Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Luthier's Cello No. 10

This is the luthier's 1oth cello being played so beautifully by a mystery cellist. This wee film shows just a little bit of the magic that the luthier creates with his own hands.

And he brought me breakfast in bed yesterday after I have spent the last few days being a surly cow. He is the best.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


For winter's rains and ruins are over, 
And all the season of snows and sins; 
The days dividing lover and lover, 
The light that loses, the night that wins; 
And time remembered is grief forgotten, 
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, 
And in green underwood and cover 
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.

- Algernon Swinburne.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Les Contes des Fées

The smallest girl turned four and is not small anymore. She is rapidly shooting up and gaining on her brother and is also taking birthday princess-dom to new heights. Don't be fooled by the pink fairy gear, she is a ruthless dictator who bears no fools and leaves no room 
for the slightest interpretation of her will. 

 J and I were stupidly proud of ourselves for constructing the petit chateau pour la petite princess. Donna Hay might not think much of our rustic, slightly leaning manifestation of her design, but screw her and her insane obsession with pale blue and utter pristine-ness. We stuck sparklers in the top and were rapt with the effect on the little pink party-goers and that it didn't topple over. 

Meet Smiley, as she has been ironically named.  This beautiful Waldorf doll from Poppy Bean and Bloss, is the prized birthday gift. She fits into the family perfectly as she already has a dirty face and has become Sophie's constant companion. The theory for these Waldorf dolls, I think. is that they don't show emotion so that the child can project their own emotions on to it, or something like that?  Experts please correct me if I am wrong. Sophie did ask "Why isn't she smiling, Mum?"  and so to compensate for her lack of expression, first entitled her "Saddie", thought better of it and now she is 'Smiley'. 

As for me, I have again wandered away from my own space and spent some time dwelling in the world of what I wish I had rather than investing that energy in loving what I've got. It's cyclical, I guess. Happy to say that a conversation and coffee with the luthier has returned me to the planet and to the plan. Its so good to feel that, even though you occasionally become unearthed and carried away, the plan made ages ago is the one that you always come back to, and that progress has been made, even if sometimes it feels like the steps have been infinitesimal.

The sun is out on the island today. 
Temperatures are in the mid-20's! Holey moley, its a heatwave!

 Handsome children are bursting from the bushes.  

Pretty maids and bees are buzzing around the ruffled lavender.  

Pretty sweet this spring life, huh?

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Take My Breath Away

(Lyrics by Claire Hamill)
Tuck & Patti

Sometimes it amazes me,
how strong the power of love can be,
and sometimes you just take my breath away.
You've watched my love grow like a child,
sometimes gentle and sometimes wild,
and sometimes you just take my breath away.

* It's too good to slip by,
it's too good to lose,
too good to be there just to use.
Gonna stand on a mountain top and tell the news,
that you take my breath away.

Your beauty is there in all I see,
and when I feel your eyes on me,
ooh don't you know you just take my breath away.
My life is yours,
my heart will be,
singing for you eternally,
oh don't you know you just take my breath away.

Sometimes it amazes me,
how strong the power of love can be,
and sometimes you just take my breath away.
My life is yours,
my heart will be,
singing for you eternally,
oh don't you know you just take my breath away.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Oliver's Legacy or Why I Often Feel Like Fagin.

The Smith breakfast table.
The princess unstoppable chattering away.
The luthier politely, "Stop talking and eat your breakfast."
Sacha, looking up from his corn flakes, adds
"Yeah, shut up and drink your gin."

Monday, October 03, 2011


The sun is out on the island and days are officially longer.
Energy is higher and anticipation of sunny times abound.

Yoga in the mornings, salad on the menus.
Life after school.

Work in the garden.
Black-eyed Susans, lavender ruffles and fairy magnolias.

Clean sheets, bags to the Salvos.
Flowers in the vase.

Chaos under some control.

Totem tennis, footy at the park.
Picnics, and bike rides.

Garden parties. Pimms.
Dresses and laughs.

Difficult Dirt

Once there was a friendship.
Exotic and dark, it sprouted in difficult dirt. Tended with anticipation,
its potential was thrilling. It flourished, intertwining us two.

Ensnaring us in its tendrils, it encircled us through life and death,
the occasional blooms spectacular.

But time rot perished it,
Apathy pruned abusively and those rare blossoms failed.

Obligatory revivals were attempted, forced and bitter,
Like CPR on a dead man.
Leaving us at a distance to stare at its remains.

Left to a dusty corner pot it hangs, dry and brittle,
Like a macrame-clad maiden hair. Present, but a memory.

Once I had a friendship.
It sprouted in difficult dirt
But it flourished and intertwined us two.