A is also for Adelaide, but not many Adventures this time

Being a woman of few ambitions, I set out to Adelaide with 3 things on my to do list:  visit the house in Bordertown where Bob Hawke was born; visit the motorbike sculpture in Strathalbyn; and buy gabion cages at Stratco.  I achieved none.  I did see this banner in Bordertown when I stopped to get petrol.  Bob Hawke's house is now the Centrelink office, so no wonder I couldn't find it.

I didn't get into the city until Friday to pick up my Seniorella bus ticket.  The Adelaide Arcade was fetchingly and appropriately decorated with umbrellas, rain being the main theme of this trip.

This visit the glassed over staircase to the former Tea Rooms had, to my way of thinking, a vaguely menacing display.

I'd had some excitement while waiting for the ferry in Devonport.  My friend Jools, with whom I shared a house when I first arrived in Tasmania in the 1970s, messaged me to say she was flying to Adelaide and could I suggest somewhere to stay.  Of all my suggestions, she preferred to stay with Pearl Girl and so, on the following Monday, we met at the King's Head in King William Street for lunch.  The place was much quieter and the menu less lavish than the time the Easterers visited.  Jools had fish and chips, and we all shared her chips and 3 tapas style serves, the only one of which I can remember is the twice-cooked pork.  I think we also had whitebait.

Thoroughly enjoyable but my shy friends declined to be in the photo.

I went to the Central Market three times, once for a look-see, once to meet Prue and once to lunch with H Bells, Willowa Wisp, Tamasinky and a fresh-faced uni student called Andrew.  For some reason I have always overlooked Cumbia but, perhaps I was missing Zumba, and it jumped out at me this time and I have resolved to eat there next time.

Unfortunately I was unable to go ommmmming with the Floosie because the yoga classes are booked out.  Boo hiss.  But I did motor to her Encounter Bay estate for morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, and a glass of bubbly at The Strand Hotel in Port Elliot, a favourite haunt of the Easterers and one where we have our favourite table.  I announced this fact as we entered the hotel and the couple sitting at the table kindly got up and moved to another table...

Perhaps the sugar hit made me appear belligerent.  I am rather fond of the Floosie's hospitality.  There were eccles too.

I felt rather sad when I discovered that Lady Jayne's Vale Park chateau has been demolished.  Like the historic home it was in our lives, it remained totally unchanged from the 70s.  Now just an empty block.  Though I must admit the visibility on that corner is considerably improved - I once nearly ran over the postie on a scooter there.  I was mollified when I saw the house pictured below being built on an adjacent street.  A nod to the California Bungalow style, I thought.

However the proportions are a bit different 100 years on.

Incredible.

I did a lot of walking around Klemzig.  I rather like wandering around with an umbrella and Mum reminded me that the umbrella I had chosen was one I had brought back from Viet Nam for her.

To my astonishment I discovered the Sicilia Club on the OG Road, a road I've driven along hundreds of times.  I also discovered a Sri Lankan food shop with short eats and take away curries, finally fixing my rice and curry craving.

Some Sicilian looking lemons.  Willowa brought them home after her weekend biking at Melrose.  They look rather spiffing in the blue glass bowl I found while tidying Mum's cupboards.  I remember this bowl from my childhood.  Willowa is planning to make lemon curd.  Willowa has also acquired a beautiful greyhound called Daphne who goes everywhere with her, including to work.  A very lucky dog.  I tried to take some photos but she either wasn't around that much or came out invisible - a trick of black dogs.

There were, of course, library books.

This usable idea for our back garden came from a book on Japanese gardens.

This is not a health warning for older Australians but a book I intend to pursue when my garden provides excess to requirements.

This book I love, and so do 28 other Tasmanians who also have put a hold on it at the library.

Part of the preface - I always apppreciate an acknowledgement of future elders.

Found another photo of 19 year old Dad and his brother, George.

I was lucky that the South Australian Living Artists (SALA) Festival was on and there were some local events I could trot to with my umbrella.  Steve went to lessons at this studio when we lived in Klemzig.  The work on display was beautifully varied and well priced.  The potters were at work so you could chat to the makers.  My Sri Lankan food bar is just around the corner.

I got this book from the Lochiel Park book cupboard.  I've read it before but learned so much more this time. Having also read The Handmaid's Tale recently, I found it particularly chilling that A Thousand Splendid Suns (a reference to a poet's name for Kabul) and The Handmaid's Tale both end optimistically, and look what is now happening in Kabul.

Another SALA event I visited was an art exhbition at Lochiel Park.  How lovely to be able to stroll through the rain, cross the river and get to Lochend House.  I hadn't realised that the time I'd chosen was the time of the exhibition opening.  The place was packed and it was hard to see the work.  Very mixed media.

This piece caught my eye

Here's a small but beautiful sculpture made from waste materials.

One walk revealed that Iris's Cottage was up for auction.  Iris went to school with H Bells and it's a long time since she has owned the cottage but she was the one who renovated it.  A subsequent owner subdivided the block and the property has obviously been tidied for the auction so it looks, to me, much too neat.

However it sold at auction and 2 real estate children looked up briefly from their mobile phones to tell me that I couldn't look inside.

And here's a gushing River Torrens thanks to all that rain.  So lovely to hear the sound of babbling water as I walked the linear park track.


Yes, I did spend time with Mum.  Mostly she sat in her torture chair while I moved from room to room re-organising cupboards.  We went to Mercato for lunch once, and delicious it was too.

A is for Art

Last night was the launch of the Steve's 2020 Calendar and the Opening of the exhibition of the calendar pictures and some recent works which do not feature sheds.  I was tasked with bringing Jill and a corkscrew.  Upon my arrival I was mobbed by people desperate for a glass of red.   Apparently I was the only person who could operate the corkscrew.  Sadly the demands of opening bottles and holding Jill through the speeches made me totally forget I was the photographer too, so I have no record of those august events.  The Exhibition was opened by Steve's friend David.  They went to Primary School together and Dave is possibly the only person extant who has known Steve for this length of time.

Here we have Nephew Kyrle, Steve and his muse Jill overseeing sales.

Gratuitous Cousin Kyrle photo for Georgia

We were blessed by the full moon.

I got caught in conversation with a newby to Tribes so didn't get to do much camera roving even after I'd remembered my responsibilities.  Most of the photos are taken from the same spot.

After the show is over, Leni and Mel get down to the real reason they're there.

Cleaning up.

I apologise for this brief coverage but it's the best I could do.

Mum's side

I don't have many photos from my Mum's early days:

Mum and her Mum shopping in Hayes, late 1920s / early 1930s.

Mum and her Mum and Dad on holiday in Weymouth.

And for those in the know about the tarton trews...

Taken after we'd been mackeral fishing in Cornwall.  This is when I discovered that I love wild seas, and that Mum and Helly get seasick. Perhaps I'd found an affinity with fishing towns.

Off to be with Mum tomorrow for three weeks or so.  Maybe I'll find more old photos.

The Dirty Half Dozen

There is a small detour I can do enroute to the Gatehouse, and I usually do so at the weekend.

I can stand on a small wooden bridge and look out to the harbour.  If the tide is low, I can hear the water murmuring as it flows in from Maclaine's Rivulet.

If I look the other way, inland, this is what I see.  It is a lovely little retreat from the town.  Unfortunately rubbish, particularly from the school, blows into this area so I put out a call to the Friends of Triabunna Reserves (FoTR) to see if anyone would like to help me clean it up.  I knew it would involve wading in the creek and I didn't want to get bogged with no-one around.

The turn up was great and the job was done in less than an hour.  Six of us participated.  We only have 9 members and 2 were at work.

There really are some good people out there.

the tangled web of domesticity

Saturday dawned cold and windy with snowfalls in the central highlands, so Steve decided he'd drive to Launceston to watch the Hawkes / Freo game.

Wearing his vintage Freo Beanie, he joined the the other Dockers' supporters (both of them) but  to no avail

despite his mysterious friend.

I bunkered down at home and had a delightful day doing hardly anything at all, apart from noticing some domestic details.

brush from Sandrine, seahorse from Bellerive, soap from Pearl

Continuing the peruse of details on wintry Sunday, I noticed the extractor fan in the kitchen.  I guess it's been there since we moved in but I don't use it so I haven't really paid it attention.  When I did, I was mortified.  And when I removed it from the ceiling, I felt ill.  I spent the day cleaning it and realised that what I thought was shadow in the ceiling is actually dirt.  So I am gradually cleaning the ceiling.  I also did the washing.  I needed a bath after my Michaelangelo-esque exertions, and washed my hair.  Then I realised I hadn't brought in the washing so had to go out in the gale with wet hair which was immediately fluffed and straightened.  It was time to phone Mum, which I did.  She wasn't sure what she was going to have for tea so Steve helpfully suggested she order a pizza.  Mum was taken with the idea but had no idea how to do it, so Steve ordered and paid for a Domino's pizza from Gilles Plains.  Steve then got a call from the very diligent pizza delivery man to say he was knocking on Mum's door but getting no response.  I phoned Mum who was diligently listening out while watching the rugby.  I got her to answer the door and we had a 4-way conversation.  And just as we were all saying our goodbyes, Steve and I facing each other, I heard Mum say 'Oh here comes Tamasin with fish and chips'.

more family

Indulge me, as I am indulging myself.

Here's Grandma and Grandpa Cox at their house in the Rhondda, 1930

Here they are on a picnic with four of their nine children, 1930

Uncle George, Dad and the lovely Nell, still living in the Rhondda, 1937

By chance I have found a notebook while doing a bit of tidying up, and it has a note I made when in St Davids with Mum in 2010:

The story goes that one year there was nowhere for my parents to stay in St Davids so
Grandpa Cox asked his cousin, Bryn, to help.  Bryn arranged with Phyllis Morgan for Mum and Dad to stay with them at Heol Dewi.  When Mrs Morgan opened the door, my Mum felt forboding at the dark, prim woman who stood before them.  However, they ended up staying with the Morgans many times.  

Shortly after I was born, Mum took me to show Phyllis who by now had a brood of her own.  Phyllis' children gathered round to look at me and wondered how old I was.  'Is she nought?' one asked.

Phyllis is now in a nursing home.  Her daughter, Kate, still lives in St Davids and her son, George, lives at 1 Nodfa Dewi where my grandparents lived.

1 Nodfa Dewi: Grandpa, Grandma and Cousin Stephen's Mum, Mary.

1959

I was delighted to find this photo.  In the London area now at my Aunt Lil's pub, 1969.  I remember going there as a child.  We had to go under the bar to get to their living room at the back.

And here is the man who gave me these photos, Cousin Stephen strolling with my Dad, 1986.

Welsh days

It is, of course, NAIDOC week and the flag is flying proud over our garden fence at the council offices.  I can't say there's much other evidence locally.  It is lovely hearing different Aboriginal languages on ABC Classic, and we did go to see The Merindas at Spring Bay Mill Sunday before last.  Great to see young Aboriginal women who do not take themselves too seriously but are very serious about their culture and language.

The connection between Aboriginal people and the Welsh, in my mind, is that both have been badly affected by colonialism and both are fighting back.  I have been concentrating on the Welsh bit being blessed living in Glamorgan Spring Bay.  On Tuesday we did a Road Trip to Swansea.  This is always a beautiful drive, but even better when someone else is driving, in this case, His Majesty, husband of Her Majesty, the Sun Queen.  His Majesty drives the community bus but had a day off on Tuesday so took we three old ladies out to keep in practice.  Mrs O Henry had a doctor's appointment to attend in Swansea so we skipped Zumba and thus managed to have lunch out.  The waitress told us that there was a whale in the bay.  I took this to mean that the food wasn't very good so better to be distracted looking out the window.  I was wrong.  My scallop and prawn linguine was excellent and I celebrated with a Craigie Knowe riesling.  We didn't see the whale.

In looking for a memory stick to work on Steve's 2020 calendar, I looked through some USBs that have been puzzling me for a while but didn't get around to looking at.  What a treat I found!  I spent yesterday evening looking at photos, many of which I don't remember seeing before.  They are all thanks to my cousin Stephen in Abergavenny.

Here's my Dad with his father and brother.  Dad's last day in the mine, 12 August 1936.

Then he was off to England where, many years later, he met and married my Mum.

Dad with his Dad.  Mum with her Mum. 1946

After moving to St Davids and living in a somewhat primitive cottage, Grandma and Grandpa Cox were finally allocated new public housing.  This is the cottage we visited as children and played on that lovely curved wall which Grandma eventually covered in shells. 1959.

And here they are in their garden. 1963