This final stage of the Festival has encountered flooding rains – again.  Coffs and Bellingen have taken the worst of it – again but I didn’t go to the VENETIAN BOAT PARADE which I had fancied and won’t be trying the TAFE MARKETS today nor, most likely, the STREET PARADE tonight. The Galahs are truly enjoying  themselves and I see that the purple on the trees in the Showground here in Ulmarra is almost done. There’s something poignant in that for me.

One of the ‘disputes’ this year seems to have been over the location of the ‘ commercial ‘ markets and the conclusion came that they went ‘round the corner’ , leaving the main street, PRINCE STREET, to the the businesses and shopkeepers. I almost missed this experience and am very glad I didn’t. I have almost forgotten the time before Commercialism. The time when Street Parades were improvised, ‘local’ and inclined to all manner of adventure and misadventure. 

I should like to travel more and see more places, more towns. There are  subtle differences between towns and communities and I like this town- and would like to see others. They closed the Main Street and the population was  dressed in all flavours of purple and other madnesses. The businesses were the ones who put on acts and shows. I do like walking down streets which are otherwise vehicular.

I was heading up Prince Street, well pleased at the mayhem when we encountered some Emporium acquaintances who directed us to Market Square, where, they informed us, the businesses would be putting on their final performances for the judges. 

ROY BOWLING from Tucabia was making his farewell appearance as Town Crier after Many Years. That had a poignancy for me as well.  I have seen him cracking whips at the Nursing Home Fete. Times pass and memories – particularly some fragile emotional recalls – have been tickling me since I came back down to this Mid North Coast Area in May.

The thought that these people are our Country Energy People is a little challenging. NO ENTRY FEE. No hidden charges. Wonderful. Simple Community Life. In an old newspaper from the NLA ONLINE NEWSPAPERS, I read of an early Tweed River Xmas ( 1800s) where some Gents climbed Mt Warning while the Community partied in a hall at the Sugar Mill in Murwillumbah. the Gents then let off fireworks at midnight from the top of the mountain.

Jaca Day had some of that same heady elixir for me.

Very little political correctness. Crossed and included all the generations. No more than a touch of the generic globalisation.  Home baked cakes and preserves. 

Our CLARENCE VALLEY COUNCIL.  I shall say little more. These links will show more dimensions. Now the rains are here – and yet, I suspect that somehow the Floats will proceed right through town tonight. The flame trees are red. The Jacas had a perfect week as well as behaving ideally for my birthday and all is well on the Clarence. 

I am closing with a few images from WESTLAWN Finances. I did not expect to see a CAN CAN in the middle of MARKET SQUARE – nor the stunning beauty of these girls, their outfits and dance. Splendid !

I like roses. Have done so for a very long time. I called my Company in the 1970s, “THE WHITE ROSE TRADING COMPANY” and I still like them. My sister and brother and brother-in-law, arrived with two huge bundles of roses from the ROSE FARM at HALFWAY CREEK, halfway between Grafton and Coffs Harbour along with a potted miniature white rose. Take a look at the pink and the deep traditional blooms.  BENEFIELD’S ROSE FARM it is.

In the week since the Lazy Weekend in Ulmarra, I have thought about many things. There were things I could have done better or worse, things which could have gone better or worse – what actually happened was a weekend which I now place amongst the happiest of my memories.  A Seal of Approval.

My Mother collected buttons and I have them now. The Mob from Armidale spent hours on the living room floor sorting them into colours but were defeated in the end by time and numbers. Quite a few are back in jars but the remainder is in the big papier mache fruit bowl my brother once gave me.

My sister gave me the spiralling selenite on the left. She tells me that if it were wet enough, long enough, it would dissolve.

Behind it are the books we bought for $9 at a garage sale in South Grafton and which we find to be worth a nice little amount.

A good deal of the things which made this birthday special, were the things which are not ‘special’. The ordinary things of life which are not always there and not often there en masse.

This time, the stage was set, the characters well chosen and ready for their performances and the props and stunts were spot on. The little doings of life – how sweet they are !

We don’t do all that much ‘family’ due to distance but last week we did and then after my flock left, in came Izzy’s brother and his wife. I was feeling a bit at the outer limits of weariness but it was an easy and happy visit as well. Lots of laughter and talking and off they went in the Focker Mobile. Another good one !

Can’t pull the essence of the Weekend out just now. Its something to do with the sum of the parts being greater than the whole.

And some of the parts were :

For the first major occasion in my life in more than 20 years, I have a good man in my life.  The family came from distant places.  Its a grand thing to look up and see your kids arriving. Grandkids and Pregnant Daughters. 

We sat on outdoor furniture in a large backyard. With a Hills Hoist. I had both my siblings here.  Its done.

There were many years when none of these things was in my life. There were many years when – life didn’t seem destined for the good times. 

So when they come, I live well within them.

The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that  hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. Barbara Kingsolver.

Last weekend, I celebrated my 60th birthday. I use the word CELEBRATE very consciously. I am not a natural to CELEBRATION. Not sure as to the precise meaning of the word.  Lets check the  yellow bound dictionary.

to make famous

to honour with solemn ceremonies

to perform with proper rites and ceremonies

from the Latin they say, meaning much visited  or renowned.

I did do a lot of proper rites and ceremonies. I got the nana  tattoo on my ankle, went to the doctor which I rarely do, had a massage, which I rarely do, sent formal invites and indulged in other rites and ceremonies.

I also received a new camera from Izzy and the Armidale MOB with a Crumpler Bag from  Kati B and her IMM. ‘considerable embarrassment’  the Crumpler is called.  The shot on the left is a Mad O’Brian Panorama taken with my new camera.

Unlike me and Izzy, the rest of the family are both sane and cautious with their public profiles. I am writing that because its not lack of love or pride which leads to my not showing you many images of them. Its respect for their privacy.

THEY were, however, here and I was one lucky woman to have my most loved people all with me. As for Photos, I shall provide a background to the Weekend and you can imagine the good-looking people who shared it with me.

Charlie, the 3 legged dog from Armidale seems to be a little camera shy as well.

It was the weekend of the Big Bushfires out at Broom’s Head and along Sandon down towards Wooli. Ulmarra has the Clarence Bushfire  Centre and the Village was packed with Emergency Workers. Each morning , the helicopters landed next door at the Oval and came and went throughout the days. Smoke hung along the Eastern Skyline and the Quiet Accommodation I had booked for my brother and sister turned into a fully occupied residence for the Fireys etc.  Added excitement to the Weekend.

I turn 60 on October 19, 2009.  Ulmarra has developed into a very reflective place for me and so I am taking advantage of introspection as this fortnight passes.

Today, one of my random photographic  wanders through my hyphenated head.

On the left are the parents of my Father. The little lady is ELIZABETH CRAIG, daughter of Thomas Craig and Martha Julian. The seated gentleman is JOHN GEORGE SANDERS.

They married on the Macleay River in Northern NSW. Then lived in Sydney for most of their lives. At Hurlstone Park.

I didn’t meet my grandmother. She died during WWII while my father and his brother were overseas.

For this introspection, I am letting my thoughts hop like grasshoppers – landing where and when they will. I was born in 1949 in Sydney. Summer Hill Sydney and live my childhood in the suburb of Belmore. Summer Holidays we went north to Urunga for 3 weeks at a time. I had a lot of stability and reliable frameworks in which to grow.

It was not until 2001 that I did more than pass through the far north of NSW briefly. In 2001, I moved to the Tweed River and lived there till May 2009. It was only last year, 2008, that I began to discover the presence of the BELL family on the Tweed in the 1850s-60s.

I am not one who enjoys the wearing of beanies and thick socks.

I wasn’t raised on the Aussie BBQ. I think we had ‘PICNICS’ when I was little. ‘PICNICS’ have their own unique beauties and travails. The one on the left is a combo. BBQ and Picnic out at GARA GORGE.

Gara Gorge is the site of Australias commerical Hydroelectric scheme in 1894 which can be viewed from the Threlfall Walk.

Location

Castledoyle Road

Website

www.nationalparks.nsw.gov.au

Gara Gorge is locally referred to as the Blue Hole and is located 16kms from Armidale along the Castledoyle Road. Gara Gorge is a popular picnic and barbecue spot. It is well known for its scenic bush strolls and beautiful swimming holes. It is also the site of Australia s first commercial Hydro-electric Scheme. The remains of this historic scheme can be viewed today, via the Threlfall Historic Walk. No camping is permitted at Gara Gorge.

Please call in at the Armidale Visitor Information Centre for further information on National Parks.

Directions: Take the Waterfall Way east out of Armidale and turn right into Castledoyle Road, following the signs to Gara Gorge. Continue straight ahead at the intersection into Blue Hole Road for a further 2.5 km. There is a short stretch of gravel into the gorge.

My introduction to the New England which took me, as a Coastal Woman, past my natural resistance, did show me places I had not seen before. Took me into BIG SKY COUNTRY and even to LYNLAND.

I do keep a bag of clothing up there in Armidale. Clothes which I have not needed in my 8 years on the Tweed where winters are warm.

I don’t like the GOLD COAST. I am glad to have left there. I DID like parts of the Tweed River although “progress” is eating at its spirit as well. 

Living there  was a ‘temporary’ thing.  A ‘diversion’ of some kind. It was a detour which at times seemed to me to be very much along the ‘wrong’ road. At other times, I was able to learn from it, rest within it and simply wait  for a Caravan to come along , hoist me onto a camel’s back and lead me out of there and across the deserts to a new home.

I lived for a period of time , in Tumbulgum, a small village on the Tweed. In 2008, I discovered it was the homeplace of the aforementioned relatives in the 1850s-60s. The BELLS, the MACLEODS. Grandfather John Bell was there with his wife, Mary Ann McNeill and the children.

I then moved to Bilambil , an even smaller village nearby. I moved onto the property of the Bulpitts and lived in BILAMBIL COTTAGE, where I encountered much kindness and stability.

We also had a few BBQs there in the BILAMBIL COTTAGE.

I have also spent a good deal of time involved in activities which mean very little to me. That’s something I want to pay attention to and do less of. For a time, I did little of that. Then, when the MOB went west I began to FILL my time a little less thoughtfully and found myself  BORED. I don’t often get ‘bored’ at home but I DO get bored doing things I would prefer not to be doing. That needs some looking at.

One of the things I am gradually missing is the sheer exotic subtropical beauty of the Bilambil Cottage.  Those of us who MOVE a lot, well we get benefits others don’t – but we also have sorrows others don’t. Not even true nomadics or Sundowners – just movers-on and evictees. 

I would struggle to name or number the places in which I have lived in 60 years and they are all contained on the east Coast with only some brief  ventures slightly inland to Canberra, Tumbarumba and Armidale. The only cities I have lived in are Sydney and Brisbane.

I have , however, lived on the Hill in Bilambil, with the sun rising of a morning.

Now, I sleep in an old wooden room with curtains and the sun rises on the other side of the house, way east of here.

My Kids are grown and I have 2 granddaughters and another grandchild  due in January 2010.  Tomorrow I am getting the Nana  Tattoo from South Grafton Tattoo parlour. I went for a tattoo way back in about 1969 in Kings Cross. I didn’t get one that day and I haven’t had one since so tomorrow is significant – TO ME. It was that or University for the first time. That might still come. They were both on my list for 60.

One of my children, the younger one, likes to take photos of flowers, amongst other things. These blossoms are up in Armidale in A November.

Sitting here this afternoon, pondering – when the clouds come over and now HAIL.   So far, it has been , since May -

FLOODS , SMOKE, DUST AND HAIL.  Interesting times indeed. There IS a rainbow across the paddocks.

I am trying to reflect on earlier times and places and to locate myself on the  North Coast.  Each photo I stumble across seems to lead me back up into the mountains to the Armidale Clan and the Cold Places. I did like being in Armidale, highest city in Australia, when the roses came out in January and the perfumes  scented the streets.

Its  coming on for darkness now in the first week of this year’s daylight saving. There  is some hail damage to Izzy’s Starwagon and the house seems to be off one of his stumps which is a little worrying. The Charade is under the house where I managed to get it while the hail hit.

Across the way, the paddocks are white from the ice mists rising. It has a suggestion of the way it looked in the May Floods.

Out back, the shed copped the worst of it. That’s because of the derelict iron roofs and gaps half a metre wide . The peach tree has been stripped of 100s of little peaches and the azalea which I thought would be in fine bloom for the party is now shredded.

I lived in Bilambil Cottage from 2005 – 2009. Quite a long time for me.  For ne year of that time, I spent the weekdays and nights in Brisbane and came home on weekends.  For the first year, 2005-2006, or so, I lived there alone. My father passed away during that time and my granddaughter was born in Tweed heads Hospital.

At the Cottage, I was on the Hill looking East to the Coral Sea. The Whiskey Grass grew and shone with its own curious redness. My friend, Nicci, calls it molasses grass.  The reasons are the same. The wagons which transported goods way back in the 19th century, carried the seeds in their wheels and spread them beside the roads.

One thing I have done for a lot of my life is sit at windows and LOOK OUT.  I usually sit at a desk and WRITE. Way back, it was in Belmore at a desk my Dad built for me. It had its own fluorescent light above it. Must have been a new concept because I was very thrilled. He gave me a book of Greek Legnds at the same time and I thought the two things were the best ever to happen to me.

Since then, I have sat at many windows and looked out on many things.  Today, I sit up in an attic and look South over the paddocks to where my family lives . Not that I can see them. One is an hour and half south  and one is 2 1/2 hours SW up in the mountains. Nevertheless, when I sit at this window, they are what I see – way past the cows and the farmhouses and the hail left from this afternoon’s storm.

JIM BELSHAW COVERS THE HAILSTORM.

EMA STATS

STORM CHASERS

YOUTUBE ON THE HAIL

UNE ON THE STORM OF 2006

A few years back, 2006 as I recall, I took the Countrylink Train from Tweed Heads to Grafton, hopped the Moree Coach up the Gwydir Highway to Glen Innes.  The MOB picked me up at the Information Centre and we headed back down the New England Highway to Armidale. Quickly. Due to Clouds and strangely dark skies. Near Guyra we were stopped by a police car ‘slewing’ to a halt across the Highway and re-directing us round fallen wires. We had already sheltered from one hailstorm under a garage en route. Off we went round the back roads on mud and dirt with the stream of highway traffic following us. It was a noble job of driving by the Wee Lass.

Once we reached Armidale we were faced with the damage caused by a huge storm.

Here’s a few links which might tell you a little. Christmas , it was and we were all a little shell shocked methinks.

ARMIDALE HAIL 2006

HAIL ON THE AGE

I can’t quite recall where this house is . It is one of the great aunts and uncles. It is also someplace on the North  Coast of NSW. It looks too steep for the Laurieton houses and could be Uncle Jim at Wingham.  That’s my Poppa Bell holding the child. I think thats my cousin Ross Carter in his arms.  That puts the Photo in app. 1950-51.

Here’s the road to Bilambil Cottage and that’s my wee cottage at the end of the drive. Once, my children’s brother noted that I “ always lived in postcards” and this was one of the beautiful ones.

There is ice in our yard this evening and most of the peaches have been ruined. There was ice in the yard when my children’s father turned 50 a few years back. It wasn’t from hail. It was a July Birthday in Armidale and the birds were out of luck.

In 2007, I lived from time to time in Brisbane, a city I knew next to nothing about.  I rather liked Brisbane but one thing I know about it now is that parts of Brisbane are HILLY. We lived in Red Hill and did some pretty bigtime walking. Morris Street near Paddington Woolies is a street where Izzy lived way back in 1970 just prior to attempting a one stage drive back to Sydney which left him floating in the Manning River at Taree.

With sleep approaching on the eve of my first tattoo,  I shall leave you with the view from a jetplane flying out of Coolangatta and heading South to Sydney in 2006. That’s Kingscliff and the mouth of the Tweed River down below. I feel a little clipped of wing at the moment – ah but the SAAB flies in and out of Grafton Airport so we shall see.

Sleep Well.