(there may be those reading this who don’t understand the above image of glasses. Aussies will know! ; These are the infamous glasses of the equally infamous Aussie icon, Dame Edna Everidge )
As a writer of historical fiction, one appreciates all the grand historical times – the Greeks, Romans, Dark Age Britain, Vikings, Byzantines, Renaissance. Sweeping, glorious stories that are the stepping stones of the world as we know it today.
But sometimes, history is miniscule. And personal.
“Click go the shears boys, click, click, click,
Wide is his blow and his hands move quick,
The ringer looks around and is beaten by a blow,
And curses the old snagger with the bare-bellied yoe…”
It’s very quiet in the shearing shed, the day before shearing. Especially on a quiet winter’s day where the light sparkles. It’s something special after almost a year of drought, to gaze out upon green paddocks and pasture beginning to grow…
There is an internationally recognised art facility in town – MONA, the Museum of Old and New Art.
Till now, my husband and myself have always found other things to do than visit this fine collection. People would say ‘You haven’t been yet?’ and we’d sheepishly say, ‘No…’
Cold Christmases? Snow? Robins sitting on a yuletide log whilst carollers sing with lighted lanterns?
It’s such a perfect picture and one that I grew up with courtesy of books, Christmas cards and fledgling TV programmes.
I remember at primary school when we made our own Christmas cards and I couldn’t WAIT to get hold of the glitter to sprinkle around because the glitter would be the winterlight dancing off the snowflakes that I was contriving to design.
But our reality here in Australia is really so very different…
In the past when my kids were young, it was decorated when they got home from school with Christmas music playing and the first fruit mince pies of the season to eat as we hung tinsel and baubles.
Now, I do it at whatever time of the day I want. Just me and Dog – he sniffs the decorations as they are unpacked and then looks on as I hang this and that. Finally we stand back, look at each other and … go for a walk…
‘Creativity is characterised by the ability to perceive the world in new ways, to find hidden patterns, to make connections between seemingly unrelated phenomena, and to generate solutions.’
So you see it isn’t all arty-farty, you know. All painting, sculpture, writing and so on…
I’m a light sleeper.
But lately, owing to a brief illness, I have been sleeping like the proverbial log. My head laying on the pillow, eyes closing and the next morning, waking to not a wrinkle or fold in the bedding from a tempestuous night.
Tonight, however, is more like old times…