intermission

how to clean a bugle

today is April 25th,

the day on which the Last Post is blown all over the country

as Australia pauses for silence to remember 

those who gave their lives in service of the country. 

wars fill me with horror.

my great-grandfather died on December 10, 1914.

it was the day after my grandfather's birthday

but when i rustled up our bugle this morning

thinking i might let loose a mournful note in memory

it was filthy and housing a number of unfriendly arachnids

clearly something had to be done

 

now the bugle is nice and shiny

thanks to the helpful acidity of the eucalyptus leaves

 i have a wrap i can hide in

 become a stone among trees

and the bugle yields a much more beautiful note

[Kowhai doesn't care she's too busy digging]

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

 Laurence Binyon

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and in the remembering, bear in mind

the words of another poet, Charles Causley

who wrote

O war is a casual mistress
And the world is her double bed.
She has a few charms in her mechanised arms
But you wake up and find yourself dead.

                             (‘A Ballad For Katharine Of Aragon’)

packing for the pond hop

 

i am supposed to be packing for the pond hop

but have been momentarily diverted, thanks to my new friend Jane Flower

who not only organised a wonderful workshop in the west

but kindly took the time to teach me a book structure i was curious about

i'm thinking i might make one for the Haystack auction

[lucky me, i'm attending session 2 there as a student this year]

i rather like this binding

it's addictive

and you can keep going for as long as you want

except that i had better get back to packing

speaking of which

thanks to those unspeakable cowards who misused perfectly good pressure cookers last week

my travelling dyepots [of the plug in kind]

are retiring.

i have no wish for cross-examinations by airport security.

[they take excessive interest in my luggage as it is and they can get very cross]

so i'm thinking of bringing this little chap out of hibernation

he runs on methylated spirits

and

provided i let the flame burn out to the very end

and pack each of the components separately in my back pack

[so i can explain, rather than having my suitcase torn apart]

it won't pose a risk

and now to re-home those spiders...

+

and in the good old days, i might have taken one of these

woolmarks

 it was a bit sad

bumping out 'muddy waters'

fortunately i had other work to do

eucalyptus magic

never fails to delight

a special 'botanical alchemy' event

those of my readers who have met me

will know that cooking is a passion of mine

alongside my more public pursuits

so when an email came out of the blue

enquiring whether i would like to give a class

at gorgeous Glenmore House in NSW

[on the edge of Sydney]

 famed for kitchen gardening and seasonal cooking days

and for fabulous lunches prepared by proprietor Mickey Robertson

i was delighted and said YES please

[especially as, serendipitously, i was planning to be in the region in any event

to meet with my publisher, on the way home from Queensland]

in this one-day retreat

we shall be dyeing soft wool travel wraps

with leaves from the property

and making a lovely Tsunobukuro bag in which to keep them

while Mickey cooks us a delicious lunch 

please click here for the link to the booking form 

and if you are wondering what's on the plate in the picture

it was today's breakfast

toasted spelt bread

piled with a mix of yoghurt, spring onion, basil, dill, danish fetta

garnished with tiny slices of fresh chili

and more dill.

yum.

  

earth matters

driving to Murray Bridge yesterday to pack up my exhibition 

took me along one of my favourite local roads

first there's a bit where the eastern escarpment of Mount Lofty Ranges drops away 

into what locals call "the flats"

where looking into the opaline heart of the continent brings to mind that line from Dorothea Mackellar's poem My Country 

impossible to photograph as the camera gives it a one-eyed squint 

that simply doesn't capture the grandeur

it's the kind of landscape that is best drawn or painted

so i can't really show you the big picture

on the other hand i can show details.

 driving along this road should take about 40 minutes

it can take me all day

later, heading back up into the ranges

i stopped for a closer look at a new cutting

and found

contemporary petroglyphs

at last

at long last

in this dusty corner of

the driest state

on the driest continent

it is raining. not much

but enough to lift the spirits

housekeeping becomes a challenge for small arachnids

the resident goose is happy again

me too, i'm having raspberry lassie for breakfast

 

 the whirled is bedecked in moonstones

[my favourite gem]

 

all Sam wants is a lap

unfortunately for him, Felix is firmly in possession

pigtures

it's quite exhausting

having to help with the bundling

sometimes

a pig just has to get away from it all

and have a good wallow

 

red work book

tucked in between the windowed envelopes

in the pile of mail that awaited my return from the West

was my Red Work Book

made on the spur of the moment

when Moleskine and Milk offered a 'special'.

now i wish i had ordered more than one copy

because it turned out beautifully

and would have been good to have on hand

as a giveaway to nice folks

next time...

from here you can see Afrika

when my chillun were small

this phrase was their indication of distance

...'from here you can see Afrika'
[usually announced from the top of the willow tree]

i've been in the Far West

where [if you eat enough carrots and can see around the curve of the earth]

that might even be true

it was a splendid few days

with a delightful fire to heat the dyes

and plenty of leaves for gathering

Jane Flower [an excellent organiser!] found me a wonderful place to stay,

organised a selection of lovely fabrics for students

[all the way from Beautiful Silks]

and

we were fed royally at lunch by Karen

the sunsets were fabulous

and the magpies serenaded me every morning

dashing back to Perth airport today

[after giving a talk and demonstration for the Bunbury Felters]

i stopped to fill up with petrol

weary and well content with my week

but

not quite as tired as this mouse