Maggie Cool

Back in June I booked a hotel room in St Marys so that I could be at their Winter Solstice Festival.  Sadly I was ill and had to postpone my stay.  So I rebooked for Tuesday and set off along the Midland Highway.  To be honest, the Midland Highway was sort of the destination.  I had driven it many times from Campbell Town to Devonport to catch the ferry but hadn't driven Hobart to Campbell Town for years, and had always wanted to take the turnoff to St Mary's and the East Coast.

It was all a delight.  Mangalore had even more heritage houses than I remembered.  Kempton feels like a village in its own right.

You can always tell you're getting close to Oatlands by the steel sculptures on the hills.

It's also a town of hedges and topiary.

I was rather taken with this garden design centre.

And gorgeous whimsy.

Next stop Campbell Town for lunch.

delicious Cornish pasty and French vanilla slice

Didn't dally because I was 'doing' Campbell Town on the way back.  And so to the Esk Highway.  This is a really beautiful drive.  Dabs of wattle yellow, then ribbons of what I'm pretty sure are Blackwoods in flower along the roadside, river and railway track.

proof  that Wheatbelt Victoria is not the only place with painted silos

Although this is actually a water tower...

The town of Avoca looked architecturally interesting but Fingal seemed post-apocalyptic.  The countryside continued brilliant green and increasingly dotted with black cattle.

small church on approach to St Marys

lovely leadlight in St Marys Hotel

cute little room

I arrived at about 3pm in pouring rain and wondered what to do with myself.  I had seen a sign to Cornwell and a Miners' Memorial Wall so drove back to take a look.

The Wall is not a thing of beauty but the lists of miners' names and the history are well done.  I thought about my Dad going underground for coal in the Rhondda in Wales from the age of 14 to 19 years.  And also the sad lives of the pit ponies there.  The Tasmanian Cornwell ponies seem to have had a much better life.

Adjacent to the Miners' Memorial is a memorial park and garden dedicated to local soldiers in the First World War.  I followed the perimeter path, each plant in memory of a soldier.  About halfway around is this poem (I think, with a spelling mistake) which tells of a real love for this place.  Cornwall did remind me of the Rhondda - cottages clinging to the hillside - and you can see that it is raining!

I had a good meal at the pub and was delighted to find magazines in the guests' common room so spent a heavenly evening.  I got up much earlier than planned the next morning and took a stroll along St Marys rivulet on the Wombat Walk.  Then I drove the Elephant Pass Road to Chain of Lagoons on the East Coast.  I was concerned that, driving East in the early morning, the sun would be in my eyes but the tall trees made dappled light and red-breasted wrens and fairy wrens danced before me.  From Chain of Lagoons it was North on the Tasman Highway to the St Marys turnoff just before Falmouth.  Pranksters have had fun with the road signs:  Long Vehicles Sound Horny;  You are now entering St Marys ass.  Oh dear.

Back in St Marys before 10am, I waited for the shops to open. I chose to breakfast at The Purple Possum.  This is a magnificent shop, stocking the raw foods that I love, Turkish Delight and an eclectic mix of clothes, homewares and souvenirs.  I bought a veggie scrubbing brush and a teatowel as well as edibles.  The owner has run the shop for 28 years and does all the buying herself, guided by what she loves.  Bellerive Village would be perfection with such a shop.

Homeward bound, yesterday's sheep seemed to have lambed overnight and the paddocks played host to little gangs of gangly, scheming lambs.  Stopped in a cold and windy Campbell Town for a much anticipated 'good look around'.  But it was very disappointing.  Lake Leather had beautiful shoes and bags as always, but there were scant other interesting shops, with many galleries closed permanently.  Oatlands definitely has the edge at the moment.

view from the bridge - Red Bridge at Campbell Town

Home to Bellerive, then take Sarah home to South Hobart where she and Jilly Pup said lingering goodbyes.  Sarah and Jill have a deep bond, which is very handy if I need a dog sitter!  I was very pleased with my road trip and realised that I am very much a small country town woman - St Marys teemed with grey haired women wearing boots and baggy jeans just like me.  But how I love being back in Bellerive.

Why Maggie Cool?

I think I look pretty cool in my driving glasses.

[However I felt pretty stupid when I started Wordle and Connections after taking the photo and realised, after a while, that I hadn't gone blind overnight.  I was still wearing the distance driving glasses not my reading glasses...]

time on my hands

Got up bright and early, bought croissants and got ready to go to Reece Plumbing under plumber's orders to get a pedestal mixer and bottle trap.  Fortunately checked online and discovered the place doesn't open on Sundays.  So a brief update.

The first part of the bathroom plan is to replace this

with this.

Georgia made the basin and the guy who did my front fence made the stand.  I shall report when it's mission accomplished.

My next blog post was going to be to recommend these two books, so here they are.

This is clearly written and contains top information on the neurological structure and function of the brain, and a plan to get / keep your brain in tip top form.

I'm a great believer in the wisdom of indigenous culture and a great wisher that Western 'civilisation' would embrace it, so this is the book for me.  Both are library books.

Around the house:

yesterday I awoke to a rainbow in the bedroom window

looking at my back door

blossoming house warming present from the Floosie

Over and out.  Listening to the Floosie on Fleurieu FM

starlight, star bright

I've been getting the guilts about not blogging.  I don't seem to have any coherent stories to tell.  Getting the washing in, I looked for the first star as I do every night, and there it was in conversation with the moon.  A sign!  So I'm having a go.
 

I often blog during the Floosie's Fleurieu FM radio show but today I procrastinated and practised calligraphy while listening.  Tomorrow is the final class for this term.  As you can see, I've still got a long way to go but I think I  may have come as far as I want to go.  There are just so many other things to do.

There had been a discussion at calligraphy about making ochre ink and that you can find ochre on Penna Beach.  So Jilly and I investigated.  Maybe someone was trying out the ochre shades on this log?  Having no idea what ochre looks like on a beach we aborted the search and otherwise amused ourselves.

I am easily amused

Jill is more circumspect

Good interpretation signs:

though, sorry, the print is not coming through very clearly!  You'll just have to come and see for yourself.

The adjacent dog park was a bit of an education.  The Penna Landcare group was out and about planting more trees.

They are responsible for what I had at first thought was a sculpture

but later realised is a very clever way of recycling the nutrients from a dead tree.  I have never seen this done before, and get very annoyed when people think the sole use of a dead tree is firewood for humans.

From Bellerive Beach we had the excitement of this huge ship

being anchored for days.

It was here to pick up InCat's electric ferry which is bound for South America.  Once  loaded, it had to wait a few more days for wave and weather conditions to be safe for the long haul.

Keeping it nautical,

my friend, Pat, completed this jigsaw.  I had bought it many years ago while in an independent bookshop in Tanunda.  I have never liked doing jigsaws but rather fancied the bookshop owner and loved the waves and message.  Plus it's important to support the indies.

and then Pat broke it all up and put it in its jaunty bag

Since we are now back home, let me show you my playroom:

I had been calling it my studio, but one day the memory of being a child and going nextdoor to play with Momery Twigg (now Rosa Norte) came to me.  Mrs Trigg always invited us to play in The Playroom which was actually a conservatory, a lovely light filled space.  Mrs Trigg was a wonderful dressmaker.  She gave us old Vogue, McCalls, etc pattern books to cut up for paper dolls, and we would loll on the floor and live sophisticated lives.

The only other things I have to report are my cooking,

I made the pastry...

sunny days - I made the pumpkin soup -

and signs of Spring.