To Be Or Not To Be?

When is it time to reassign the childrens' cubby? All four of our children are now adults so it must be time to rethink the cubby and its purpose for being. One corner houses the wine racks and another space the golfer's retreat. Yet mostly it houses the things, stuff, junk that the children don't want to throw out. Hoarding of things like one shoe of a new pair of joggers. If the other new shoe hasn't been located in the last two years then I'm pretty sure that it never will be found. A deflated, yellow, plastic, midori or rum blow up advertisement sits airless beside a disused wine crushing tub. The tub I'm keeping in case we do happen to grow enough grapes to make our own wine again. Anne and I crushed our first vintage in that big blue tub. It has sentimental attachments. Not so lucky the other plastic thing; its hours are numbered. The wooden doll house and stove I'll treasure for a little while longer. You never know when they'll be needed. What do other people keep, store and much later wonder why? I see the good sense in keeping the spare tiles from past renovation events. I recognise the importance of the desk but the 4 spare wheels, hmmmm. If they are so important then why aren't they on the car? They still have tread and all the key features of tyres. My bath that has sat waiting to be installed in the renovated ensuite is soon moving upstairs to the pool room to be ready for installation. When I reflect I recall that the pool room is similar to the cubby as it too has become a place for storing goods of an undecided fate. Issue is that some items have been waiting for the big call for over a year now. To be or not to be kept? What should be relegated to the dump?

Mad Hatter's Tea Party

The Hunter Valley Gardens at Pokolbin; a place to visit when you have some free time. No matter what the season the gardens keep evolving. There is something new to see, even for the locals! Some time ago now we made the grand tour and snapped the obligatory pictures by which to remember the day. Several unsuccessful attempts were made to capture the group photo at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party table. Set the camera, run, sit, click. Oh! I wasn't ready. Start again. Finally, this is the best of the lot. We saw a cow jump over the moon while Kirstie had an encounter with Humpty Dumpty. He was a hard egg to crack. Did he fall or was he pushed? Where's Michael? Has anyone seen Michael? Alysia was seen chatting to a statue. Can't imagine what they had in common. Not sure what was said but it must have been funny as they are both smiling. The pathways enable the casual visitor to gradually wind their way through each section of the garden. It is difficult to choose a favourite part of the garden for each section is unique. The rooms created by clever planting design and then infused with sculptures or statues makes the whole day's outing memorable. This blog entry reminds me that it is probably time to visit again soon as the autumn leaves must be spectacular at this time of the year. Autumn has come late as we are still experiencing temperatures around 30 degrees and it is almost the end of April.

305

One very wet evening last winter, Kirstie and I made a reservation at restaurant 305. This was our first visit to the High Street restaurant. We were seated quite literally, at the table in the window. From this table we could see the night lights and the passing traffic. Inside, the restaurant was cosy. The service was exceptional and the food was delicious. We managed to have three courses as we sipped on our wine. This is one of the best local restaurants in Maitland. It's contemporary menu has fine selections. Booking is recommended as a number of times we had tried to make reservations only to discover that the restaurant was fully booked.

Lunch

Some days you just get lucky. You finish the mowing, dishes are done and it's time to sit with friends and chat. Under the pergola, old or new treat ourselves. The bougainvillea shades us against the sun's heat. This was taken a few years ago before we demolished the old wooden pergola to make way for the new. A platter of this and that.

TR7

Some years ago Stephen purchased a car that was the same colour as the sun. He spent many months restoring it to its former glory. He ordered parts from England and when they'd arrive he'd disappear down into the garage to add a little bit more to the puzzle of the old mechanics of which he was unfamiliar. He sourced windows from Sydney and parts from all over until he had the little yellow car, of which he is so very proud. The little yellow car has delivered great pleasure since it was recovered from a sale plot in inner Newcastle. It has travelled near and far, to Bathurst and Katoomba too. I love the funny lights that rise and fall at the flick of a switch; the two little eyes that hide within the car when not in use and especially the little fur muff over my seat belt. When we went to Bathurst the water in the fishpond of the B&B froze overnight and despite the extreme cold the little yellow car purred into life. In Katoomba it rested in the Echo Point Hotel car park while we shared Christmas in July with a group of friends. Brave little car managed the hills and even the motorway.

Family

Sometimes someone in the family captures a moment in time for others to share. You can't always hide from the glare of the photographer's flash. Hence, the need for the glasses. What was he thinking?

More Than Mustard

When Stephen and I left Tuscany we took the overnight sleeper from Italy to Dijon. It was early in the morning, well before the city had woken, when we walked still a little sleepy from the station out to the bus terminus. It was cool too. We sifted through our bags seeking some comfort from the cold. The city was clean and welcoming even at that time of the day. Had we not been encumbered by luggage we'd have explored the nearby shopping and business precinct before taking a coach to Gray. Fortunately we knew that we'd return to Dijon following our canal adventures so we dutifully waited at the bus stop. So upon our return we did see the sights. On walkabout we heard blaring horns and a procession of cars with people hanging from their windows waving and cheering. What was happening? Just a wedding according to the locals. Interesting custom. Dijon didn't just sell mustard. It was a vibrant city. A pleasing mix of old with new. Dijon drivers had overcome traffic and parking problems in a creative manner. One driver lifted his bike / car out from the kerb and waited for his chance to enter the stream of cars. It was the first time that I'd seen such transportation. A fine cathedral also graced the city of Dijon. It also boasted its own arch. Not as big as the one in Paris but still an arch none the less. At the tourist information centre in the middle of the city one could hire a special scooter. Perhaps that is not the correct term for it had a platform upon which one stood. It was some form of gyroscope transport. The correct name eludes me. Had I not felt that I may have been a danger to others I'd have like to try riding one. So we were on foot during our visit.