I am starry eyed and vaguely discontented....

So goes the song 'It might as well be spring' and boy, ain't it the truth! I would like to be able to divert my spring fever to something more practical, but I am too busy meandering amongst the flowers and planning massive changes to the garden. It might well involve some statuary and very tall tubs, and himself being very busy! (Dream on!)
Just as a reminder that 'sumer is acumin' in....'
we had a new air conditioner installed this morning. It is an evaporative one, and I wonder how long it will be before the govt. says we can't use that extra water. Never. the electrician assured me, because if we all converted to refrigerated air conditioners the national electric grid would not cope with all the extra call on power. So nobody is saying anything. Hmm. Damned if we do, damned if we don't!
If you look hard, you might see some disembodied little globe shapes, yellowish, as I tried to get a picture of our absolutely loaded to the ground, lemon tree. (In the middle, just above the hop bush.) It has been wonderfully bountiful this season, so much so that I can't even give them away, so I guess everybody else has had the same bounty. I have juiced the fruit, grated the skin and popped it into the freezer for later use when lemons are a tad scarcer. I did read that one can put the whole fruit into the freezer and use the juice, but I think it might destroy the rind. Make it to wet to grate. I would make lemonade if the boys were still here, but I suppose that is a no no these days as there is just so much sugar in it to counteract the acidity of the lemons. (Which I quite enjoy, and no.2 son eats lemons like we would eat oranges. But not mine because the shop brought ones are better! Never mind that they are probably cheap imports for which he is paying a lot of money, and weeks old by the time they hit the shelves in the super market. I really must work on the grandchildren so that they always like home grown better. Any lemon recipes out there, apart from lemon meringue pie, marmalade and cakes? I suppose the pies would freeze, but then I would have to find the correct containers for storage. (We should all have such minute problems!)
The hop bush is holding its lovely soft red colour, and to the left the geraldton wax bush has just come into flower. I can't believe how beautiful and colourful the gardens have been this spring, and I am hoping it is not a last burst before everything dies of thirst. (Oh, dreadful thought!). Victoria is still parched and desperately in need of rain (as many of you will know!). And today, there is a very strong, warm north wind blowing, which is drying the already dry earth even more so! At least the washing is dry already!

Below is a photo of the kamikaze noisy miner that keeps attacking the kitchen window. He is recuperating his strength for another attack by sipping the nectar in the grevillea. He was so busy I was able to creep close enough to catch the blighter on camera. Fat lot of good it did me! He was back with a vengeance yesterday, and had the nerve to bring a couple of mates along to get rid of what he sees as an intruder. I hope they were able to tell him it was his own reflection! (Some hope!) I have been checking the bird book, and he is just as horrid as I have always thought



Problem at the moment is that he and his kind have gone forth and multiplied, so we have a new crop of juveniles coming along, who will soon be learning to attack my kitchen window, no doubt. I do wish they would all move on! The book says that during the nesting season these birds produce a lovely song at sunrise. I haven't really heard anything special, despite sometimes waking up at that time. I maybe don't believe there is anything at all nice about these birds, aggressive, nasty beasts that they are. He looks as though butter wouldn't melt, doesn't he!

I just had to post this photo of the only flower on our tree paeony. Isn't it delicate? I have visions of eventually having a tall tree smothered
in these beautiful blooms. When I lived in Kyneton in my early teens, we had 'ordinary' paeonies which grew at the front of our house. They were a magnificent, double petalled, deep burgundy colour. If I was lucky, my Nan would sometimes allow me to take a small bunch to school, to decorate our form room, thereby winning points for our form each week. Do children still do this I wonder? Or has this sort of competition vanished along with all other competitiveness!
It was the same at chrysthanthemum time. We had a massive growth of autumn toned flowers which were magnificent. We used to nearly always win the form room comp. at certain times of the year. There was usually a chocolate frog, or a packet of sweets from a very pleased form teacher. The simple joys of country life in the 50s!

And after all that, perhaps a cup of tea might go down well. I thought we might try outdoors this time, but it is a bit blowy today. Never mind, it is reasonably sheltered near the house and the perfume of the hyacinths is delightful. I thought you might like to try my Nan's shortbread recipe, which she had from her mother and her grandmother before her. I suspect it is a recipe that came out from Cumbria with my great great grandparents in 1852. So I don't really know how old it is, but it is just so simple!

Nan's Shortbread.

1lb plain flour (500 gms)

10 ozs butter (310 gms) ?

4 ounces sugar (125 gms)

Method

Cream butter and sugar then add flour and stir until all blended. Knead lightly on floured board. Cut shortbread into four pieces and roll out rounds onto a tray. Pinch edges and mark into 8 pieces and prick with a fork. Of course, you can roll flatter and cut out whatever shape you want. Bake in a slow oven until just coloured. The original recipe said 15-20 minutes, but it varies.

(Absolutely delicious!)

Please note the absence of rice flour in this recipe. I suppose it could be added, but it would be impossible to mix the ingredients. I tend to melt the butter to very soft then add the other ingredients. It is much easier then to mix in the flour (and to knead and roll). Cheating I know, but it doesn't alter the flavour one whit!

One can add chopped glace ginger, choc chips or macadamia nuts if desired. Me, I tend to like just plain shortbread.

So, bake and enjoy this very old recipe.

Cheers to everybody!

Just some nice things and a recipe

Firstly, an invitation to tea and a chance to try my very favourite biscuit (cookie) recipe. The recipe was published in Melbourne's Herald Sun in 1992 - so I have been making them for a long time now. It doesn't seem as though I have been baking them for 15 years though! (Ouch!)

BASIC BISCUIT RECIPE.

Melt 4 ozs. butter or margarine,
Add 3/4 cup of sugar, 1 egg, 1 1/2 cups of self raising flour, 1 teaspoon vanilla.
Mix and use.

Lack of imagination is all that can limit what you can do with this recipe.
It can be rolled and used as pastry for jam tarts, raspberry slice, apple slice.
(For raspberry slice, line lamington tin with pastry, and spread with layer of raspberry jam and top with coconut, egg white and sugar mix. For apple slice, roll out as base, add stewed apple and top with another layer of pastry)
Biscuits:
Roll out and cut into shapes (stars, crescents, rounds. Place on oven tray and top with cherries, or walnuts.
For drop biscuits:
Omit some of the flour and make up with custard powder. Drop onto tray and flatten with a fork. When cooked join together with butter icing. (Yo-Yos)
Coconut and chopped glace cherries.
Choc chips and chopped macadamia or pecan nuts.
Diced glace ginger, and ginger powder, These are delicious sandwiched together with lemon butter icing.
Choc chips and sultanas.
Peanut butter and peanuts.
Cocoa powder and coconut.
All of the above are baked in a moderately hot over, for approximately 17 mins.

As I said, only your imagination can limit what you do with this basic mix.
Bake and enjoy, folks.


Here is a picture of some of my very favourtie Portmeirion pottery. We went to the little town of Portmerion some years ago, and I thought that this was where the pottery was made. It wasn't of course, but it was on sale in their shop. (All they have 'made' here is the series The Prisoner, with Patrick McGoohan. I wonder how many of you remember that series. I actually hired a couple of videos after our first visit, and enjoyed seeing the town all over again. Trouble was, it was a black and white series.)
The pottery is made at Stoke on Trent of course, and each trip to England has included a visit to the factory shop for some purchases which have been sent home and usually arrived some time after we got home. For someone who loves fine china, I really do like this ware. It is so cheerful. If you look hard, you will see that I have a matching rolling pin in the bowl, which I was lucky enough to purchase at a garage sale in Essex, or it may have been Suffolk. I didn't notice when we changed from one county to the other. When I made 'oh look' noises, my cousin did a u turn and back we went. The lady was selling quite a bit of Portmerion, including three rolling pins. She had decided that she really couldn't use them all and had a fourth one for her own use. I have never seen one in Australia, so I was quite chuffed.
The pottery also brings back happy memories of sitting in the dining room of a b & b in Yorkshire, overlooking a ruined castle which was one of Richard 111s favourite homes and eating breakfast from Portmerion pottery, my very first experience of it. And yes, I am a Riccardian. I don't believe for a moment that he murdered the prines in the tower. That was Henry v11! I continue to collect this pottery, because they are always bringing out new designs, some of which I like and buy, others which I find a tad clumsy and don't buy.

To the right is a view of the front of our property, as it is just now. I think I said in another blog that we are about to landscape this front bit. You can see where a couple of smallish trees have been removed. All those little rocks will be taken
away as part of the new work. We expect a
delivery of BIG rocks and soil in a week or so, and then the landscaper will get busy arranging them. So, in a few weeks, I should be able to show you a much improved front of property.

I was gazing out of my kitchen window the other morning, admiring the pink blossom on the prunus tree, and as I watched the petals began to drift gently down, just like pink snow, and I couldn't help thinking how transient this beautiful spring can be. Theprunus seems to hold its blossom just for long enough to admire, before suddenly being replaced with burgundy coloured leaves, which are very pretty too. I then began to sing (well, sort of) the old Nat King Cole hit 'A blossom fell...' I came over all nostalgic and decided that I really should hunt out all those old records and start playing them again. Or I might even have them transposed to CD and then I won't have to turn them over to play the other side. I was also reminded of that lovely scene in the film 'Carousel' where the blossoms were drifting off the trees and Gordon MacRae and Shirly Jones were working up to singing 'If I loved you.'
And on that nostalgic note, I am going to take myself off and see what I can do to annoy his peaceful self, who is drowsing in his chair.
And yes, Gina, I did take the photo of the kookaburra. Would you like a copy?

Roaming the ranges

Above is a photo of a brown boronia megastima. It is one of our most insignificant flowers, as you can see. Small brown round bells growing in masses along the stems of the shrub. The inside of the flowers are a deep mustard yellow colour. You could easily pass it by on a ramble, except suddenly your senses are overpowered by one of the sweetest perfumes on this earth. Even if only one flower is open, it tends to scent the air around. Perfumiers have tried for many years to emulate the beautiful perfume, but it just can't be done. There are many boronia scented products around, but it is not like the natural perfume. These days boronias also come in green and purple. The perfume is still strong and beautiful, but this is the original of course. This is one of several that grow around our garden, and it really is a case of 'spring is in the air'.

epacris impressa.

The above plant is the stae emblem of Victoria.

' I know a bank whereon the wild clematis grows,

Where correas and the nodding boronia blows,

Quite overcanopied with eaucalypt and banksia,

With sweet bursaria and epacris impressa.'

I have to apologise to the great Will Shakespeare for the above parodyof his verse in Midsummer Night's dream, but honestly, our banks of wildflowers are just a delight to see. The wild epacris is in two shades of pink and there is a white one. They were growing along all the embankments on both sides of the Melba Highway when we drove up to Kinglake today. It had started off a lovely sunny day, but gradually degenerated into grey and very cold. It didn't stop me from taking photos though. At one stage we were driving along through the bush, admiring wattles and epacris and various other native plants, including the occasional grevillea. Suddenly a large brown bird, with a long draggin tail flashed across the highway - yes - a lyrebird, which disappeared into the bush alongside the road. Himself stood on the brake, and I dived out of the car to see if I could see the elusive bird.

It popped out of the bush just as I stepped forward and the noise startled it back into cover. I stood around for ages, camera poised, but never saw the bird again. I certainly heard him singing in his imitative style though. It is nice to know that these birds can still be seen, if only as they flash across in front of cars. This bird did not become a road fatality, as some do.

We then drove into de Bortoli's winery, just so that I could photograph the view back towards Yarra Glen, so that you can see how lovely the rolling valley and hills can be, despite the dark sky. The vines are marching in straight rows towards the shadow on the hill, not even in leaf at this time of the year, but the prospect was still rather beautiful.

This part of Melbourne was settled originally by Scottish migrants, some of whom came for gold, and others who decided to settle because the scenery was reminiscent of Scotland. Not so much now of course, but I can imagine how it must have been in the early 1800s.

Gulf Station, a bit closer to Yarra Glen was built by a Scottish family, who lived there for many years, and actually built a small school for the local children on their property. The property is now owned by our National Trust, and is fascinating to look around, especially the early timber farmhouse. They have farm animals on display, including the wonderful shire horses. My little boys love the horses, and the ducks, and especially
the pigs. Lovely, large black pigs, who will no doubt have a litter by now, so I must take the boys up to investigate. There are also cows, and on special days they have demonstrations of how the old time farmer used to plough, and a blacksmith making wares etc. Well worth a day trip when these things are happening.

The picture to the right is another taken at de Bortoli's just across the way from the restaurant. Have you been to the restaurant? The chef creates the most delicious Italian cuisine, interspersed with dishes that could come from anywhere in Europe. I especially like the creme brulee dessert. The wines are very good as well.

In fact folks, I love every part of the Yarra Valley, and will be out and about taking more photographs over the next few weeks, just so that you can see how very lush and well endowed with wonderful wineries and restaurants this part of our state is. I like nothing better than to breakfast at Chateau Yering on any morning of the week. We usually save it for a special occasion like a birthday, anniversary or a getting together with infrequently seen friends. Balloons take off from the paddocks opposite the Chateau and then the balloonists come into the dining room for breakfast. I like watching the balloons come down, never being early enough to see them go up!

Hmm! I think I will go and plan several day outings for me and him where we can take in the scenery and the good food and wine.

Will keep you posted.

Cheers

Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree....

Here is a lovely shot of Eastern beach, Geelong, taken on a lovely suny day. Doesn't it make you want to race down and have a swim. The photo was taken from the Geelong Botanical Gardens on a sunny winter's day, in July. Our garden group had gone to look at the Australian Dry Garden (ho.hum!) I had seen it several times before so take myself off for a short walk and some photograpy.
Eastern Beach Geelong

Jordan and Harrison looking at the kookaburra in his tree.

Here is the fellow they were looking at, in all his feathery glory. They do like to get up close and personal, these birds.

The idea is to take along some bread or something that they might like to snack on, and they will sometimes even out of your hand.

Nicholas, Daniel, Grandad and I had the experience of them being a bit too close and personal.

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,

Now he has his foot in my cup of tea.....

That is exactly what happened. A friend had told us about the scavenging birds, and so off we set with our picnic basket and thermos just to see what would happen. We each had our drink, and a scone (biscuit) and some biscuits (cookies) and were happily munching when a whirr of wings and a squawk announced the arrival of the first of several birds. The beady eye was fixed on a scone, and before the boys had a chance to even blink, the kookaburra had snatched the scone from Daniel's hand. But that wasn't enough. Nicholas and Grandad were smart enough to gobble their scones down, and I managed to hide mine under my hand - I thought. Next thing the bird was sitting on my cup, one foot in the tea and staring beadily at my hand. 'I can see you've got food and I am not moving until you give it to me" was his attitude. Eventually I broke off a bit of scone and the bird deigned to take it from my hand, but sat on waiting for me. Eventually I gave in, and he very kindly removed himself from my cup and onto the table, searching around for more, and eyeing everybody suspiciously until he was convinced that there was no more food, at which stage he flew into the gum tree just behind us, and announced with a great chortle that he had fooled the humans again. The boys were beside themselves with excitement. Daring to try to swim in grandma's cuppa was not the way to go!

Unfotunately Harrison and Jordan were unable to get quite this close and personal with the birds. They did get to hear them go off into peals of raucous laughter.

Apple blossom time, Melbourne on the Yarra and Galahs

It's not quite apple blossom time here in Australia. The above picture was taken in Spring in England, at Snowshill Manor in the Cotswolds to be precise. But, of course, our own apple blossom will be just as beautiful in a few weeks time. I was discovering how good the digital camera was for taking 'portraits' of flowers, which I have never been able to do on my old camera, well, not this clearly anyway.

I have been into the city today, and was so disgruntled by the time that I arrived, that I thought I'd best hunt out some photos to remind myself that Melbourne is usually quite beautiful on a sunny day. This is actually from last February, towards the end of one of our very hottest summers, which seemed to go on forever, and was still warm after we returned from colder climes on the 1st May. Mind you, we were in England during the warmest April on record. The 18 degree heat was beautiful after our run of high 30s before we went away.

However, I was disgruntled because I chose to go into the city by train, and I was surrounded by people, four of whom were talking very loudly into the mobile phones, in four different languages. Sorry folks, but I don't need to hear your business on the train. I was trying to read, as I know the passing scenery as well as I know anything, and peace and quiet should have been the order of the day. People shouting on the assumption that those on the other end of the telephone were deaf, and someone had the nerve to share their music with us. Not for long, thank goodness, because I was feeling quite murderous at having my trip so disrupted.

Today, Melbourne was not at all as I expect it to be. Crowds of people wandering aimlessly around and getting in my way. I am always amazed at how one person, one mind you, can take up and entire footpath. It is almost as if they have a rear vision mirror just so that they can step into my pathway as I try to dodge by. As you can see, Melbourne on the Yarra really is quite a
pretty place. People enjoying themselves in the sunshine, watching the passing parade. From this angle it is not a towering city and looks as though it should be comfortable.

The above photo is looking back towards Princes Bridge and the city. Along the Yarra, especially on the opposite bank is a great place to be on a pleasantly warm sunny day. Lots of attractions, and many, many wonderful restaurants looking out over the water. You can just make out some of the small ferries and water craft that will take you sailing along the river, or around the bay to Williamstown, another good place for restaurants.

Galahs feeding in our garden The above picture was taken towards the end of last summer, and we had to race out and take photos with our new toy (the digital). The galahs had been hanging around in flocks all summer, obviously in the hope of seed and water. They had spent some time in the gum trees, nipping the flower buds and seed pods off. They are nearly as bad as the cockatoos - of which we had many last summer - for chomping flowers off. If you happen to stand under a tree as they are feeding, one is freely showered with flowers, pods and sometimes something nasty. We all kow the expression 'ya stupid galah' but frankly, these birds are very smart, as are all birds I think (except our stupid kamikaze noisy miner which is still attacking the kitchen window) but I suppose there is always an exception to the rule of smart! Nature certainly gave the galah a lovely colour combination. Their grey, pink and white is delightful when a flock settles in a bare tree.

I was reading one of Kerry Greenwood's Phryne Fisher novels the other day, and this description was very apt for how I was feeling just at that time.'....rummaging furiously
in a mind which appeared to have entirely lost its card index' D'you ever have one of those days? I have more than I like these days, so the coming trip to the West is starting to look pretty good.

Happy days.

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.