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Lake District: Ambleside
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Haven Cottage, Ambleside
It’s so long since I posted anything and too long since I promised to write about our visit to the beautiful Lake District in the UK in 2016. Well, here we are. It was about 5 pm by the time we arrived and the parking area was full, but our hosts were charming, very helpful and immediately made us feel welcome. He carried our cases up to the third floor, then parked the car for us while she did a great job of darkening the windows for me, (I cannot sleep with light) climbing up on a chair and pinning a length of dark material over the curtains. Nothing was too much trouble.
I wish I had photos of our accommodation, right across the top floor, with a separate sitting room and ensuite, plus a big bath in the bedroom. Romantic for a couple, but useful for two sisters for hanging out our washing, and Susanne did luxuriate in it one evening, after a hectic day of driving. I’m sure you can find Haven Cottage Ambleside for yourself on Google – we thoroughly recommend them.
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Slate roofs and stone walls; the view from our bedroom window.
I have a photo taken from the bedroom window, which looks down on the houses behind Haven Cottage and the hills which surround the town are visible in the distance. beyond them is Lake Windermere.
On that first evening, we partly unpacked to find clean clothes, then ventured into town, walking beside the river that flows under and around some of the original buildings. Italian was the best choice for dinner, but they had no empty tables so we took a stroll, after asking them to save us a table in about an hour.
Friends in my Garden: Daisy, Coriander and Free Spirit
When I wrote and published Friends in my Garden, the people in these poems were some of the friends I saw often enough that we could easily slot back into that relationship where the months and years don’t matter. Sadly, I have lost touch completely with Coriander and Free Spirit. Daisy is still around, somewhere, but I haven’t seen her for too long.
If you know where they are, I’d love to receive a message, perhaps a comment at the end of this posting.
When any of my poems apply to a friend or family member of yours, please feel free to pass them on. Friends in my Garden is meant for all of you who read my words and the poems are for you to share with your garden of friends.
DAISY
She is my daisy
with face always smiling
and petals of pink or yellow or blue
popping up
wherever I need
a splash of colour
and warmth and fun,
I know she’ll be there
to cheer my heart
and nurture my soul.
CORIANDER
Coriander reigns in my herb patch.
He’s quiet and a trifle contrary
tends to disappear when confronted.
Dreaming up dishes
tempting and delicious
his feathery appearance
adds a touch of artistry.
Friends regard him as
a culinary wonder.
FREE SPIRIT
Chirping, laughing
smile bubbles bursting
in she flies
a flurry of welcome
her visit a sparkling surprise,
tales of the past are recounted
and fantasy flights foretold.
Autumn leaves tumble
She’ll soon fly away
conquering oceans
and capturing hearts
for her spirit is joyous and free.
Harlow Carr Gardens near Harrogate UK
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A very happy me at Harlow Carr Gardens, one of my favourites.
Leaving York on the 4th of June, we were excited to be on our way to the beautiful Lakes District, with a stop at Harlow Carr Gardens. Our hire car from Hertz was a very comfortable Mercedes. Susanne did most of the driving while I navigated. When making the booking, back in Australia in March, I had requested a navigation system with the car, but for some inexplicable reason, none was available from the York depot. Google served the purpose, as we only needed to take a small diversion from the main route, from York to Ambleside, in order to visit one of my favourite gardens in the world.
Harlow Carr Gardens is one of the Royal Horticultural Society Gardens in the UK, situated near Harrogate in Yorkshire. This was my third visit and, as on each occasion, a breath taking delight. Having my sister, Susanne, an equally keen gardener, with me, made it even more enjoyable as we dashed from one spectacular panorama to the next, with about a thousand stops on the way to capture a vista or the details of a single flower on camera.
Mystery Plays 2016 York UK
The 2016 production of the Mystery Plays was one of the most impressive pieces of theatre that I have ever seen. I know that for some of you, the idea of a religious performance in a religious venue conjures up images of an evening spent in the most boring possible way. Believe me, this was anything but boring.
As the director, Philip Breen said in an interview, from which I’ll quote, ‘We return to these Plays again and again because they are asking the most profound questions about who we are, where we are going and what it means to be alive.’ In the bible we have stories about love and hate, families – supportive and destructive, power struggles, sex, war, good and evil, birth, life and death, racial tensions, moments and events that changed the course of history. What more could one want for any number of highly dramatic scenes and a play that makes Shakespeare seem tame? There are also some very funny scenes.
In all, eighteen scenes were presented for us that night, beginning with the Fall of the Rebel Angels and the introduction of Lucifer as he defied God, leading his ‘devils’ down under the stage to hell.
Characters and Theatre in York
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Dogs, cats and birds were my favourite glass pets
Also, unlike so many tourist towns, York has some genuinely original interesting shops and ones that sell quality products. I wanted to buy all these cute dogs, so tiny that I could fit them into my case, but so fragile I wondered how many would arrive home unbroken. The two I bought now have a special view on my kitchen bench.
Another shop which won our custom was the Edinburgh Woolen Shop. Found all over the UK, they sell the sort of quality knitware–scarves, gloves, hats, coats etc–that lasts for years and when the temperature plummeted, I had to have those ear muffs. i still have and use a lot in winter, a cashmere shawl that I bought from one of their stores in Scotland back in the 80s. So light and warm, it’s also a blanket on my travels.
While testing out the effectiveness of those muffs, against the wind that was so biting it had given me an earache, I ran into this jovial fellow who enlightened us about an event which would take place in the Minster that night. The Mystery Plays have been performed at various venues around York, initially traveling with mobile stages (probably horse and buggy varieties) and performing throughout the day – Feast of Corpus Christi – in different parts of the town. In 2016, for the first time since 2000, the drama took place inside the Minster and I think almost every citizen of the city played some part in the massive production.
York Minster Today
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New ceiling in the south transept, with the bosses designed by school children.
One result is the new ceiling in that section of the Minster. School children were invited to create the decorations now used on the bosses Six designs won the competition and craftsmen made the copies which we now see.
York Minster: Tales and Treasures from the past
York Minster, as we see it today, underwent two massive restoration projects in the second half of last century. The first one required going deep below the structure in order to strengthen and restore the foundations that were put down for the Medieval part of the building. As a result of uncovering those problems, evidence of the original Roman settlement can be glimpsed through small holes in the floor of the undercroft.
Looking at a map of the Roman settlement, called Eboracum, I am fascinated by the fact that today’s minster is situated at least partly, on top of it. Back in the first century AD, when Romans marched into what is now York, deciding to establish their first ‘British’ post there, they chose this same spot. This happens quite a lot throughout history I’ve found. Sometimes the reason is obvious – the highest spot for miles around, therefore good viewing and readiness to defend against attack, or a central place where two or three rivers meet, that sort of thing. With York, this exact spot is not so obvious. Sometimes I wonder if there’s an ancient, mysterious power at force, that the ground is regarded as sacred from ancient times, before history. Whatever the reason, York Minster is built on one of these ‘blessed’ sites.
Chewing Gum to the Rescue
This short story will be included in the Memoir I’m writing. It’s all true, even down to the names as I see no need to hide the identities of my fellow gum-chewing partners.
For those of you who don’t know, Alan and I were married in 1961. We traveled around Western Australia with a caravan and a utility, camping for a week or more wherever he had work, surveying new farmland east of Narrogin. I was only on the road with him for a few months,but I have some ‘interesting’ memories from those days.
Chewing Gum to the Rescue
We left the camp near Wave Rock at Hyden at about four o’clock on that October afternoon. The boss lived in Narrogin, so we allowed time to collect the men’s pay cheques on our way and be back in Perth in time to sleep in a proper bed at my parent’s house that night.
All went well until the radiator started boiling. On a Saturday night in 1961, when even the pubs were probably closed, three miles out of town, nothing moved. Hoping to find something open, Alan sent Lou, his assistant, back to the nearest little blip of a town, to buy chewing gum—as much as they could supply.
Never having regarded the chewing of gum as an enjoyable activity, I hoped that my husband’s plan would not involve my participation. I realised that the local garage, if there was one, would be closed and out of action until Monday. The chance of them stocking a replacement for our radiator was remote anyway and with only a measly pay cheque and little cash, we couldn’t have paid for it even if one was available. Alan was pretty good at thinking up new ways to overcome problems but I wondered how chewing gum might help us with a leaky radiator.
Music for Piano and Cello: Altstaedt and Madzar
This week I am writing about my other love – classical music, and the concert which thrilled us last Saturday night at the Perth Concert Hall.
Being Grand Final day for the AFL (Australian Football League for my non-Australian readers) meant that the audience was the smallest I’ve ever seen for a concert of this standard. That meant that we, and many others, could move to better seats and enjoy the performance even more.
Anything composed by Claude Debussy has me in the clouds, so when Nicolas Altstaedt touched his bow to his cello and Aleksandar Madzar ran his fingers over the keys of that grand piano, I sat back and let the music they created, carry me away.
The novel I am currently writing is about a former concert pianist who loses his right hand in a motor accident, so I am always keen to sit where I can study the movement of fingers, hands, arms and even the shoulders of a maestro, while listening carefully to the music they make. The Russians tend to over-dramatize, using large, flourishing lifts and pounces, while some pianists seem to use their whole upper torsos in a sequence of movements up and down the keys. I am a fan of Simon Tedeschi, having followed him since he was doing gigs as a teenager (maybe a bit older but he looked like a teenager) but his performances, although spectacular, remind me of an athlete as he pounds the keys with so much energy that I feel quite exhausted and he certainly looks worn out. I haven’t seen him lately so, maybe that’s an outdated comment.
York England: History everywhere
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The old Barley Hall was not on our ‘must see’ list, but we couldn’t resist exploring
when we stumbled across this sign. Without any date, it was still easy to work out the approximate year as Susanne’s head almost touched the top of the passage that led to the ancient hall. I hope you can read that the owner was a former mayor of York. By today’s standards the residence was relatively simple, but the gentleman had servants, a ‘study’ and all the necessary ‘stuff’ to show that he was a person of importance in the area. The house was narrow with rather unsafe ( by our standards) stair cases and I was confused by the layout as the rooms seemed to be all over the place instead of following a logical plan.
York England 2016: Day Two
Stephen even mentioned the squirrels – see the little fellow that we met, along with pigeons (or are they doves? I never know the difference.
One of the things I love about England is the abundance of parks and the fact that they are well cared for, with well-placed trees and clusters of shrubs and flowers, especially when you arrive in spring, as we did.
The Museum Gardens are situated about two minutes walk from our accommodation and are the most direct route to the centre of town, so, whenever possible (the gates are closed every night) we walked through it, coming out at Museum St on the other side.
Spring in the Hills
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Spring is here again, and my camera has been busy, so today, instead of York in England, I have to write about my garden in Glen Forrest.
The view from my bedroom, into a private courtyard which is now finished, is already a delight and in a few weeks, when everything blossoms, it will be heavenly. From my study, where I write these blog posts as well as my short stories, poems and the latest novel (about halfway there), I am inspired by nature, which often includes a friendly goanna and lots of birds.
York in England 2016
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York Minster, visible from most parts of the city
The famous York Minster requires at least one visit, as the foundations go down to Roman times with so much to see and absorb from then on. The Vikings settled there during their raids in the Dark Ages, giving it the name of Yorvik, evidence of which is still to be found (when not closed due to flooding as it is for several years, but more of that later.)
We travelled there by train on the 30th May last year. From Banbury this is very easy as, provided you catch one of several direct journeys, it should only take about three hours with none of the awkward darting about with luggage to swap from one train to another. However, as we came into Derby, (which puzzled us as that wasn’t on the original route) we were informed that an incident on the track ahead of us had forced the closure of that section of the line. We were then advised to stay in our seats while a group of passengers from the affected train were loaded onto ours. Everyone closed gaps
London 2016: The National Gallery
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National Gallery where even the walls are impressive
When searching through my photo files, I couldn’t find any from this visit, so we have Susanne to thank for the images you see here. I guess that, having stood in front of the same paintings so often, and having many photos of them from precious visits, I must have decided to not bother taking more that day. The main purpose in going there was for me to show my sister the amazing skies produced by Turner.
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Turner is famous for painting skies like this
Amongst his other works, this view of the steam train crossing the bridge, is well known to all followers of English art. Again, the sky is an important feature of the painting. Susanne was suitable impressed.
Moving House
I promised to write about the National Gallery in London, but I hope you will find this description of the last week and half amusing.
Buying a new residence and moving in, should be an exciting exercise but we all know that the stress levels for a house move, or in this case setting up a second home, are up there with death of a loved one and divorce. Well, believe me, having experienced both, it’s nothing like that bad, but despite my determination to have everything organised to the nth degree, because something always goes wrong on such occasions, it wasn’t exactly a smooth and simple operation.
Banbury and London 2016
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A famous lady on a white horse
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One of the cosy pubs in Banbury.
‘Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
to see a fine lady upon a white horse.’
When I recited that nursery rhyme as a child I didn’t realise that she was famous because of what she didn’t wear while riding that horse.
The English town of Banbury sits on the edge of the Cotswalds, surrounded by lush green farming countryside, quaint villages with cottage gardens and because of its rail connections, it’s an ideal place for a base out of London, only an hour away by train. It’s even more convenient for me because I have family living nearby.
Friends In My Garden: Hyacinth and Peony
Life has been hectic for the last few weeks, hence my lack of postings on this site. I am keen to return to the travel tales from England but for today, I hope to please those of you who enjoy my poems, especially those from my first book, ‘Friends In My Garden.’
Hyacinth was written for a friend who lost her daughter in tragic circumstances. It was the kind of situation from which a mother would never totally recover but this lady was/is always graceful and composed. Whenever I read this poem I think of her with love and admiration.
If you know someone who bravely bares a tragic loss, you might like to share this poem with them.
HYACINTH
Hyacinth is a fragile flower
sometimes seeming aloof
in her need for seclusion.
The colours of her petals change
from purple on the sad days
to whitely unobtrusive
when she’s hiding from the world
or palest blue
in times of her remembering.
For the memory and the loss
will always remain
despite her efforts to hide the pain.
The image she presents
of calmness and restraint
is it a facade?
I think I hear her crying
in the emptiness of night
when she’s alone with her sorrow.
She’s determined to not falter
but I should remember
to tend more often
and with more care
my saddened, delicate hyacinth.
Peony was written for another brave lady. Sadly she didn’t manage to overcome cancer, but she always looked elegant and despite her condition, she was determined to live life to the full. I only really had one meeting with her but was so impressed that I sat down as soon as she left and composed this poem in her honour.
‘Friends In My Garden’ was published in 1995. Sadly, my Peony died about a year later, but I still think of her. It’s a sad poem, but I wanted to express my admiration for her determination and for the joy she radiated, despite the suffering she must have endured. I hope that my words give comfort and encouragement to others who are facing serious illness.
PEONY
This morning there appeared
a flower I’ve not seen before,
a peony.
The climate here is harsh
for so delicate a plant
but to see her blooming
you’d not be aware
of her struggle for survival.
Elated,
blossoms in profusion,
the image she presents.
I know she lost her petals
felt her trunk grow weak
but sun gave her warmth
rain fell softly on her leaves
the one who cares
for flowers and trees
nourished her with love
and hence
today
she came to grace my garden.
Albany in Western Australia, cont.
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Natural bridge
For me, it looked very different as this was my first experience of the new viewing platform that juts out over the edge of the rocks, enabling people to get amazing photos without risking their lives.
Looking east from the bridge, I caught the sun setting over the bay and, walking along the pathway, this natural arrangement of dead wood.
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Nature’s sculpture
Albany in Western Australia
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Two People’s Bay, Albany
walking along the coast down there, you feel the winds blowing up from the Antarctic and readily accept that this is the first place where those cold cold winds touch land. In winter it’s bl—y freezing. An amazing place though, as the colours of the sea, the rocks and crisp white sand make for perfect photographs and even I can feel like an artist of sorts.
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Totally the wrong time of day and wrong direction, with the sun blinding me. Amazing.
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Facing directly into the sun, unable to see what I was taking, I watched the sand and clicked as the water came towards me. And look what happened.
UK: Chelsea Flower Show People
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Every year they wear these coats , bought many years ago.
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Fancy dress for the occasion.
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Co-ordinated in stripes.
As promised, I have some interesting characters to show you this week. I think gardeners must be a particular breed, often rather eccentric, especially the English variety and we found several of them at the Chelsea Flower Show last year. I have Susanne to thank for most of these photos.
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