Lib said this morning when I asked what would you like for breakfast, "Bacon and eggs". This was like music to my ears. I just love bacon and eggs for breakfast.
Most mornings I have two eggs for breakfast, fried slowly and served with something else, often leftovers from the previous night, or maybe a lamb chop or two, or a sausage, or corn and tomatoes, and always onions, love onions, and they are so good for the ticker.
Digressing, for those readers who know me well and read this blog to keep up with the family progress, Lib has finished her radiotherapy. She's fit and well and confident, as she heads into the next phase, tablet hormone treatment.
But the thing is, I use egg rings, I like them nice and tidy. But, it is art. I strive to have perfect eggs. You must well grease the rings, they need to to be well heated, low heat, before cracking and dropping the eggs into the rings. This in itself is a skillfull thing. Drop the white in slowly so it congeals around the base of the ring, therefore not leaking out as happens if it is dropped too quickly. Then, drop the yolk. I try to get the yolk exactly in the middle, so ideally there is a perfect circle with the yolk, a perfect circle in itself, in the middle. I add cayenne pepper to the yolk, an artistic flair and healthy additive. The egg rings have to be removed at just the rught time, before the whole is too cooked, and the artform becomes damaged. Also if left too long the egg white sticks to the ring and is difficult to remove.
This ritual I follow nearly daily when I have my eggs for breakfast. Truth is, maybe once in a hundred I get it right on. Usually the yolk is slightly off centre, the ring leaks a little, and sticks too much. It really can be so frustratingly defiant of all my precise attention.
Never mind, the eggs are alwas enjoyed greatly.
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Something in the Air
There is definitely, something in the air. I can feel it, I can see what it does, but what is it? I know not. I think it is something astrological.
Back to that in a minute. The song 'Something in the Air' by Thunderclapp Newman was a No 1 hit in 1969. To hear it now, or even think of it, stirs emotions in me that come from deep in my psych from my 17yo adolescent trauma. It was a song about change, revolution and inspiration. I think of trips to Lorne and district with RR, sleeping in the car, drinking beer by a fire in cold weather, hiking, climbing waterfalls, and enjoying the new found freedoms we had reached. Yes it was a revolution for us.
I think of driving on a Saturday out to Preston early in 1972. It was early in the football season. My team Ormond Church of Christ was playing Preston Methodists in the Sth East Suburban Churches Football League. Preston had been allowed into the comp that year, I know not why, Preston is a northern suburb. They and a couple of other clubs had been kicked out of the league they were in the previous year because of brawling. This day we and Preston were undefeated and we tripped out to their homeground not quite knowing how we'd go. I gave a lift to a bloke named Mick Hughes, a new player for us, a rangy half back flanker with long legs and hair, a good footballer, he'd played a couple of seasons at Mordialloc in the VFA. Mick was a uni student and 'Something in the Air' was played on the radio. After it he talked all the way about the coming revolution. I wonder what became of Mick, he was a hell of a nice bloke. That particular day we were in great form and and we blitzed them. Their coach afterwards came in to the visitors rooms and said what a wake up call they'd had, they thought they should have entered our comp in a higher grade and thought D grade would be a pushover for them. We played them again later that year on our home ground, and in the second semi and Grand Final. Unfortunately they beat us in all.
Today I picked ten bunches of snowball viburnum flowers and ten bunches of white dogwood blossom at our house and some lilac. The size, fullness and beauty of the blossom was amazing, even to me who is used to such pleasures. I picked also some bay foliage (it's starting to shoot it's new growth so after about 9 months picking bay I'll be stopping now till January when it's finished the growth spurt and has firmed up) and some green beech (which shot a couple of weeks ago and is still too soft yet but I picked some in hope it stands up as the bloody rosellas always eat that particular tree for some reason before it's firm enough for me).
As I unloaded at the farm, looking around at all the lovely blossom and foliage I said to Meredith just how good everything is this year. She said yes, it's weird, but blossom is full and lovely, and leaves are lush and large, when really we haven't had enough rain for this to be so. September was dry, and last March set records for heat and dry. And the months in between weren't great, drier than usual in aggregate.
She said, "You may think this is crazy, but I think it has something to do with that huge moon we had earlier in the year. It's something that won't happen again for so many years."
My response was, "Could it be? I tell you what, I've never seen Mars and Venus so bright in all my life, and I watched them and two other planets (Pluto and Jupiter?) all in line across the sky many times, shining strong and bright. Driving home in winter Mars seemed huge in the east, and alighting at home I looked to the west an Venus shone lke a beaut, the other two making a line. The night sky has been exhilerating."
I have never known the sweet pittosporum to flower so profusely and the scent to be so strong. It has been intoxicating for weeks when I go out the back door. And the hills to the east are dotted with white blossom on the silvertop trees and when I checked the bees Monday they had shaken off last season's malaise and were gathering honey.
So I don't know what but there's something in the air. There's so much we don't know and I have a feeling that life on earth is intricately connected with everything else and the cosmos, far moreso than we will ever understand. Plants, fish, birds, elepants, buffaloes, beavers, cats, dogs, primates, insects, fungi, reptiles..everything..rivers, mountains, oceans...all connected to the earth and sun and moon and stars. Every leaf is a little solar energy receptor absorbing carbon and pumping out oxygen. It's hard to get your head around. And if you were to dig straight down a couple of kilometres you'd get very hot and soon thereafter hit molten rock. Bizarre!
There's something in the air now, on our level. I feel it. A revolution in how we live, produce energy. "Call out the instigators, because there's something in the air, and you know that it's right, because the revolution's here."
Back to that in a minute. The song 'Something in the Air' by Thunderclapp Newman was a No 1 hit in 1969. To hear it now, or even think of it, stirs emotions in me that come from deep in my psych from my 17yo adolescent trauma. It was a song about change, revolution and inspiration. I think of trips to Lorne and district with RR, sleeping in the car, drinking beer by a fire in cold weather, hiking, climbing waterfalls, and enjoying the new found freedoms we had reached. Yes it was a revolution for us.
I think of driving on a Saturday out to Preston early in 1972. It was early in the football season. My team Ormond Church of Christ was playing Preston Methodists in the Sth East Suburban Churches Football League. Preston had been allowed into the comp that year, I know not why, Preston is a northern suburb. They and a couple of other clubs had been kicked out of the league they were in the previous year because of brawling. This day we and Preston were undefeated and we tripped out to their homeground not quite knowing how we'd go. I gave a lift to a bloke named Mick Hughes, a new player for us, a rangy half back flanker with long legs and hair, a good footballer, he'd played a couple of seasons at Mordialloc in the VFA. Mick was a uni student and 'Something in the Air' was played on the radio. After it he talked all the way about the coming revolution. I wonder what became of Mick, he was a hell of a nice bloke. That particular day we were in great form and and we blitzed them. Their coach afterwards came in to the visitors rooms and said what a wake up call they'd had, they thought they should have entered our comp in a higher grade and thought D grade would be a pushover for them. We played them again later that year on our home ground, and in the second semi and Grand Final. Unfortunately they beat us in all.
Today I picked ten bunches of snowball viburnum flowers and ten bunches of white dogwood blossom at our house and some lilac. The size, fullness and beauty of the blossom was amazing, even to me who is used to such pleasures. I picked also some bay foliage (it's starting to shoot it's new growth so after about 9 months picking bay I'll be stopping now till January when it's finished the growth spurt and has firmed up) and some green beech (which shot a couple of weeks ago and is still too soft yet but I picked some in hope it stands up as the bloody rosellas always eat that particular tree for some reason before it's firm enough for me).
As I unloaded at the farm, looking around at all the lovely blossom and foliage I said to Meredith just how good everything is this year. She said yes, it's weird, but blossom is full and lovely, and leaves are lush and large, when really we haven't had enough rain for this to be so. September was dry, and last March set records for heat and dry. And the months in between weren't great, drier than usual in aggregate.
She said, "You may think this is crazy, but I think it has something to do with that huge moon we had earlier in the year. It's something that won't happen again for so many years."
My response was, "Could it be? I tell you what, I've never seen Mars and Venus so bright in all my life, and I watched them and two other planets (Pluto and Jupiter?) all in line across the sky many times, shining strong and bright. Driving home in winter Mars seemed huge in the east, and alighting at home I looked to the west an Venus shone lke a beaut, the other two making a line. The night sky has been exhilerating."
I have never known the sweet pittosporum to flower so profusely and the scent to be so strong. It has been intoxicating for weeks when I go out the back door. And the hills to the east are dotted with white blossom on the silvertop trees and when I checked the bees Monday they had shaken off last season's malaise and were gathering honey.
So I don't know what but there's something in the air. There's so much we don't know and I have a feeling that life on earth is intricately connected with everything else and the cosmos, far moreso than we will ever understand. Plants, fish, birds, elepants, buffaloes, beavers, cats, dogs, primates, insects, fungi, reptiles..everything..rivers, mountains, oceans...all connected to the earth and sun and moon and stars. Every leaf is a little solar energy receptor absorbing carbon and pumping out oxygen. It's hard to get your head around. And if you were to dig straight down a couple of kilometres you'd get very hot and soon thereafter hit molten rock. Bizarre!
There's something in the air now, on our level. I feel it. A revolution in how we live, produce energy. "Call out the instigators, because there's something in the air, and you know that it's right, because the revolution's here."
Thursday, October 04, 2018
Here We Go Again
The oak trees in Gembrook's main street are beautiful to behold with their bright green new leaves. It's hugely pleasant to step outdoors and smell the magnificent perfume of the sweet pittosporum trees in our yard. If I needed reminding spring is in full swing I have been. I've been busy picking forget-me-not flowers by the bunch, the beech trees are ready to shoot their new leaves, the dogwood flowers are emerging and the lilac and snowball blossom is about to break. Yes, exciting it is, but I also know that combined with the grass and weed growth it means solid work for me till Christmas, when the customers take a bit of a break, and I'll get a breather.
It has been an eventful week or two since my last post. Monday morning last week as I took Pip outside for a wee and breakfast I could hear the CFA siren. I barely registered it thinking maybe an early commuter had had an accident and went back to bed. In my semi doze I heard a helicopter buzzing in the not too distance and I thought it was an ambo helicopter taking a victim to hospital. But it didn't stop. It went on and on.
"What's with that bloody helicopter?" I said to Lib when she stirred.
"Must be an accident," she said. "Didn't you hear the siren."
"Yes, but why doesn't it land, and then take off again, instead of just flying around. Maybe it's the cops looking for a crim on the run."
The buzzing kept up and I eventually got up and in my custom turned on the radio. The news told me the Gembrook pub was on fire and that explained the constant helicopter noise - a TV news crew.
The fire had a good hold on the building before the brigades got there and they had a hard job putting it out. The roof caved in. The local paper said yesterday there are no suspicious circumstances and apparently the fire started in a drier in the laundry due to a clogged lint filter.
On Thursday of last week about lunchtime I had a message on the answer phone from Big John. asking me to ring him on his mobile. As soon as heard it was from Big John I knew why he was ringing. My friend Jane Tilley, his neighbour, had died that morning. I had been half expecting such call for some time. Jane had been in out out of hospital over quite a period following successive falls at home. I'm so glad Gord and I visited her a couple of weeks earlier. She was in good spirits but very frail. I'll miss her greatly. Everyday since I drive past her road and think of her. She was a dear lady and a great friend for more than 30 years. She was I think 90 or 91, and may her beautiful soul rest in peace.
Saturday was Grand Final Day. The Friday was a public holiday. I picked FGMN's in Gembrook Bushland Park, as I have frequently lately, but it was not as pleasant as the solitude of the forest normally because trail bikes in the not too distance buzzed non stop their particularly irritating fluctuating noise like ten thousand mosquitos. Saturday I went to Ralphie's for lunch. Monica and he put on a lovely spread of salmon and salad, lovely, hit the spot. We watched the game and Rick and I were quite enthralled at the tightness of the contest and happy with an Eagle victory, but both teams deserve congratulations for putting on such a great show. Lib and Gord did not come with me. They were at Lakes Entrance. Lib was feeling much better after her last chemo episode and took the opportunity to go there before starting her radiotherapy as she did today, which will continue every day Mon- Fri for 3 weeks plus one day, 16 sessions in all. they came back Monday, fit and refreshed and ready for the new challenge.
Sunday was nice weather wise and I was home by myself working in the garden. The noise from motor bikes going up and down Launching Place road was horrendous, and there was plenty of hooting from the Puffing Billy whistle. I don't know what it is about human beings that makes them want to make so much noise. As I watched the Grand Final and all the hoo hah and carry on there was so much noise. I don't bother going to AFL football anymore at all, largely because of the traffic getting there and all the noise from the PA and the adds and music on the the big screen. Can't handle it. (Not to mention the loud and uncouth behaviour of the fans, I could go on and on about that).
Then on Sunday I saw a clip on TV of Jimmy Barnes performing at the GF. I didn't hear it but you could see him screaming into the microphone by his face contortion and I imagined the loud music booming in competition to his voice and believe me you'd have to pay me big money to go and watch that. What on earth is the matter with humans? I think mental illness is rife in our society. I reckon 50-80% of the population are mad to some degree, probably because they are bombarded with noise and crap.
With that in mind, and Lib's cancer and treatment, Jane's death, and the death of Lib's cousin Sheilah earlier in September (cancer aged 64), I make a conscious decision to withdraw from society as much as possible, especially excessive noise and politics, and begin a life as recluse as I can be, while still functioning usefully for my select people with whom I choose to remain in association. And to seek solitude and silence, where I can delight in the wonder and beauty of the natural world.
The rest of it can go to buggery.
It has been an eventful week or two since my last post. Monday morning last week as I took Pip outside for a wee and breakfast I could hear the CFA siren. I barely registered it thinking maybe an early commuter had had an accident and went back to bed. In my semi doze I heard a helicopter buzzing in the not too distance and I thought it was an ambo helicopter taking a victim to hospital. But it didn't stop. It went on and on.
"What's with that bloody helicopter?" I said to Lib when she stirred.
"Must be an accident," she said. "Didn't you hear the siren."
"Yes, but why doesn't it land, and then take off again, instead of just flying around. Maybe it's the cops looking for a crim on the run."
The buzzing kept up and I eventually got up and in my custom turned on the radio. The news told me the Gembrook pub was on fire and that explained the constant helicopter noise - a TV news crew.
The fire had a good hold on the building before the brigades got there and they had a hard job putting it out. The roof caved in. The local paper said yesterday there are no suspicious circumstances and apparently the fire started in a drier in the laundry due to a clogged lint filter.
On Thursday of last week about lunchtime I had a message on the answer phone from Big John. asking me to ring him on his mobile. As soon as heard it was from Big John I knew why he was ringing. My friend Jane Tilley, his neighbour, had died that morning. I had been half expecting such call for some time. Jane had been in out out of hospital over quite a period following successive falls at home. I'm so glad Gord and I visited her a couple of weeks earlier. She was in good spirits but very frail. I'll miss her greatly. Everyday since I drive past her road and think of her. She was a dear lady and a great friend for more than 30 years. She was I think 90 or 91, and may her beautiful soul rest in peace.
Saturday was Grand Final Day. The Friday was a public holiday. I picked FGMN's in Gembrook Bushland Park, as I have frequently lately, but it was not as pleasant as the solitude of the forest normally because trail bikes in the not too distance buzzed non stop their particularly irritating fluctuating noise like ten thousand mosquitos. Saturday I went to Ralphie's for lunch. Monica and he put on a lovely spread of salmon and salad, lovely, hit the spot. We watched the game and Rick and I were quite enthralled at the tightness of the contest and happy with an Eagle victory, but both teams deserve congratulations for putting on such a great show. Lib and Gord did not come with me. They were at Lakes Entrance. Lib was feeling much better after her last chemo episode and took the opportunity to go there before starting her radiotherapy as she did today, which will continue every day Mon- Fri for 3 weeks plus one day, 16 sessions in all. they came back Monday, fit and refreshed and ready for the new challenge.
Sunday was nice weather wise and I was home by myself working in the garden. The noise from motor bikes going up and down Launching Place road was horrendous, and there was plenty of hooting from the Puffing Billy whistle. I don't know what it is about human beings that makes them want to make so much noise. As I watched the Grand Final and all the hoo hah and carry on there was so much noise. I don't bother going to AFL football anymore at all, largely because of the traffic getting there and all the noise from the PA and the adds and music on the the big screen. Can't handle it. (Not to mention the loud and uncouth behaviour of the fans, I could go on and on about that).
Then on Sunday I saw a clip on TV of Jimmy Barnes performing at the GF. I didn't hear it but you could see him screaming into the microphone by his face contortion and I imagined the loud music booming in competition to his voice and believe me you'd have to pay me big money to go and watch that. What on earth is the matter with humans? I think mental illness is rife in our society. I reckon 50-80% of the population are mad to some degree, probably because they are bombarded with noise and crap.
With that in mind, and Lib's cancer and treatment, Jane's death, and the death of Lib's cousin Sheilah earlier in September (cancer aged 64), I make a conscious decision to withdraw from society as much as possible, especially excessive noise and politics, and begin a life as recluse as I can be, while still functioning usefully for my select people with whom I choose to remain in association. And to seek solitude and silence, where I can delight in the wonder and beauty of the natural world.
The rest of it can go to buggery.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)