JOURNAL
documenting
&
discovering joyful things
The climb
"Let's climb!" shouted Ralph. And so we climbed, free of foreboding.
In the shadow of those great rocks was no ominous hum, no sudden chill, no tingling premonition of hidden watchers' eyes. Instead, there was sunlight trickling through old bracken and ferns. Filtered water splashing out of rocks. A tiny boulder in the shape of a love-heart, wedged between two giants and framing a window to the bottom of the world.
"Let's climb!" said Ralph again. So we ventured off the pathway and scrambled over rocks and in between narrow passes and under natural bridges and, all the while, we found sunlight and clean air and great beauty... and no ghosts.
When you come alone to a place as ancient and spirit-filled as Hanging Rock, secrets whisper at you and watch you from just inside the other plane, and goosebumps come as naturally as breathing. The boundary between imagination and experience is blurred, and you are at the mercy of Place.
When you come in the company of two small children, however, it is hard to hear the spirits over the coughs and sneezes and "My legs are tired!" and "Let's have a race!" and giggles and kisses and "Can I have a banana?" and "Can you carry me?"
I thought the spirits had left Hanging Rock, at least while we were there, retreating into caves to find silence away from our relentless noise. But as I prepared these photographs last night to share with you, and I realised the ghosts had been there all along, watching, as we climbed.
Can you see them? In the strange shadows and sometimes-odd light, and in the many, many faces in the boulders?
Ahhhhh, tread lightly!
What's going on?
In breaking news, I made homemade bread AND homemade butter. Colour me smug!
This is a kind of "taking stock" post, inspired by Pip from Meet Me at Mikes. The idea is to stop, or at least slow down, and put some thought into what has been taking up your time and dwelling in your thoughts of late. Only, I wanted to make my list a liiiiittle bit shorter and I really liked the prompts created by Michelle from Daughter of the Woods, so I borrowed hers...
Carousel of Life // More than 12 months after my first letterpress lesson, I have finally saved up enough to get another lesson, and to buy some supplies to start practicing. I can’t wait to begin making beautiful, printed things and hopefully, if they’re good enough, to send them to you guys!
Heart-moment // On the weekend the children and I wandered up to Lygon Street, and we didn’t do anything special but with them it was all special. Walking together up a hill, looking in on everyone’s gardens; catching a tram (“A tram with STAIRS, Mummy!”); smiling at all the people outside Readings Bookstore who were wearing Griffindor scarves and round, black-rimmed spectacles; introducing the children to chocolate cannoli; trying on a shirt and hearing Scout breathe “You look lovely, Mummy, that really suits you!” for all the world as if she was my girlfriend and not my four-year-old daughter.
Moment of Tears // Poor little Ralph is sick. Not only that, but just before Mr B and I were about to go out two nights ago (and trust me this is a VERY rare occurrence), Ralph dislocated his elbow. Driving him to the hospital was the most heartbreaking experience, with the poor little man clutching his arm and sobbing “too bumpy” at every twist and turn in the road. He followed it up with a fever that night, and all the next day, and his suffering is all just too sad.
Looking forward to// A healthy family. And also, a trip to Tasmania that we are planning for spring. I am dreaming of clean salt-sea air. Of seagulls and forests and fruit-picking and smooth river pebbles.
Pieces // I had to buy a ball gown for a gala ball I will be attending on the weekend, so I used the app The Real Real to find something pretty great at a budget price. I got a call from the couriers yesterday: my dress had arrived, but they were holding it until I paid $278 in duties and taxes. Whaaaaaat!? Suddenly my budget dress is not so budget, and I don’t really have a choice as I can’t return it to get my money back until I actually have hold of it. Lesson bitterly learned.
Music // I am bereft. Bereft of music! I can’t get the SONOS to work with my new phone, it’s very frustrating. And if I have to hear "Let It Go" from Frozen one more time…
Series/Movies // Oh my gosh Manhattan. Have you seen it? I love how real the characters are, how they grapple with fear and secrets and ambition and love and family and the ethics of it all, of what it meant, in the middle of World War II, to build an atomic bomb.
How about you? What's going on?
Rituals: the first cup of tea
What do your mornings look like, first thing?
Mine start before the sun. I tip-toe into the children's room and turn on the AC to take the chill out of the air before they wake up, then I walk downstairs and, before anything else happens, I fill the kettle and flip it on.
All those little morning tasks: letting the cat out, turning on the downstairs heat, finding the kids' clothes for the day... all performed to the whoosh-and-hum soundtrack of rapidly boiling water.
Click. Kettle's done. Steaming water over tea, a dash of milk, that first sip so hot it's almost painful but oh so good on the back of my throat.
I take my tea and sit down. Sometimes I write, sometimes I draw. Or I write letters, read letters, listen to podcasts, read a magazine. But always, there is the first cup of tea of the day. The early morning is my special, quiet time, while the rest of my house sleeps, and I could not imagine starting it without tea.
I didn't always keep this ritual. For many years I was a "breakfast first" kind of gal, only moving to tea or coffee mid-morning. But many years ago, while visiting Melbourne on a work conference when I lived in Sydney, I stayed with my good friend Deb in her home. I was feeling a little (a lot) lost in my new job, but I mostly remember that week as a wonderful time of celebrating my friendship with Deb. She was an extraordinarily generous host. She chauffeured me around the city for my conference; took me to different pubs and restaurants every night (where we were ridiculous and believed we were hilarious like only old friends can be); and every morning, as soon as we woke up, she made me a cup of tea. The first cup of tea of the day.
All these years later, I can still picture the corner of her share-house where a tall, gas radiator was attached to the wall, like so many other old houses in Melbourne, pumping out new heat. I can still feel the warmth of the tea Deb had made me, as I cup the mug in my hands.
And every morning, when the scalding hot tea soothes my throat and kick-starts my day, I smile a little smile, and think about Deb.
What about you? What are your morning rituals?
Mail art: while on holidays
While we were in Sydney on our holidays, I painted these handmade envelopes to send out into the world. A pair of animals, books and coffee, but mostly wildflowers. I have a lot of fun painting wildflowers.
Also while we were on holidays, Scout made mail of her own. She asked to send a postcard to her best friend, chose the postcard, wrote her friend's name, signed her own name, and dictated a message for me to write. Mostly, it was a love message. "We rode a train," she said. "We went to the zoo." But mostly Scout wanted me to write "I love you" and "I love you more." She put the stamp on herself, and posted it herself.
I feel absurdly proud that this little mail project of mine has inspired my daughter to remember others in such a tangible and loving way. Scout and her friend are only four, but already they understand the joy that comes from sending and receiving letters. Long live snail-mail.
Onwards to the wildflowers.
Five in nature
↑↑ Penguin Bloom – The odd little bird that saved a family
↑↑ Into the Woods is a beautiful exhibition of altered landscape photography, by Ellie Davies. It is on now at the Crane Kalman Gallery if you're nearby and would like a closer look
↑↑ Stunning oak-leaf pendant! On my Christmas list
↑↑ This house in Brooklyn is proof that you can have a beautiful garden in the city... even if you don't have any land
↑↑ Bring the sky inside. Light and music. It's like the enchanted ceiling in Hogwarts
Come into the woods
Come to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods. Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill. ― John Muir
You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. ― Li Bai
A handful of letters
My postman, Patrick*, told me last week, "You get special mail. Very special." I like to think that decorated mail puts a smile not only on the face of the recipient, but on each and every person who handles it along its journey.
Here is a handful** - a very big handful - of the letters and postcards that Patrick and I have been enjoying lately, from all over the world. I don't always share incoming mail on my blog, but I thought today I would take a moment to celebrate some of the wonderful, generous, creative people who have taken the time to write to me.
Their letters are sometimes funny, sometimes musical, always heartfelt. Each one contains insights into the writers' worlds: tiny moments, glimpses into another way of living. Do you want to meet them?
↑↑ Luci from Oakhurst, USA, loves to walk in the Yosemite National Park, and hiking up to Mirror Lake is one of her favourite climbs
↑↑ Pia from Strallen, Germany, loves how Instagram puts her in touch with people she calls "beautiful souls"
↑↑ Sara from Carlton, Australia, just finished a botanical art course, and quit her job to apply for a Masters in Urban Horticulture
↑↑ Jen from Bossier City, USA, says "The Sound and the Fury" is her favourite Faulkner novel
↑↑ Camilla from Fonnes, Norway, told me about the Norwegian Constitution Day, on which (among other things) children can have as many hot dogs and ice creams as they want!
↑↑ Ally from South Hobart, Australia, once cycled around Brugge in the snow
↑↑ Joy from Nottingham, UK, is an artist, crafter, crocheter and sewer, who wants to write and illustrate her first book
↑↑ Esmerelda from Tustin, USA, designs cakes, greeting cards and chalkboards
↑↑ Andrea from Philadelphia, USA, loves the beer, food and museums in her city
↑↑ Wiebke from Dusseldorf, Germany, is starting a business with her sister, making postcards
↑↑ Roxanne from Carole Park, Australia, never got the mail I made for her, but saw it on my blog. I'm so sorry Roxanne. It didn't return to me so I hope it reaches you one day!
↑↑ Máiréad from San Mateo, USA, painstakingly embroidered this card herself
↑↑ Charlene from Oakland, USA, is about to have her second child, and is readying herself for two under two (I remember how that feels: equal parts excitement and terror!)
↑↑ Jessica from Hamburg, Germany, found this in a shop in Florence at the end of the Ponte Veccio Bridge
↑↑ Kay from Pleasanton, USA, is about to exhibit her art at a local venue
↑↑ Monica from Lake Michigan, USA, discovered a beach in the middle of America while on a holiday, and she and her husband loved it so much they moved there
↑↑ Cheryl from Perth, Australia, quotes St Augustine ("The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page")
↑↑ Jessica from Hamburg, Germany, found this postcard in an old album at a flea-market
↑↑ Rae from Chicago, USA, is an architecture geek who likes all those house-hunting and renovation TV shows as much as I do
The Minions plaster (thanks Ralph!) that I'm wearing is keeping salve on a particularly nasty burn, sustained when the sealing-wax I was using caught fire. I attempted to blow it out but was a little too enthusiastic, and the melted wax still on fire spilled over my finger. It's ugly and blistered and has been hurting for two days. Which is all to say, don't let anyone tell you snail-mail isn't a blood sport!
* Oh my gosh, I only just saw that. Postman Pat!
** If you have sent me mail and you don't see it here, please don't think that it didn't arrive or that I didn't love it. It's just that my filing system is pretty chaotic. I don't share every piece of mail I receive on the blog, and I chose these particular letters to photograph based on the fact that they were in the pile closest to my hand when I picked up my camera! Each of the lovely letters you see here and the lovely letters you don't thrilled me to the core when I found them in my letter box.
Road + dawn
We left the keys to our motel room in a box outside the locked reception, and drove out into the dark. The kind of dark that holds its breath before the dawn. Cold air outside frosted the car windows and the children drew on the melting glass, painting the dark road, as it flashed past, with eerie swirls and scribbles.
In between dense pockets of fog, our headlights flashed over warning signs. CAUTION: SNOW AND BLACK ICE ON ROAD. Subconsciously we both leaned forward in our seats, squinting uselessly into the spotlit dark for unseen hazards as we hurtled forwards at 100 kilometres an hour.
By the time the sky began to brighten, ever so lightly, we were desperate for coffee, but there was nary a town in sight. The car rushed on through the mist. "We are driving inside clouds!" the children shouted for joy.
And then all at once, as if some unseen celestial homeowner had flipped a switch, the sun came up, and the day was glorious. Clouds floated skywards, and winter sun filtered through and over us like gold-dust. If angels had suddenly started singing opera out of sunbursts, it could not have been more magnificent a morning, and none of us would have been surprised.
Still we sped forward, now telling each other intermittently, "WHAT a morning!" and "What a beautiful dawn!"
We finally found coffee and Vegemite-on-toast about half an hour later, but all four of us were already caffeinated by the day.
Capturing the castle
Carbisdale Castle north of Inverness in the Scottish Highlands is for sale for offers over 1.5 million (Australian) dollars. Three-bedroom houses sell for more than that where I live!
Shall we all pool our resources and buy it together? There will be plenty of room for all of us: the castle sits on 16 acres and has a ballroom, grand hall, minstrel's gallery, billiard room, dining room, drawing room, library, and 40 bedrooms.
It was used as a youth hostel for many decades and had some water damage during a particularly severe winter a couple of years back so it needs a bit of TLC, but we are not afraid of a little bit of hard work, are we?