is a treasure, a gift, a memory.  A feeling of ease and completion.  And that's what I have.

I'm not pretending these chaps are part of my world but there is a man who cycles past in the mornings and evenings, probably to and fro the ferry.  Unlike the racy types who hurtle by, he sits upright and peddles rhythmically.  I can imagine onions hanging from the handlebars.  Something Gallic about him.

Starting with this just over a year ago, I now have everything I want.*

There have been incremental changes that perhaps only I can see.

Bronchitis / pneumonia has laid me low for over a week now and I have had plenty of time to savour mes bijoux.

I have spent a lot of time on the 'was to be discarded' blue couch:  reading,

looking behind to the kitchen,

looking to the side

and looking ahead

These small joys have been around for a long time:

a plate Helly gave me years ago

a summer cocktail in the solarium

relaxing in the solarium

a Georgia bowl and grapes from her garden

cooking Judy's quinces

Secret night time treasures too.

Very happy.

* well, Georgia's basin is still awaiting its stand in the bathroom...

when I'm not panicking

I have a lovely time.  I bought Sally Beeches Black Cockatoos at the School House Gallery Exhibition and it is now hanging in my house.

Jill PD really enjoys exploring the walk from the gallery across what used to be Rosny Golf Links.  The Kangaroo Rivulet still runs through here.

Crossing Gordon's Hill Road, the rivulet continues.  Who knew?

Amazing to think this little bit of wildness is bordered by highways and dense housing.

I have also been beguiled by the Sorell History Rooms.

Beautiful uncluttered spaces with sleek, crafted storage.  Perfect.

And in the Sorell Memorial building too.  I have wondered about the future of this art deco treasure as houses from this era are being demolished for unit developments.   I think it's safe.  It also houses the RSL and, on occasions, theatrical productions.

I went to a matinee performance and thoroughly enjoyed it.  There is a bar for drinks and snacks but you can take your own food in too.  Seating is at tables and I was lucky to be on a table with 2 other women attending on their own.  We got on famously and discovered we had 2 cast members with us too.  Turns out they were the detective and offsider so we felt quite safe.

The Reconciliation event at the Triabunna Tivoli saw us back in Tribes.

we were smoked

we were serenaded with a clever arrangement of From Little Things Big Things Grow

and then there was the movie

The film was much better than I had expected and promoted outback Australia beautifully.  Deborah Mailman wore some amazing dresses incidentally. 

Jilly PD had a short stay in Triabunna so that I could pursue book printing enquiries in Hobart.  It was a pleasure to catch the ferry into the city.  Hobart is awash in red and black for Dark Mofo.

you know you've made it when the CWA cowtows

Closer to home there have been some interesting moments on Bellerive Beach

sails are not that uncommon

Spirit of Hobart very close to shore

but many of us were perplexed by this guy

So now I'm listening to the Floosie's Fleurieu FM streamed radio show.  She's just playing Tom Jones for me...  I've just returned from my first aerial yoga class and I'm totally blissed.

Fall

For some time now I've been planning to regale you (yet again) with pictures of my perfect house inside and out.  So here's my 2026 autumn outlook:

From my driveway, the road leading to the cliff top.  When I lived here before, the white houses didn't exist and only the large red roofed Wentworth House was visible.  I quite like the white houses.  They look a bit Welsh to me and are occupied by the son and daughter of the owner of Wentworth House, almost a hamlet.  Note trees in autumn splendour.

Looking down the street, the beautiful crab apples.  I was rather taken aback a couple of days later when the house owner came out and chopped off all the russety gold leaves.

and from my garden

So you can understand my horror on waking up on the first day of winter to the sound of chainsaws and the sight of toppling poplars.  I immediately notified Clarence Council and was blithely told that permission for the work had been granted in 2019.  So there.

I had to admit that it looked quite entrancing by moonlight

As perhaps did I.  Later in the week I got to talk with the landscaper, Alison herself from https://alisonsgarden.com.au/ .  The poplars (Lombardy - a weed apparently) are to be replaced with tulip trees which have a similar form and tulip shaped flowers.  They haven't got to the planting yet.  I shall keep you informed.