For a summer fruit, they’re doing very nicely – despite the crisp autumnal Canberra chill.
Over time, I’ve been experiencing a slow shift with respect to what, where and to whom I’m paying attention. An imperceptible change in priorities from day to day. Which will (has? is?), eventually over a long period, become a fairly seismic shift in perception. Hence, my absence from this blog. So far, it’s mostly been internal. And in all likelihood, is likely to lead to external changes. It’s been liberating, and exciting at times, but also, frankly, terrifying. Only time will tell where it will lead me!
In the meantime, I’m back in Melbourne for a week and enjoying family, old (and new) friends and the general urban(e)-ness of my home town. And the occasional buttery toasted currantey goodness of hot cross buns!
A safe and happy Easter, all.
It’s summertime. And there’s nothing better than gadding about in the great urban outdoors, taking afternoon naps or putting up one’s feet and retiring with a book and the occasional snack.
Currently reading: Brideshead Revisited
Currently savouring: a home made pandan flavoured macaron
In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it Christmas and went to church; the Jews called it Hanukkah and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say ‘Merry Christmas!’ or ‘Happy Hanukkah!’ or (to the atheists) ‘Look out for the wall!
– Dave Barry, Christmas Shopping: A Survivor’s Guide
(with thanks to whiskeyriver)
Wow. The last year seems to have passed by in a flash. Suddenly, it’s the week before Christmas. Again.
As a practising (but struggling) minimalist, it’s a chance to lash out and purchase beautiful things for loved ones.
And to reflect on the year about to end, and the new one about to begin.
Not to mention an excuse to eat copious numbers of mince pies, enjoy bad music and pad about in pyjamas for elongated periods of time (joy!). And get all sentimental and nostalgic with friends and family at home.
Merry Christmas and safe, happy holidays to all!
(Image from Charley Harper Colours)
I love January in Australia. Christmas and the New Year might be over, but it’s still summer. The days are long, and hot and spending it in a pool or in a cinema are the only real options to escape the heat. The muted sounds of cricket and/or the tennis on the television provide a comforting drone in the background. And when the evening creeps up, accompanied by the cool change you’ve been waiting for all day, you joyfully throw open the windows to let in the breeze. The warm temperature, that summery, holiday vibe has even permeated my office. There are still plenty of things to do but they’re getting done in a slightly more relaxed manner.
A few random photos from the weekend. Literally, a basketful of apricots from our tree which caused an intense six hour jam-making session on the part of a housemate. The resulting apricot jam. The film Gainsbourg. Apricots, nectarines, muesli and Greek yoghurt for breakfast.
Oh, and I’m a little obsessed with Serge Gainsbourg now. Beirut’s rendition of La Javanaise is particularly fab.
As a salon du thé, it has been rather paltry in the drinks department of late. Here are some photos to make up for it.
From my recent excursion to the Big Smoke (aka Sydney).
Busy-ness, so alien to me for a year or so, has raised her frantic head once.
Without doubt, work has been the main culprit, swallowing up huge swathes of my time of late. As has a new motivation to improve my fitness levels in the form of pilates and cycling. Long, extended hours at work and in a fitness studio have been compounded by a couple of interstate trips (one for business, one for pleasure).
I’ve been fighting the grey fog of exhaustion and lack of sleep for weeks now. It seems like years since I’ve had all the time in the world to read, draw, sleep in, reflect and dream.
But this weekend, I managed to do just a little of that.
Floriade is a garden event that happens every spring in Canberra. Fabulous, I thought, it’ll be like the Chelsea Garden Show! A myriad of garden designers and landscape artists competing to take the prize for most fabulously sustainable living breathing gorgeous creation possible within a 10x8m plot!
But no. There are lots of entertainers doing shows, and ferris wheels, and lots of food and free wine tasting, and a petting zoo, and umbrellas in trees full of sleeping fruit bats. And even a big fat kookaburra watching proceedings. But there was no garden competition. Just beds and beds of wonderful tulips, and pansies, and other flora whose names I am unfamiliar with; scarlets and lavendars and dusky purples and bright gorgeous fuschias.
We took a picnic of marinated anchovies, marinated artichoke hearts, wafer thin slices of proscuitto, pitted kalamata olives, green olive ciabatta, crackers, comte cheese, old telegraph (a ridiculously pungent (and yummy) melting brie), some crumbly, nutty merseyside and a tasty bottle of reisen and whiled away the bright, sunny, warm afternoon. And after a studied bout of wine tasting, finished off our time at Floriade with a coffee and a beautiful lemon tart.