Boats and Bridges

Boats Big ones, little ones, barge boats, boats at berth, broken boats, boats squeezing in between, boats in fog, boats under bridges, boat buddies,

Smart Parking - No Problems

Smart parking in Florence, Mesha something in Dijon and a train in Switzerland ...

Santa, The Witch and The Wardrobe

Wondering what to wear ... When it's Halloween or Christmas it's such an easy choice but other times perplexing. My big blue hat travelled Europe but now I'm working on something new. Some hints or ideas would be helpful.

Once

Once there was a garden,
Once there was a path,

Once I walked beyond them,

Once I turned to look,

What was there surprised me

For twenty years had past.

Feeling Homesick - Just Click, Click, Click

When you just want to connect with home click a button

and you are there.

A Home Fit For A Pig

All over Europe we saw buildings that once stood proud and were probably once much loved but time and the elements had wearied their facades. Yet despite the disrepair the uncommon design and architecture attracted more than a glance and drew passersby to stop and inspect each new site. Once such building was that which housed the villa's resident pig or I think it did. On the day of our arrival the said pig was calmly grazing on a variety of small, hard, green-yellow pears that had covered the ground. Apart from that first sighting the pig was not seen again for the 10 days of our stay. I became intrigued and pondered the notion of roast pork. Had the pig been dispatched? While walking the villa's grounds one day I came upon the building shown above. As I drew closer I could hear muffled eating sounds and noted a large, white, plastic, bucket containing the green-yellow pears surrendered by the nearby tree. Ah! Pig's favourite food ... must be little pig's residence. Interesting diet. Wonder what it does for the flavour of the dressed meat or had I found the third little pig who had built his home of bricks? You can even see the chimney that lead to the demise of the big, bad wolf.

Cheese, Chocolate and Cheer

Tuscany was the first leg of our trip and to make a real memory we had booked an entire villa for the 10 of us. The villa had been beautifully restored but had maintained both its charm and character. It boasted many unique features complete with tower and a shower that you took whilst seated on the loo; but that was good, as the wash basin vanity was also within arm's reach. I digress. Every day the two GPS' argued to guide us to the fascinating medieval towns and villages surrounding Petroio, our home base for 10 days. I recall one morning's expedition where I was browsing outside a shop when I became aware of a particularly pungent smell. The others had gone ahead and were now calling me to join them. As I did I realised that the smell was now a distinct stink. With each step the overpowering odour harassed my senses. What was that smell? It couldn't be the suspect drain in the street as I first thought, so, whence came the smell? The others were very excited about something so I moved to check out at their find. An unusual grey-black mouldy shape had caught everyone's eye. Yes, it was cheese and they wanted to buy some. Speech left me. Just the memory! Fortunately the same people who are renowned for cheese making are also choclate artists. Next, a quaint chocalete laden window front drew our earnest attention. Dilemma! Choices? Too many! If I pick this one I'll miss the chance to try that one. Sensible solution. Each of us would have one and share the vision of its flavour with those seated at the table. Mine was a sculptured cone with deliberate soft, dark chocolate cream nestling within. I struck a pose and held it with suitable reverance so as not to shatter its baked and fragile shield. One bite was all it took to conclude it was a masterpiece.

Boating France

In 2008 Stephen and I embarked on a week long trip down the Soane River in France. After an overnight train trip from Florence we arrived at 6am in Dijon. From Dijon we made our way via coach to Gray where we were to connect with the boat hire depot. The early morning sunrise gave way to a sun filled day. At Gray we met our two travelling companions who were also our neighbours at home in Australia. To mark the boating adventure I decided that I wanted a haircut. Something European, cut by a French hairdresser. Using a borrowed phrase book I entered a shop and sought an appointment. With many gestures and the French equivalent of 'cut' I roamed the local streets until 11:00 when I re-entered the shop with only the word cut and the baffled stylist shook his head with much vigour that implied that he would not cut my hair as short as that depicted on the poster on his wall. Finally, he agreed and after an hour of cutting I suddenly remembered another word 'gray' at which point I think we connected. He probably thought that I was a grey haired old lady who was quite mad and indeed, I was grey, having lost so many locks of hair. He smiled almost knowingly. This is me driving the boat post haircut.

The crew then undertook serious training before entering our first lock of the journey. To mark the successful negotiation we celebrated with bubbles!

The journey downstream was picturesque.When we moored for the night crisp white feathered swans surrounded our boat anxious for a morsel of something special. What a pleasant way to discover the countryside of France. Dinner, wine, good company, hmmmm. Too good to be true. Not yet, but soon. Second day was also casual motoring with breaks for lunch and munchies. Day 3; hmmm, yes it was too good to be true. The temperature dropped to 5 Celsius. Stephen and one of our friends shared a pair of gloves between them. One glove on each hand. Everyone had at least three layers of clothing under their jackets. One day was so cold that I noticed our neighbour using the onboard hairdryer to blow warm air up through his hoody. Visibility zero, fog, pea soup. Rain, lots. Must mention that the river rose and banks were flooded. As the river caught previously stranded trees and logs they were rescued from the high water mark and entered the flood waters to inject some interest into our journey. Couples took it in turns to drive, spot debris and slowly wind the boat through flotsom. This was living! On occasions the fog and floating trees made travel too dangerous so we pulled in to recover and warm up. Along the way we stopped at some wonderful old villages and when we did we trekked through each regardless of the weather. There were sites that we'd never seen before and evenings were spent chatting about our daily discoveries, or things we eaten or people we'd met.

Friends, Fun and Food

My husband likes to cook while I prefer to choose the napkins, flowers and candles to greet our many guests. Tables reflect the mood or food of the occasion. Sometimes formal, sometimes casual depending on the fare. Each of us compiles our mental list; what to serve and what to drink to ensure the mix is right. To begin I like to share a platter or savoury nibbles, cheeses or raw vegetables topped with pate. Soft, soft music too. Chatter and wine. I prefer Merlot or Shiraz but bubbles too can be fun, especially when it's warm. The glasses reflect the lights of night as they nestle on the table between guest and host. Gentle sips to test the flavours of the grape. I know not the special terms or words to say but I do know what I like. Roses, fruits, oak and earth may escape the glasses' rim and waft so delicately that one can be persuaded to make a simple comment.

At times we dine outside to partake the view of garden, pool and porch.

Weird and Wonderful Weather

As you enter the city of Maitland you notice an interesting arrangement of poles. Each pole was created to recount the history of a flood in the area. As one gazes at each pole it has its own unique story to tell. Poles address the essence of each flood as they stand as if on parade. They close ranks to signify their stoic stance against the waters that seek to wash them away. In June, 2007 some thought that the waters might rise again but luck or engineering thwarted the rising flood tide. However, people around and about the city were not so fortunate and many homes were inundated that very long weekend. That was also the weekend when the bulk ship the Pasha Bulka was grounded on the sand at Nobby's Beach at Newcastle. Storms of every kind we've now experienced. First floods and then dust storms.

September 2009 Maitland woke to an eerie sky. Was it smoke? Was it cloud? Hard to tell at first. It was dust. Dust that had travelled silently, with great stealth to still the Sun in its tracks. To choke the air we breathed. Where did it come from? Where did it go? It left a red, brown legacy to mark its journey. It had travelled far to reach our town. Most stayed indoors where possible. Streets usually busy with traffic revealled a lone, brave car. It cruised a street left becalmed but for the dust.

Other Renovation Events

We are not entirely new to the concept of renovation as the kitchen was another project that we had undertaken a few years ago and we felt confident that the experts who installed our kitchen taught us everything one needs to know about the process. It looks good now and so will our ensuite when it's finished. In fact I don't understand why professionals train for so many years and serve an apprenticeship before being entrusted to renovate a space.

Renovations!

Today Stephen and Christopher are starting the renovations on the en suite. They plan to erect some scaffolding outside so that they can access the window and wall that need to be removed. The new window is designed to allow one to sit in the bath and take in the view. Not sure what view the neighbour will have but I guess that time will tell. It is my intention to create a photo essay of the happenings. Since neither Stephen or Christopher has renovated a bathroom before I am sure that the entire experience will be most interesting.
Just popped out to snap some before images so that the after pictures will remind me why we embarked on this madness.
Tiles are off the wall, loo paper holder is sitting on a chair and I have a hole window. No, not a typo but really just a hole not a whole window. Planning ... forgot to order the 'Skip' for the rubble so I have filled buckets and a crate until overflowing. I feel confident that the rest of the job will go smoothly. Off to the phone book to find a Skip hire.
The window is in! I can sit on the toilet and look out the window. However, there is a problem with that at the moment in that everyone can see me in the bathroom as we haven't finished relocating the shower and toilet yet. When it is finished I can imagine sitting in the bath and enjoying the garden view.

Shake, Rattle and Roll

I remember when we were making the new driveway and someone said that anyone could hire a roller so we did. What you can't see is my husband filming me and calling directions about how to drive the machine without running over anything or anyone. I didn't realise how much fun a person could have building a driveway.

Spring

Spring in the garden, spring in my step when flowers start to bloom. Little birds in their dozens begin to make their annual visit to the trees and gardens around our home. I am hoping that the nest builders return to the peppercorn tree. Little yellow and grey finches smaller than my hand fly in and out of the foliage, chirping as they go.

How peace-ful it is to sit under the pergola on a warm afternoon while sipping a glass of red and chatting with friends. Twenty years ago my family moved from Sydney for a change of lifestyle. Only one home was available for sale in this location, at that time. The grass was green and the hills sat so gently and welcoming in the distance.
Eventually the new lifestyle settled into a routine. Work through the week and exploring the area at weekends but remembering also to attend to the enormous yard that came with our home.
Gradually we met and made new friends both at work and in the local area. Soon weekends were spent entertaining friends both old and new. The rural lifestyle appealed to many.