Pickling walnuts. Imagine a slab of sourdough, some fruit chutney (maybe apple and almond or fig and onion) some delicious aged cheddar that bites one’s tongue and pickled walnuts on the top. A thing of joy!
I came back to House from three days in the Big Smoke last week to find my sunflowers had burst into bloom and it made me feel so happy that I broke into a huge smile as I opened the bedroom curtains. I distinctly remember this bold yellow disk grinning at me so that I just had to whisper ‘Wow.’
We all began kayaking about 11 years ago, and in that time have paddled together in many different places up and down our east coast. But over the years we have decreased in number through age and injury and we’re now trying to have one BIG kayak per summer, to add to the little ones we try to have once or twice a week. I’ve not been for many this year because of Mum’s accident and because of windy weather but I wouldn’t miss the BIG one for the world. We augmented our shrinking numbers with two extra ladies this year. A lovely group…
Sometimes hospitals can be so draining and visiting a loved one every day, just so. So after our visit today we loaded a picnic in the car and drove to the southern beaches area.
We had done part of it before, looking at the fire damage from last January. This time we took another turn-off and did the rest and in the process finding a very beautiful little beach to which I shall be bringing my kayak on the next hot north-easterly day.
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.
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’.
Really short post today and with thanks to Louise Saunders on Mornings ABC 936 for reminding me of this song from Billy Thorpe in 1975 and which shall be my anthem! For all those people heading into winter . . . summer in Oz hasn’t changed in 35 years! Except for the SPF’s.