Friends In My Garden – Bizzie Lizzie

I’m sure you all have at least one character like this in your friendship garden.

Such a Bizzie Lizzie

is pretty little balsam

dashing about

always wanting to please.

Wearing happy colours

she brightens dreary corners.

There are times when she’ll work too hard

then suddenly stop

fall in a heap

her petals drop

her leaves turn crinkly brown and flop.

She’ll revive

but for a while her blossoms wilt

turning white and wan.

She hates that

wants to be out in the sun

having fun

flashing her prettiest party petals

and being busy

my Bizzie Lizzie.

Friends In My Garden – A Tree of Grace

This poem was written for my daughter, Stephanie, who demonstrated such courage and determination after the loss of her baby and her husband in a car crash in 1990. It still makes me cry but I hope it shows how much I love and admire her.

It has been shared with many readers who lost loved ones. Please feel free to pass it on

A Tree of Grace

In my garden grows a tree

with silver leaves and flowers

of magical hue.

On her trunk

a trace of scars

tempest caused

the year her buds fell unformed

and she shivered

branches bare.

But rainbow nourished

laughter bathed

wrapped in courage

love healed by spring.

Strong she stands

a shimmering shining tree full of grace

and beauty

sparkling my garden with silver

and golding my heart.

Spinifex and Snakes

Gone before the heat each day

the partner I had followed to this land of Spinifex and snakes

leaving me alone

My daughter painted this picture from her memories of our life in north-west WA

My daughter, Stephanie Burns, painted this picture from her memories of our life in north-west WA. To see more of her art and fabrics go to http://artasfabric.com

with my babies

aged one and three.

No friends

the town not yet reality

no shop, no school

an alcoholic doctor

the airport down the track—an hour’s drive.

I had no car but where could I go

even if that wasn’t so?

To shark infested waters, holding two little hands?

Across a wasteland of bushes uniformly stunted?

To the caravan park

where filth, depression

and language hurled at children made me shrink.

Word from the south was flown up

with grader parts and other vital stuff.

Food and clothes came fortnightly by truck.

Radio was rarely heard

television never seen

no books

no strains of Mozart

no scent of flowers, twitter of birds

trees or shade or anything to feed the soul.

In that pindan-covered camp

no-one felt or thought like me.

Afraid of losing little ones

curious to explore that never ending sameness

each day confined within my arms-width space

sheltering from flies and sun that fried the brain

I lived inside my head.

Victoria Mizen

Kerbside Collections

Last Sunday Julian and Penelope enjoyed a salubrious lunch at the Darlington Estate Winery. Returning home they shared memories of teenage years – Penelope’s spent in the hills, riding her bike along bush tracks with friends, Julian’s helping his father on the farm where he lived in Cornwall.

‘After that feast we should have a rest when we get home.’ Penelope glanced at her partner, the beginnings of a smile playing with the corners of her mouth.

Julian spluttered, ‘Do you mean a rest?’ Bushy eyebrows questioned her meaning of rest.

Almost missing the corner, he turned left into Glen Forrest Drive.

‘More of a siesta,’ Penelope continued.

‘Someone’s been busy while we were eating.’ Thoughts of a Mediterranean style, leisurely post-lunchtime rest were put aside as the green jaguar slowed down to allow a rudimentary assessment of the no-longer-loved contents of a garage or storage room, neatly laid out on the road verge opposite them.

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Walking the Narrow Streets of Rudesheim

A typical Rudesheim hotel

Steep narrow streets; Rudesheim ambiance

On leaving the amazing musical museum we had to decide whether to return to the river in the little train or on foot. I hoped that, despite the abundance of kitsch, I might find something worthwhile in a couple of shops and I still wanted to capture the ambience of Rudesheim on camera. David chose the train and I suspect that he might have tried some of the famous Rudesheimer coffee. Asbach – a special brandy – is poured into a mug and set on fire. Filled up with coffee which douses the flames, the concoction is then topped with whipped cream and chocolate flakes. I settled for a small box of brandy filled chocolates and a few more postcards, then couldn’t resist a silly sign that says VIP Parking Only. Unfortunately no-one will notice it on my driveway, so I’ll have to give it to someone who really is a VIP. One with a sense of humour of course.

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Rudesheim and Siegfried’s Mechanical Musical Instrument Museum

AmaCello docked at Rudesheim

Sunday, May 31st we moored on the banks of the Rhine at Rudesheim.

Tower near the bridge where we docked

I have been to this town twice before, and although its famous narrow street, that rises up from the river, is terribly kitsch, I love it.

The famous narrow street of kitsch and Asbach coffee.

Cameras were even more essential than usual. The tourist train that pulled up in front of our ship was like something out of a children’s story book.

We all piled in, squashed into spaces which were only big enough for children, but the journey along the foreshore and up through narrow streets to the museum was fun. Not enough elbow space for photos, but I planned to walk back and capture the quaint buildings later.

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The Technical Museum of Speyer

Speyer Cathedral, completed in 1111 is the largest Romanesque church remaining in Europe.

The day that we went to Speyer, we were almost hit by a large plane as it flew over the bridge which took us into the town. The airport must be very close by as I later saw several planes flying in, equally low, over the river and the bridge. Our bus parked, amongst many others, below the town, with the largest and most important Romanesque building in Europe, completed in 1111 and dominating the skyline. (Thank goodness the planes stayed away from it’s medieval turrets) I wished I had booked for the city tour, but the technical museum sounded more interesting and I didn’t think I could manage both.

Zeppelin

Our guide pointed us in the direction of the museum and told us to return by 12.30pm for the return trip to the ship. An hour and a half seemed like plenty of time, until I walked into the main hall. My camera was busy trying to capture beautiful antique cars, aeroplanes hanging from the ceiling,steam engines, racing vehicles from early days to some of the latest models,

Full size steam engine

fire engines, motor bikes and even a space shuttle.

Our grandfather had a jaguar like this. He was so short and it was so hard to steer, he could barely drive it, but I loved the smell of the leather seats.

For racing fans

As I began my walk, I thought of my brother,

For you Rus

who was mad keen on motors (of any kind) and who could fix just about any of them. Remembering that he died last year, and could not see the photos I wanted to show him, caused a few tears, but hopefully his children will see them

Switzerland by coach in a day

Lake Geneva and surrounds

From Lyon to Basel

The morning of May 28 saw us up early as our packed cases had to be outside the cabins by 6.30am. I felt excited to be starting on the next stage of our holiday, but sad to leave the very friendly staff and happy memories made on AmaDagio.

David and I had become quite attached to our cabin and I wondered if the next one would feel as homely.Returning there after breakfast, I checked all the cupboards again to make sure we hadn’t left anything.‘I hope the internet works on the next one,’ I muttered, shoving the last of many cords into my hand luggage. David patted the bed in a proprietarial fashion; he appreciated its comfort and hoped that AmaCello’s would be as good.

Gunther was coming with us, which gave some continuity to the program. He had warned us two days earlier, that it would not be a good idea to pressure him on departure day as problems were bound to arise, despite his very detailed planning. He was Belgian, not German as his name suggested, and he stressed this fact, but his ability to organize all our trips, to be on hand and at his desk seemingly from dawn till late at night, was the kind of Germanic trait for which most of us were grateful.

Knowing that my back would not cope well with sitting for six hours on a bus, I reserved the back seat before everyone else got on, so that I could lie down. We had large, well sprung tourist coaches, but this gave me extra protection and meant that I reached Basel feeling fine; and I offered to swap seats for a while with anyone else needing a lie down. I think I dozed off a couple of times, but managed to see much of the countryside and if I snored it couldn’t have been louder than a few of the guys.

Heidi could yodel from the mountains

The scenery was so much like I had imagined it to be, that I almost expected a Heidi, with long, straw-coloured plaits, to yodel from the fir covered mountains.Everything about the land and the properties was neat and well maintained; vines grew up the hillsides from

Vines growing beside the lake.

Lake Geneva in perfectly straight lines, or in rows that were parallel to the lake, but aligned with Swiss precision.

Swiss village – steeply pitched roofs and shuttered windows

The houses, too, looked exactly as I expected, with steeply pitched roofs and the smaller, shuttered windows that are common in children’s picture books. Brown and white or black and white cows, fat and contented looking, munched on grass so green it had to produce incredibly rich milk and delicious meat. I knew, without question, when we crossed from France to Switzerland.

Lake Geneva itself, with snow-capped mountains on the far side, an almost clear blue sky above and villages and farms fitting snugly into the sides of the hills below us, was picture perfect.

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Lyon – Painted walls and Secret Passages

Lyon is also known as the gastronomic capital of France, although, having eaten very well at stops along the way, and having spent time in Paris, I wonder about this claim.

so many delicacies to choose from

Our guide for the day, being from Lyon, stressed that her city, although the third largest one in France, is actually the second largest if you take in the whole metropolitan area.

Bottom right corner, note the projector

She led us from the river to a large building with famous characters, mainly from the region, painted on the outside walls at every level. The Lumiere brothers, who invented cinematography in Lyon, are featured, and an image of Paul Bocuse stands at street level in what could almost be a restaurant.

Because the city, even the old part, is so much larger than our other stops, we had to travel by bus through much of it, but then we stopped to walk through a few traboules (secret passages,) which have been used for centuries as short cuts through private dwellings and were useful during the German occupation for hiding people and goods.

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French Gourmet Delights – Frogs Legs, Snails and Paul Bocuse

Beaujolais and Dombes Regions

Food and wine were on the agenda for our outings on the 26^th. Unfortunately we couldn’t do both at once, so, knowing that we would be able to try the wines later, we opted for the snails and frogs legs.

Enthusiasm for snails??

After the truffle performance from Serge, our snail man was about as inspiring as any old snail in any garden, but he did show us a few tricks for catching them which I will be testing on the vegetable garden when I get back home – note the photos.

Sprinkle crushed grain on a hard surface and lay slatted timber against it to catch snails

We were put off at the beginning by his attitude when a couple of us ladies enquired about toilet facilities. He really did not want us to use his, and no wonder, it was in his house. The farm (can you call snail production a farm?) has been in production for about five years and making money for the last two years, so we thought he should by now have his facilities properly set up for visitors.

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