Adelaide delights

because I like to be close to caravans...

the wetland installed at Lochiel Park housing estate over the Torrens from Mum's

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a bit of garden design I find inspiring

I was early for a lunch date with Willowa so I sauntered through town, noticing details I've just hurried by in the past.  I was surprised to see these figures sitting on the balcony of the Adelaide Arcade.  In truth, I'd never noticed the balcony before.

The leafy figure outside The Hilton made me realise these are arty autumnal installations.  I spotted a number of them around town.  Good fun.

A day with The Floosie, who'd baked me a cake.  One of those delicious moist almondy cakes made from boiling mandarines.  Ever style conscious, I nonchalantly scattered a few rose petals around.  A couple managed  to land on the cake.

notice my new look: crocs and socks

We took a garden walk then a stroll around the wetlands at the end of the road, mulling over which would be the best feature tree for the Floosie's re-imagined front garden.  In my mind I looked like this .

Dream on.

Easter calls

so it's off to the harvesting vineyard to get Mum's wine.

Leaving for my other home today.

And anticipating pleasure.  Back in May!!!

Autumn in a place starting with T

Thank you Pearl for the inspiration for the title!

A week ago

Yesterday morning - the house opposite

Yesterday morning - from the Gatehouse

Yesterday morning - walking home from the Gatehouse

Yesterday morning - the house opposite a bit later

one pear tree

the other pear tree

nextdoors' pumpkins

sweet inspiration

A while ago The Floosie sent me the book Writers' Gardens.  I read it cover to cover then loaned it to a friend who returned it recently.  Perusing it again I was struck by this photo of Beatrix Potter's garden, firstly for its inherent beauty but secondly because of the watering can on the extreme bottom right.  Aha, I thought, now I know how the broken watering can from Wentworth and the rabbit from Steve's Mum Mel come together.

Et voila.  Whether Beatrix' dog also ate the sheep poo in a new garden bed doesn't seem to be documented.

This birthday, The Floosie sent me this book.  And two nights ago, in the middle of the night, aha!

I know what to do with that rusty container we acquired with the house.

Domestica

I've just watched the AFLW final.  Adelaide won, which is great, but I who am not the least bit interested in sport, feel such joy when these women play.  And such relief.  It is as if generations of suppressed rage at abilities never allowed to blossom and pent up energy are finally finding release.  Generations of waste.  This is a theme never far from my mind but I've read two novels recently which capture that frustration perfectly.

The Loving Spirit was Daphne du Maurier's first published novel.  It is not her writing at its most fluid but it covers themes close to her heart, and the expected role of a woman in 19th Century England is one of them.

This one looks like a bodice ripper and it is in that the protagonist wants to determine her own life and break from the confines  of the expected feminine role, in 19th C Australia this time.  Had the book not been recommended to me (and been written by the author of The Dressmaker) I would not have picked it up.  Perhaps a case of a book cover being too clever.  It is one of the very few books that has made me laugh out loud recently, but always there is a disturbing undercurrent of frustration.  The ending at one level is disappointing but is probably as good as it could be under the circumstances.

On my domestic front

Steve sketched our living room yesterday

while I pranced off to a party and wasted nothing.

cast low

Being 66 was looking pretty good as I joined the Seniors' Bus Trip to the Female Factory in South Hobart.  I had never been there before.

Mt Wellington / kunyani looms behind.

Here's part of my gang engrossed in the drama.  The rest of us were in the solitary cells producing oakum from old rope.  Reduce, re-use, recycle.

The play was cleverly written by the two actors.  Of course, it was much grimmer back in the day for, where there is now airy open space, there were two-storey walls where you see the linear paving.  There is no suggestion that cradles were made of metal but it was certainly grim with 100 babies in the nursery but little sound because they were too weak to cry.  Many died.  After a short time for weaning, the mothers were put in solitary cells for 6 months to punish them for becoming pregnant.  The surviving babies were sent to the orphan school.

Such deplorable history didn't spoil our appetite and we were whisked away to the Casino (!!!!!!) for lunch.

I haven't been there for about 30 years.  Back in my day, we would have work dinners then kick on at the Casino disco.  More history.  All this for $35!  I was basking in my seniority until I managed to develop a cold on the bus on the way home to the sunny East Coast.

Happy Birthday to me

Despite my vast experience of them, I still love having a birthday.  Mrs O Henry gave me flowers from her garden.

The Floosie sent me this lovely book.  In a similar vein, Her Majesty the Sun Queen gave me an empty bottle so I can make another watering can.  My friends know me so well!  There was also a huge roast cooked by Steve, and a Coco chocolate bunny from Lady Jayne - but I ate them.