Tag Archives: chest infection

Weekend Coffee Share…9th June, 2024.

Welcome to another Weekend Coffee Share!

How was your week? I hope it went well and you are in good spirits.

You picked a good night to come over to my place. My son has been wanting me to bake him some Anzac Biscuits after his batch didn’t work out a few weeks ago (which kind of happens when you don’t follow the recipe!!) SO, here I am munching on an Anzac Biscuit with the addition of macadamia nuts along with my regular pre-bed cup of decaf tea.

The news about the death of BBC presenter and all-round good guy, Dr Michael Mosley, came through tonight. He’d gone missing on the Greek island of Symi while on holidays with his wife on Wednesday, and they found him today. I don’t know if you have followed his TV shows, but we’ve followed him fairly closely and he also crops up regularly on ads, and most recently he’s done a series on insomnia here which we were quite interested in. So, we are experiencing that strange sense of grief you have about someone you feel you know reasonably well from their public role passes away, along with nowhere to put it. I ended up getting on what I still call Twitter because X sounds ridiculous and has always stood for “X marks the spot” in my mind. However, I thought I’d acknowledge his passing here, and acknowledge a life well-lived cut tragically short.

As you may recall, I’ve been fighting a chest infection over the last few weeks. Well, finally after three scripts of antibiotics, I am on the mend and starting to climb back up the hill again, and even had a session with the exercise physiologist on Friday.

On Thursday night, Geoff and I headed over to the Bloomfield Gallery in Terrigal for the opening of Karen Bloomfield’s fabulous photography Exhibition: Iceland Sub-zero: A Journey of Unexpected Delight. The gallery is just across the road from Terrigal Beach and I stumbled across the gallery dropping my daughter at work next door a few months ago. I wasn’t sure I was going to be well enough to go at all, but thought even if I only managed to stay for ten minutes, it would be better than nothing. However, I was thrilled to last the full two hours and had such a wonderful time. After all, I had the chance to meet with a few local artists and here a few stories about Karen’s trip to Iceland, and had a bit of a thing for the Icelandic horses, which she photographed. Another favourite was a stunning shot of the Northern Lights. I was particularly interested to meet artist Paul Maklin. He introduced himself as a painter and I said to him I could see that. He started looking for flecks of paint, but there were none, but I could just tell he was a painter and artist just by looking at him in the same way you can spot a ballerina in a room full of people even in a pair of jeans. He mentioned he’ll be taking a course at the gallery soon and I was very interested, but feeling rather shy and not quite ready yet. I did, however, mention that I’d been doing some textile pieces since our trip away and he suggested I check out French-American artist, Louise Bourgeois. I did that when I went home and was lost for quite a few hours absolutely rivetted in her work. I must admit I was rather disappointed to find out, there had been an exhibition of her works at the Art Gallery of NSW in Sydney (which is the major art gallery for NSW) and I’d missed it. Damn! They’d even installed one of her giant spider sculptures. How could I possibly have missed that and why didn’t any of my friends tell me about it? I subscribe to so many different places on Facebook and Instagram and yet I still miss out on significant events and exhibitions, while getting flooded with trivia.

Friday night was also food for thought. I’ve mentioned the ongoing battle to get our kids onto their driver’s licenses. Well, our son is a youth leader at Church and Friday night, he needed a lift to bowling about 30 minutes away. My husband suggested he catch the bus. However, we came to a deal where he would drive there, and his sister would drive home, and all I had to do was sit in the front seat and be the supervising driver. In the end, what started out as a grudge, turned into a blessing chatting along while we listened to his choice of music on the way there and her’s on the way home of Billie Eilish’s new album, expanding my musical horizons along the way.

Saturday, Geoff and I headed out to finally get some wool. The nearest shop is about 20 minutes away in good traffic and what with being sick, I couldn’t get there and I’d run out of red. So Geoff very patiently accompanied me on my yarn shop. Was was trying to stick with natural fibres but the vibrant rainbow type colours were only available in acrylic in a pack of 30. I arrived home with 42 balls of wool, which I now need to find homes for along with other stuff. Being creative and minimal living seem to be at loggerheads. Well, they are here.

After getting petrol and going to Bunnings (hardware store), we headed off to Gosford Sailing Club to watch the sunset. Geoff sails there in the laser fleet. So, we managed to get a table out on the balcony overlooking the marina and sunset where we enjoyed a drink and sweet potato fries and had this photo taken of us, which absolutely captures our personality differences to a tee.

Geoff and I at Gosford Sailing Club. Let’s Play Spot the Extrovert.
Cold Feet

Today, I went for a walk along the beach right at sunset. I usually walk along the beach barefoot so my shoes don’t get wet, and I also love the more natural experience of connecting with the beach through my feet. However, I recently quite a shock. The sand was cold, even painfully cold. My husband had no sympathy: “It’s Winter,” he said. However, I’m one of those typical Australian Winter deniers who have this strange idea that it’s hot and sunny all year, when we do at least officially have four seasons, and sometimes even in one day! Indeed, I’ve spent a lifetime hopping around the beach burning my feet on the hot sand, and getting cold feet seems totally preposterous! The sun set behind me away from the beach, and while I missed out on the more spectacular golden glow of the setting sun, I did get those wonderful rosy after tones…particularly after the battery on my phone had gone flat. Teaches me for not taking my Nikon SLR with me.

In terms of other posts this week, there was: No Meaning for Friday Fictioneers and Brisbane Street Art for Thursday Doors.

Time to draw to a close now, and thank you for popping by.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Natalie the Explorer.

Best wishes,

Rowena

No Meaning: Friday Fictioneers- 6th June, 2024.

“What the?” We asked dumbstruck.

Random objects had been herded together in a gallery window, making no sense at all… an old brass bell, a plant in a terracotta pot, and a few chunks of rock surrounded a handblown glass vase seeming imbued by the spirit of Psyche. Further scrambling the picture, reflections of neon stars from the cafe across the road had invaded the window and clearly didn’t belong.

“Why is it so?”

“Goodness knows, but I’m calling it: The Window Without Meaning“.

With that, the random arrangement of objects suddenly gained a name, an identity, and finally…meaning.

….

100 words PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

I am quite a philosophical sort, and for some reason, I seem to think that if I keep exploring and delving into things, the mysteries of my own life and those around me will somehow make sense. I don’t tend to go down the scientific path and I’m not one to question how a machine works until it doesn’t work, and at that point I call my husband, Geoff because he is great at fixing stuff. I am better attuned to at least trying to help, or at least travel alongside broken people.

Perhaps, you might recall that we were houseminding on the Queensland Gold Coast for a month? During this time, we explored numerous art galleries, and I arrived home not only inspired but I’ve pumping out quite varied works and many of them are using crochet, which I didn’t see on our trip and I’ve never done before. It’s like an alien being has possessed my mind. That said, being creative, it’s not the first time and I’m sure won’t be the last.

THe thing I have noticed with my artworks which are all abstract, is this grappling with meaning yet doesn’t need to explain everything and have all the answers. On the other hand, with my writing, I’m exploring questions, and there needs to be answers. When there aren’t answers or the answers require vigorous research, I often tend to put my project to one side and might not get back to it for awhile- if at all.

I guess, now that I put all of this into words and make it more concrete, I’ve realized that it’s okay to say you don’t know. After all, we don’t know everything.

I wonder if you have any thoughts on this? I’d love to hear from you.

Meanwhile, I’ve been quite unwell over the last couple of weeks with a chest infection. I have acute Interstitial Lung Disease and so it’s hit me like a ton of bricks. Probably worse that I gave it credit for, because it wasn’t as acute as some of the bugs I’ve had before but my cough is lingering on and I’m not really back on my feet yet. On the upside, I’m doing a lot of reading, art, crochet and trying to make sense of myself and the complex world around me.

This has been another contribution to Friday Fictioneers kindly hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields at Addicted to Purple. I encourage you to pop along and have a go. I am surprises by what I can write with only 100 words.

Best wishes,

Rowena