ACQUIRED ON XMAS NIGHT 2010.
TO ALL OF YOU, I WISH A HAPPY CHRISTMAS. ITS BEEN A PLEASURE HAVING YOU WITH ME ALL YEAR.
Samara Flynn, Age 12
Grafton Public School, Grafton NSW
IN RALEIGH HO HO
The Sail Urunga Party was a casual affair at the local Scouts’ Hall. Salads and BBQ ( vegeterians catered for). It was held at Lunchtime following the morning’s sailing on the Bellinger River.
For the BOAMBEE BLOKES’ party it was casual evening and the classy OCEAN NOIR restaurant at Coffs Jetty. Parties are not a natural element of mine but I find them interesting.
The rains have been and frightened us all. Rains including flooding in the West. The snow has come down South and Cold up in Armidale and wild winds have blown. Now the sun is shining and the cattle are in the front paddock. I have continued my studies of Christmas and also loaded the living room with a multitude of assembled madness. Ah! And I have also done Christmas Carols in Urunga.
The jacarandas have lost their flowers and the magnolias along North Bank Road are wilting a little. With only a few days until Christmas Day, I shall look back over the month and some more of the elements of Christmastime.
I have continued with my studies during the week. The TREE began to take my attention. I considered the Spectrum of Family Preferences, went shopping with Kati B in Coffs Harbour. This year, due to the baby in the House, she opted for a small table top DOUGLAS FIR. The MOB in Armidale was compelled to cut a portion off their legendary tree in order to make it fit. Port Mac went for the dramatic silver and white LED – but as for me – afte4r the careful consideration, I have determined upon the she-oak or whatever it is that grows scruffily down here at the Mouth of the 2 rivers. It means a dodgy lop of a lower branch without incurring the wrath of the constabulary – but it seems the correct choice to me. 12 days before Christmas, I shall acquire it. That seems to be tomorrow. In the meantime , I have been achieving rather a lot more than I normally do re this season. I went to the Bellingen Growers’ Market on Saturday and came across a Lady selling decorations she makes. The two reindeer up top were $2.50 each.
Izzy seems to have supplies of Xmas oddities The antlers are now on the reinsheep.
One small Black and white dog is also to receive Xmas gifts – so long as he comes down the Mountain for a visit.
coming along nicely.
Baby and I have completed the first decorations through the glamorous technique of cutting up catalogues and stapling them into loops and making a chain. We have app. 5 metres now. Takes me back to teaching days spiritually. The Daughter, Kati B, seemed amused but then the little one – SMILED. I was taken unawares of what pleasure that would give me. Then she leaned her head on mine and kissed me. So, today, Chinese Lanterns and paper bells.
In the Meantime, I look again into the TROVE for other Christmases.
This year, 2010, the inland is FLOODED. Coonamble and Wagga and more to come. Just as they did to us on the Clarence in 2009, the SES ordered evacuation in near hysteria, offering no assistance, no direction and often recommending roads and towns which proved more dangerous than staying put, only to have the flood pass through without breaching the levees AT ALL. So now Coonamble is angry and Wagga will likely be. We listened to the Locals back in 2009 and the Inland Locals are saying the same things that we were. Inaccurate assessment of situation, minimal use of local knowledge, fear inducing evacuation orders, lack of support, assistance or direction.
and Christmases Past.
"Flood-bound Town To Get Beer By Plane." The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842-1954) 21 Dec 1950: 3. Web. 7 Dec 2010.
AND THEN THERE WERE THE POTATOES.
"Fortnight’s Shortage Of Potatoes." The Sydney Morning Herald(NSW : 1842-1954) 4 Dec 1952: 7. Web. 7 Dec 2010.
NOW FOR THE DECORATIONS.
2008 – CHRISTMAS AT HOME IN BILAMBIL COTTAGE WITH FAMILY COMING TO STAY.
I am getting something of a picture now. There are :
CHRISTMAS DAY CLOTHING
ACTIVITIES – MUSIC, GAMES ETC
FOOD, DRINK AND THE TABLE
WHO SLEEPS WHERE AND HOW
KATE’S BIRTHDAY AND V ISITORS FROM AFAR
I shall proceed with my research. Izzy is mowing lawns – a crucial element of the Occasion. He is the pinnacle of Mower matched only by my former DOS in Bilambil.
We have a Baby in our lives this year who hasn’t encountered her first Santa. It appears that he appears in stores on the last weekend of November so he wasn’t there when we ‘did’ Coffs Harbour last week. Week before.
Now a few more images and then a study of DECORATIONS INCLUDING TREE.
Herein I include one pic of a Staff Xmas Party. That’s something I generally avoid but I was attending as ‘guest of’ and ‘ partner of’. I am only recently cast in the role of ‘partner of’ anyone at all. 2007, the Austlit Staff met at the Blue frog in Toowong for Xmas Lunch.
Looking through the AUSTRALIAN WOMEN’S WEEKLY, I also find that many of the recipes for cakes and puddings do NOT contain alcohol. At what stage did it slip into tradition that it was not possible to make cake without grog ?
This one includes OUR 2006 ARMIDALE XMAS which meant HAIL. A NATIONAL DISASTER level of hail.
I came from Bilambil on the XPT to Grafton and then up on the Moree Coach to Glen Innes and the MOB picked me up from there, As we drove the 100kms towards Armidale hail came over and when we reached town, it had been TRASHED.
GAME OF 2006 – BOLLE.
FOR NOW – BACK TO THE PLANNING.
A 1947 OUTDOOR CHRISTMAS SETTING
CHINESE HAPPY SACKERS. I discover it IS called HAPPY SACK after all.
This year, I was going to focus on Summer rather than Christmas. It appears, however, that Summer might not come so Christmas it is. The AUSTRALIAN WOMENS WEEKLY is now online in TROVE and they have some fine Christmas info and ideas.
This is a good thing because I am no manner of a hostess, do not cook nor even shop very well and have a naturally eremitic inclination combined with a morbidity of personality that alternates with immature over excitement and troublemaking. This year, for my 62nd Xmas I am carefully studying the Yuletide celebrations and discussing the process with others.
Decorations are an issue of course. The MOB do them well. My sister has ordered an online tree, My daughter has quiet good taste. My brother, so I am told, has a Xmas decorator come in. As for me – I am not quite sure as yet about how to decorate.
Crafty people have the advantage. I found a Maggie Taberer Article recommending the wearing of WHITE. Well – I hadn’t thought of that.
It adds meaning to the words NOTHING LOOKS BETTER.
Years Back, when I went to Sydney after leaving my husband, I found it distressing to have to BUY all my food and mostly in supermarkets. I am now back home and in the process of quiet acceptance of that being so, I watch the little things. I watch the food grown locally and John the Canadian Neighbour who passes by and hands us 2 cloves of garlic, grown organically by him down in the bottom paddock.
And not one apology for not posting. It seems a common trait in Bloggers. Apologising for not writing posts. Just write them, says I. Or don’t write them.
Been waiting for Summertime and swims but mostly we have had rain.
I am deep in the Internet Archive amongst the Halloween Mysteries and rather interesting they are. I have also had some interesting photographs this week and some ghostly effects.
In the middle of Bellingen, there is an island known as BAT ISLAND. It doesn’t look as it once looked to me. I think that’s due to some pretty shameful neglect of the adjoining park which was once the Caravan Park known as Cedars and whatever disaster has been made of the Island and the River. Nevertheless – I shall put the link to BATS OR FLYING FOXES?
BOOKS ABOUT WITCHES.
Johnston, Mary, 1870-1936
|Witch stories (1861)Linton, E. Lynn (Elizabeth Lynn), 1822-1898|
|AND IN THE NEXT POST : WALTER DE LA MARE AND HIS DOWN DOWN DERRY DO
Down-adown-derry : a book of fairy poems (c1922)
BATS AND THEIR BAT BABIES.
Thinking idly about Halloween. I know very little about it . By the end of today, I expect to know somewhat more.
|THE PUMPKIN GIANT.|
|THE TOPAZ STORY BOOK|
Highland Superstitions: Connected with the Druids, Fairies, Witchcraft, Second-sight, Hallowe’en . (1901)
|YULE, BELTANE AND HALLOWEEN FESTIVALS.
HALLO WEEN. The northern nations, like the Hebrews, began their day in the evening. Thus we have Yule Eve, and Hallow Eve (Hallowe’en), the evenings preceding the respective feasts. The name Hallowe’en is of Christian origin, but the origin of the feast itself is hidden in ancient mythology. The Celtic name for the autumn festival was Sham-in, meaning Baal’s Fire. The Irish Celts called it Sainhain, or Sainfuin ; Sain, summer, and Fuin, end, — i.e., the end of summer. The Hebrews and Phoenicians called this festival Baal-Shewin, a name signifying the principle of order. The feast day in Britain and Ireland is the first of November. The Druids are said on this day to have sacrificed horses to the sun, as a thank-offering for the harvest. An Irish king, who reigned 400 a.d., commanded sacrifices to be made to a moon idol, which was worshipped by the people on the evening of Sain-hain. Sacrifices were also offered on this night to the spirits of the dead, who were believed to have liberty at this season to visit their old earthly haunts and their friends, — a belief this, which was entertained by many ancient nations, and was the origin of many of the curious superstitious customs still extant in this country on Hallowe’en.
This belief in the ability of witches to convert them- selves into the appearance of animals at pleasure was prevalent even during this century. In 1828, or there- about, there died an old woman, who when alive had gone about with a crutch, and it was reported of her, and generally believed, that in her younger days she had the power of witchcraft, and that one morning as she was out about some of her unhallowed sports, disporting herself in the shape of a hare, that a man who was out with a gun saw, as he thought, in the moonlight, a hare, and fired at it, breaking its leg; but it took shelter behind a stone, and when he went to get the hare, he found instead a young woman sitting bandaging with a handkerchief her leg, which was bleeding. He knew her, and upon her entreaty promised never to disclose her secret, and ever after she went with a crutch. I have heard similar stories told of other women in other locali- ties, showing the prevalence of this form of belief As those who had dealings with the devil were believed to have renounced their baptism or their allegiance to Christ, they never went to church, and hated the Bible. Therefore, all who did not follow the custom of believers were not only considered infidels, but as having enlisted in the devil’s corps, and such people in small localities were kept at an outside, and suspected, being regarded as capable of any wickedness, and untrustworthy. I remember several persons, both men and women, against intercourse with whom we were earnestly warned, and were instructed that it was not even safe to play with their children.
“Folk lore, or, Superstitious beliefs in the west of Scotland within this century : with an appendix shewing the probable relation of the modern festivals of Christmas, May Day, St. John’s Day, and Halloween, to ancient sun and fire worship“
REPTON RAILWAY BRIDGE.
They tell me its going to rain for another 3 months. Then again, when I lived in Brisbane, they told me it was never going to rain again and we had best drink seawater and urine. And , when I lived in Ulmarra, they told me it was going to be the hottest summer ever and bushfires would burn for months.
It does LOOK WET. It IS wet. I have seen a lot of rain during the first decade of the 21st Century despite the renowned drought. In the drought-ridden Brisbane of 2007-2008 – I was on a number of occasions – soaked through to the skin and even carried an umbrella, something which I had resisted doing for most of my 6 Earth Decades. Fortunately, my Mother, who was a kindly mother to me, had given me a Rose umbrella back in 2000. It is with me still and survives despite all manner of adventures.
Its Sunday and its been raining for a week except for Thursday which was hot and fine. Today is back to the Long Wet. Its meant horses hiding out on the verandah with unfortunate residues for us.
|Then I started wondering about UMBRELLAS and hit the NLA Newspapers again.|
UMBRELLAS turn out to be the source of amusement I always thought they were. I shall need sources of amusement if the rain continues as it seems set to do. One newspaper has a plan for building an umbrella stand – a caved one at that.
Few women and fewer men have enough character to be idle. E.V. Lucas
Hmm. Looking at the ads in the NLA Newspapers. The ILLUSTRATED ads that is. Its a beautiful morning here. Springtime mild and clear and fresh. And I do believe I have a free day before me. So I am roaming idly. I was never one who was inclined to SURF. I fancy sitting at the edges of the waters dawdling, and digging holes in sand. Today – I IDLE.
The British seem to cultivate it best. http://idler.co.uk/about/
I am sure there are Idler people than them but I am not sure that others are able to cultivate it quite so consciously. Like an English Garden.
Here in Australia, we have an online IDLER as well.
Last year in Grafton we acquired for $1 per book, seven books of from the early 1900s written by W.W. JACOBS from his Sea Shanty Stories and that’s where I came across JEROME K JEROME and his Idler World. http://www.online-literature.com/ww-jacobs/
“Institutions fear idle populations because an idler is a thinker and thinkers are not a welcome addition to most social situations.”
|I was going to idle through the Newspapers and might still do so but firstly I shall look for some evidence of my personal idling ability and idle encounters. There is a fine line between IDLER and SLOTH.
Seems to me that the New Idler in the U.K. allows himself to get a little too passionate to be quite an Artiste.
Best I check my yellow and blue dictionary for the meaning and origins of the word.Well, it has the definition but not a great deal about the origins. I like knowing origins because they give me a sense of the culture that generated such a word. If it were French in origin, then I would idle in a rather different manner than the Old English and German they list here.
My Once and Former Husband was always checking the Idling on our cars. Usually because they tended to conk out. One of the dangers of too much or maladjusted Idling , I suppose. Hadn’t thought of that before.
One of my favourite and role modelling quotes is one I read about Bill Wilson, written by his wife. I don’t have the exact wording to hand but the imprint left on my brain is this.
IDLING is the means of moving though life which allows me to pause and note the bull in the front paddock; to stop the car, pick up the camera and spend a few minutes observing, filming and wondering.
Idling makes a lot of Wondering time available.
`Nice? It’s the ONLY thing,’ said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my young friend, there is NOTHING–absolute nothing–half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,’ he went on dreamily: `messing–about–in—boats
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen.
I add this link to FLANEURS as well. We have at least one acknowledged case of FLANEUR in the Family.
That is in addition to the ‘Dawdling No-Hoper”.
Here is an example of the French influence on Idling. As I suggested before, it presents a slightly different image.
In 1840′s Paris, it was regarded as the height of cool to take your tortoise for a walk
Ah, the golden days of flanerie are gone. Saunter, stroll: dally, dawdle; loiter, linger … arm in arm those magical words float by me, trailing their irretrievable aura. The ability to set the pace of of one’s own life is the elusive dream of the urban loafer. But the times when the city could unfold its pavements at the nonchalant pace of the browser are receding ever more rapidly through the subway of modernity.
Remember, idler etiquette is at least partly about keeping people on their toes. That’s why a personal card which is flat, more or less rectangular, fashioned of paper, and wallet-sized—resembling a business card, in other words—is essential.
Your personal card should present your name and the bare minimum of information necessary for contacting you, and should only bear a descriptive word or two about you if you feel it adds to the desired effect. Sobriquets like Cad, Bon Vivant, Raconteur, and (of course) Idler are good; titles like Executive Assistant or Associate Producer are bad. I also approve of perplexing and/or mysterious descriptors like Spy, Freedom Fighter, or Player. A friend of mine, who supports himself by drawing typefaces (known as fonts) has a personal card which I admire greatly. Beneath his name it reads, simply, Alphabetician. Now that’s fabulous.
The Argus (Melbourne,… Saturday 26 September 1925
An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow
The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him.
The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
There’s a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.
The man we surround, the man no one approaches
simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps
not like a child, not like the wind, like a man
and does not declaim it, nor beat his breast, nor even
sob very loudly—yet the dignity of his weeping
holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him
in the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow,
and uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him
stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds
longing for tears as children for a rainbow.
Some will say, in the years to come, a halo
or force stood around him. There is no such thing.
Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him
but they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood,
the toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us
trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected
judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream
who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children
and such as look out of Paradise come near him
and sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.
Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops
his mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit—
and I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand
and shake as she receives the gift of weeping;
as many as follow her also receive it
and many weep for sheer acceptance, and more
refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance,
but the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing,
the man who weeps ignores us, and cries out
of his writhen face and ordinary body
not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow,
hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea—
and when he stops, he simply walks between us
mopping his face with the dignity of one
man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.
Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.
The Weatherboard Cathedral, 1969
I am just wondering about other countries and areas. In my acceptance of my mid north coast of NSW life, I have stopped waiting for the day when I go and look at these places for myself because I am very likely not going to do so. Best then travel the Electronic Seas. I was surprised via FACEBOOK to discover that the USA virtually has no coloured toilet paper. Ellen told me that. No patterns either – obviously. U.K. seemed app the same.
I wonder what they do about rubbish tips. I am familiar with Tugun, Tweed Heads, Grafton and Raleigh and Kalang.
Izzy knows WHITE’S GULLY on the Illawarra which also has an ecohouse type thing. Raleigh has the BEST. Tugun is pathetic and Murwillumbah not too good.
I also know Armidale Tip which is pretty good but more expensive than Raleigh.
I have only ventured into the world of music in recent years due to living with a musician. I thought addicts were odd but musos are very odd.
This week Slim Pickens and Dr Baz were playing at Bello Markets.
They say they’re Cajun Cowboy Blues.
I like the Cajun Cowboy stuff. Same as I like the Lost Appalachian type music.
That is a digression or two. It came about because I was thinking that I have not as yet taken to Delta Blues. I still haven’t recovered from the disappointment of finding that the Blues Players I had come to know in Bilambil, had real jobs, homes, wives and kids and minimal reason to be blue at all – as well as no connection at all to the U.S.A.
As a result, I fancy the Nutter’s music like the clog dancing and the MAN OF HIS TIMES. I was going to go to a Harry Manx concert last week and I LIKE harry Manx, on the radio – one song at a time- but wasn’t sure about sitting through the whole concert in case I was trapped within the Blues. I have family members who love the Blues. I also know people who like to attempt to perform Leonard Cohen’s HALLELUJAH. I know rather a lot of them. They give me THE BLUES.
I could sing THE BLUES. I haven’t as yet determined which manner of BLUES I shall sing. I did see Lady Sings the Blues long ago in Nambucca Cinema when I was in the throes of a particularly Bad Habit of mine. That’s way back and I was wearing a fur coat due to being extremely cold. I surely had THE BLUES then.
Emotionally I comprehend the Blues but musically I don’t comprehend much at all. Let alone know what toilet paper and garbage tips are like in other countries.
Izzy calls it 12 bars of misery.
All residents in Sweden are covered by national health insurance. If a person is ill, or must stay home to care for sick children, he/she receives a taxable daily allowance, 65-90% of lost income, depending on the length of the absence. The patient is charged a fee for medical consultations and any drugs prescribed. The county councils, together with the health insurance system, then pay most of the hospitalisation costs and laboratory fees.
During the 20th century, at the price of the world’s highest tax burden, Sweden built up what is often called the world’s most generous general social welfare system, with such elements as virtually free (that is, tax-financed) schools, child care, health care, pensions, elder care, social services and various economic security systems.
A thing which is depressingly drifting further and further away from what the community was asking for.
Social welfare and society
Denmark is a welfare state. The description is justified by the high degree of income redistribution, the large number of owner-occupiers on the housing market, and the old age pension paid to everyone aged 67 years or older.
Denmark was one of the first countries in the world to establish efficient social services with the introduction of relief for the sick, unemployed, and aged. Social welfare programs include health insurance, health and hospital services, insurance for occupational injuries, unemployment insurance and employment exchange services, old age and disability pensions, rehabilitation and nursing homes, family welfare subsidies, general public welfare, and payments for military accidents. Maternity benefits are payable up to 52 weeks.
Read more: Social development – Denmark – system http://www.nationsencyclopedia.com/Europe/Denmark-SOCIAL-DEVELOPMENT.html#ixzz1090w0LT2
After a sleepless night. Actually, I rearranged the furniture before the restless night. I so rarely experience that anymore that I was driven into the arms of my old loves : Rolheiser and Nouwen and the like. It worked as it always does. Always has so far.
WILLYWEATHER says the Temp should range from 10-25 here today. Its 21.1 degrees C at 9.43 am.
The SPRING PLANT FAIR is coming up.
I shall take a small glance at my other Springtimes.
Some good-looking Septembers there.
Truly Springtime it is.
FIRST SHOT OF SPRING 2010 AT THE WORKERS’ COTTAGE.
Coming into MY time of the year. I have rarely done an easy August. August has included my marriage, my mother’s death, my separation from my husband, the end of my drug use and various other ‘ challenging ‘ experiences. This year has been another of the tough ones. BUT now it is SPRINGTIME.
AN IDLE ROAM.
NEIL WHITFIELD, my first real blogging encounter, is re-locating to West Wollongong. I had not ever been there till early this year with Izzy whose academic years were spent at UOW. NEIL’S SECOND DECADE.
Let’s take a look at this Winter. June, July and August. Hmm. This morning the mists were down and Bali the Brown Dog was out front early. All dogs were out and about during the night and Scoob the little dog is dirty and shamefaced.
THE WINTER OF 2010.
Down here at the Coast, we had a July frost. I saw only the one although there might have been light ones for the early risers.
Up in Armidale on the New England, it went as low as –12 degrees in July.
The garlic had been taken in by the time of the frost and the citrus fruits were sweet and abundant. Next door they have lemonade trees and I have been drinking them with new life water.
Seems to be a catbird in there as well and I know there is a Jabiru.
I took a trip to Macksville, one Wednesday. 34.4 kms, so they tell me, from Raleigh to Macksville.
My winter has featured BIRDS. A lot of birds. A lot of different kinds of birds.
Its had me posting photographs and asking about the species. This black one is a Satin Bowerbird. Now, I was under the illusion that they were elusive and timid but here there are masses of them. At least 3 males and 10 or more females – all aggressive and squabbling and shrieking.
So much for my delusions of the romantic bower bird secreting pieces of blue in some hidden nest.
Much of the Winter has been taken up in Bellingen Shopping with my daughter and her little lady. Bellingen is a one street shopping centre. Up one side and down the other, with one side street of cafes.
Its almost a meditation walk for me with the Maclaren Pusher. Up one side and down the other. 3 generations of women from one family.
On this last day of Winter, 2010, a Winter which has certainly blued with the chilled winds of our own personal ice floes, I have a hose out and am washing the concrete verandahs where the chooks and horses have been and am waiting for visitors to come.
I have , of course, been sharing a child’s first Winter and now Springtime is coming. Dresses and sand and lagoons – for the very first time.
I have other little girls to show things to, as well. Haven’t had much chance this year and I miss them. I do believe that only one of them has seen a flathead.
We need poncho towels and thongs. We also need a caravan as spare room. We have tents but – the caravan would be a far, far better thing to do than anything I have done before.
Better, even, than the Main House at Bilambil. Possibly. Its going to be a hard act to follow. There we had our own Old Gentleman, large heart shaped pool and tennis court.
Here, we have the things of the Valley, the Beach, the River and the Towns.
We have verandahs all around and flat land where children can play. We have gardens to plant and trees where we can hang swings. The nearest shop is at the Raleigh Tip – the Ecohouse.
When the Spring time comes, we can go there and look for things we need. Books and Toys and planks of wood.
Me, I want a claw bathtub out the back, near the laundry tubs.
They say there’s a black snake living out there at the moment, just behind the big shed. They saw it sunning itself.
It has been a Winter of horses. My own favourite is this one. He comes a-visiting from time to time and stays a week or two eating coastal grasses.
I know little about horses but a recent trip to the now almost defunct Brigalow caravan park reminded me of Old Tom who lived there when I did in the 1990s. He still does, so I am told, down in his little corner of the world on the riverbank.
I saw him once with a horse. I think he was the original Horse Whisperer. It was a beautiful thing to watch. He carved from bone and rode a big white motorbike.
We did one trip to Armidale during the Winter. I waited until I was hearing no whispers of –12degrees or ice on the inside of the windows.
Then we went a-visiting for a couple of days. We went to the movies and laughed and talked, and talked and laughed- about it all again.
There seems to be a new coach service doing the Bello-Armidale run and I will be looking at taking a ride on it. After years of travelling on public transport, I am now often a Starwagon passenger. Each method of locomotion has its points – but I do like my coaches and trains and planes.
I wonder whether they will still have a movie on the journey.
Winter saw us at the Bellingen Markets. A new normal is forming. 2nd and 4th Saturdays are Growers’ markets in North Bello. They are small and communal and friendly.
3rd Saturday is Bellingen Community Markets. They are HUGE. We meet up with the Maclaren Girls and do our Saturday mornings.
Clothes and books and food and music and people.
Seem to be rather a lot of little fairy people as well and a wonderful face painter.
And my favourite young band HEART TRIBE.
The Bellingen Winter. Well its almost done and we begin the Springtime. The magnolias are in flower. My mind is turning to the Urunga Sea Lido and the beaches. I don’t know what Springtime is going to bring. I know there is one sad element in it. Two, indeed.
It seems to be enabling me to walk within each day and grasp sanity.
Someplace in this Return is a ferocity of purpose. A gnarly ancient tree ferocity. A deep rooting sturdiness.
I watched a grandmother slowly building a rock garden yesterday. One rock at a time. She could be crazy or she could be granitically wise.
Wise, so methinks.