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UK 2016: Chelsea Flower Show
Brilliant colour was the first thing that wowed us as we entered the huge tent full of prize winning entries. Aren’t these stunning?
Friends In My Garden: Butterfly and Magnolia
Today I’m in the mood for poetry so I’ve gone to my book, Friends In My Garden for a selection. Two very different characters, but both written for women who inspired me and brought joy into my life.
Butterfly is the sort of friend who pops in with chocolates and champagne when you’re feeling down. Her smile and her laughter brighten any space when she appears. I hope you have several butterflies in your friendship garden and I’d love you to share my words with them.
BUTTERFLY
There’s a butterfly
happiness yellow
in my friendship garden.
A ray of sunshine
spreading warmth whenever she appears
always bubbling full of fun and laughter
that bounces
grows.
I love her sparkle
her cheek
her zing.
When friends are down
in she whirls
a glow of yellow
to brighten our hearts.
Magnolia was written for the sort of woman who rises to the top in her field. She’s a leader who others want to follow. Please send this to the Magnolias in your friendship garden.
MAGNOLIA
Magnolia has an air of grandeur.
She’s courageous
and tenacious
with a heart as soft as moss.
Occasional bouts of jealousy
are sparked by lesser plants
weeds that endeavour to starve
or choke this lovely tree.
In stately manner
she disdains their poisonous pettiness.
Others are inspired by her,
the elegant stance
the leaves
rich and glossy
the brilliance of her flowers
creamy white
and luscious.
I think she’s quite magnificent.
Paris 2016: Sacre Coeur and Chamber Music
Stage inside the Palais Garnier.
Like most of the old theatres I’ve seen in Europe, this one was stunning. Red and gold everywhere; even without the music, the visit was worthwhile. The curtains were spectacular, made of what looked like
Dome above the stalls.
red velvet, masses of it, draped and flounced in theatrical fashion, almost like a separate character about to play his/her part. The dome above the front stalls told another story; decorated in bright colours with lots more gold and finished with a glistening chandelier hanging from the centre, it added to the atmophere.
Paris 2016: Musee d’Orsay
The L’Ouvre was first on our itinerary, but trying to find the Mona Lisa, which was on my sister’s list of ‘must sees’ took ages. Standing behind such a large crowd that actually seeing the famous painting was fairly impossible, Susanne agreed with my estimation of that painting and the museum in general; it’s not worth the fuss.
Musee d’Orsay, formerly a railway station in Paris
The best Salade Nicoise
We headed for the Musee d’Orsay instead, stopping for lunch in a real French (as opposed to tourist French) eatery where I had the best Salad Nicoise that I’ve tasted anywhere.
Rodin.
Once inside the museum we feasted our eyes. This foot photo is only a small part of the male figure but I am amazed by the detail that Rodin is able to portray in every part of his sculptures.
Cezanne
We took so many photos that only a few can be shown here.
Paris 2016: L’Orangerie
Monet’s famous water lilies
A year ago today I was in Paris with my sister, Susanne, visiting L’Orangerie which is my favourite museum in that city.
When registering for the three day Paris Pass one must line up at the first museum you visit and buy your pass there. As the queues at Musee d’Orsay and the L’Ouvre are generally very long I guessed, correctly, that we shouldn’t have to waste much time standing in line at this small gallery.
Monet’s Water Lilies – I want to step into the painting.
Having been to Musee Marmottan and Monet’s garden at Giverney on our previous visit to Paris, we had an idea of what to expect and I had visited this gallery many years before, but the spectacle is amazing, no matter how many times I see it. The oval room has a large painting on each of the four walls with benches in the middle, so that viewers can sit and admire the art (provided the space isn’t filled with other people standing in front of the scenes.) Not only are the 
paintings themselves 
stunning but the way they are arranged makes me feel that I could take one step and be in there, a nymph (excuse my imagination) rising out of the water. The closest I came was in a photo, in front of one of the paintings. People speak in hushed tones and, although most are busy taking photos, the atmosphere is respectful and visitors are considerate of their fellow admirers, 
moving to one side so that we can all capture the image we want. I took many more than I can show you here, but if you get a chance, if you’re in Paris and you want to see some Monet, especially the water lilies, make this museum your first stop.
Dalmatian and Italian Cruise: Pompeii – missed it
Our final journey from the ship was supposed to be to Pompeii. On each bus tour on this cruise we were provided with poor quality local buses which had very little leg room – knees hitting the seat in front even for a short person like me, and bouncing over the rough roads which is agony for anyone with back pain. The concierge was not able to give me any satisfaction regarding the standard of transport, even when I asked for a private chauffeured car. It would cost about AU $500 for the two hour journey (and two hours return) but she couldn’t find out what sort of vehicle would be provided, ( I need one with good suspension) so in the end I gave up trying.
My sister made the journey and raved about the ruined city but she agreed that the bus journey was very uncomfortable. I have a small book on the history and her account of the wonders to be seen.
Dalmatian and Italian Cruise: Naples
Our introduction to Naples – entrance from the harbour
Rundown buildings near the harbour
Naples makes me think of the Mafia, crime, corruption and poverty. Although we landed at the port, naturally, we didn’t in fact, see anything of the crime element and just a few areas of lower standard
Electrical connection in the pavement; safety is not a priority
living conditions.
Haphazard parking and tiny vehicles
We also noticed that parking didn’t seem to follow any rules, (similar to our photos from Rome) and that tiny cars are all the rage.
Once we joined the orgnised city tour, our guide showed us where the bus was parked, then took us on a fast walking tour to a couple of major sites. Unlike most group tours, we had no earpieces and his English was pour and fast, so all we could do was take photos, not knowing what we were actually photographing. I hope my descriptions, taken later from various google sites, are correct.
Castel dell’Ovo
The castle, a few metres from our bus, was the most interesting site for me. I remembered from Medieval History lessons that the Normans ruled Southern Italy around the same time as their leader, William the Conqueror, landed in England and made himself king there. The round turrets here reminded me of similar structures around England. Looking it up later, I found that yes, a Norman king built the first castle here in the 12th century, on a site that had previously been home to a magnificent Roman villa in the 1st cent BC. This place later became a Royal Chamber, State Treasury and twice it was used as a prison – first an empress then a queen. It’s the sort of place that I wished we could visit, but our guide was in a hurry.
Friends In My Garden: Oak and A Time For Tears
The following poems were written for a man I once thought was the centre of my universe. It’s almost nineteen years since I shed those tears and I’ve found new, strong and lasting love. This post is for those of you who think that your life ends with the loss of one love. It changes and you change but it can get better. You just have to pick up the pieces (probably best to discard the not so good ones) and face life again. As usual, please pass one or both of these on to anyone you think might like to read it/them.
OAK
Rooted firmly in the ground
my oak
is tall and strong
protecting creatures
that snuggle into his trunk
and hide in his leaves.
Wide he spreads his branches
and so high
his canopy is sometimes in the clouds.
I sit in his shade
and lean on him.
His bigness can be overwhelming,
too long in his shadow
I shrink and fade
then I need to walk in the sun
content
secure
knowing he is there
in the centre of my garden.
A TIME FOR TEARS
Flowing like a waterfall
these tears I shed for you.
At night I wake to wrenching sobs
my pillow wet
my soul bereft;
I want to sleep forever.
Do you cry too?
Does guilt grip you with remorse
for leaving me
for what you too have lost?
Perhaps one day
my heart will mend
my tears no longer fall.
One day I might not
think of you with sadness
but after forty years
I know there’ll never come a time
when I can say
‘I don’t love you anymore.’
Dalmatian Cruise: Kotor, Montenegro
Kotor in Montenegro was to be our next destination but as we approached at about 7.30am on Saturday May 14th,
Panorama approaching Kotor
the skies were almost black in one direction and the forecast was for rain. Our ship moored away from Kotor itself, so guests were to be taken across the bay in what looked
Ferrying from ship to shore
like semi-open ferry boats. I didn’t like the look of the weather or the means of transport.
Steep mountains behind a narrow strip of land
We took our usual lot of photos from the ship, noting the incredibly steep and rocky mountains immediately behind clusters of buildings close to the shore and decided to stay on board.
Friends In My Garden: Exotic Bird
I hope that many of you have at least one person in your life who fits this image of a good friend. Mine has been a bit off colour lately so this is a tribute to her, to remind her how much I appreciate her.
Please feel free to send this poem on to the exotic bird(s) in your garden of friends. My words are free for you all to enjoy and share. If you would like to leave me a comment that would be great, thank you.
EXOTIC BIRD
Exotic is my little bird
gorgeous her plumage
of brilliant emerald
and sapphire
and the richest ruby red.
She’s something of a loner
rather shy
and quiet until she sings,
then she leads the chorus.
Her voice fills my garden
with the sound of crystal music.
I love to sit and listen
not only to her song
her words are never wrong.
We share a tranquil moment
rest for a while on a bench
chat about friends and daily affairs.
A peck on my cheek
a feathery wave
and she flies home to her nest.
Weather Alert: Short Story Competition Winner
Late last year I entered this story in a writing competition. It’s not my best short story but when I won first prize I promised to post it once it was published. I then forgot about it, so here it is. If you read the longer version last year under the title ‘Lightning’, please ignore this repeat so that my newer followers can enjoy it.
I’ll also post a couple of poems from ‘Friends In My Garden’ today as I know that some of you enjoy them too.
WEATHER ALERT
In the paddocks around the house our cows had gathered in groups, their calves, now ready for weening, herded within the protective circle created by their mothers. Hay, almost a metre high, was ready for harvesting in paddocks around the dam and up the hill, towards the forest. November brought hot winds to much of our south west. In Europe they talk of the mistral that blows for days or weeks at a time, sending vulnerable people in France and Spain mad. Coming overland from the desert, our easterly winds had a similar effect on me.
On that particular day I’d gone out to check the water troughs in the paddock below the house and was surprised to note that, instead of lumbering towards the utility which they usually did in the hope of finding easy food, all the cows with calves stayed put. There was little movement amongst them, except for the odd shaking of a head, accompanied by a high pitched moo or a sort of snorting. I could feel their agitation.
The air was still and oppressive. Looking up, I noted thick grey clouds which seemed to grow darker and heavier as I watched. Tails flicked and ears twitched; my four-legged mob didn’t like Nature’s developments.
Then I, too, heard it – the low rumble of thunder. The first bolt of lightning pierced clouds, forking down into the forest. Walking back towards the utility, I heard the thump as a tree or a large branch hit the ground.
Driving back to the house, I felt sorry for the cattle and wondered why they stayed so far from the protective covering of the trees which were all around us. The answer was obvious when, ten minutes later, I watched through the kitchen window as lightning struck the tallest karri, near where I’d parked, shearing it in half.
As a newcomer to the role of farming, I was concerned about fire. Animals grazing near the house were my insurance against losing our home that way. Rain wiped out our first hay crop, but our simple beasts taught me two important lessons – stay away from trees in a storm and if the cattle are concerned, it’s probably time to seek refuge.
Dalmatian Cruise: Dubrovnik
A Turner sky as we sailed towards Dubrovnik
Looking back towards Split, early morning.
The most picturesque part of the day was as we sailed towards land at about seven that morning. The sky looked even more threatening than it had over Split, but I call these my Turners and am hoping that an artistic member of my family will create a painting from them.
Even from the ocean Dubrovnik seemed to be wealthier than the other ports we had visited. This might be because so many of the residences look fairly new. Everywhere I turned, up and down the coast, terracotta tiles and white or cream walls covered the hillsides, interspersed with trees.
Some houses came almost to the water, where moored boats presumably belonged to the property owners.
Rain and cloud envelop the bridge.
Our ship was turning, heading for the harbour opposite the glamorous homes when, through the rain, we saw a beautiful bridge, seeming to hang in space. With bad weather making further photography impossible, as well as threatening to give us colds, we retreated into our cabin for breakfast.
Breakfast. Even shared it was enormous.
By day four we learned to order just one cooked breakfast with two plates and cutlery as the kitchen staff seemed unable or unwilling to follow our requests for anything other than giant sized portions.
Our ship was moored some distance from the city so, after passing through the usual customs routine, we headed for one of the local buses which were lined up, waiting for us. A notice in our daily sheet had warned us that we’d have to buy a return ticket for about US$12, before leaving the ship. Sometimes the organisation for such simple things struck me as ridiculous. Apparently our shuttle buses were supplied by the cities at earlier ports, but for Dubrovnik, a fifteen minute ride, we had to pay extra. Ship’s crew added everything else onto our bills; why not make it simple for all and just add on that fare too?
Men’s Shed for Writer’s Presentation
I must be telling them about the nerdy teenager that I was.
So, I happily went along to the Mundaring Speaker’s Circle on Thursday, presuming that I’d have a few men and more of their wives, as my audience. One lady arrived, followed by another one I know from my own social groups. All the rest were men. I’m used to public speaking so that wasn’t a problem, but a bunch of guys who get together to fix and make things? Too late to adjust my talk, I leapt in, hoping to at least keep them awake. One chap gave a mighty yawn and another seemed to be nodding off, but when I got to the part about me being a nerdy teenager they all laughed and I could relax a bit.
My son is a comedian. He had warned me about adapting to the audience. I skipped a few paragraphs and elaborated on the more entertaining sections of my development as a writer. Once I got to the part where I read out sections of the novel, I could lay it on, (I’m a frustrated actress as well as a writer) and we all enjoyed ourselves.
Now I feel ready to entertain any group – old or young, male or female. They get free entertainment, I sell a few books and we share afternoon tea. Any suggestions for groups near Perth in WA wanting a speaker, I’m available. Please just tell them about me and/or ask me.
Dalmatian Cruise: Split
Early morning as we approach Split
Split, our next port of call, was what I’d hoped to find on this cruise down the Dalmatian coast. Having read that the scenery was spectacular, we were up and out on our balcony again early on the morning of the 12th May. I missed the sunrise, but as we approached the city, I was
Palm trees on the waterfront reminded me of Nice
struck by its
Shapes of buildings along the quay with mountains behind.
similarity to Nice on the south coast of France. Palm trees lined a boulevard that runs along the water front, the harbour was busy with large tourist ships like ours, lining up to dock, and the local fishermen seemed to compete with leisure craft bustling about on the water which really was a stunning shade of blue.
Part of the ancient palace wall used to create today’s business and living quarters
From a distance everything looked well maintained, but this is an old port city. The famous palace, which still occupies a large area, was built towards the end of the 3rd century when the then Roman emperor, Diocletian, decided to retire from his position in Constantinople (he was very unpopular, so the smart move was to return to his homeland before someone killed him) and use Greek slaves to build his palace, including a mausoleum. (More about that later.)
Friends In My Garden: A Cute Little Snowdrop
The following poem was written for one of my granddaughters when she was about four years old. Many other grannies bought my book because they had their own little snowdrop – a sweet child with blonde hair and that entrancing giggle we hear from a happy little girl. Mine is now in her twenties, a charming young woman, she still fills my heart with joy when she comes to visit my garden.
If you are fortunate to have a Snowdrop in your garden of friends and family I hope you enjoy this poem and that you will pass it on to your own Snowdrop even if she is no longer little.
A Cute Little Snowdrop
A Tinkerbell laugh
an ‘Aren’t I beautiful?’ grin.
Pretty petals
soft and light
purest white
little snowdrop
shakes her head
shimmers her leaves
twirling and dancing on tippy toe
swaying and bowing in the breeze.
Dalmatian Cruise: Zadar
A panoramic image of the sea, the sky and the city of Zadar.
After taking those amazing photos of the sunrise, (scroll down to them if you missed that post) we retreated inside the cabin for breakfast – fruit, yoghurt, eggs, bacon, sausage and tomato plus a pot of tea for Sue and a pot of coffee for me – enough for a family of four served to each of us, by our very obliging butler. By the time we finished breakfast and got dressed, our ship 
was approaching land, so we went back to our balcony to take more photos.
Zadar is now part of Croatia but in the past it belonged to Rome, to Venice and to Italy after WW1. It was heavily bombed by the Germans in 1944 and became part of Yugoslavia when Tito moved in later that year.
From our position at sea
Plenty of building activity in the new part of the city
we could see that today Zadar is a bustling modern city with lots of tall buildings and in the distance, the mountains create an interesting backdrop. I had the impression that the people of Zadar enjoy water sports in summer and skiing in winter.
Favourite Fragrance Day
Roses from my garden
Apparently today is a day for discussing our favourite fragrance, so I’m putting my ideas down here and hope to get feedback from those of you for whom a memory is evoked by a particular fragrance. The sense of smell is supposed to be the strongest for bringing back things in our emotional memories.
I think everyone likes the smell of roses. I have chosen several old-fashioned varieties because they do have a perfume, but are not too strong.
Those of you who have read my piece some time ago on Eucalypt Leaves, might recall that I was grabbed by that smell when feeling homesick in London.
Dalmatian Cruise: Off the coast of Zadar Croatia
5.50 am
5.52 am
Up very early (for me) on our second morning, the 11th May 2016, I captured the sunrise as we headed for Zadar in Croatia.
5.53am
5.55am
If I wasn’t taking these photos I wouldn’t believe the way the sky changed from moment to moment.
Dalmation Cruise: Koper, Slovenia
Celebrity Constellation towers above other ships in Koper’s harbour
Koper in Slovenia was our first port of call on the Dalmatian cruise. The local guide, who also worked as a teacher, complained about everything to do with capitalism and democracy, claiming that life was better for everyone under the communist regime. She appeared to have little pride in her country, except for the importance of the port as the entrance to much of central Europe.
We had difficulty understanding how her life was better under communism as she worked with her family, digging salt from the marshes, from the age of seven. She obviously had had a tough life and when we walked into
Friends In My Garden: Wings Of Turquoise
Like the other poem which I have posted today, this was written for a friend who had been in pain, emotionally and physically. I wanted to depict a woman who was once artistic, creative, talented in many ways, but who was trapped in a marriage of violence and humiliation. It applies to any women and girls who are beaten and made to feel inadequate or worse, by men who bully them. To see such women blossom once freed from that sort of environment, gives joy to my soul and theirs. Please pass this on to anyone you think might benefit from and appreciate it. The words are mine but the message is for everyone. As always, I would love to receive your comments, especially if this poem gives courage to someone you know.
Wings Of Turquoise
Is this the same bird I once knew,
a dove beige pale and sadness grey
of shrivelled soul
caged in fear
feathers pecked
and head held low
to hide her pain?
Now she glides on wings of turquoise
golden tipped
a shout of sunshine in her laugh
her eyes sing ‘Joie de vivre.’
Fly high my friend
now free now strong
love your life
delight in your dreams
soar on winds of happiness.
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