The End of Summer

I meant to post this ages ago, as Summer died and Autumn reminded us that Perth had temperatures lower than 40°C.

The seasons are turning, Summer into Autumn, with the Easter weekend providing a promise of rain and storms to rejuvenate the garden.

The Council in their infinite wisdom and eagerness to kill the grass in the storm-water drain, forgot to take the wind into consideration and succeeded in killing one of our favourite bankias. It is being replace, by us, because we feel its loss dreadfully.

Gingerbread biscuits

I got my very first cookbook when I was about six. It was a big bright book with recipes for cupcakes, house sandwiches and pizza faces and was called 'Busy Little Cook'.

It also had the best gingerbread recipe, and so while the book is now in three pieces, and covered in ground ginger and flour it still maintains its place among the other recipe books.

With renewed vigour.

I must admit, in recent years, I'd forgotten the joy of witty banter.

I remember it from years ago, from school: the fast retorts intended to wound... if only slightly. The ripples of expectation of reaction to action. The biting barbs muttered under my breath that everyone still heard. The resulting laughter...

Hugs and Kisses for the New Year.

I usually have a bit of a dilemma around Australia Day as I like fireworks, but hate the unAustralian behaviour that manifests itself amongst the crowds who populate the South Perth foreshore. 

All too thankfully the family discovered the City of Canning Fireworks a good many years ago, and now all is right with the world. We missed them last year being in Europe, but got to see them in 2014, so I was looking forward to them this year. 

Oh Christmas Tree

It's been a couple of years since my last Christmas tree - last year we were in Seville, and the year before, with Mum galavanting off in Europe with my sister, Dad and I couldn't really be bothered.
This year however I decided I needed something.

It may have been the Christmas cheer of a work colleague rubbing off on me, or simply the fact that there weren't any Christmas decorations up when I arrived at the house I'm house sitting (not that I'm complaining).

Botanical update

I haven't written an update on Mum's garden in quite a while. Things have happened and the garden has rippled through the phases of its life with very little drama.
Things grow, things get severely pruned, things get mulched, things surprise Mum by erupting into a mass of beautiful flowers when she thought they never would, or were on their last legs.

A new wardrobe - potentially.

I spent the last week cat-sitting up near Joondalup and was delighted to discover that the Textile Traders up that end of the world was having a 'moving' sale. Even better than that though was the fact that the fabrics on special were the printed cottons that work perfectly for the 1950s and '60s dresses that I am currently partial to.

So, over a couple of visits I may have just bought an entirely new wardrobe for myself.

Ikea Skirt

The renovation of the family beach shack has meant that we've ended up at Ikea on more than one occasion. If not buying various bits and pieces, then at least looking at and chosing bits and pieces to buy at a later date when we are able to cart them home or have the room in the shack to store them until we have time to assemble them.

As always, this meander through the store includes a short stop in the fabric department (yes, Ikea sells fabric by the metre). This is where we found the fabric for the shack's curtains and more recently where I found the fabric for this amazing skirt:

The Island of Delos

17 July 2012

My week touring the Greek islands didn't feel complete without a visit to Delos, one of the small islands off Mykonos. 

Once the centre of the political world, it is now an archaeological reserve with ruins as far as the eye can see, and unfortunately, acres of dry grass that obscured various monuments, murals and carved marble remains. Progress is slowly being made in clearing away this organic matter, but given the size of the site and the state of the Greek economy, this will take a while. In the interim, one requires a good camera, a better imagination and an appreciation of the bits that are visible. 

Met Opera - Aida

A screening of Verdi's opera Aida was showing at Luna Palace this past weekend, and with Mum keen to see it, we wandered down to Fremantle for the afternoon session.

Aida is a Verdi opera sang in Italian and set in Ancient Egypt. It centres around a love triangle of Aida, Ethiopian Princess and slave to the Egyptian Princess Amneris, Amneris and the Egyptian General Radames. Aida and Radames love each other and consequently lose all common sense, and Amneris loves Radames but not enough to let him be happy even if she is not. Aida's father, King of Ethiopia mounts a battle to rescue her from Egypt, and Radames thinks that leading the Egyptians into battle, routing the Ethiopians and killing their king will win him Aida's love.
Like I said, common sense went out the window before the curtain even rose.