Last night, after the news, the ABC Perth weather forecaster told us we'd just endured the hottest March on record.Then he said: "Well, I know lots of people are getting sick of all these sunny days and clear skies, so I have the news you've all been waiting for."There's a chance it will be partly cloudy next Wednesday and Thursday."Sigh.
I am from the home my dad built for us, brick by brick; from eiderdowns and coal fires, Quality Street and Typhoo tea.I am from the smart bungalow my mum loved, the butterfly bush, the boiler in the kitchen, and the big picture window full of Norfolk sunsets.I am from long summer twilights climbing trees on the common, lips and fingers stained with wild strawberry juice, and rosebay willow herb growing at the edges of the sugarbeet fields.Grass snakes in my brother's hands, no front teeth, Chinese skipping at playtime, wellingtons and belted gabardine school macs.I am from people with too-fresh memories of both world wars; from Grandad in Egypt and Gallipoli who never saw his baby daughter, from Nanna who buried tiny Margaret alone. From Patrick and Violet whose hometowns were bombed and whose childhoods were too short.I am from unconditional love and being brave.From family scandals and secrets, and a child given away.I am from bell, book and candle; from ghost stories, hymns every day, tombstones and superstition; and never being told what to believe.I'm from age-old Norwich, its castle, cobbles and cathedral ... and from the smooth steel towers and uncracked concrete of shiny-new Perth.I'm from the immigrant's nostalgia and the settler's satisfaction; the here and there.I've been missing the will to blog lately, but having read some of these formula-constructed little essays a few years ago, and a lovely one by Fairlie today, I thought I'd have a go. Very hard not to get too mawkish, but fun.
:: In between watching ever more disturbing news bulletins from Japan over the past few days, I've been painting — pictures and Easter eggs — sewing, and knitting. And doing an awful lot of cleaning — all areas of the house are now tidy, safe, clean and fully functioning, you'll be relieved to hear.
:: I see my wonderful grandchildren every Friday — last Friday was Crazy Hair Day at Mack's school!:: News this morning about north-east Japan's Fukushima nuclear power station is pretty scary. This article in the NY Times is a great help in explaining what's going on. The Japanese plants were designed to withstand emergencies greater than scientists expected, but that was still a lot smaller than last Friday's earthquake and tsunamis.Fingers crossed for everyone there today.
Would you believe I spent almost all of yesterday organising one bookcase? (Please note hi-tech cardboard wedges in sideboard doors to stop baby grand-daughter adding contents to bedlam.)
The house is in such chaos at the moment, partially because we inherited a bit of clutter and mess when Lily and Nick moved out after staying here with us for a month before the move to Melbourne.
And partially because I am pretty slack at the best of times, and we've been having a heatwave, which saps me of whatever minuscule ambition I might have to do housework. Even with the air-con on.But enough is enough and it's time I clawed my way back.Lily and Nick left three bookcases in our garage, so I've nabbed this one for this spot. My idea is that this bookcase, once stocked in an orderly way, will relieve some of the pressure in here ...
... so I can once more enjoy a calm, clear room in which to work.
For the first time in this house I have all the reference books together, plus all of my and Will's fabulous art books, which is brilliant.But now I'm being distracted by the fourth shelf up, which has cookbooks on it, and a spot where we can charge our phones and iPods. The cookbooks are all about to go back into the cupboard in the kitchen so I can give the novels above more room. they will continue into the work room.Better hustle — (paid) work in a few hours ...
Circular knitting — well, this gorgeous purple one is.It's a mobius version of this lacy cowl, knit in a glorious sock-weight Lana Woll (yes, woll not wool), which was a present the other day from my best friend Shelley.It's lovely to knit with, and I thought its changing textures and colours would suit this easy-peasy lace.This next project, a beret for the Divine Miss Iman, is not actually being knit in the round, but I have temporarily transferred it to a circular needle because after the initial ribbing, there were so many increases that it hardly fit on the straight ones.
This is also yummy yarn, an Eki Riva 8ply baby alpaca, made in Peru, that is so beautiful to work with that I can't help picking it up and doing a row or two during the day.Mind you, it's my first ever attempt at cables and bobbles, so a row takes me quite a while.
Both projects met with disaster yesterday, which was probably because I was working on them while I was keeping an eye on the Oscars. Last night I had to frog four rows of the green, and three rows of the purple. Aaaaagh.That'll teach me to loll about in front of daytime telly.
First thing this morning, about 7am. A slight breeze, low sunlight, fresh air — I love sitting here looking at the treetops (that's my foot at the bottom of the pic).
Ten minutes later. This is the view from the sofa near the kitchen door, looking out on to the back deck. The front of the house is on a main road, but the back is green and lush and peaceful, and we back on to a big park.
A little while later, it's still gorgeous sitting here.But an hour later, I've had to pull down the blinds and move to the other side of the house, into the shade, because already the sun is so hot the room's getting uncomfortable, and I don't want to switch on the air-conditioner so early.
By lunchtime, we have to have the air-con on, and the blinds will be down until evening.
Right now, about 2.30pm, it's 38 (100F) with a little bit of high cloud. Perth is having a stinking February: no day under 30 (86F), and no night under 20 (68F). With uncommon humidity. Yesterday, I'd been out all afternoon and drove home at about 8.15pm, and as I got out of the cool car, my glasses fogged up in the drenching heat outside. Yuck!
Mind you, this is easily put up with, compared to some of the other natural events in this part of the world.
Posted to join in Dawn's Sunday Scrapbook on the other hemisphere — where she is looking forward to some regular sunshine!
Lily (above, saying goodbye a few days ago to her favourite great old gum tree on the farm) moves to Melbourne tomorrow — from the eighth most liveable city in the world to the second*. I'll miss her terribly, but understand perfectly why she's going.And thank heavens for frequent flyer points, occasional cheap airfares, and dear friends who'll put David and me up when we decide to fly over for a long weekend or a few days. It's out favourite Australian city too, so we're planning to visit.Today, Lily had her interview at the Japanese consulate for a position on the JET program. She was so nervous, but said it went really well, and the interview panel were very friendly. Now she can relax and wait to hear if she's been selected — I think it's April when they get told.:: Dreadful news from Christchurch in New Zealand — can't imagine how terrifying such a massive earthquake must be.And a tornado — as in a twister — has hit Karratha in our North-West!* If you didn't care to follow the link — The Huffington Post (US current affairs and comment website) has just released its 2011 list of the world's most liveable cities, a list it says is based on "a combination of environment, health care, culture and infrastructure".Vancouver has been No. 1 for five years in a row. The rest of the top 10 are: 2 Melbourne, 3 Vienna, 4 Toronto, 5 Calgary, 6 Helsinki, 7 Sydney, 8 Perth, 9 Adelaide, and 10 Auckland.Paris is 16th, Los Angeles 44th, London 53rd and New York 56th.
Last night, after the news, the ABC Perth weather forecaster told us we'd just endured the hottest March on record.
:: In between watching ever more disturbing news bulletins from Japan over the past few days, I've been painting — pictures and Easter eggs — sewing, and knitting. And doing an awful lot of cleaning — all areas of the house are now tidy, safe, clean and fully functioning, you'll be relieved to hear.
:: I see my wonderful grandchildren every Friday — last Friday was Crazy Hair Day at Mack's school!
Would you believe I spent almost all of yesterday organising one bookcase? (Please note hi-tech cardboard wedges in sideboard doors to stop baby grand-daughter adding contents to bedlam.)
The house is in such chaos at the moment, partially because we inherited a bit of clutter and mess when Lily and Nick moved out after staying here with us for a month before the move to Melbourne.
And partially because I am pretty slack at the best of times, and we've been having a heatwave, which saps me of whatever minuscule ambition I might have to do housework. Even with the air-con on.
... so I can once more enjoy a calm, clear room in which to work.
For the first time in this house I have all the reference books together, plus all of my and Will's fabulous art books, which is brilliant.
Circular knitting — well, this gorgeous purple one is.
This is also yummy yarn, an Eki Riva 8ply baby alpaca, made in Peru, that is so beautiful to work with that I can't help picking it up and doing a row or two during the day.
Both projects met with disaster yesterday, which was probably because I was working on them while I was keeping an eye on the Oscars. Last night I had to frog four rows of the green, and three rows of the purple. Aaaaagh.
First thing this morning, about 7am. A slight breeze, low sunlight, fresh air — I love sitting here looking at the treetops (that's my foot at the bottom of the pic).
Ten minutes later. This is the view from the sofa near the kitchen door, looking out on to the back deck. The front of the house is on a main road, but the back is green and lush and peaceful, and we back on to a big park.
A little while later, it's still gorgeous sitting here.
By lunchtime, we have to have the air-con on, and the blinds will be down until evening.
Right now, about 2.30pm, it's 38 (100F) with a little bit of high cloud. Perth is having a stinking February: no day under 30 (86F), and no night under 20 (68F). With uncommon humidity. Yesterday, I'd been out all afternoon and drove home at about 8.15pm, and as I got out of the cool car, my glasses fogged up in the drenching heat outside. Yuck!
Lily (above, saying goodbye a few days ago to her favourite great old gum tree on the farm) moves to Melbourne tomorrow — from the eighth most liveable city in the world to the second*. I'll miss her terribly, but understand perfectly why she's going.
