Domestic Goddess? Nooo…
What does a writer do when she’s finished the book she’s writing and is waiting for the edits to begin?
Firstly she celebrates by walking on the beach.
And thinks about the man who inspired the saga.
What does a writer do when she’s finished the book she’s writing and is waiting for the edits to begin?
Firstly she celebrates by walking on the beach.
And thinks about the man who inspired the saga.
The shears were clicking today. If you listened to the song, it will require a whole other post from me to translate the different Aussie terms used, so we might leave that for another time. Suffice to say it’s an iconic tune that sums up the agricultural history of Australia beautifully.
It’s nearly the beginning of winter. Another month-ish.
Today it was 26 degrees at the farm, 78 degrees Fahrenheit. And I am back in shorts and a polo shirt. The wind is howling and we have a bushfire close by. Another one – nearly in winter!
Spent a lovely morning at Chinamens’ Bay…
The sky had the look of autumn about it and the water has cooled to 16 degrees Celsius.
The kayak hasn’t been used since that hot day of the Grand Memorial Kayak, a month ago.
I belong to a group of kayakers who have been paddling on and off for 10 years. As we reach various ages and various levels of decrepitude, our numbers are shrinking and so last year we decided on a Grand Memorial Kayak once a year at the very least.
Went away 2 weeks ago on a light aircraft to spend a day in the remote southwest of Tasmania in a world heritage area.
Please understand the term ‘remote’ – 6 days walking to get to civilisation through rugged and dangerous mountains and bushland. Or by boat, sailing in inhospitable waters. And please also understand that I HATE flying and suffer from claustrophobia causing acute anxiety!
I went below!
Apropos of the last post on Notorious, the caravel…
We attended the Wooden Boat Festival and I went aboard this amazing replica.
Lack of space is the most intense sensation – I had thought caravels were so much bigger.
At the marina the other day, in the little coastal village of Triabunna, looked up and saw rigging that seemed so anachronistic.
Being drawn to all things medieval, had to blink twice thinking mind was slipping as I write Gisborne: Book of Knights.
Saturday was Australia Day and we were meant to spend it on the water. That was the plan. But it showered and blew and so it was cancelled. But today…
The north corner of Chinamens Beach, Maria Island…
Wake up and get straight into swimsuit. Sky is pale blue, maybe smoke haze from Victoria.
Down to the beach to favourite pozzie in front of pine trees. Smells resinous in the warmth.
In water by 10AM. Glorious. Walk through waist deep shallows in boat channel, moving out of way of incomers and outgoers. Then just dive in and swim a few lengths between the marker poles. Float on back like a star. Hair drifting out, rocking with the odd tiny wave, can hear the odd tic-tic-tic sound of ‘under the sea’.