Red

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight

I've never seen you shine so bright ...

I'll never forget, the way you look tonight ...

The lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek

My lady in red (I love you.)

Lyrics: Chris de Burgh

Lovely Launceston

The next exciting instalment of our road trip to Tasmania in January 2010.  From Cradle Mountain, we made late start for Launceston in the Tamer Valley. It would have been ideal to have taken longer to explore the little towns along the B12 highway. It's a terrific drive through Mole Creek, Chudleigh and Deloraine, and plenty to see and do. But alas, we were on a tight schedule and could only wave from the car.

Launceston is the second largest city in Tasmania and like many places in Australia, is named after a town in the United Kingdom, in this case, Launceston, Cornwall.  It was first Australian city to have underground sewers, the first Australian city to be lit by hydroelectricity, so they announce proudly, and is the birthplace of Australian cricket captain, Ricky Ponting.  Launceston serves as the commercial hub for the north of Tasmania, and like many parts of the state, is becoming a major tourist centre. I would visit there again in a flash for some peace and quiet.

We stayed at the absolutely di-vine Lido Apartments on Elphin Road, Launceston.  The Lido is a pleasant ten minute walk to the centre of town, past sprawling city parks and streets of Georgian and Victorian architecture. The well-appointed, art deco interior was a sight for sore eyes - space, clean facilities, views, comfort, privacy and a washing machine! 

We strolled down to the City Park which has the cutest playground and a large enclosure for Japanese Macaque monkeys, a gift from sister city Ikeda, Japan.  It also has the most adorable rotunda and a spectacular conservatory.  When I move to my Country House, I am going to install one each of these.

We explored the city centre, including the footwear department of Myer Department Store looking for replacement runners for two children who declared emphatically, then and there, that theirs were too tight for all the walking we were doing (spare me!).  Thus, appropriately shod, and replenished with hot chocolate, we took off for Cataract Gorge, home to the longest single span chairlift in the world and the Alexandra Suspension Bridge. 

I was hanging onto my hat, my heart and my handbag on this chairlift ride.  Yikes, so high and such a ridiculously flimsy contraption to be bobbing along in, over rocks and rushing water, and my little ones were in the chair in front (with Dad).  "Hang on, my loves, be still, don't wriggle, don't lean, don't drop anything.", I'm thinking.  I could hardly take in the scenery, but what I did see, through squinted eyes, was quite spectcular. 

We also visited the Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery at the Inveresk Cultural Precinct, on the grounds of the former railway station and rail yards in buildings largely converted from the former Railway Workshops. The children loved the Phenomena Factory science centre where you can fire your own EX-1 Rocket, challenge yourself in the Perception Tunnel, or test your reactions while you touch, switch, pull and crank your way around.

As is the way with children, however, the most memorable outing was to the Launceston Aquatic Centre.  What a find on a hot Summer's day.  It has it all - Indoor and Outdoor Beach Entry Leisure Pool; Interactive Water Play Are; Indoor 50m Competition Pool; Learn to Swim Pool; Remedial Pool and Spa; Family Friendly Change Facilities; Outdoor 25m Lap Pool with Diving Boards; 65m Waterslide and Barbeque Facilities.   Quite unexpectedly, a huge red bucket in the water play area will tip over and splash its contents over squealing children.  No matter how prepared you think you are for the crash, it always seems to sneak upon you.  The surprise element is exhilarating.  It's a wicked invention.  All credit to the designers.  I love quirky playgrounds.

We were in kiddy heaven and stayed 'til closing time. It is a stunning venue and highly recommended.

That was our action-packed day in Lonny. An impressive place with a very lucky population of only 70,000. 

For more information: http://www.discovertasmania.com/

Mrs Bird's Nest

Seagulls: Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Nigel: Oh would you just shut up? You're rats with wings.”

I think I need a new blog title, although I often feel like a rat with wings. 

Or a lady with a bird in her hair. 
 
Mrs Bird's Nest, as my grandmother used to call a neighbour with unruly locks. 
 
Together with Mrs Dot and Carry One, who walked with a limp (that's a mental arithmetic metaphor) and Mrs Lean Forward, who, well, leant forward. 

These were some of the characters who regularly walked past her house to and from the bus stop or the corner store.  She could see them through the lattice from her staging post on the front verandah. 

But then, funnily enough, she gave her pet canaries sensible names like Henry and Michael.

I wonder what name she would suggest, if she could have fathomed computers at all, living at a time when people wrote letters by hand and phones had dials.
 

Probably, Young Mrs Bird's Nest.

Quote: Finding Nemo
Image1: Tokyo Milk
Image 2: Ruben Toledo

My Country House

I am completely taken with the notion of living in an old farmhouse or country estate or somewhere with vast, lush rolling grounds, ideally a peacock or two, roaming deer, a large wrought iron gate, a circular driveway and stables.

We would have a magnificent garden that I would wander through mid-morning with a clean pair of secateurs and a straw basket collecting roses to bring inside. 

and all sorts of magical things would happen under stairwells, in attics and by the soft glow of table lamps.

Perfect for entertaining.

and keeping hounds.

"Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show

Of touch or marble, nor canst boast a row

Of polished pillars, or a roof of gold;

Thou hast no lantern whereof tales are told,

Or stair, or courts; but stand’st an ancient pile,

And these grudged at, art reverenced the while."

Poem, To Penshurst, by Ben Johnson

'Carn United!!!!

As long as no-one scored, it was always going to be close.

Soccer practice on a green oval. Setting sun. Rising damp.  Must take hand weights and do a few laps around the oval next week and not wear leather boots with heels.  Matches start on Saturday.  Under 10 Girls United and Under 8 Boys Griffins.  Very nice, but I'm not an organised sport person or a team player.  More of an individual medley competitor.  But  here I am team manager twice over.  I must do up rosters and pay referees and be prepared to assist with dressing and un-dressing the pitch.  I shall treat it as an opportunity to get some exercise myself.  I shall.  While inside I'd like to take a foldaway chair, a thermos and the Saturday papers and get lost in my own reverie. 


Illustration by Lauren Nassif

In stitches

Her needlework both plain and ornamental was excellent, and she might have put a sewing machine to shame. ~James Edward Austen-Leigh, about Jane Austen

B-Well Report: On 'yer bike.

It's all part of this well-ness campaign and a pressing need to teach children to ride bikes.  A fine Monday public holiday, a bit of a lie-in, late breakfast, a few loads of washing and we're off to Stromlo Forest Park, a custom-built cycle track for children which hooks up to an international standard mountain bike trail.  It is set in the western edge of Canberra where fires denuded the landscape about eight years ago, so the setting is sparse of trees, but the facilities are excellent and it's perfect for learner riders.

Helmuts clasped on, the girls take off confidently, but Ro-Ro, who unfortunately has a bike one size too small and peddles rather like a circus clown,  is not enthused by this adventure.  At first his hands are sore from the handle bars and then his poor, decrepid, seven-year-old, knees hurt.  This is, of course, a try-on and I can see him thinking that the whole exercise is a monumental hoax. Whoever is going to need to ride a bike when you can be chauffeur driven?  What sort of exercise is this without a ball... or a bat?  Why are we riding about in circles?  This process, I fear, will take some perseverance. 

Go girls! 

Go Ro!

There is also a grassed, one kilometre running track upon which we went for a saunter/jog. There they go!

I took up the rear and did a few slow laps.  Metaphorical stop-watch and whistle at the ready.  A wide grassy expanse, dam in the middle and views of hills and dales in all directions. There's Black Mountain Tower in the distance 

I make a fine coach.

Little Wanna, showing all the signs of becoming a stylish, independent-minded, modern miss, asked, "Is my hair ruined?" as she took off her helmet.  Hmmm.  We may not be collecting many ribbons on sports day I suspect.

Back from the Big Smoke

We are back from our lightning quick trip to Sydney which we still managed to drag out by rushing to witness part of the ANZAC Day march in George Street, zipping through The Powerhouse Museum and detouring on the way home for late afternoon tea in the Southern Highlands town of Berrima.

Charly woke me early for our traditional exploratory walk.  We always slope off together when we are travelling, tip-toeing carefully in the morning darkness so as not to disturb the others, and explore the area around where we are staying.  It was a drizzly morning on Darling Harbour, but we were undeterred.  Restaurant staff were cleaning up from the night before and nightclub patrons at one venue were still raving but otherwise we had the entire harbour to ourselves.  We walked passed the King Street Wharf to the very end of the pedestrian precinct at the Sydney Port Auhority Passenger Terminal.  We ventured a short way along Hickson Road tentatively planning to walk down to Walsh Bay and The Observatory, but the city streets were a bit too desolate and foreboding and the distance, we realistically assessed, was too ambitious, so we backtracked to the hotel and a buffet breakfast.  Thus undoing my efforts to eat well and in moderation.

I was also reminded of the need to stretch and bend more as I sat, like a pudding, in the audience at the Opera House for the The Australian Ballet's performance of The Silver Rose.  Principal Artist, Lucinda Dunn, danced the lead role of The Marschellin, with strength and maturity, but the one who stole the show for me was soloist Ty King-Wall, a New Zealand dancer, who played the role of Octavian, her young lover.  It was a magic performance, with comedic parts involving cross-dressing as the Marschellin's maid, and intensely passionate characterisations of scorned affection and young, true love.  He proved that his technical skills were equalled by his acting ability.   He's my vote for the 2010 Telstra Ballet Dancer Award. 

The rest of our stay, regrettably, confirmed that Sydney would not be my choice of a place to live despite its proximity to the sea, my major longing.  Even the desire to visit is waning.  Its concrete, compactness oppresses me.  The ramshackle shops, blocks of flats, high-rises and houses, the motorways, expressways, tunnels and narrow roads.  There is just not enough green space, or any space.  It's claustrophic. I've come home gasping.

Photos by Charly and The Australian Ballet

Sydney, here we come.

Here is my brood on the platform at Circular Quay Station last time we called on Sydney.  You just can't help loving that view of the Harbour Bridge... and the Opera House... and the whole vista - ferries, Luna Park across the way, the esplanade in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art and the gorgeous green of the Domain and the Gardens.  It all just sits together so well. 

We are off again, more than six months later, for a quick overnight trip for some serious and diverse entertainment involving rugby for the boys and ballet for me. Right now I must pack the bags and fuss over what snacks to take and what activities to arrange for the journey.   This is not my favourite part of travel.  I can get car sick before the journey starts just running around sticking things in bags and planning for all contingencies.

This time, however, the children have been mobilised to pack for themselves and I am feeling a weight lifted.  Growing up has its advantages.  See you when we return.

Cape Cod Designs

This is where we were six years ago. 

If only I had known what I know now.

If only A-M had been on my radar.

I'm quite delirious that my poster girl has posted a comment on my last post.

How can I even begin to become so familiar with roof pitches, roman blind fabrics, tap fittings and garden drainage systems?   I can't even find a dining table or a ground cover for the footpath.  It is truly a gift.

I bow to you.

(Now tell me your sources.)


'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.

For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.

'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.

Poem by Rudyard Kipling
Image by me
Inspiration by A-M

Robbie: Burn the Floor

Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe



Image: Winner of SYTYCD Australia, Season 3, Robbie Kmetoni.
 

Party hats and homemade cake

In the dim and distant past,

When life's tempo wasn't fast,
Grandma used to rock and knit,
Crochet, tat and baby sit.

When we were in a jam,
We could always count on gram.
In the age of gracious living,
Grandma's life was one of giving.

Author Unknown

Happy birthday Mum.  I miss your slippers at the door and your wave over the shoulder. 

B-Well Report: The Office Stairwell.

Early morning, glorious Autumn day, sky clear, birds on the wing, leaves turning... and I'm driving off to the underground car park. However, it's day one of my B-well journey and I take the stairs. Harsh fluorescent light, painted concrete, metal rails.  Not exactly a stroll in the park with the warm sun on my back.  It actually looks like the torture chamber that is a gym. 

Nothing like starting your wellness campaign in a fire escape.

 
Home time.  Going down.  Basement car park.
 
 

 
One step at a time.

Girls with Glasses Project

These days reading glasses are fashionable in that nerdy-chic way, and practical to wear, if wear glasses you must.  You can whip them off when you need to speak to someone and, generally, when you are out and about, they remain in their case. However, I am short-sighted and can't recognise my own children in the distance in the school playground or colleagues approaching from the far end of the corridor or read sub-titles on the television, menu deals at the take-away or street signs while driving especially in my town where they are inconveniently and incomprehensively placed on the furthest side of the street. 

I need them on when I am moving, but not when I come to a halt.  Look down and they have to be off so I can read the label, the recipe instructions or the street directory at close quarters. So they are on and off, on and off, on and off, all day long.  Infuriating.  I've no patience whatsoever. I've tried slinging them on my neckline, where they fall off when you bend over, parking them on my head like sunglasses where your hair get stuck in the wings and frankly it looks daft, and wearing them all the time which is a recipe for eye strain. 

So, I sense there is a market for the modern spectacle receptacle (it will need a name, 'spec-lace' ?) which just might be the next Big Thing in accessories for myopic fashionistas.  Etsy sellers look out.  No granny chains from Big W please. Something stylish in precious metal, leather, cord, ribbons or ethnic beads.  You heard it first here.

The product could be launched at a performance of the fabulous show, The Girls with Glasses, by Brooke White and Summer Bellessa.  Theme song: I am a Girl...Gonna Capture the World. Sylvia Plath. Lucille Ball. Marilyn Monroe, Bridget Bardot. Grace Kelly. Audrey Hepburn. Mother Teresa.  Marie Curie. 

Now where did I put my glasses?

The Fairies

Up the airy mountain

Down the rushy glen,

We daren't go a-hunting,

For fear of little men;

Wee folk, good folk,

Trooping all together;

Green jacket, red cap,

And white owl's feather.

Down along the rocky shore

Some make their home,

They live on crispy pancakes

Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain-lake,

With frogs for their watch-dogs,

All night awake.

   By William Allingham

Th faeries and elf need feeding.  It's the witching hour again.  Pity they can't live on dew drops and thistle down like their fictional selves.  Left-over fried rice beckons and I can hear the 'but I don't like this' welling up and the "I want the peas separate' and 'I'm full' and 'It's too spicy'.   

When I sound the fairy call,

Gather here in silent meeting,

Chin to knee on the orchard wall,

Cooled with dew and cherries eating.

Merry, merry, Take a cherry

Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder

Mine are sweeter, For the eater

When the dews fall. And you'll be fairies all.

  By Robert Graves

B-Well Report

I've signed up with Collage of Life to make some incremental steps towards a healthier lifestyle.   It's not so great to sit for more than eight hours at the computer and only walk to the tea room for coffee.  I have revealed to some colleagues that, in Winter, I can travel by car from my internal access garage to the underground car park in my office building, take the lift, sit down, log on and not breathe fresh air or have sunlight touch my skin all day!  If it weren't for the need to collect children from After School Care, I could do the reverse at the end of the day and not venture outside AT ALL.  Atrocious!  I'm not alone here either.  Now I have those hand weights in the wardrobe and I'm going to use them today.  

Photo: Little Wanna and Charly at Luna Park, Sydney (2009)

Crazy Hair Days

Image: Sketch for Crazy Hair Day fund-raiser on last day of Term 1 by Little Wanna.

School Holidays means Crazy Hair for me for two weeks.  So far we have been to the circus, seen Nanny McPhee 2, practiced bike riding, played school, gardened, played with Lego, completed jigsaw puzzles, had first soccer practice with new team (rather uninspiring team name of "United"), practiced soccer moves at home, bounced on trampoline (doesn't everyone seem to have one in the backyard these days?!), drawn elaborate pictures in hand-made books, written short stories, cooked flat and fat pancakes, had a few trial goes of the slow cooker, spent ages trying to work out why a fuse keeps blowing (unrelated to previous), researched hand blenders and still can't decide, spent way too much time on the DS and generally lolled about.  Need a hair cut.

Bandaid jewellery: It really DOES exist!

And we thought we were trend setters.  Just goes to show that Little Wanna was onto a marketable idea.  Must workshop some more with her at playtime.
From Third Drawer Down

Imagination: Bandaid Jewellery

Decorative bandaid worn solely for its aesthetic effect.

A new form of juvenile bling?

Imagination! who can sing thy force?

Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?

Soaring through the air to find the bright abode,

Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God,

We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,

And leave the rolling universe behind:

From star to star the mental optics rove,

Measure the skies, and range the realms above.

There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,

Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul.

Poem by Phillis Weatley

Styling by Little Wanna, Age 5

Dithering and list-making

To Do List

Find out more about new job

Decide how to structure hours

Factor in children's extra-curricular activites

Work out school holiday leave

Write up diary and calendar

Work out where to hang calendar (and how)

Buy slow cooker

Select ground cover for under magnolia tree

Select shrubs for raised back garden

Select cover for footpath (nature strip, as they say here)

Buy scanner for old negatives

Write long overdue letters to overseas friends (if they are still there)

Ring Aunt in London

Write up Birthday Book (and remember birthdays)

Sell surplus furniture

Donate items to Anglicare

Track down an eight-seater square dining table (somehow, somewhere)

Frame Charly's art

Print photos for Charly's calendar (oops, it's now April)

Sew badges on Charly's Guide sash

Buy jaunty winter cap (maybe not)

Check Charly has clothes and gear for school camp in Term 2

Check boots, socks and shin pads for soccer season

Play board games (Who Stole the Cake? as Wanna calls Cluedo)

Iron and sort clothes (perpetual job)

Learn how handycam works

Buy carrycase for handycam

Decide on blog theme and keep it up-to-date

Write reviews for Kid's Book Review

Plan menus

Ponder jewellery boxes and cases

Get Ro-ro and Wanna practising bike riding

Get sewing machine serviced

Get carpets steam cleaned

Get quote for blind in 'guest quarters'

Read library books and return on time

Start thinking about Winter birthday parties (I know, but I dither)

Establish herb garden

Think about Bamix stick blender

Stain cedar windows

Supervise piano and flute practice

Arrange piano lessons for Wanna

Walk with hand weights

Re-order list

Image from here via The Diversion Project

Decisions, planning, lists

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 Robert Frost
Mmm.  Stick with what I know or take a new challenge?  Muddle the routine or stay in a rut?  Guess I know what Mr Frost would say!  Must get more organised.  That would make a difference too.  Start with a list.  Tonight.  I will.

Image: Desktop Decision-maker Paperweight