Monday, 28 February 2011

Dress-ups



THE LADY's DRESSING ROOM
(an extract)
~ Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)

FIVE Hours, (and who can do it less in?)
By haughty Celia spent in Dressing;
The Goddess from her Chamber issues,
Array'd in Lace, Brocades and Tissues.

Strephon, who found the Room was void,
And Betty otherwise employ'd;
Stole in, and took a strict Survey,
Of all the Litter as it lay;
Whereof, to make the Matter clear,
An Inventory follows here.


Oscar night 2010. 

Here's to Hollywood dressing rooms and the little princesses who are enthralled by the magical world of moving pictures and who dream of dress-ups every day. 

"I think I was probably eight years old and staring into the bathroom mirror, and this would have been a shampoo bottle." Kate Winslet, 2009. 

Sunday, 27 February 2011

Little things

One Inch Tall
~ Shel Silverstein


If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).

Friday, 25 February 2011

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by Soule Mama.

Friday Movie Night: The Chronicles of Narnia: A Gripping Moment.

B-Well Report: Walk to Work

There was a Young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
But its colour and size,
So bedazzled her eyes,
That she very soon went back to Dorking.

***

Looking forward, looking back, on my way to work.  This is, unbelievably, the National Capital of an advanced economy.  Here I plod over State Circle directly across the road from Parliament House, just after 9.00 am on a weekday morning and there is no traffic whatsoever on the roads.   School's in and the good car parks have gone, so most workers would be hunched over their desks.  Still, it seems remarkable that there is such grand infrastructure in such a small city.  Does this make it soul-less (as it has been oft accused and does on occasion feel)?  Or  are we lucky to enjoy so little traffic and commotion?

Thursday, 24 February 2011

My Old Sewing Machines

As ye sew, so shall ye rip. ~Author Unknown


The Lady With The Sewing-Machine
~ Dame Edith Sitwell

Across the fields as green as spinach,
Cropped as close as Time to Greenwich,
Stands a high house; if at all,
Spring comes like a Paisley shawl —

Patternings meticulous
And youthfully ridiculous.
In each room the yellow sun
Shakes like a canary, run

On run, roulade, and watery trill —
Yellow, meaningless, and shrill.
Face as white as any clock's,
Cased in parsley-dark curled locks —

All day long you sit and sew,
Stitch life down for fear it grow,
Stitch life down for fear we guess
At the hidden ugliness.

Dusty voice that throbs with heat,
Hoping with your steel-thin beat
To put stitches in my mind,
Make it tidy, make it kind,

You shall not: I'll keep it free
Though you turn earth, sky and sea
To a patchwork quilt to keep
Your mind snug and warm in sleep.

Still procrastinating on sewing the Guide badges.   But don't you like my old  children's sewing machine pictured above?  It must have belonged to my grandmother.  I played with it as a child , rusty and cranky though it was, with the table clamp and hand-turned wheel.  

Then I graduated to this portable Singer which was in the spare room of my family home, and there I stopped for years until I married and purchased a cute little Husqvarna with which to make curtains.  Big mistake.  It now resides in a top cupboard.  One day I will release it from solitary confinement. 

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Slow days



The Sleepout
~ Les Murray, 1987

Childhood sleeps in a verandah room
in an iron bed close to the wall
where the winter over the railing
swelled the blind on its timber boom

and splinters picked lint off warm linen
and the stars were out over the hill;
then one wall of the room was forest
and all things in there were to come.

Breathings climbed up on the verandah
when dark cattle rubbed at the corner
and sometimes dim towering rain stood
for forest, and the dry cave hunched woollen.

Inside the forest was lamplit
along tracks to a starry creek bed
and beyond lay the never-fenced country,
its full billabongs all surrounded

by animals and birds, in loud crustings,
and sometimes kept leaping up amongst them.
And out there, to kindle whenever
dark found it, hung the daylight moon.



Same old days with dozey starts. Getting into the swing of things but consistently rising and retiring too late.  Must do better!  Parent-teacher night revealed that the teacher, who caused so much inner angst in the first week, is in fact a warm and bright soul (probably the pick of the bunch).  Just goes to show that shouldn't necessarily jump to hasty conclusions based on a child's initial assessment of the situation.  Must trust your instincts of course, and I sensed this was a matter of schoolyard comparisons rather than anything more troubling.  We can't have 'Mr Chips'- style teachers every year sadly.

As much as I have high regard for teachers, in terms of their administration, I did think, as I sat in the classrooms listening intently to their explanations of the term ahead, that some could do with a stint in the bureaucracy to learn how to organise their presentations and timetables.  Some were persuasive and authoritative, others seemed to have no idea what sort of reassuring information we needed.  They clearly work with children and not government ministers.  I guess if you are a public school you have neither the wherewithal nor the inclination to look too polished or cultivate a customer service mentality.   It's very odd.

Photos: Canberra street scenes by me.

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Slow sew

From the Tao Te Ching:

It is not wise to dash about.
Shortening the breath causes much stress.
Use too much energy, and
You will soon be exhausted.
That is not the Natural Way.
Whatever works against this Way
Will not last long.

***

Back to work today after one of those weekends where there was plenty of scheduled activities and lots of pottering. Nothing much practical was accomplished.  Ironing basket still overflowing and we live in a general state of disorganisation.   A few Guide badges are yet to be sewn on the bag but the main sash is finished.  That's something!

One of the highlights was checking out the Handmade Market at its new location in the Canberra Convention Centre.  Little Wanna and I circled the stalls looking repeatedly at the fabric elephant and giraffe toys.  Turns out she wants to make one.  So we spent a good portion of yesterday learning to do running stitch and chain stitch on a calico sampler.  So out of my comfort zone.  We have a children's craft book called Made by Me which provided invaluable advice in the absence of a great Aunt or Grandma who might otherwise have have done so.  Next thing I'll be getting the sewing machine serviced.  Possibly.  Making no rash decisions.  Best not to rush about in a fit of enthusiasm and then have it fizzle.   I'm good at that.
   
Photo: Granite Island, Victor Harbour, South Australia

Saturday, 19 February 2011

Limited Overs

Casey at the Bat
~ Ernest L. Thayer (1888)

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.”

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

***

To be fair, I need to acknowledge the cricketers in the family, as well as the ballerinas and divers.  The fact that I only have a two year old photograph of Milo cricket sessions on Deakin oval (and a bad one at that - three boys in a badly composed line) is testament to my negligible interest in this sport.

We have now moved up a notch from Milo mini-training sessions to two-hour modified games.  'Limited overs' I think is what they are called. Heaven help us when it comes to these all day marathons in the higher grades.  There goes the weekend.  The girls and I shall do matinees and swim all day.

The Strong Silent One has volunteered to coach the Under 9 boys at our local club. Last week, he wrote the following message to the team, which is pure poetry itself.  No idea what half of it means, but isn't it lyrical?

This week's results for the Canberra Times are below and updated statistics are enclosed.

Best bowling figures today was Luke with 0/14 from 4 overs and Adam topped the batting (12).
For me, the shot of the day was Callum's four behind square leg.  

Josh also did well, coming in with second best figures with both bat and ball.
Josh also scored the most runs off the bat (8), followed by Callum (6).

Just goes to show how punishing (or favourable) the scoring system can be - with no wickets conceded, Josh would have scored 32 and Callum 24.

Maybe at training this week, we need to practice running between wickets and defensive batting.

ps.  The main poem above is an American baseball poem first published in The San Francisco Examiner.  Shows how much I know.
A Home
~ Sarah C. Woolsey

What is a home? A guarded space,
Wherein a few, unfairly blest,
Shall sit together, face to face,
And bask and purr and be at rest?

Where cushioned walls rise up between
Its inmates and the common air,
The common pain, and pad and screen
From blows of fate or winds of care?

Where Art may blossom strong and free,
And Pleasure furl her silken wing,
And every laden moment be
A precious and peculiar thing?

Friday, 18 February 2011

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by Soule Mama.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

The Quest for a Piano

Piano
~ D. H. Lawrence (1918)

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

We've been looking at new and second hand pianos sporadically over the past few weeks.  But we have no idea really what we are looking at technically - height is apparently the thing.  But honestly it just needs to match our open plan decor - our first and over-riding, entirely superficial, criteria. 

If we were to get a second hand piano, we'd need to get a 'piano man'  in to test it and it's all a bit of gamble.  I really liked the first big old fashioned timber one above, but we'd need a big old fashioned house to match, and it was a tad shonky.  Black would 'go' better with the parquetry floors, but golly I really don't know.  Which wall exactly are we going to put it against? 

We've also been to the proper piano shop to inspect their offerings.  There is a very suitable brand new ebony upright Kawai K-3 - a snip at $6,500!  So for the moment it's back to the hired digital piano keyboard on a stand which has been consigned to a room downstairs, not in the hub of the house where it will be frequently played.  We really need to get back on the case before the end of term.  I have masking tape markers on the walls in two rooms to help size the various models up.   It's a dilemma.

Chlorine: the breakfast of champions!

Oh yes, we were wary.  Well, I was.

but the diver showed no fear whatsoever ...
off the spring board (after the big boofy boys got out of the way)
plummetting into water over five metres deep
then ramping it up to the diving tower off a three metre diving platform
ah-hooooyyy
I don't think I could have ever done this at ten years of age.
Diving - the new board game.

Monday, 14 February 2011

Colour and Movement

On the weekend, we ducked in to the National Multicultural Festival in the heart of Canberra to catch up with some friends and check out the action. There was plenty going on - food stalls, cultural performances on a number of stages and various booths with displays by clubs and community groups. But amid all this colour and movement, the familiar merry-go-round in Petrie Plaza was by far the best entertainment.  

The merry-go-round started operating in 1914 at the St Kilda Esplanade in Melbourne.  It was purchased for $40,000 for the people of Canberra at public auction in September 1973.  The horses are four abreast in 14 rows. There are also two hand carved wooden elephant carriages.  One elephant is white the other is grey.  The boys took a typically recumbent pose on Queenie the white elephant.   


Oh, watch out! Here comes Tashi and friends!


It was hot and crowded and noisy - what with the drummers accompanying the Chinese lion dance, the techno belly dancers and Chilean pipes all going at it with amplified sound - and we were just trailing around aimlessly.  So we sought refuge at the playground in Glebe Park so we could hear each other speak and allow the children to let off some more steam.  

The ACT library site has more on the history of the Civic merry-go-round and pipe organ. 

Saturday, 12 February 2011

Allegro

"Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's looking." Unknown

This is going to be such fun! A sweet and beautiful young dance teacher.  A large room with mirrors and barres.   Real piano accompaniment (just makes my knees go weak) and an inspiring mix of disciplined and playful steps.   Oh, and a little girl who loves to dance.   Happy, happy days.  Sure beats cricket.

Friday, 11 February 2011

First Ballet Lesson

Variation on a Theme
~ D. H. Lawrence

when the white feet of dancers beat across the stage
the sound is like the wings of birds at dawn, fluttering,
and when the feathery light bodies rise en pointe, spinning
like the wind across a lake, the sight is romance, uttering.

Guess where we are going today?  So excited.

But first, the dreaded sewing of the elastic straps.  I've left it to the very last minute.  Why can't everything be iron-on?   Or affixable with a small dob of Tarzan's Grip?   The Girl Guide badges still await my deft touch from their pile in the sewing basket.  They have been moved around the living room all summer, but now I really must get onto it by Tuesday night.  I just find cotton thread so extremely uncooperative and impossible to tame - like trying to stitch with a coiled electrical cord. 

It looks so deceptively easy.  A bit like ballet itself until you try it.

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by Soule Mama.

Thursday, 10 February 2011

Arrows in the air

The Arrow and the Song
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It feel to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.


Last day of the first week back at school.  Things are better on the teacher front.  The despondency has been replaced with resignation and acceptance, plus a modest concession that all might not be as bad as it seems.  You never know where the arrow might fall. 

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Fashion Shoot


Delight in Disorder

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction:
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher:
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbands to flow confusedly:
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat:
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.


Yes, that would sum me up.  Hours spent on lunch preparation, assisting with breakfast and grooming the children, last-minute administration and then a rushed ten minutes to get myself ready for work.  It is always a mad rummage through  the wardrobe, despair that the preferred items are unironed, quick decisions to create an improvised 'Polyvore' mix-and-match set and then the slick application of basic make-up.  Once I land at my desk I often regret my choice - the monotony of the selection, the lack of accessorising and possibly mismatched socks.   Lately I've discovered layering with knit vests and the simple but effective impact of wearing a necklace.  I'm paying a bit more attention to how I look and it does make a difference.  I'm not a great one for fashion and it takes a huge effort to go through this process.  I'm more a 'sweater and jeans' kinda gal, sadly stuck in a suited world.

Poem by Robert Herrick 
Photo: My Paparazzi

Code of Conduct


The Diplomatic Platypus

I had a duck-billed platypus when I was up at Trinity,
With whom I soon discovered a remarkable affinity.
He used to live in lodgings with myself and Arthur Purvis,
And we all went up together for the Diplomatic Service.
I had a certain confidence, I own, in his ability,
He mastered all the subjects with remarkable facility;
And Purvis, though more dubious, agreed that he was clever,
But no one else imagined he had any chance whatever.

I failed to pass the interview, the board with wry grimaces
Took exception to my boots and then objected to my braces,
And Purvis too was failed by an intolerant examiner
Who said he had his doubts as to his sock-suspender's stamina.
Our summary rejection, though we took it with urbanity
Was naturally wounding in some measure to our vanity;
The bitterness of failure was considerably mollified,
However, by the ease with which our platypus had qualified.

The wisdom of the choice, it soon appeared, was undeniable;
There never was a diplomat more thoroughly reliable.
The creature never acted with undue precipitation O,
But gave to every question his mature consideration O.
He never made rash statements his enemies might hold him to,
He never stated anything, for no one ever told him to,
And soon he was appointed, so correct was his behaviour,
Our Minister (without Portfolio) to Trans-Moravia.

My friend was loved and honoured from the Andes to Esthonia,
He soon achieved a pact between Peru and Patagonia,
He never vexed the Russians nor offended the Rumanians,
He pacified the Letts and yet appeased the Lithuanians,
Won approval from his masters down in Downing Street so wholly, O,
He was soon to be rewarded with the grant of a Portfolio,
When on the Anniversary of Greek Emancipation,
Alas! He laid an egg in the Bulgarian Legation.

This untoward occurrence caused unheard-of repercussions,
Giving rise to epidemics of sword-clanking in the Prussians.
The Poles began to threaten, and the Finns began to flap at him,
Directing all the blame for this unfortunate mishap at him;
While the Swedes withdrew entirely from the Anglo-Saxon dailies
The right of photographing the Aurora Borealis,
And, all efforts at rapprochement in the meantime proving barren,
The Japanese in self-defence annexed the Isle of Arran.

My platypus, once thought to be more cautious and more tentative
Than any other living diplomatic representative,
Was now a sort of warning to all diplomatic students
Of the risks attached to negligence, the perils of imprudence,
Beset and persecuted by the forces of reaction, O,
He reaped the consequences of his ill-considered action, O,
And, branded in the Honours List as 'Platypus, Dame Vera',
Retired, a lonely figure, to lay eggs in Bordighera.


Poem by Patrick Barrington
Photo: National Archives of Australia. Title : Animals - Platypus - Platypus swimming amongst rocks (1970)

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

First day at school

The 'omm' calm before the storm which was first day at school.  (Pardon the ironing board)

Mixed reactions among the brood to their respective new teachers.  One burst into tears in the car on the way home and then immediately rushed out to spend 15 minutes on the swing in glum solitary silence.  

It's going to be a long week.

Sunday, 6 February 2011

And now to do my duty to accept this award :-)


1. thank and link back to the person who awarded you this award - check

2.Share 7 things about yourself

3.Pay it forward to 15 recently discovered great bloggers

4.contact those bloggers and tell them about the award


One ruby and diamond engagement ring

Two tea pots
Three children
Four music lessons
Five bedrooms
Six cake forks
Seven seat Honda MDX

http://keepcatebusy.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-83-awww-shucks.html

Make the welkin ring

No Doctor's Today, Thank You
~ Ogden Nash

They tell me that euphoria is the feeling of feeling wonderful,
well, today I feel euphorian,
Today I have the agility of a Greek god and the appetitite of a Victorian.
Yes, today I may even go forth without my galoshes,
Today I am a swashbuckler, would anybody like me to buckle any swashes?

This is my euphorian day,
I will ring welkins* and before anybody answers I will run away.
I will tame me a caribou
And bedeck it with marabou.
I will pen me my memoirs.
Ah youth, youth! What euphorian days them was!

I wasn't much of a hand for the boudoirs,
I was generally to be found where the food was.
Does anybody want any flotsam?
I've gotsam.
Does anybody want any jetsam?
I can getsam.

I can play chopsticks on the Wurlitzer,
I can speak Portuguese like a Berlitzer.
I can don or doff my shoes without tying or untying the laces because
I am wearing moccasins,
And I practically know the difference between serums and antitoccasins.
Kind people, don't think me purse-proud, don't set me down as vainglorious,
I'm just a little euphorious.

* There's that word 'welkin' again.  This time it refers to the set phrase make the welkin ring, meaning to make a very loud sound. What supposedly rings in this situation is the vault of heaven, the bowl of the sky.  In older cosmology this was thought to be one of a set of real crystal spheres that enclosed the Earth, to which the planets and stars were attached, so it would have been capable of ringing like a bell if you made enough noise.

In the epic poem Beowulf of about the eighth century AD, the phrase under wolcen meant under the sky or under heaven. Ever since, it has had a strong literary or poetic connection. It appears often in Shakespeare and also in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales: “This day in mirth and revel to dispend, / Till on the welkin shone the starres bright”. In 1739, a book with the title Hymns and Sacred Poems introduced one for Christmas written by Charles Wesley that began: “Hark! how all the welkin rings, / Glory to the King of kings”. Fifteen years later it reappeared as “Hark! the herald-angels sing / Glory to the new born king”.


Indeed.  That sums up the situation in the gull's nest neatly.  School starts tomorrow and we are home on the last drawn-out day of the summer holidays making the welkin ring and feeling a smidge euphorian.  We have started it off by playing a few rounds of Spot memory game, continuing with the cardboard sculpture workshops of the previous two days (see BBQ below) and wearing-in our new black patent leather Mary-Jane shoes. 




Source: World Wide Words

Saturday, 5 February 2011

Cardboard boxes


We were in a flurry of cardboad creativity yesterday thanks to inspiration from the amazing Joel Henriques of Made by Joel.   Here we introduce our monster puppet based on his simple but effective cardboard marionette.  Revving behind is one of the two cardboard cars made from boxes acquired from Wiffins greengrocers at Fyshwick markets earlier in the day.  We squealed when they offered us two boxes for our fruit and vege.  The fruit was great but the boxes were better.  We'll be back.


A mobile phone in production.


.. and shoes!



They also rummaged in the recycle bin at home for old cereal boxes to turn into a miniature village.  Our house now resembles a supermarket delivery dock with corrugated card and masking tape strewn all over.  Like me, I think the children lack the craft gene.  They roared into the activity with great enthusiasm but it was all about speed of production and less about a quality result.  Slapdash is our middle name. However, they are back at it this morning, so at least they show commitment.

Friday, 4 February 2011

The Economics of Pandas

Po: “Legend tells of a legendary warrior whose kung fu skills were the stuff of legend.
Panda: [eating] “Don't tell monkey.

Tai Lung: You can't defeat me! You... you're just a big... fat... panda!
[He throws a weak punch, Po catches his hand by the finger]
Po: I'm not a big fat panda. I'm THE big fat panda.

  [after completing his training]
Shifu: You have done well, Panda.
Po: Done well? Done well? Ha, I've done awesome!
[Elbows Shifu]
Shifu: The sign of a true hero is humility. But, yes, you have done...
[elbows Po, causing him to stagger]
Shifu: ... awesome.
[They laugh]


Photos: Resident celebrities, Wang Wang and Funi, at Adelaide Zoo. 

A massive enclosure which you enter with great fanfare (and orderly, ticketed queuing) through bamboo stands and reproduction Chinese pillars and arches.  They're big guys - not really as cuddle-able as the soft toy equivalent. 

China has supplied giant pandas - on loan - to nine countries in the last 50 years - giving them a huge tourism boost.  The practice - dubbed "panda diplomacy" - has seen visitor numbers soar at the zoos where the rare animals are sent.  Apparently when Adelaide Zoo gained the pandas, visitor numbers went up 70 per cent.  They are an obvious advertising motif all around the city. 

However, they come at a significant cost to the public purse.  The South Australian Government invested $18.9 million in the new entrance and fence, including a conference centre, but the zoo still had to find $8 million for the panda exhibit from sponsors, donors and a bank loan (which will take a least a decade to pay off). The Federal Government is also paying $1 million each year to the Chinese Government for the international breeding program that aims to save the critically endangered species.  The zoo-nomics of pandas.  Complex.