Tassie Idyll

Went South for the weekend to Abels Bay.  The weather was windy and showery which gave the Green Bean and me the perfect excuse to read magazines and swap gardening ideas.  It also gave GB plenty of time to cook (though she has that down to a fine art) and we ate most royally, including venison on Saturday night (with a mushroom risotto, of course).  Next time I shall photograph each meal - if I remember.

We did venture out on the Saturday and made another visit to the wonderful Woodbridge Nursery.  We didn't buy any of these sedums.  The photo was supposed to capture the raindrops reposing in and on the leaves like sparkling diamonds and lenses.  I did buy a tree-dahlia. GB finally got her hands on the Bishop of Llandaff, a dahlia she'd been after for some time.  We drove through clouds of wattle to another nursery, River Bend, which is a much smaller venture and only opens on Friday and Saturdays.  A good find for the future.

As you can see from the photos above, the Bean's garden is coming on nicely.

Sunday we had to walk off some of the delicious lunches, mains and desserts, and breakfasts for that matter.  We stepped out to the contentious Eggs and Bacon Bay.  An animal rights group has recently requested that the name be changed to Apple and Cherry Bay.

The rain came in but passed quickly over us as we stood behind this tree.  The goddess was certainly smiling on us.  After our bracing walk, GB whipped up another Michelin 4 star lunch and then I was on my way back to Tribes, after a cup of tea or two.
Monday saw me back on the road, lunching with Madam Cyn this time.  We dined at Maning Reef in Sandy Bay - a gargantuan feed of tempura veg, seafood and sweet potato cake with chips.  We were too stuffed to have summer pudding for dessert.
And here's a cuppla iconic shots for those who know Tassie well:

The Tasman Bridge from Cornelian Bay

The boat sheds at Cornelian Bay.

There was a time when I desperately wanted to own one of those boat sheds.  Now I just want to remember to take photos more often.  Today Jill had a play date with her Big Boy friend, Dexter, and I took not one photo.  Admittedly Dexter's Mum, Dorothy, and I mostly sat inside and had tea and chocolates.

Bits and Pieces

Am writing this hurriedly as I'm off to a Fashion Show in a few minutes!  Will there be photographs?  We'll see.  In the meantime I'll use some photos that have been in waiting for a while.  The name of this post is very annoying and takes me back to a time when I was teaching a Small Print Media subject at the Brighton Municipality's Bridgewater / Gagebrook SkillShare.  We hunted around for a name for our newsletter and someone came up with the name 'The Bright Bridge Gage Book' which I thought was brilliant.  We put it to the vote and 'Bits and Pieces' won by a huge majority.  Which is when I realised I would never make it in politics.  Another insight came when one girl suggested interviewing the chemist.  I thought it was a good idea and asked her why she thought it was important. 'Well, you go to the chemist everyday', she said.  This was the same girl who believed in disciplining children by hitting because it never did her any harm.  I wonder where she is now.

summer socks and foot

finally an hellebore to grace the kitchen window sill

Jill very happy with her gift from Grandma

Jill and her Dad very happy in the early morning sun

first Icelandic poppy and an artist at work

Jill in training for the Tokyo Olympics

marigolds and irises without a dog in training

Also lots of coriander and failed hydrangea cuttings

the side of the studio that hopefully one day will resemble a St Davids hedgerow, polyanthus masquerading as primroses

the movie I saw at the Orford Odeon last Tuesday

$15 purchased entry, glass of cab merlot, Mars Bar and 3 raffle tickets.

our stall at the Village Market last Sunday

not much doing but

And where am I now?  Back from the Fashion Show at Buckland.  Great fun.  Tables groaning with finger food lunch.  Elegant outfits sourced from the Op Shop.  Mortal models who walk among us everyday.  But I wasn't game to take photos.

Buckland bushdance

My yoga and zumba friend, Kay, and I graced the Bush Dance last Saturday.  It was advertised as from 6pm to 9pm so we figured it was a family event and I didn't take my camera though I would have loved to catch some twirling dancers.  As it turned out we were right and ages ranged from 18 months to 82 years so I'm glad I didn't upset anyone by taking photos of children.  The males by and large were under 10 years of age, though some faithful souls to partners who looked  Frankie or Peppermint-esque were in attendance.  The band and caller were great fun and we had a very good time, my partners being mostly Kay and a girl very like our Sarah in her attitude and love for dance.  Compared with Wentworth bring-a-plates, the supper was disappointing.  My only complaint about Wentworth dos was that they were all delicious High Tea hi-carb crustless sandwiches, asparagus rolls, lemon slices, cream puffs, nearly airborne Victoria sponges and Ginger Fluff (and my packet of Tim Tams).  So on Saturday night I took a triple cream brie, boughten beetroot dip and meticulously sliced carrot and celery sticks.  Quelle horreur!  Upon entering the Supper Room, behold piles of carrot sticks though none as finely crafted as mine.  The savouries derived from sheets of frozen pastry and oven-crisped slices of bread.  There were some attractive looking cakes and slices, and lots of Tim Tams.  I would not have been tempted to take a photo of the food.  The table of urns and acres of sturdy white cups and saucers, however, was a thing of classic beauty.  Kay and I each had a bottle of wine in the car but left them there and slaked our great thirsts with tap water.
And neither of our lucky door tickets won the prize:  a bottle of Jansz.

after the race

I'm talking about the Tour de France this time.  It is the only sporting event I watch and Steve and I have had a nightly watching ritual.  But now it is over and last week was back to normal.   My yoga teacher is back so it was yoga, zumba, yoga, school and then on Friday Steve, Jill and I took a trip to Bicheno.

The rocks are wonderful and reminiscent of Port Eliot.  The town does not have the charm of Port Eliot and we chose the trendiest looking cafe on the main road just so we could say we'd given it a go.

It proved to be fabulous.  We had a garlic pizza with a trio of dips.  The pesto was superb.  Just like the pesto I made one year in Wentworth and Bronwyn, Corinne, Heather and I ate one late lunchtime with gnocchi on our terrace overlooking the Lady Bay vineyard.  Magic memories.

More on the Great Race

Mel and Snowy went back to the races on Sunday.  Some kind person shared these photos with Mel.
Firstly me at the start of the race, Jill looking as though she's made for this sort of event.  Which she was for about 40 seconds.

And here's Snowy and Mel coming in to the finish line while Jill and I were out there somewhere rambling.

Snow and Mel became the Novice Champions on Sunday and have a sash, ribbon and hip flask to prove it.

Jill seemed pretty happy with her Sunday too.

Go Snowy

Who is this fine chap in his cardi?  Meet Snowy.  Yesterday Snowy, Mel, Jill and I went sled dog sporting - dog powered sport.  Our gang is all novice so we were put in with the Juniors and Pee Wees.  This is the type of contraption Mel and I had to use:

Here's some of the competition for Snowy and Jill:

I took the photo below to show that it was snowing but it just looks bleak.  Lots of omens here.

Our course involved going around this lake, just under a kilometre.  Jill and I were last to start with Mel and Snowy 30 seconds ahead.  Briefly.  Jill thought it would be much more interesting to have a look at the lake so took the high road and I went over the handlebars to astonished cries from the gallery.  Fortunately the Rescue Vehicle didn't run over me and, after getting re-organised, we resumed the race.  Race doesn't seem to mean much to Jill (which in one sense I'm quite proud of).  I desperately scooted through ankle deep mud while Jill took a delightful botanical stroll, often having to raise a trot to catch up with me.
This is how it's supposed to be done.

Notice Bolt's keen start here.  Of course he has a name to live up to and some rather racy running boots.

This Open Class of race takes you over hill and dale.

But even the beautiful Bolt was not assured of victory, beaten by Abbie to the diehards' complete surprise.  And look at this for perfect form.

I think of Angel and weep.  Many of these dogs are rescued huskies / malamutes.

They're so keen to run that each dog needs someone to restrain him / her while they listen to the start countdown.

This is the sort of racing that appeals to me, sort of Boudica-like.

Imagine the thrill of that.  And no scooting.  Genuine dog-powered.  And the winners?

Well obviously ol' blue eyes, Mikey.  Who is not Lexington nor a rescued dog but an adored little pup out for the day with his Mum and Dad and has to be restrained while they are racing.

Reading weather

On Wednesday I returned my library books and, though I have plenty to read at home at the moment, books tumbled off the shelves and into my arms.  After a brief walk along the beach which is reforming after disappearing in a huge storm, Jill and I returned home very pleased with the books, the beach and the cosy warm.  I spent yesterday curled up with The Paris Vendetta which races from Sweden to Corsica to London and Paris.  It was the perfect Bastille Day read until I heard the news of the Nice attack.
I thought I'd share with you some of my other recent reading.

I read this book years ago and thought of it when Steve was in hospital after the stroke.  I tried desperately to find it but couldn't find any trace of it back then.  It turned up at the Orford Book Sale a few weeks ago - 50c no less.  It was gratifying to re-read it.  One thing I had totally forgotten from the first read was the pleasure he records from driving a mini moke.  And I remembered all the fun we had in mine.
This was the book I took to read in Adelaide.  It also came from the book sale.

Steve and I have been to the Japanese Gardens in Cowra a couple of times.  Despite this book's lurid cover, its an excellent read and I'm keen to return to Cowra sometime with all this new knowledge.  And then there's this one:

Tamasin and I walked over to Lochiel Park late one afternoon.  There's a community book cupboard there where you take a book and leave a book.  I used to read a lot of Japanese authors in the '70s and was excited to read this one (once I'd recovered from the Forced March my Adorable Niece conducted along the Torrens as night fell).  I discovered that Ishiguro was born in Japan and moved to England when he was 6!!! so not a story about Japan at all.  But a poignant English story and one of the best books I've ever read, amazingly constructed, beautifully written and thought provoking.
And for something completely different and very calming, you may like to look at these photos from Georgia's sister in law and family who have recently moved to Sweden.
 http://chelseaparsons.com.au/alg-time-alegenhus-bjurholm-sweden/