When the circus came to town, tea and more spring.

I just have to share a story about circuses and the small central Victorian town where the river kept trying to swallow me. I just loved the circus when I was a child and had been taken to several by my dad when quite small. But it was when my grandmother and I went to live in the country that these events became a large part of my life. The house we shared with my Gran's sister had its back fence facing the High Street, the only way into and out of the town. So, imagine my surprise when we had only been there for a short while when a man knocked on our back door.

'Hey, lady,' he greeted my Gran. 'Can we use your back fence for the circus signs? There are free tickets for the family if you give us the okay.'

Nan said yes, she could see no harm in this, and there were traces of old advertising posters already on the fence. The tickets were handed over, and I went to watch the man paste the poster. 'WIRTH"S CIRCUS' it read, in large red capital letters with a picture of a clown underneath. And I was going to go to the circus for free!

(Picture is part of the Princeton University Collection)


We became very blase about tickets and posters, and were even cheeky enough to ask for extra tickets one time. I saw every circus that came to the small country town, and was the envy of all my friends because I had free tickets for the very best seats, often front row. Which was a bit dangerous when the elephants were lumbering around. This was in the day of real circuses, when the big cats would roar as their trainer put them through their paces, threatening to bite his head off every few minutes. When the elephants performed something akin to handstands, and stood on very small upended buckets. We saw Chief Little Wolf, ex wrestler, perform his famous Indian Death Lock move on the town larrikin, who thought he could beat the performer. He was a whimpering mess in seconds. All this activity, and the Chief's flowing feathered headress never even moved. I found all this excitement this a tad tedious when I grew older, and I think I may well have been 'circused out' because I have never taken my own kiddies, or grandies, to a circus. I didn't like the jugglers or acrobats and I still have an aversion to these very clever people even now. (Mean gran that I am!)

Some more of my tea collection above. The chintz wear teapot, sugar basin and creamer are part of a set that was given to my aunt, for her engagement and added to for a wedding gift. I must have been barely three when it came into our house and I fell instantly in love with the beautiful, bright spring flowers on it. I used to open the sideboard and set it all out on the floor and pretend I was having afternoon tea. Unfortunately there was a large gathering at our house and the cups and saucers were set out, with many others, to cater for the number of people awaiting tea. My grandmother was pouring, as only grandmas can, and as she poured the hot tea, each beautiful cup split in half and tea poured over the heavily starched tablecloth. Disaster! What was left was put into the back recesses of a cupboard, and didn't see the light of day for many a long year. I was still admiring said remain when I was in my middle age and being told that it was mine when my aunt passed on. And then, one day, I saw exactly the same teapot in an antique shop for a phenomenal price and duly passed the news on. My aunt burst into tears and said that she had never, in her entire life, owned something so valuable. It came out of hiding and was given pride of place in her crystal cabinet where everyone who came to the house could admire it. After a few short years, she decided that I should take it all home as I was the only family member who had ever loved it. Now, of course, I use the dessert plates, and the sugar bowl and creamer, but would not dare to use the teapot, in case it goes the way of the cups. (I never did tell her that I stood on one of the plates and split it very neatly in half, and she never discovered that it had been repaired.) This part setting is still one of my very favourite things.

So now we can take tea in the other cups whilst you admire my hyacinths.

When we were last in England, I saw an enormous tub, at least twice the size of my half wine barrel, full of deep blue hyacinths. I opted for mauve flowers, and they are just coming to their peak now, with quite a few still not there yet. The perfume is beautifully pervasive and I tend to sit around outside sniffing the air, and thinking wonderful nature is to provide us with such beauty.

We are working madly around the garden at the moment, and today I have been up close and personal, actually sitting in the dirt, as we uproot grass so that we can lay mulch to continue our bush type pathways around the garden. The sun has been shining, shedding warmth on my back as I worked, and I came inside this evening feeling quite chuffed with myself. Himself has been busy mulching a tree that we had cut down on Monday. Mulching trees is very noisy work, and he has to work when the little one next door is not sleeping. But, there have been no complaints so far. I know I have been labouring the point, but I just adore this time of year. I guess I am just overwhelmed by all the beauty around me at the moment, and truly appreciating it all.

Hope you are all enjoying the spring here, and the autumn (almost) in the northern hemisphere.

Cheers

Springtime is.....well, restless!

...and then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils. (Wordsworth)

(picture taken at Ightam Mote in Kent, U.K.)

***********************
'When the daffodils dance in the sun and the rain
then we know that the springtime is coming again...'

Hands up if you remember singing the above song at school each year round springtime. It used to make me feel very happy every time I heard it.
I have been thinking a lot about the little country town in Central Victoria where I lived for four years. (Which always had lots of daffodils, and now has a daffodil festival each year) I had my secondary education here, but allowed my self to be seduced at age 14 - by the lure of earning my own money. I was foolish enough to come home from school one day and announce that two of my friends had left school to go to work. Unfortunately, I mentioned that they were going to work for a government department and be earning 6 pounds 15/- per week, a huge sum for a fourteen year old in 1956. (My computer doesn't do pound signs unfortunately) In today's money, $13 per week. Nan worked on me for several weeks, telling me how wonderful it would be to have my own money and I have to say, the salary was more than some men earned. So, I allowed myself to be seduced away from school and into the work force. Within six weeks I wanted to go back, but was told that I couldn't. So, I was a slave to the $ until 11 years ago, when I retired, and then went back to work on a temporary basis in the private school system. I gave this away nearly four years ago, having decided that I was only working to spend! Which leads me to say how very lucky I was to survive my four years in the small country town! I left before the water nymphs caught me!

The township is built on a large curve of the Campaspe River, which meant that the river embraced it on three sides. It is full of historic blue stone cottages and was on the main road to the gold mines in Bendigo and surrounding areas. The old coaching station for horse changes was on our corner. That river and I had many a tussle. My birth sign is Aquarius, and the water was quite determined to get me. Everytime I went near the river I fell in. Admittedly in shallow parts, but I was always straggling home in wet clothes of a weekend. The water nymphs must have wanted me for their own. But, it wasn't only the river. I fell backwards into a sewerage outlet on a family picnic, and back then the waste was not purified at this particular point. I had to be stripped and bundled into a blanket and driven some miles home. The stench came with us of course. I slipped face first into a huge mud puddle in front of a whole football team of young lads, and their supporters, and was laughed out of the ground. I can still hear that dreadful laughter. Not a word of sympathy did I get from anybody! But, my best performance was at a Sunday School picnic, when I was nearly twelve. My Nan decided that it was a bit cold for swimming so off I went and was most annoyed when it became quite hot and I was unable to swim. But, the water nymphs struck again. I tripped near the edge of the swimming pool and went head first in. The mums who had come to help with the picnic dragged me out, despite the fact that I could swim, and tried to dry me off. In the end they surrounded me with towels and one of them passed over the swimming costume she had in her bag. Like Venus rising from the sea, I emerged from the crowd of mums clad in a pale blue costume with white frills. I had developed just enough shape to fit comfortablywithin it, and was able to spend the afternoon swimming. Lucky me! But, back to the spring garden.

Here is a photo of an eremophila (common name, emu bush) that grows and flowers profusely on our nature strip (or verge) These plants are very hardy in dry weather and create a wonderful display all year round. This one is very pale, but they come in all sorts of colours. White, pink, mauve, yellow, orange right through to a deep cerise colour. The red flowers beyond it are those of a grevillea. Himself has spent quite a bit of time around the garden today, I think creating an easy to walk along pathway for me, which will entail placing steps with low risers. Hallelujah!

This is a mixture of spring flowers taken across the front of our house to the house next door, and shows some of the wattles in bloom. eriostemon, grevillea and eremophila are in bloom in the foreground.

The church choir I sing with has been performing tonight. We did quite well I think, and had lots of enthusiastic clapping from our captive audience. At practise on Thursday night it was absolutely horrendous, and I was quite determined not to attend this evening, but as I was hosting a table of guests, I duly made my way to the venue. So pleased that I did as it has been a very pleasant evening.

Sunday: today is a typical August day here in Melbourne. Bright sunshine, blustery north wind, which is having an awful drying effect on the garden but, we hope for some rain before the really hot weather sets in.

'Rough winds do shake the darling buds of September and summer's lease is something we'd rather not remember.' (Apologies to Shakespeare!)

But, I do love this early Spring weather. I could wander for miles but, perphaps fortunately, have confined myself to the home and am spending time in the garden - and more time as soon as I post this.

The street where we live

To the right is a rather poor image of a photo of our dear little departed dog, Finn. As I have said, we are petless at the moment, having decided to be so until we stop travelling far and wide and start spending more time at home. Finn was a LabradorxCocker spaniel. A most affectionate animal who adored his family, but was just a little bit 'thick' if I may say so. He developed the worst traits of both breeds. He was sitting on our outdoor table this day, having decided that it was a good vantage point from which to spot birds who dared to come into his territory. He used to chase raindrops when ever it rained, yapping hysterically. Otherwise, he was a very quiet animal, and all the neighbours knew that if he started barking and it wasn't raining, to come and investigate. He succumbed to old age and dementia several years ago and we have been missing him eversince. All this is because I want to tell you about a dog from my very young childhood. I used to think I remembered this dog, Mandrake by name, very well until I got older and realised that I had been told so often about the animal, as a child and adult, that he had become my memory He was a fox terrier, crossed with something not much bigger, and was a mad as they come. He was the usual brown and white colour and quite savage. He spent most of his life confined behind a fence, and every day, when the coast was clear, a brave member of the family would carefully open the gate and stand behind it whilst the dog shot forth, faster than a speeding bullet and as dangerous as a cannon ball, because colliding with him meant being knocked down and bitten. I remember one particular day (from having heard the story so often) when my mother came to collect me from my grandmother's house. She had apparently looked around and there was no Mandrake to be seen, so very carefully and quietly, she opened the back gate and stepped into the yard. All hell broke loose! A blur of brown and white fur cannoned into her and knocked bottom first into the nearby dubtbin, lidless just at that time. Her hysterics as she tried to get out of the bin, legs and arms waving in all directions, combined with the dog's mad racing around the garden, stopping now and then to growl threateningly at anyone who came within barking range of his fun, had the entire household in uproar. Rescue finally appeared in the form of my grandfather who found a rope and finally cornered the dog, dragging him back to his pen, where he began to complain loudly and bitterly about having his fun ruined! My by now weeping mother was led into the house for a restorative cup of tea, amidst unseemly laughter at her predicament. I think I really do remember the dog, but not the incident. He came to a sad end when someone carelessly opened the back gate and he raced into the road to attack a rare passing automobile.

The restorative tea was possibly served in a setting something like this, as my grandmother always had a table set for a cuppa, and the kettle on the boil. These are my green and yellow cups, a bit blurred, but very nice for all that. The cloth, hard to see the embroidery, is cross=stitched with a mexican boy and girl, and cacti. I have been catching up with afternoon tea sites and admiring all the finery there is to see. I really do wish we spent more time with friends over tea, but everybody is so busy racing the clock that it is almost impossible.

I have a tin of Harrod's Tea purchased in London, and it is a most delicious brew, which I now keep for special afternoon teas, when I must use the teapot and tea strainer, rather than a tea bag.

To the left is a photo of the street on which we live, with all its trees. Ours is the nature strip in the foreground, with some of the shrubs in bloom. As you can see, the street is full of trees and shrubbery and is very pretty. There are no cars parked here at the moment. Had I taken a photo at the other end of the street you would have been forgiven for thinking that I lived in a used car yard with lots of trees around it. A new crop of 18 year olds have their licences now, and the cars to go with them. Our street has no on road parking as such, so many nature strips have been given over to parking. It looks dreadful but...that's modern life. One household has at least six cars on site, and often more of a weekend. Modern living is a tad depressing sometimes.


Another lot of Australian native flowers. Ray had been to a garden club meeting, and came home with these. Amongst the wattle there is epacris, hakea, dryandra and grevilla. They certainly show up well in a vase, but unfortunately do not have a long life span. However, this is a wonderful time of year for flowers.

Spring is really here, because himself is out mowing the grass. Not lawn, just a mown patch of weeds, which we hope to be totally rid of over the next few weeks to create a bush landscape with mulched pathways meandering between the flora. The tablecloth is embroidered with Australian birds and flowers.

Back to dogs and my library days. My second school library was at a secondary boy's school in a rather tough area of Melbourne. I was very nervous about going there, but it was convenient to home and for on time pick up for my own youngest from school. Once the boys had seen me in action and they realised I was okay, they were wonderful. Not altogether the academic types, but they would be alright when grown. I was on reference duty one day when a young lad came bouncing through the door with a wide smila and a 'g'day Miss, I need a book on dogs!'

Me: 'What sort of dogs?'
Him (looking puzzled) 'Canines Miss.'

Me (trying to keep a straight face) 'What sort of canines."

Him: 'I told you Miss! Dogs!'

I managed to find him a book all about the various breeds of dogs and he went off happily, very pleased with Miss, despite her being a bit dim. A restorative cuppa was called for after yet another crossed line!

Happy blogging people

Cheers!

An Australian Spring

I love these cool morning and sunny days and that vague scent of Spring that assails one's nostrils if one steps outside. At the moment the perfume is wattle (acacia or mimosa if you live in Europe) And yes, the urge to springclean is with me, so it will be interesting to see what I might unearth over the next few weeks. I will let you know if anything exiting turns up.

Clematis microphylla

This is a true harbinger of Spring around Victoria. We were on the Bellarine Peninsula, south west of Melbourne through the week, and poor Ray screeched to a halt when I yelled as I spotted this wondrous plant, Affectionately hugging a roadside native tree. It was stunning and the flowers appeared to be a pale lemon colour, but look more white in the photograph. It is, as you will perhaps notice, a very delicate clematis, with small, but not at all shy, flowers. The vine scrambles its way over anything in its path. It has a rather nice perfume as well, reminiscent of honey. It looks lovely scrambling over fences and through shrubs and trees. Sometimes, if there is nothing very high to climb, it grows over itself, and fills hollows in the nearby ground.

Acacia boormanni, looking quite spectacular
growing happily between our house and the house next door. It forms a nice open hedge and when in bloom is truly spectacular. A true bright gold colour and everybody stops to ooh! and ahh! over it. We met some new neighbours some time ago, before the actually moved into our court, because they stopped to admire, and to ask of the gardener (himself) what variety of wattle it was. He happily obliged and oh happiness, the newer neighbours are native plant people. The same as the new friends next door, so we are quite happy with the gardens around us these days. It is so nice to see more and more people growing Australian native plants. Mind you, I still like the English garden too, but unfortunately, he and I sometimes confront each other with shovels at 20 paces as I attempt to plant another non native. We haveln't done too badly on a compromise though, and I have some camellias and azales and even a poor little stellata magnolia that struggles to keep its head up, not being particularly fond of our hot summers. It tries hard to oblige, but the flowering period is brief and not spectacular. I think we will be passing it on to someone in the not too distant future. You will also notice that at this time of year there are a lot of yellow flowers in bloom. Lots of grevilleas and hakeas in different colours but just now, the yellow is superb. We have been madly pulling weeds today, and I managed to plant another half dozen shrubs which we hope will survive if we have another very dry summer. The soil is still very dry underneath, but, we live in hope.

and her, of course are two examples of my favourite English places. The lovely wisteria scrambles over this lovely Cotswold stone cottage at Broadway, in England. This is my favourite Cotswold town, follwed closely by Bourton on the Water. I suspect only because of this lovely plant, which hasn't let me down any time I have been to Broadway in the Spring. I just adore Britain in the Spring. The soft, but bright, colours are everywhere, and one can actually smell Spring in the air, even more so than here at home. Lilac, wisteria, blossom and everything beautiful, as only Britain can show it.

I really would like to live in Britain for 12 months so that I can experience the distinct change in seasons. The seasons tend to blur a bit here in Australia I find, whereas in the northern hemisphere the changes are very distinct, and seem to happen suddenly. (Just my opinion folks!)

And this photo on the right is Hidcote Manor garden at its spectacular best. I was on overload here and I loooked at all the beauty around me.

Not just the tulip beds, but everywhere I turned
there seemed to be something spectacular. We
spent a long time browsing the beauties of Hidcote, finding it very difficult to tear ourselves away and head back to our B&B. However, the time came wlhen we had to say farewell and move on. We were actually on our way home and were only 3 days away from flying out of the country and back to my dear old Oz. Dorothea McKellar's poem really sums it all up when she says "I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping planes....the wide brown land for me.'

I actually heard her evocative words sung earlier this week, and it really should/could have been our national anthem. A bit jingoistic I guess but lovely, for all that. I think many Australians become embarrassed about expressing their love for their land. I must admit that I used to cringe whenever I heard Waltzing Matilda, and I still prefer it without words, but as I get older I realise that I am nationalistic after all. Despite having been of the generation reared to be British, celebrating Empire Day and all the other British events. But hey, it hasn't done me any harm and I love both countries to bits!

I found those 'lost' photos at last. It was such a simple process when I finally got serious in my search for same.

Happy days, bloggers!

Spring is in the air...

I guess this pelican, pictured on the banks of the Murray River, trying to look totally nonchalant as the seagulls have moved in, and succeeding I think is perahps not quite spring, but it certainly was in the air this day. I didn't see another pelican, so obviously it wasn't time to choose a partner pelican at this stage. Just thinking about it!

This blog was meant to be a celebration of spring, with photos of all our spring flowers around the garden, and elsewhere, but, as usual, I have lost the photos that I added to an unknown file somewhere in this computer. I keep forgetting to name the new uploads and therefore lose them. I suppose I will learn one of these days. I get sooooo frustrated by it all!!

So let's move onto afternoon tea. This time, I chose to use some of the blue cups, on a hand stitched bluebird cloth, which I hope you will enjoy.
For those of you out there who may be interested in recipes, the following is a cookie recipe which I discovered on a sheet of paper in a book a very elderly friend gave me in the 1960s. I found it about two months ago, and have been making these very easy, very economical biscuits ever since. I suspect that the recipe may well date from the 1930s It is very tasty, so I do hope you enjoy! I tend to double the recipe and do all sorts of things with it, including beating a meringue of the left over whites and spreading it on top of the biscuits before putting them into the oven. It is just something a little bit different. Sorry about the weights being in the old imperial, but that is how old the recipe is, and I can't be bothered working out the metric equivalents. Too tired!

VANILLA BISCUITS.

Ingredients:

4 ozs of Self raising flour, 2 ozs butter, 2 ozs sugar, yolk of 1 egg, vanilla essence to taste.

METHOD:
Cream butter and sugar and add yolk of egg. Beat well and add vanilla and flour. Knead lightly and roll into thin sheet of pastry. Cut into circles (or any shape) and glaze with the white of egg (unbeaten). Put a piece of almond on each biscuit and bake in a moderate oven for 10 mins. They should be light brown. when cooked.

(They are very nice with glace ginger added to mixture, put together with butter icing flavoured with vanilla, or lemon juice, or with meringue spread on top before baking.)

We have been busy around the garden and, I actually planted 11 new shrubs this week, and he has placed more around awaiting my expert attention. This weather really makes me want to be outside, doing interesting things. We went along to a meeting, with youngest grandson in tow, to listen to a friend speak about Australian native plants. Now grandson is a great fan of this particular friend of ours, and spent most of the time sitting up close and personal as he was presenting his talk. I finally coaxed him down to sit with me, but that was boring. Far more fun being with our friend. But he was busy talking and not paying the right attention, so young grandson asked, quite loudly, 'When is he going to stop talking, grandma?' Friend eventually wound up and showed some slides, but eventually harmony was restored and grandson helped friend clean up all his samples and is looking forward to seeing him again one of these days.

Anyway, enough. I am going to track down these 'demned elusive photos'. 'I seek them here, I seek them there, these demned elusive photos.' (apologies to Scarlet Pimpernel!)

Flowers, fine china and marmalade

Girl and poodle with 'pimelia physoides'.

(see below for comment)

Yellow carlton ware 'cottage' with primose

design.

This is a not very good shot (too much light) of my yellow carlton ware bits and pieces of tea set. The figurine in the middle is also yellow, and I couldn't resist putting a sprig of wattle under her arm. The wattle is just beautiful at the moment. Such a lovely, bright sunshiney yellow!

I used to have a large collection of carlton ware, but because it is prone to 'crazing' I very seldom used it. Of course, I have never used these cups or the teapot, just in case they cracked. Never having been seasoned, I dare not, and they will go back into the cupboard. I suppose I should sell them off to someone who might like to enlarge a collection of said ware. I need to think about that! My youngest son is always offering to sell things on ebay for me, but I am not ready to part with a lot of part collections that I have acquired. Ah well, I am determined not to buy a bigger home just so that I can store more. That would also mean my husband storing more 'rubbish' if that happens. (Well, I think a lot of it is rubbish. I mean, who wants 10 year old accounting magazines and receipts etc.? Not me! I can't get my 'stuff' into the filing cabinet now.

I just had to share the beauty of our pimelia physiodes (above) with you. It is a native of Western Australia, but seems to grow very well here in Victoria. We have a lovely example growing in the back garden. Green bell like petals, overlaid with a light burgundy colour, and long yellow stamens. The honey eating birds just love it as it is full of nectar. In fact, our aggressive kamikaze bird and his kin spend a lot of time feeding from these flowers. They bounce around and break pieces off, hence I was able to have a small vase inside. So, I decided to try a bit of fancy photography, again showing one of my embroidered tablecloths, and a figurine that my sister purchased for me last Christmas. It goes well with all the green.

I am busy making blood orange marmalade at the moment. It is bubbling merrily away on the stove and will be for some time yet, as I have to wait for the peel to soften before I can add the sugar. I have always wanted to use blood oranges. I found a recipe in one of my Gourmet Traveller magazines, so it is obviously upmarket jam! A bit like chilli jam I suppose, for being popular with the gourmands of this world! We will see what my end result is! The above photos are those I was complaining about losing in my last post. After much frustration, I finally found the missing photos. Hooray! Blogging is obviously teaching me other things as well.

Well, I am off now to add the sugar to the jam. And hopefully to get outside to do some planting. It is raining and off, quite heavily at times, and it would be good to get plants in so they don't dry out. I am just loving all this rain (yes, I know Some of you have had too much.) But here in Melbourne there is still not enough to boost our water storages to a reasonable level. However....

Did anyone watch Juan Deigo Flores on SBS television yesterday afternoon? He has a glorious voice and I could listen for hours, and do, since we purchased his CD. Also Rolando Vilazon, who was on SBS the week before. He has lost his voice I heard yesterday, and has pulled out of the Salzburg Festival this year, along with several other big names. The commentator wondered if singers said 'yes' too often these days. Once they took weeks to get to a destination, and now they can sing in New York one evening, and be in Milan or Paris to sing the next night. Could be something in that, I suppose. No rest for the vocally gifted these days!

Enough waffle from me! Happy blogging people!!

Ps. A possum raced across the roof last night and scared the living daylights out of me! Sounded like a herd of elephants! The possum strikes back!

More Mildura, pioneers and Dan and the Ducks

T
Scrub and orange grove at Mildura

Feeding the ducks

Well, at the top, a patch of Mallee Scrub and beneath it a citrus grove. Can you imagine looking at that scrub and then visualising a grove of oranges? Not to mention grapevines and vineyards! My mind would have been totally in la la land after months of walking, or bouncing along in a bullock dray, from Melbourne to Mildura in the hope of starting a new life and making a fortune. Ha! I think those early pioneers didn't have much money to spare, if any, and it was hard labour to make the scrub habitable before they could begin their 'farming'. I can't imagine the hardships the women and children must have suffered, but look, here we all are reaping the benefit of the labour and deprivations. The photos were taken in and from the Inland Botanic Gardens. It was lovely to walk along the dirt tracks and pathways, admiring the remnant bush, and the new plantings of many other native plants, not necessarily indigenous to the Mallee. I mean, roses? There is a magnificent rose garden her in Mildura, but of course it wasn't in bloom this time, but many of the native plants were in flower and were delightful. I was pleased to fall into the information centre and have a reviving cup of tea. It was a particularly warm day, but enjoyable for all that.

The bottom photo is of Daniel and me feeding the ducks on the banks of the Yarra River at Warrandyte. Daniel loves to feed the ducks, but doesn't like them at all, as you might be able to tell from the photo. He nearly toppled over the back of the seat, trying to get away from the ducks which he felt were to close for comfort. But if I threw some bread at the birds he became most annoyed and insisted that he wanted to give them the bread. What a circus. He also hated the pigeons which were there for the free lunch, and kept flying to close to him. He did laugh when a duck walked right over a pigeon, nearly squashing it into oblvion. However, the bread ran out and the ducks moved onto the next group of people who looked as though they made be about to dispense largesse!

I just love Warrandyte. It has retained its small village air, depite the encroaching housing developments all around it. The Yarra ambles along, in time with the many walkers who make good use of the walking paths along its banks. It is a very relaxing place to be, despite the number of tourists who go there of a weekend. We tend to go through the week, hen there are not quite so many cars and people. There are lots of lovely little coffee spots and, the most wonderful antique shop, called 'Ratty and Moe's'. (Someone knew their books!) I often browse around the shop and I nearly always find something inexpensive that I am unable to resist, much to Ray's disgust - sometimes! There is also a large playground where both of our youngest grandsons like to play, despite the pigeons that abound near the baker's shop at the edge of the playground. It is a gathering place for young mums and their infants, and becomes quite noisy sometimes. It is also a place where some people insist on tying their dogs whilst they have a coffee. The poor pooches protest loudly everytime someone walks near their owners. Ah well, one must take the good along with the bad. Don't get me wrong. I am fond of dogs, especially well behaved ones.

I am still trying to find the photos I took today to post but......I just know that out there in cyberspace there is a large storage area for lost computer items. You know, the eails that get lost in transit, and phots that are on the computer, but just refuse to be posted to the blog. They probably get together and have wonderful gossip sessions and parties.

It's late, and I am getting a sore neck. I seem to have been on the computer all day, with various things that needed to be done.

Hopefully I can post the latest lot of phots when my 'expert' comes around to help.

Cheers!

Afternoon tea, choir and kamikaze birds

The bush chapel at Mildura Inland Botanic Gardens.

Hi folks,

You are invited to afternoon tea. We had friends in yesterday and I was inspired to take a photo of the table. And have I had trouble getting photos onto this blog! Here is some of my recent china acquisitions, and a hand embroidered table cloth which was worked by my grandmother. I was going to set the table with another cloth she had done, but i couldn't find it. It has beautiful deep red roses embroidered on it. I have turned the house upside down, but no can find! (I am nasty enough to think that my sister may have borrowed it. I will apologise if I happen to find it elsewhere!) However, they were impressed by the pink setting. I cannot resist buying fine china and my collection is still growing. I think it may have to do with growing up in the era of elegant afternoon teas and suppers. My family was not wealthy by any means, just ordinary working class folk, but there was always nice china for afternoon tea, and even at dinner. Practical kitchen china for everyday use, and the fine cups came out each weekend for guests. Our house was always overflowing with visitors, whic in retrospect was very nice. But I suspect it has led to my dislike of crowds. If ever we had staying visitors I was never sure where I might be sleeping at night, because the family always gave up beds to visitors. (Whether I wanted to, or not!) When I was older, and even when I was engaged, I often had to fight my way over sleeping bodies to find my spot to sleep. My family dreamt of mansions, but lived in a very ordinary Victorian cottage. Ah well, that is also probably why I am paranoid about my bedroom space. But the table was always beautifully set in our house. My youngest son calls me Mrs. Bucket, and my dear friend next door sometimes rings and asks 'What's for afternoon tea, Hyacinth?' Honestly, some people seem to be terrified of fine china. I think I should start a movement -'Bring Back the Elegant AFternoon Tea!"

(Thephotos are all over the place, with apologies. I am still not good at placing them. But I think I have worked out where I went wrong.)

Above the afternoon tea photo is me being reflective in the Bush Chapel at Mildura. This is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been too. The birds sing their hymns to the beauty of the day, and the wind swishes an accompaniment as it blows through the trees. Better than any human choir I have ever heard, I can tell you. It is lovely to find these little secluded places in which to take time out. Obviously I wasnt't alone, but himself headed off to take phot[s around the place, after taking this shot. You may be able to discern the rough hewn red gum pulpit at the left back of the phote, in front of the left hand 'pews'. There is also a rough hewn altar which can't be properly discerned here. It would be a lovely place to hold a wedding.

Yes, we finally got away to Mildura. Family dramas interrupted, but himself refused to come home, thank goodness. I am not sure about this role of family matriarch. My own boys are fine, but a dear and close cousin is not but, I am being a good listener, and we cut our holiday short by only one day to come and comfort her.

It was so warm and comfortable in Mildura. It made me realise just how very cold it has been in Melbourne this winter. We spent some time sitting on the banks of the River Murray soaking up sunshine, and watching the paddleboats churn past, and the ducks and pelicans preening themselves. I think pelicans are such graceful birds when in flight. Not so graceful on land, but imposing none the less.

I decided to rejoin the church choir, and am still trying to work out what range my voice has. I started off with the altos until the choir leader told me that I had a nice sporano voice, but I find soprano a bit high. Maybe I am a mezzo? Anyway, I manage to blend in reasonably well with the others until I get to know the tune, then I belt along with the best of them. I haven't yet been told that I am not holding the tune but...I don't think I will become rich and famous by singing! And I do like to sing along with whatever happens to be playing on the radio, or the CD. I love to sing 'Mietta's waltz song' sotto voce, and I adore 'Softly wakes my heart' from Samson and Delilah, and can keep pace with Marilyn Horne until her alto rises a bit too high for me. Well, we all have to try these things, don't we! I can sing the Vera Lynn songs reasonable well, but who wants to hear those these days!! (Me?)

The possum has finally been evicted from our roof. He was too clever by half to get caught in the trap but, the possum catcher conceived a cunning plan and blocked possum's door with rolls of newspaper, then returned an hour after dark and blocked the hole. We had heard the possum leaving his comfy abode, and we heard him trying frantically to get back in but he has now moved on, I hope. We haven't even heard him boot scooting the last few nights. I just love possums, but not in my roof thank you! We still have a kamikaze bird, attacking his reflection in our kitchen window. He began the assault whilst we were overseas, and has continued on, although with a little less frequency at the moment. I don't know whether he has realised he doesn't have competition, or is just exhausted, because I am sure he hasn't been taking time to feed. With our friends coming to afternoon tea yesterday I decided to clean the awful mess off the window, and I must admit that it looked much better, but not long after I had exhausted myself cleaning, my window cleaner arrived and did it all again! Ah well, them's the breaks. The bird has shown renewed frenzy today, simply because his reflection was clearer but hopefully the fascination with self will wear off -SOON!

But, enough. Have a good week. Next time, I will hopefully have sorted out the photos and get them correctly placed.