Knots in the String.

Corps de Ballet...

Corps de Ballet…

The rhythms of our life are changing ever so slightly, evidenced by a cooler night here and there and branches of leaves beginning to change colour on the two giant liquid ambers. They vacillate from claret to amber and are a reminder of things to come. So too the tips of the four Japanese maples – now a nutmeg colour. The big willows and silverbirch, even the fruit trees are staunch though – summer green and shady.

The blackberries and mulberries are pickable and ready for the pantry shelves. OH is brilliant at jams and chutneys and last week with a gargantuan crop of nectarines in the kitchen, made rosé-coloured nectarine and apple jam, almost a paste, and I can imagine it with a crumbling tart cheddar and a slice of crusty bread. The bulk of the nectarine crop was frozen for winter because he and I are squirrels at heart.

The swallows (or maybe swiftlets) dip and dive around the dog’s legs on the beach and I always tell myself they’re preparing for a long migration to Russia. But in truth, I believe they just wander across the Australian landscape and are sometimes called vagrants, which is rather an ordinary description of such a delightful bird.

We find weekly routines are beginning to creep back into life after the summer hiatus. It’s soothing having had time out – one sits back and breathes and does things like writing a novel and starting a weekly newsletter but life goes on at its steady pace and ballet class started back today after a three-month break.

How good too, to see the studios, devastated in a massive flood in October of last year, almost back to their splendid selves. Only the soft flooring to go down now in one studio.

And wonderful to see everyone again – our friendships were cemented in a senior corps de ballet after performing twice for a packed auditorium at the end of 2021.

Cripes that’s a good memory!

Who’d have thought we could pull it off? After all, we’re of ‘an age’, not exactly tutu types. (There’s more about that day on https://pruebatten.com/2021/11/28/me-on-stage/)

We had a good laugh as we began at the barre, expecting groans and clicks as bodies were asked to work! For myself, various parts of my body complained bitterly. I bandaged the right knee, ‘just in case’ but astonishingly, touchwood, all the ligaments and tendons above and below the joint feel good. Surprising as I’m always in a perennially injured state somewhere or other.

Having wonderful music to practice to is integral and when we completed a new routine across the floor of the studio in groups of three (think Vaganova, I said to myself) and in time to a beautiful melody, I confess to being pretty chuffed. It means my brain and body were actually in sync for once and that’s no mean feat at 70!

Ballet’s important to me. It gives me balance. (More on that one day. Maybe.) It stretches the mind and body – the two must communicate, be in harmony. And it gives me another inch of height. When one is 5 foot 3, being able to reach into higher cupboards matters! But it also gives me an enormous sense of self. It’s hard to explain. I think when one achieves something difficult to the best of one’s ability, it can’t help but elevate a view of oneself.

I’ve always loved ballet for its grace and perfection and have found one of the hardest things with Covid was not being able to attend live performances. This year, with hope for the future, I’ve purchased tickets to see three visiting companies and maybe with good luck and much vaccination, husband and self can head to Melbourne to attend the Australian Ballet’s performance of Romeo and Juliet. After our own performance of Dance of the Knights from the same ballet, I’ve got a vested interest (read the above link to my blog for explanation).

Reading:

In print, Juliet Marillier’s Song of Flight. The next in the Warrior Bard series. I’m a huge fan of Marillier, have read almost everything she’s ever written. I am two chapters into this latest and predictably she has neatly hooked me into the narrative. She writes in such an understated manner and her world-building is so subtle. Her ability to weave myth and legend through her work is the style of a master.

Former Artistic Director of the Australian Ballet, David Macallister’s brilliantly humble, honest and witty memoir of his life, Soar. A second read. I loved it!

On Kindle and on audio, I’m still listening to last week’s mentions and loving them. ‘Specially Cornwell’s 1356.

Watching:

I’m binge-ing Lark Rise to Candleford on Britbox.

This, from Wikipedia – ‘The series is set in the small Oxfordshire hamlet of Lark Rise and the wealthier neighbouring town of Candleford towards the end of the 19th century. The series chronicles the daily lives of farmworkers, craftsmen, and gentry, observing the characters in loving, boisterous, and competing communities of families, rivals, friends, and neighbours.

The story is seen through the eyes of a young girl, Laura Timmins, as she leaves Lark Rise to start a new life under the wing of her mother's cousin, the independent and effervescent Dorcas Lane who is Post Mistress at the local Post Office in Candleford.’

To which I would add we see the best and worst of rural Victorian England. Beautifully staged and acted and I’m completely invested in the characters. The series are based on Flora Thompson’s semi-autobiographical novels written between 1939 and 1943. Looking at the timing of publication, I can see the stories might have been an escape from the awful tragedies of World War Two. One can believe that human nature was better, kinder, simpler. I recommend this to anyone who wants a stress-free escape from the threats beyond our own shores currently.

OH and I have also watched Monty Don’s American Gardens because we’re gardeners and I have a ‘thing’ for Monty Don.

Also watched all the series run on SBS on Demand of Alone. Now there’s a challenge for anyone who considers themselves an introvert! This also from Wiki-P: ‘…the self-documented daily struggles of 10 individuals as they survive alone in the wilderness for as long as possible using a limited amount of survival equipment (and no packed food or water). With the exception of medical check-ins, the participants are isolated from each other and all other humans.’ The deprivation, the survival skill, the way a solitary mind works – fascinating. The locations have covered Norway, Patagonia, Mongolia and North Vancouver Island – not exactly the amenable east coast of Tasmania! Perhaps then, I’m really only an armchair introvert...

I also watch SAS Australia which began last night. Excluding the fact that most of the participants are celebs, what they face is gruelling. Last night, they had to deal with two of my most real fears – fire and drowning and not just drowning in the water but within a sunken plane. To clarify, I hate flying and small spaces, and am always happy when I get to the other side of Hobart’s Tasman Bridge.

I watch the show because I want to see how the mind works in terrifying circumstances. Last year, I was caught in a rip. I was alone, not a soul on the beach. I’ve always considered myself a strong swimmer, and calm in the water. But let me say that as I was pulled further and further out and my legs pulled down by the undertow, panic set in and every single thing I know about handling a rip or undertow vanished. Perhaps it was only because I am a strong swimmer, that I managed to swim to where my feet could eventually touch the bottom. I can tell you I sat shaking on the beach for quite some time.

So watching these people, I’m in awe and I use everything I learn for my fictional characters.

Random readings:

On Substack, Letters of Note: please do read the second most recent post on the hilarious ways some famous folk have signed off letters.

Manners go out the window and I shall never write Cheers or Kind Regards again.

But then I’m not famous. So, till then…

Toodles!