If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know that I was house minding for a friend at Cremorne Point for three weeks in January, and we exchanged texts while she was away including one rather pertinent text: “Have you been to MacCallum Pool yet?” At this point, we’d been to Circular Quay and around The Rocks, off to Manly on the Northern headland and Watson’s Bay on the South but aside from a quick visit when we picked up the key in December, we hadn’t been to MacCallum Pool and I certainly hadn’t been for a swim.
MacCallum Pool has the best views and it’s free of charge open to the public.
So, this swim was clearly overdue and I didn’t want her arriving home and having to confess I couldn’t get around the corner. After having a quiet day having coffee with a friend, I hoped I had plenty of oomph for a swim and set off on the short walk to the pool. The only trouble was that I needed to walk home uphill, which I knew was going to be challenging for my lungs, and so I had to take it slowly in the pool. Pace myself.
Wow!
Actually, I took it very slowly getting in the pool, which is an unfortunate fault of mine. I’m one of those comical characters who agonise their way into the water starting with their big toe and taking forever to put their head underwater if they do at all. Just to compound my shame, there was a group of teenaged boys beside me who really must’ve thought I looked ridiculous. However, in my book I was a champion even for getting wet, and pleased I was able to do two laps (conserving my energy for the walk home, of course).
A Photographer’s Paradise
While Mac Callum Pool was built with a view to swimming, it also makes for amazing photography and I was much more in my element on that front and I’ve also done a much better job at excavating stories about the history of the pool from the old newspapers online (Trove). I will write them up in a separate post as I need to put some thought into that.
Have you ever been to MacCallum Pool and do you have any stories to tell?
Today, I unwittingly marked the Winter Solstice with a drive, which could at a serious stretch be described as a “trip to the country”.
I hadn’t ventured far, when I came across a stand of stunning Autumn trees (which I must admit I’ve stopped to photograph before many moons ago in that haze now simply referred to as “before covid”.) Of course, I immediately pulled over and instantly regretted not packing my SLR. However, I had my phone. Now, what seems to suffice for mere mortals, had to be good enough for me.
A crunchy carpet of Autumn leaves.
By the way, this little drive of mine was all in aid of Miss getting her eyelash extensions done. Well, at least that’s what propelled me off the lounge driving 20 minutes up the hill to Kariong. The whole procedure usually takes about an hour. While she’s there, I usually walk around the Mt Penang Parklands. However, I was only there two weeks ago, and today I was seemingly swept up in a gust of wanderlust and I decided to venture further afield to Somersby, where I might find a nursery or some Autumn trees. Whatever else I ended up doing on this expedition, I was mindful that I needed to go for a walk and get some exercise. My back has been a rusty gate of late and my step counter has been swearing at me. So I really needed to get those steps up and my heart rate moving!
Once again, I was reminded how easy it is to live in our little bubbles and forget what’s just around the corner, or even only slightly further afield. There I was driving along Wiseman’s Ferry Road when I spot a familiar row of Autumn trees resplendent in their crimson and golden splendour glowing in the muted sun. They were absolutely magnificent, especially for me. We live right near the beach and there aren’t that many deciduous trees around here. Our native Australian trees are evergreen, and as much as I often feel these trees are out of place here, I adore them.
Meanwhile, admiring and photographing these gorgeous beauties has taken me down yet another research rabbit warren…trying to identify the leaves. However, I guess I ought to be thankful. In the course of my quest, I stumbled across a post by another beleaguered tree hugger who was trying to identify trees with only their barren skeletons and the texture of their bark to go on. So, it seems I’m decidedly better off, and should be feeling grateful instead.
Well, I am grateful. Truly, I am.
I’m grateful that I had the time to drive out to the trees, park beside the road and stop. I’m grateful that someone had the foresight umpteen years ago to plant those trees, and for whoever owns them now to do whatever they’re doing to nurture and maintain them, while putting up with voyeurs like myself pulling up and disturbing their patch of soil under the sun. I don’t know whether they have to do a lot of raking. However, looking at the number of trees, the volume of leaves they’re losing is staggering which makes me grateful I get all the joys and none of the responsibilities.
The cows were an added bonus and helped authenticate the country experience.
So I guess this brings me back to waiting for Miss, and whether I’m cranky and resent the time I’m waiting around and could be getting on with so, so many things. Or, do I actually appreciate the breathing space and the opportunity to get out of my little neck of the woods and stretch my legs and my photographic-eye a little further afield? It is a choice, and I’ve even surprised myself. I don’t complain. I always find something mind-blowingly wonderful.
What are the seasons up to in your neck of the woods? What have you been exploring? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.
Best wishes,
Rowena
PS I managed to clock up 2,197 steps. Not a personal best but the brutally honest stepcounter doesn’t mess around and told me : “You took 1,699 more steps yesterday than the day before”. Well, at least it’s an improvement!
How has your week been? I hope you’ve had a good one, and I look forward to hearing more about it over a cup of tea or coffee.
After spending four months in captivity, my daughter and I finally made it to the hairdresser this week, followed by my husband yesterday who apparently had his beard trimmed, but he’s still looking like Moses. I haven’t realized my hair had grown so much, and I felt a sense of liberation as my hair fell to the floor. It might be a slight exaggeration, but I figured I knew exactly how a sheep feels after it’s been shorn and that entire fleece is gone. My friend does our hair and so it was also wonderful to see her again. I’ve barely come out of lockdown. As you may recall, I’m vulnerable and need to be careful.
Pearl Beach
I am trying to regain some of my lost fitness, and have been on a few walks. I went to Pearl Beach on Wednesday and met up with my friend Roland. We’ve been working away on his father’s experiences as a Polish Bomber Pilot in WW2. Today, Geoff and I went on a walk around the Woy Woy Waterfront and over the Spike Milligan pedestrian bridge. It wasn’t a spectacular walk but it was exercise and I wasn’t stopping quite every five minutes to take photos like I’ve done on some of our bushwalks. It doesn’t do wonders for increasing my heartrate.
I might come back and add a bit more late, but that’s all for now.
Meanwhile, you might like to join us over at the Weekend Coffee Share, which is hosted by Natalie the Explorer https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/
Late yesterday afternoon, Geoff and I made a hasty getaway to fit in a sunset walk over at Hardy’s Bay, about a 15 minutes drive away. Our kids are now 17 and 15 years old and hardly at that really young stage where we can’t get away without a minder. However, that doesn’t mean we’re not still attached to the leash. We are always only a phone call away.
As those of you who have lived through the teenage years can no doubt attest, you’re still not absolved of your responsibilities as a parent. Indeed, in some ways things can even ramp up. Even if the law doesn’t require you to provide constant supervision and your teens probably couldn’t think of anything worse, you’re still on a leash. Moreover, when they’re small you can delegate much of your supervision responsibilities to daycare, after-school care and grandparents. The former expire once your children start high school, and grandparents while willing are more than likely to be less mobile than they were once upon a time. Indeed, they could well appreciate a helping hand from them.
When it comes to Mum and Dad, they might not want to know or talk to you much of the time, but when trouble strikes, they certainly know how to find you. Overall, you want that. I want that. The alternatives can often be undesirable, and at worse, fatal. You don’t want teenagers in trouble trying to nut out complex situations for themselves, especially when they’re under the influence of drugs, alcohol, peer pressure, fear of being found out and the list goes on. It’s usual for me to pick my daughter and her friend up at odd hours. I never complain. Never lecture. Well, maybe sometimes. I do ask questions. Try to ensure everyone’s okay. I don’t portray myself as the cool mum, but I want them to know I care and I’d rather be the biggest dag and very uncool, and have them feel loved and valued.
A hastily taken snap as we returned to the car.
However, at the same time, we parents also need a break, a breather. We need to be able to walk out the front door and have a bit of down time. Of course, going on a date with my husband would be nice (especially after 4 months in lockdown). However, as I said, I’d much rather come home if there’s a problem. I’d much rather be there for our teens in the event of an emergency. I really do. You do believe me, don’t you?
What might’ve been – sunset at Hardy’s Bay on a previous trip.
Last night, Geoff and I headed over to Hardy’s Bay for a walk and to watch the sunset. However, we’d just managed to set foot onto the jetty and I’d managed to take a couple of photos, when the phone rang. I’d initially thought it was Geoff’s work. He’s in IT and on call. That could mean a trip into Sydney. However, this time it wasn’t work. It was Mr 17. He had a fire pit running at home. It all seemed pretty safe and he’s a scout, and Geoff made sure he had he hose set up beside him. What else could go wrong? Well, it turned out some burning coals had jumped out and he’d stepped on them. Of course, he was barefoot. That’s not because he wasn’t advised to put shoes . Of course, he knew better and living right near the beach, we’re pretty casual with out footwear and I must admit to going barefoot a bit myself, especially when I was younger. I don’t think you’ll ever catch Geoff without shoes on, although I just peered over to check and sure enough…bare feet. However, his shoes are right there beside him and I think he puts them on just to walk around the house. You know, it’s a minefield around here.
Anyway, Mr 17 had Googled his burn and rated it a second degree burn, and there were blisters. That meant a precautionary trip to hospital. Of course, you can just imagine the moans and the “here we go again”. It’s only been a few months since we were back there with our daughter. Surely, we don’t have to run up frequent flyer points going there? Geoff was all set to go and looked at me and said: “You’re not coming?” Well, I felt a bit of a piker. However, I needed to drive our daughter to dance and I’m immuno-repressed and it’s best for me to stay away. Of course, it would’ve been better if we could all have stayed away, but better to be safe than sorry. Geoff and Mr 17 were on their way. I expected to see them in upwards of 3 hours. It no longer amazes me that an emergency can proceed at a snail’s pace.
However, miracles do happen. Not only did they have an express trip through emergency. His foot was fine. Dad’s bandage and the betadine ointment would do the trick. By the time Geoff returned from parking the car, he was through.
We had intended to get out tonight, but time ran away from us. I had a very relaxing time reading out at the new table out the front, and then we had lunch together out there as well…a home date.
How do you find parenting your older children? Any stories to share? I’d love to hear from you.
This is actually my second coffee share post this week, and while it’s too late for the blogshare, I wrote a post from my new blog: Tea With Ethel Turner, which got up in time. However, I still decided to put this together because so much is going on. At least, it seemed that way, but perhaps that’s only because not much has happened for so long what with being in lockdown for the last three months.
Well, the big news is that our NSW State Premier who is simply known as “Gladys” resigned after being hit with corruption charges by the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC). The irony is that the public and the media have almost unanimously come out in support of Gladys and feel ICAC’s timing stinks. We’re due to start coming out of lockdown on 11th October. Covid cases have dropped back own again which is encouraging, but Gladys has been our fearless warrior woman defending us from covid and trying to keep the economy going. Like Victoria’s Premier Daniel Andrews, she’s been giving a 11.00am daily update until about a week or two ago. I didn’t watch these very often, but they were repeated throughout the day and on the nightly news and they brought calm and stability during very tempestuous and uncertain times. Now, Gladys has gone and the Deputy decided to go as well. He’s had enough and is leaving politics. I think someone else has also left, resulting in three by-elections. Goodness knows what’s going to happen now without Gladys to keep covid out. I might be weird, but I already miss her. Gladys, don’t leave us!
Yesterday, Geoff and I went out in the kayaks. I’m not sure whether I’d go so far as saying we went kayaking, because we were test driving how I went in the red fibreglass kayak instead of the much heavier, cumbersome yellow bathtub. It went okay. It felt a lot more unstable and I almost had that sense you have when you’re first earning to ride a bike. I had to be very conscious and focused on what I was doing or I felt I’d lose my balance and end up tipping over. However, tipping over was very unlikely much of the time, and getting beached posed a much greater threat. It was low tide and we headed inland which was more like a wetland or swamp and there was only a depth of about 30 centimetres. We knew a friend of ours was also out kayaking and we eventually caught up with him and a friend. It was so exciting to see him. This normal thing of seeing friends, bumping into friends has become so precious after being in lockdown for 14 weeks now, you’re soon doing the happy dance (which isn’t such a good idea when you have lousy balance and your in a kayak).
The yellow bathtub
Meanwhile, the preparations for Freedom Day are starting to get under way at our place. Freedom Day is scheduled for Monday 11th October. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure what so called freedoms we’ll be getting then, and it doesn’t really apply to vulnerable people like myself, because we have to stay on guard and if anything, be more cautious about who we hang out with. However, I think it allows me to go down to Sydney to see my Mum and Dad and that’s at the top of my out of jail bucket list.
Anyway, as I said, we’ve been doing some work around the house in preparation for being able to have people over here again. Geoff has painted much of the house, although we still have to get onto the front door. I was initially wanting to repair the table out the front, which has also been storing a large fish tank so we couldn’t use the table. A friend of mine had found a lovely old table beside the road and I’d fallen in love with it, and he was thinking it was too big for his room and he might get rid of it. Well, naturally I quickly put up my hand. However, we already have a few excess table inside the house, and I was trying to find the right time to mention the new addition to Geoff. A table is a very difficult thing to hide, especially when I needed him to pick it up! Meanwhile, my friend was starting to lose patience with the delays. I was getting frustrated with the delays. I could be sitting out the front in the sun reading instead of being stuck inside. I needed a reading nook. I needed somewhere covid friendly for friends to chat.
Picking up the table.
Well, we have now picked up the table, and today I started sanding the top back and I’ll finish it off tomorrow and also paint the legs.
Going against the grain like this, these scratches had to go.
It’s been an interesting process sanding back the table top. While some people deliberately destress their furniture, the table had some nasty scratches which looked like a cat had gone crazy. In another patch was very badly scratched after goodness knows what idiot madly tried sandpapering the varnish off working against the grain. These scratches didn’t add character and while I’d never be sitting at a friend’s place chatting and eating dessert and counting the number of scratches on their table, the thought did cross my mind. It’s probably that same part of my brain which frets about “red pen” (a writer’s nemesis) and having one comma out of place in a published work. Yes, I know. I need to go and get a life. Believe me, I would if I could. So, after using the orbital sander for the best part of 3-5 hours and still having scratches, but now having patches of light appearing through the immovable dark (the table is made of oak and had been vanished). I couldn’t see how I could get get the surface to a point of equilibrium. To a point where it didn’t look like I’d tried really really hard to get it right but had clearly given up and thrown in the towel. I asked Geoff if we could apply some varnish stripper to clean it up a bit. IT’s only at this point that he brings out the belt sander, which was clearly the right tool for the job and in minutes sawdust and varnish were flying and the table top was as smooth as a baby’s bot. Well, it will be when I’m done. The battery had gone flat and it was getting late. We didn’t want to disturb the neighbours.
A rare sighting of Rowie using power tools.
However, it’s now looking like I’ve become one of those fusspots who are never satisfied. As all that dark varnish disintegrated before my eyes and those immovable scratches were pulverised into sawdust, the tabletop started to look rather plain and devoid of character. It looked like it had had it’s personality removed, and that somehow even those very scratches which grated on me like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard, gave give it character. The table now had a perfect face, but it almost appeared unnatural. Or, at least it will when I finish it off tomorrow.
Anyway, with the way things are around here, it won’t take it long to get knocked around a bit. This house is the personification of “Misrule”.
Well, on that note, I’d better head off. I don’t think I’ve actually asked you much about how you’re doing and what madness is going on in your neck of the woods.
Meanwhile, you might like to join us over at the Weekend Coffee Share, which is hosted by Natalie the Explorer https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/
Please forgive me for my recent negativity, pessimism and lack of gratitude. However, there are times where the glass is neither half-empty, nor half-full and no matter which way you look at it, it’s still bone dry. There’s not even a drop of water left to relieve a parched thirst, or even a longing imagination.
It is what it is, isn’t it?!!
That’s what we’ve come to say about those interminable patches of grinding difficulty.
Well, thankfully, my glass isn’t empty yet. Rather, I was even starting to think my glass was starting to refill, as I meandered through the wildflowers with my camera and feasted on such indisputable floral beauty through the lens. Moreover, although I was only a ten minute drive away from home, I could have been miles away from civilization. Off with the bunyips even!
Could be anywhere!
That was until a friend sent me a text while I was out there. I’m not one to be glued to my phone, but I do keep it on me in case of emergencies when I’m out, and I’m sure it pinged. I think I was sitting down on a log at the time reflecting on life, the universe and everything and decided to reply. Things have been pretty rough for her, and she’s spent the last couple of weeks in hospital with her back against the wall. It was the right thing. After all, there’s finding things hard, and then there’s scaling vertical cliffs by your fingernails. I’ve done that a few times with my lung issues, and wouldn’t wish that horror on my worst enemy. I wanted to be there. Yet, at the same time, I also have to pace myself. As you may recall, I’ve lost four close friends recently and my daughter’s unwell. With my own capacity so overwrought, I’ve largely had to withdraw and regroup.
However, whether you say it was God, destiny or being technically inept, somehow we ended up on a Facetime call together. In case you don’ t know what that is, it’s a mobile phone call with visual. I thought she’d called me. She thought I’d called her. Neither of us meant to, and yet this accidental call was freakishly phenomenal.
It all began when she asked me how I was. Well, I have a bit of a dry sense of humour, and joked: “at least I’m doing better than this tree!” I turned my phone around to show her the charcoaled cavity that was once a gum tree. There wasn’t much left of it. It was as dead as a doornail, the embodiment of hopeless despair. I was in fine form by comparison, and I actually started to perk up. Moreover, although I’m not be the world’s best photographer, I have an eye, and appreciated the way the hole blazed through the empty trunk, created a window frame out onto the bush.
The healthy top of the tree
I don’t know why I looked up. There was no reason to. Yet, I did. Much to my surprise, it turned out this dead lump of charcoal was actually still a living tree. There were healthy branches and a thriving crown of leaves up above. I couldn’t believe it, and have no idea how it’s even possible, although gum trees are famed for their resilience. They grow right on the edge of rocky cliffs with only a smattering of sandy soil to sustain them, and they somehow recover from horrific bushfire damage like this one and defy all logic. Mind you, gum trees are also known to fall over at the drop of a hat, and aren’t called “widow-makers” for nothing.
Anyway, all of that had a profound impact. Restored my faith in miracles. Reminded me to keep seeing things sunny side up and holding onto my faith in better days, which it’s starting to slip. Believe that God actually can and does answer prayer. He hears me. I am not forsaken.
However, that wasn’t my only discovery for the day.
I ended up taking my friend on my walk through the wildflowers and stuck my phone inside a lush bush of glowing yellow flowers which simply made my heart sing. She absolutely loved it…not only the capacity to enjoy the flowers, but she also loved my commentary. It was very simple and even child-like as I bumbled around the flowers chatting away like a much younger, female, Australian David Attenborough. It was all completely spontaneous, which was its beauty.
As it turned out, I’d stumbled across a way of taking somebody out of their world and transplanting them somewhere else.
That was, perhaps, the greatest miracle of all, and I fully intend to expand on it!
Do you have any survival stories you’d like to share? Please leave a link in the comments below.
My apologies if you were wanting to go on a bear hunt- especially for koala bears. Instead, we’re off on a Waratah Hunt. The Waratah is the stunning red floral emblem of NSW, and they’re rare as hen’s teeth in the wild. However, they used to be endemic to our local area on the NSW Central Coast in Greater Sydney, and there’s a patch of them beside the road on the way to nearby Patonga. So, off we go. I’ve even given you a map, although it’s probably not much good to you, and you’ll need to consult the oracle.
By the way, if you’re one of those task-focused A to B types, you’d better leave now because we’re not just checking out the Waratahs. I’m a firm believer in what John Lennon said “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”. Moreover, too many of us live our lives through blinkers, losing sight of the rich diversity of life around us. So, while we’re here, you’ll also enjoy a luscious smorgasbord of Spring wildflowers, and even a few carbonised gum trees.
Flannel Flowers
By the way, let me remind you we’re still in dreaded lock down here. In fact, all of New South Wales is currently in lock down, and we need to wear masks when leaving the house, excluding exercise. It’s been about 2.5 months for us now, and this weird way of living is becoming the norm. Hugging a friend is a capital crime, when it used to be such an integral part of me, and so many of us. However, as usual, there are always winners and losers. No doubt, this tightening of social boundaries has been a relief to many introverts, who are glad to see the back of us beastly random huggers.
While hugging beyond your household is out, as long as you’re not in the red zone, you’re as free as a bird as long as you’re exercising alone or with members of your own household or your significant other. So, in a literal sense, I’m not really locked down at all. I just have to stay away from people. This was okay for a while, but it’s wearing thin. I’m really getting to the point where I’ve had enough of the view. I want my people back within arm’s reach – and not just one at a time either!
Me,myself and I out for a walk.
Yet, having said that, I am till making the most of our beautiful outdoors and wanted to share my wildflower walk with you. Of course, the Waratahs were the jewel in the crown, but they had some stiff competition, and almost lost out to masses of golden pea flowers which lit up like lightbulbs in the sun. They were absolutely amazing and there were so many of them. I felt so happy…even joyful.
It’s that weird contradiction, isn’t it?!! The darker the shadow, the brighter the light. I was staring at these flowers with my eyes out on stalks fully drugged – especially with all that luscious golden sunshine all around me. Hello! It had been a week since I’d last ventured beyond my letterbox. I hadn’t been feeling well in a physical sense and a bit achy. Nothing serious, but enough to keep me home enjoying my research and pinned to my chair by the dog (I’ve taken to calling Zac the Demotivation Manager as he’s seemingly hard of hearing, and makes it quite difficult to stand up and get out of my chair).
Burned out gum tree, which still had a thriving crown of leaves growing at the top.
As beautiful as it all is, it still feels weird to be able to kiss a waratah and hug a burnt out gum tree, but not a friend. I can’t drive an hour down the road to visit my Mum and Dad and see them face-to-face, let alone give them one of those filthy germ-transmitting things formerly known as a hug. I celebrated my birthday with friends and family via zoom, and this week we’ll be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary the same way. I was wanting to have a party to celebrate something, anything. I have been sick for so many birthdays and this year when I’m well, we’re in lock down. I’m not happy, Jan!
However, I also have to acknowledge that the reason why I’m so well, is because I’m isolated, wearing masks, and hand sanitizing with obsessive compulsion. We get our shopping delivered. The measures to protect me from covid, have also kept colds and those dreaded chest infections away.
I hope you enjoyed these flowers as much as I did.
How are things going in your neck of the woods? I hope you’re going okay.
Before I ask you how your week was, and if anything, indeed, anything at all has transpired in your neck of the woods, let me offer you a drink.
If you’re in lockdown here in NSW, you might be wanting a stiff drink, although it could be worse. Covid could be spreading like wildfire unabated. We had 830 cases overnight and three deaths. Parts of Sydney have now gone into an extreme lockdown and a nightly curfew from 9.00pm to 5.00am I believe. Meanwhile, we live on the NSW Central Coast which was classified as part of Greater Sydney, but we lobbied the State government to be reclassified “regional”. That was passed, and so we’ll be left out of future Sydney lockdowns unless our own incidence warrants it. That’s a relief, I think.
Meanwhile, over the last couple of months, frictions have been mounting in the community. There’s the vaxers versus anti-vaxers, different attitudes to wearing masks and as the incidence of covid in Sydney has shot up and Police surveillance has increased, heated discussions about protecting civil liberties have also eschewed. Again these tensions climaxed on the weekend with large, sometimes violent, protests in Sydney, Melbourne and the Gold Coast and it just makes me wonder what on earth these people are thinking and what gives them the right to keep the rest of us locked down longer?
My personal view is that too many people take breathing for granted. As someone who has crook lungs and lives with dodgy breathing all the time and has experienced crisis point, being able to breathe is something to take seriously. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not important. Indeed, most of us think that not being able to walk is one of the worst things that can happen to you. However, not being able to breathe is fatal. I’m not prepared to play Russian Rouette with my own life let alone the lives of those I care about. My 15 year old daughter sums things up well: “Why can’t they just stay home for a month so we can get out of this?” Short term pain, for long term gain. Sounds logical to me. However, we’re still hearing about parties being held. Party is now a euphemism for “super-spreader event”. Well, at least, it is for the parties that make the news.
Meanwhile, I’ve been sinking into a deep state of hibernation. I’ve always been a bit of a pyjama princess. However, now after wearing PJs for a few months, and then putting on real clothes, they feel so scratchy on my skin. Unpleasant. I bought a really soft pair of cloud pyjamas from PJ Guru Peter Alexander, and they’ve been so soft. However, they’ve probably had the equivalent of 10years wear during lockdown and are wearing out. Never fear. I’ve ordered a replacement.
Anyway, as I said, I’ve been in a state of hibernation. I wasn’t feeling 100%, and didn’t get out for a walk for a few days. Then, I felt a bit wonky on my feet, and decided to wait until Geoff was free. On Saturday, we drove over to Pearl Beach and went for a walk around the rocks and peering into the rockpools for signs of life. It was rather liberating to get out. You know how it is once you finally fight off the inertia and get out there and you feel like you’re soaring on eagle’s wings, and wonder what took you so long to get out there. I blame the politicians. They keep telling me to stay home. I know they didn’t tell me to eat chocolate, and they do allow us out for exercise. However, the predominant message is to stay home, and I have.
So, after going out for our walk yesterday, Geoff and I went out kayaking today. I know that sounds incredibly sporty, especially for someone with disability issues. Well, I can assure you that I’m no Jessica Fox (Australian gold medal Olympian kayaker). I’m slow and I don’t have a lot of stamina, but we did manage to move and had in some ways a rather indulgent time out there on the water together. It was pure bliss. You can read more about it here: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2021/08/23/kayaking-in-lockdown-a-new-beginning/
Having a pair of kayak’s on top of the car makes us look so adventurous and such a different interpretation of myself compared to writing in my chair at home.
Meanwhile, we’ve been watching The Voice on TV. This year, the judges are Guy Sebastian, Jessica Mauboy, Rita Ora and Keith Urban. I always love watching the show hearing the music and the backstories of both the performers and judges. It’s all about people to me, and being an extrovert I need people more than ever. I see the judges smiling and chatting away on the TV and all sense of perspective just evaporates and they’re right here in the loungeroom with us and not a thousand miles away. I don’t know where it was being filmed but they’re hugging, breathing on each other without a concern in the world. So, it can’t be Sydney right here right now, which we all know anyway as these things are always filmed in advance.
By the way, here’s a real treat from The Voice, where Guy Sebastian performs Climb Every Mountain with contestant Julee-Ann who is legally blind and had to ask if anyone had turned a chair after an absolutely stellar performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKfOlZtNlxI
“We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch – we are going back from whence we came.”
–John F. Kennedy
Courage comes in many forms. My breathing has been a bit strained lately, but I went for my first beach swim in over 12 months this afternoon. No glasses on, I was also literally blind as a bat, and I took Geoff down with me in case of all emergencies. None ensued.
Just out of the water – Ocean Beach NSW – January 2021.
By the way, Geoff didn’t go in. He’s a sailor, and for him “swimming is a fail”.
“The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides, and in its depths it has its pearls too.”
–Vincent Van Gogh
I have a love-hate relationship with swimming, which is hard to understand when you look at our beautiful beach, which is only 10 minutes walk away. Many would sell their right kidney to be able to spend their life at our beautiful local beach and be able to immerse themselves in that crystal clear, salty water which is sparkling in the luscious Summer sun. Then, there’s me who doesn’t like getting wet. Indeed, Geoff was in stitches watching me take eternity to even get my ankles wet. He did an impressive impersonation, which looked embarrassingly like an old lady and not a very gutsy one at that. However, it takes more than that to embarrass me. I might’ve been emerging from my “swim” with only the tip of my ponytail wet, but I did get wet.
Moreover, just to show off just a little, I found my way back to my towel. I swear I did, even though Geoff had seen me emerge from the water and had walked down to greet me.
My brother and I at Avoca Beach around 1979 aged 10.
Going to the beach brings back many treasured memories. While I didn’t live near the beach growing up, we drove down to Sydney’s Northern Beaches for day trips and rented a beach house for a week most years up at Wamberal or Avoca on the NSW Central Coast just North of Sydney, and not far from where we currently live. The waves could be pretty strong and I remember holding onto mostly my mother’s hand and feeling almost invincible. Holding onto Mum or Dad’s hand somehow seemed to save me from anything back then.
Our kids have only ever lived in our current home, and so they’ve always lived a stone’s throw from the beach. We’ve had some wonderful times going swimming, walking the dogs, having picnics with friends. It’s been really beneficial living right near the beach during covid with all that space and air around us, and not much in the way of crowds most of the time. It’s also been a real lifesaver.
Do you like swimming? Do you go to the beach? I’d love to hear from you.
Best wishes,
Rowena
Our son at Broken Head, near Byron Bay, January 2011. I absolutely loved the absolute joy beaming out of my daughter’s smile in this photo taken in Byron Bay January 2011 about to turn five and go to big school.
Before you get too comfortable, we’ll need to duck down to the supermarket because I just saw these irresistible Apple & Ricotta Fritters with Cinnamon Sugar on TV. I’ve never made anything like this myself before. However, I’ve been getting quite adventurous lately and really want to give them a whirl. Here’s the link: https://www.farmtofork.com.au/recipe-index/apple-and-ricotta-fritters-with-cinnamon-sugar
Are you tempted as well?
Humph…
Anyway, were you almost shocked like me that it’s now November and another year has almost gone up in smoke? I know this year is 2020, and it’s a year we’d all like to accelerate through, destroy, blow up, delete or all of the above. However, a year is still a year, and good things have happened in 2020. My cousin and his wife had a baby last week and friends got married and we’ve even been to a few parties lately. Of course, we’re rather shielded from the full impact of the virus and also extensive lockdowns here, but I’ve also been researching WWI intensively this year and that puts 2020 into perspective.
Last week was a bit clunky around here. There’s been the ongoing saga of our son’s subject choices for his last year at school and trying to keep him there for another year when he doesn’t need it to go into sound engineering. I’ve been doing my research which is very slow and I must admit I’ve been doing a lot of avoidance. I find it all confusing, and since I went down the university path and that was over 30 years ago, a lot has changed and I’m starting to feel like I’m from the era of the horse and cart (or is that actually his impression of me?) Not much has been said for a few days and he was home sick today. I can’t help wondering if I lie low and don’t say anything, he’ll accidentally get through Year 12 and he’ll at least have that under his belt before he heads off to TAFE to get a trade certificate to get into the sound engineering course he wants to do. However, this is probably too much to hope for and more stress is just around the corner.
Meanwhile, my research is progressing well. I’m still beavering away on my WWI research. I posted yesterday a South Australian farmer I’m researching, Herbert A Stewart who found close to 200 messages in bottles washed up on the beach near his home in Rendelsham , South Australia. He forwarded the letters onto their intended destinations with a cover letter, and there was one day where he found 47 bottles. So, at times he was really under the pump and while this would seem a unconventional way of supporting the war effort, it would’ve made such a difference to the families and friends of these men. I was also surprised to find that some of the messages in bottles thrown overboard in the Great Australian Bight were found in New Zealand. That’s extraordinary. I’ve also found it rather calming and reassuring to think about the ocean currents circulating around the world regardless of everything else that’s going on just like the sunrise and the sunset. There’s that continuity. At least, there was before cllimate change.
This afternoon, I went for a quick walk along the beach. Even though it’s almost Summer here, a cold wind was blowing and so I just did my walk and didn’t hang about. Not unsurprisingly, I almost expecting to find piles of bottles scattered across the beach after doing all my research. However, there wasn’t much to see on our beach today….just a jellyfish.
Meanwhile, it’s getting quite late. So, I’m going to head off.
So, what’s been going on for you? I hope you’re okay and keeping safe.
Beyond the Flow 