Day home from school

Tummy bug and fever has kept littlest one at home today. 

This has been a season of viruses. 

 More days off than I've ever had before.

So after I sent excuses in to work, school and after-school, we planted sunflower seeds, watered the zucchini seeds planted yesterday, made chocolate cake, cleaned windows, dusted places that haven't been dusted for a while, cleaned and buffed leather lounge, reframed a piece of child's art, danced to Glee numbers and Total Girl Hits of Summer 2011 (which transports me back to our Summer Road Trip of 2011 along the Great Ocean Road and highway to Adelaide), wiped bird poop off deck, skipped and admired skipping, ate tinned soup and pasta for lunch, put on a load of washing, applied carpet shampoo to high-traffic areas and vacuumed off, idled on the computer reading blogs and playing Wizard 101, read a bit of the paper...

 and there's still some time to go until pick-up.

I'd love to be a sahm.

This has been a lovely day.

Image: Queensland School Readers of my era

Against all odds

The Rose That Grew From Concrete

~ Tupac Shakur

 

 

Did you hear about the rose that grew

from a crack in the concrete?

Proving nature's law is wrong it

learned to walk with out having feet.

Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,

it learned to breathe fresh air.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete

when no one else ever cared.

Waxing gibbous

The Freedom of the Moon

~ by Robert Frost

I've tried the new moon tilted in the air
Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster
As you might try a jewel in your hair.
I've tried it fine with little breadth of luster,
Alone, or in one ornament combining
With one first-water start almost shining.

I put it shining anywhere I please.
By walking slowly on some evening later,
I've pulled it from a crate of crooked trees,
And brought it over glossy water, greater,
And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow,
The color run, all sorts of wonder follow.

***

The weekend.  Hurrah. Swimming lesssons as usual.  Soccer, ballet and a sleepover for the rest of the time.  Weather permitting we might go for a bush walk or cycle somewhere new. Endless possibilities plus a bit of Daniel Deronda by George Eliot (BBC TV series, 2002); the next period piece on my list. With Hugh Dancy - also a classic romantic hero of mine.

Have I mentioned that we are trying our hand at cooking confectionary?  This week we prepared coconut ice to take to school to share in the classroom to celebrate Charly's birthday, and next up we might try fudge just for the fun of it.  I've consulted my faithful Day to Day cookery book from high school home economics classes and see that I may need to purchase a packet of Cream of Tartar. It seems to be in everything.  Charly and I came up with the meme: add 'with cream of tartar' to the end of every recipe in Day2Day.   Fruit Flummery 'with cream of tartar'.    Anna Potatoes 'with cream of tartar'. Boiled custard 'with cream of tartar'.  Ok, you had to be there, and be about 11 years of age with a zany mother to appreciate the humour.  We had a good giggle.  Just the two of us.  Sweet girl. 

Tonight the moon in the southern hemisphere is 98 per cent full and waxing gibbous.  We shall be looking out for it as we walk from the pool and do a little bit of start-gazing as usual.

Photo: The Royal Australian Mint, Canberra by me.

Comfort viewing

The Starlings

~ Lyrics by The Elbow

How dare the Premier ignore my invitations?

He'll have to go

So, too, the bunch he luncheons with

It's second on my list of things to do

At the top is stopping by

Your place of work and acting like

I haven't dreamed of you and I

And marriage in an orange grove

You are the only thing in any room you're ever in

I'm stubborn, selfish and too old

I sat you down and told you how

the truest love that's ever found

Is for oneself

You pulled apart my theory

With a weary and disinterested sigh

So yes I guess I'm asking you

To back a horse that's good for glue

And nothing else

But find a man that's truer than,

Find a man that needs you more than I

Sit with me a while

And let me listen to you talk about

your dreams and your obsessions

I'll be quiet and confessional

The violets explode inside me

when I meet your eyes

Then I'm spinning and I'm diving

Like a cloud of starlings

Darling is this love?

***

One child home sick today and it's bucketing down.  So it looks like it time to catch up on domestic administration and the fun sport of laundry wrestling... and the idle comfort on another Elizabeth Gaskell serialised drama. 

I must confess that I have acquired a serious addiction to tv and film adaptations of Georgian and Victorian novels due to an uncommonly bad season of influenza in the family (and I suspect a dose of whooping cough for me) which has resulted in much Time Off Work.  It all started with Jane Austen.  But my most recent and astounding discovery has been the BBC version of Mrs Gaskell's North and South starring the impeccably cast Richard Armitage as Mr Thornton.   

Where have I been all these years?  

I commend to you the closing scene with the kiss between Thornton and Miss Hale on the railway station.  You can hunt down the entire series, and others of this genre galore, on YouTube. Which was another revelation.

John Thornton: Where are you going?

Margaret Hale: To London. I've been to Milton.
John Thornton: You'll not guess where I've been.
[Thornton pulls a rose from Helstone out of his pocket]
Margaret Hale: You've been to Helstone! I thought those had all gone!
John Thornton: I found it in the hedge row. You have to look hard. Why were you in Milton?
Margaret Hale: On business. Well, that is, I have a business proposition. Oh dear, I need Henry to help me explain.
John Thornton: You don't need Henry to explain.
Margaret Hale: I have to get this right. It's a business proposition. I have some £15,000. It is lying in the bank at present, earning very little interest. Now, my financial advisors tell me that if you were to take this money and use it to run Marlborough Mills, you could give me a much better rate of interest. So you see, it is only a business matter, you'd not be obliged to me in any way. It is you who would be doing...
[Thornton reaches down and grabs Margaret's hand]
Margaret Hale: ...me the service.
[Margaret grabs Thornton's hand and kisses it]
Margaret Hale: [Thornton touches the side of her face and leans in and kisses her]
[Margaret walks back to Henry, and he gives her suitcase to her]
Margaret Hale: Henry, I...
Henry Lennox: Goodbye, Margaret.
[Margaret walks back to Thornton]
John Thornton: You're coming home with me.

Photo: Jerrabombera Wetlands, Canberra Autumn 2011.

   

Ladies in Lavender Silk

The Little Old Lady In Lavender Silk

~ Dorothy Parker 1931

I was seventy-seven, come August,

I shall shortly be losing my bloom;

I’ve experienced zephyr and raw gust

And (symbolical) flood and simoom.

When you come to this time of abatement,

To this passing from Summer to Fall,

It is manners to issue a statement

As to what you got out of it all.

So I’ll say, though reflection unnerves me

And pronouncements I dodge as I can,

That I think (if my memory serves me)

There was nothing more fun than a man!

In my youth, when the crescent was too wan

To embarrass with beams from above,

By the aid of some local Don Juan

I fell into the habit of love.

And I learned how to kiss and be merry—an

Education left better unsung.

My neglect of the waters Pierian

Was a scandal, when Grandma was young.

Though the shabby unbalanced the splendid,

And the bitter outmeasured the sweet,

I should certainly do as I then did,

Were I given the chance to repeat.

For contrition is hollow and wraithful,

And regret is no part of my plan,

And I think (if my memory’s faithful)

There was nothing more fun than a man!

***

 
I blushed when I was mentioned by Jeanne of Collage of Life in one of her Blog Love posts long, long ago.  In typically generous form, Jeanne initiated this concept to introduce readers to new sites and to provide encouragement to every-day blogspeople like myself who chronicle ordinary events from our little corner of the world.  The idea was to spread the word about our own favourite bloggers and those who have supported and influenced us.

On my list are folk who have legions of adoring fans and certainly don't need my help to raise their profile, but I mention them because they have influenced me in small, but significant ways - making me look at life a little differently, appreciate the small details of family life and igniting a long dormant creative spark.  

So here we go:

Distracted by Shiny Objects from A Tidings of Magpies -- who started it all for me through her poetry and reflections of life as a critical care nurse from Cincinnati.

Jo from A Cup of Jo -- who doesn't love Jo, Alex and Toby? OK, I'll go the back of the queue.

Kerry from A Tranquil Townhouse  -- extra special as she's from my town, knows my beat and always writes humorous and uplifting posts. Wise and wonderful. 

Tania McCartney  -- gasp!  So clever, crafty, energetic and stylish. Also from my town which is extra spesh.  In awe, I am.  Always.

A-M from The House that AM Built  -- love that Cape Cod/French Provincial/industrial decorating style and deeply moved by her ability to rise above personal travail.

Millie from The Laurel Hedge  -- mixes thoughts about her work, decorating and life with MOTH and five (FIVE!) sons

Meredy from Count it All Joy -- warm, honest insights into bringing up a large brood, with a spiritual touch. Responsible for my attempting a rainbow cake; not as good as her signature creation, but baked to an impressive height nonetheless.

Sharon from my french country home -- what a life, what a romantic story of her move to France.  Knows her way around French linen and lace, including granny's ancien bloomers and night attire, like no-one else.

Miss Parker might have though men were fun, but, by golly, these women, plus all the other gorgeous gals over there on the side bar {waving}, sure know how to enjoy life.   I don't have time these days to catch up on every one daily, but when I do gorge on multiple posts in the one sitting, it's always enthralling to see what everyone has been up to.  It's one of the wonders of modern technology that we can connect this way; scribble our thoughts or paste a photograph and reach more readers in faraway places than Ms Parker would have ever dreamed.

Childhood

A LONG AGO STORY.

"You may laugh, my little people, But be sure my story's true; For I vow by you church steeple, I was once a child like you." The Land of Long Ago.

The Honorable Members

Parliament Hill in the Evening
~ D.H. Lawrence

The houses fade in a melt of mist

Blotching the thick, soiled air
With reddish places that still resist
The Night's slow care.

The hopeless, wintry twilight fades,
The city corrodes out of sight
As the body corrodes when death invades
That citadel of delight.

Now verdigris smoulderings softly spread
Through the shroud of the town, as slow
Night-lights hither and thither shed
Their ghastly glow.

***

This #newscorpse saga is captivating.  Doesn't the House of Commons Question Time run ticketty boo?  So much the Australian Parliament could learn.  Fast and furious questioning (in an interesting mix of accents just like in a BBC costume drama).  Articulate, well-considered and alternately humorous questions in rapid fire.  Gripping viewing for the school holidays.  Perfectly timed.

There also seems to be a good proportion of women MPs in Westminster.  I'm in awe of Louise Mensch and Nicola Blackwood in particular - young, Conservative MPs and members of the two select committees conducting the hearings.

The seating arrangements in the UK Parliament are considerably more compact than the comparatively luxurious leather lounges in our chambers. Perhaps the more intimate surroundings and close proximity to the front bench, and each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, has something to do with the speed and vivacity of the debate.

The Rt. Hon John Bercow MP, Speaker of the House of Commons, is also a cracker.  Watch out Harry Jenkins.