your description of your summer day, so just right. I love the feeling of salt crusting on my skin after swimming, it just feels good.
good luck with the harvest, there are a few paddocks around this area that have been cut in the past week, i expect they too will be hoping it's dry enough to bale and store before the wet arrives on sunday night, I don't miss those days.
Husband is just packing an esky for an afternoon and evening in the ute as we speak, Kate. It'll be a long one - and even then, back to it tomorrow. I won't see him now till maybe 10PM?
Yes, I LOVE the feel of salt on the skin - that tight, sun-drenched feel. As I look down, I can see I still have sand on my feet too, from this morning's swim with husband. Gorgeous day. Must enjoy these when they're offered.
We are so lucky to live in this glorious country. It is a much cooler summer in my part of Australia than usual, but that just makes it a delight. Days in the 20s, nights in the teens, regular rainfall but not too much, and lots of sunshine.
I’m glad you’re finding your usual haunts less haunted by visitors than you’d feared. And thanks for the Introvert video. I’ve subscribed to their videos. I am also one who needs regular contact with nature and regular time alone to recharge. Truly a gift not a burden.
All the best for the year ahead dear Prue. Hugs and best wishes. 🤗🤗😘😘💕💕
Aren't we tho', Beth? It is a wonderful country and we must cherish it.
Our summer has been so odd thus far. Constant easterly streams filled with seawinds, chill, grey skies and mizzle. When the odd blue day occurs, we grab it and run.
Our temperatures have been all over the place and at night, we're often walking the Terrier with puffa jackets zipped to our chins.
But yesterday (Friday) and today have been the stuff of Tassie summers. Blue seas, blue skies and warm enough to wear shorts and shortsleeves. And to swim - diving right down under the water and feeling at home under the sea. No icecream headaches, no goosebumps. It had to happen eventually...
We, too, live in a small community that has been transforming bit by bit. The sweet protected "beach" my kids and I enjoyed is now crawling with tourists every summer weekend, the surf-tumbled bits of glass gone, gathered up and hauled away. Cars line the streets and trash is left behind willy-nilly. Covid brought the greatest influx of new faces and attitudes. Certain waterfront areas are now thick with ostentatious new homes that block the view from those who live on the other side. I wish I could understand the constant need for bigger, glitzier, more, and even more importantly, the disrespect for the spaces and places they're choosing to live and recreate. But your Christmas beetle isn't worried about all that, and the colors so glorious. I appreciate the opportunity to be reminded of a less judgmental perspective. Thank you, Prue.
Oh Elizabeth, I literally have to kick myself not to be judgemental about the entitled, as we call them. All money no taste. We have a similar thing here - people build monoliths. In a seaside village? Why?
Have a look at coastal villages in Scandinavia and see how tasteful are the wooden homes, I want to say. But what is the point because if X has this, that and the other, then Y and Z have to as well.
More than anything though, it is the disrespect for our environment which is what attracted them here in the first place.
I often think about all the ways the "having" could be used for good. I guess then it would be called GIVING. Glad to have like-minded folks everywhere with whom I can feel more connected.
Cumber-bitch! OMG, that is priceless!!! I'll remember that one till the old grey cells disintegrate!
I think seeing other parts of the world via Substack and Instagram (that none of us may ever get to visit) is one of the finer benefits of the digital age. I'm glad you think the lagoon is a bit of alright. It certainly is by us.
I must admit, I am not the author of Cumber-bitch. I first heard it when Mr. C was an up and coming actor-- when women fans sprouted in 2010; he was a very appealing Sherlock.:)
Good grief...Vita Sackville-West must be my kindred spirit! Her quote describes exactly how I feel as I'm growing older. I find myself withdrawing more from the world's bad news and finding happiness within my family and our own neck of the woods. We're not a vacation destination, so I don't have to deal with all of that!
I still enjoy learning (and experiencing, when possible) other places, people, and cultures. But, they must be of my own choosing, in my own timeframe. I'm becoming 'set in my ways' and perfectly content to be so.
Your stories about the beautiful island you call home are so enjoyable and as Ma Bell used to say: It's the next best thing to being there! As always, thank you for sharing.
I think we reach a stage where we know what is good for us in order to enjoy life in the kindest and best way. We have worked hard to get where we are and earning that knowledge hasn't been an easy road.
Here's to many more Substacks and sharing of lifestyles - I think we all glean things from each other. Thank you so much for your posts and for reading mine.
Your words and pictures, Prue, are beautiful and evocative. I love your expression 'I have not bent the river' in the context of 'go with the flow' - what a fabulous way to look at things!
I hadn't ever heard of 'solastalgia' - that's so interesting. I don't live in an area with a holiday-migratory population, but we are very mindful of the influx of people on lovely places at peak times of year. We're pretty flexible in when we can choose to go away - in fact, we've just come back from three days in Norfolk, which thanks to it being January (dark, cold UK winter) was beautifully uncrowded!
Rebecca, the problem with being a very leathery old mermaid is that the very coast and sea I crave are also craved by the masses in holiday time. To be honest, I need to get over it and make constructive plans for the seasonal invasion. It usually works.
Also a countdown. Only 3 and a half weeks left before the kids go back to school and crowds drain away like water down a plughole...
I remember our trips to the Hebridean island of Coll off the west coast of Scotland - there was much talk of the human 'summer swallows' who migrate there every summer and head back south once it gets (even) cold(er) again.
I think summer swallows sounds so kind and forgiving. Thus far, I've heard of the great unwashed, locusts and thrip. I'm sure there are many more colloquial terms.
And how lucky were you to get to the Hebrides!!!!!!
We, too, get uppity when the tourists arrive and we (well, mostly I) have to remind myself that the same reasons others come here is the reason we wanted to move here too. It's lovely, and people are more often then not very jolly when they are here. But I forget and get grumpy when the pavements are crowded and I have to dodge the people and their dogs and melting ice cream cones (all year-around!).
Separately, That BBC short snippet on introverts is really well done and clear. Reading Susan Cain's book Quiet revolutionised my world. There was finally a vocabulary for how I felt and moved through the world. There were benefits and strengths in being introverted! Who knew!?! I was able to recast little behaviours I had taught myself when I was at University to try to meet people into actual skills. I could understood them not only as useful comping mechanisms but also strengths. And particularly the need to manage how we spend and rebuild our energies, that it is different to extroverts. So, yes, I perfectly understand your need to be quiet and alone. ❤️
I must have a look at Susan Cain's book. The hardest part of isolating oneself to regird is that when one reintroduces oneself it's a bit of a battle. This is my first week back to the annual routine after our conjoined, self-imposed retreat since Christmas (not counting family interaction) and I find I'm pooped!
I agree with you about the reasons people may move somewhere, but what saddens me is that when they have built their monoliths and consumed the peace, they go on to transport greedy city values to what is in essence, mostly a very unsophisticated little township. I may have said this before, but when you ask someone politely to leash their dog because there are nesting birds or to pick up their dog poo and you are told that they are on holiday so their dog can be too, you give up, go home and seek out emptier spaces in which to relax.
Oh gosh Prue, that sounds just awful! How horrible that people act so entitled. I’d hide too! I’m in the middle of the low season and actually avoided the peak summer here last year so I’m pretty sure I’ll feel like you are now next August. Wishing you kind people and peace and quiet until they leave!
wow! So many memories came to me as you shared the photos of the tractors‚ baling. I grew up on a dairy farm and did a lot of this work. It is sad to see all the farm land where I am being sold to home builders. The country is my home and yet I see it changing fast.
I enjoyed this post so very much—finding so many topics where I thought, “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel!”
I had to laugh about the “locusts.” Over the summer months, our area is invaded by constant fleet of huge pickup trucks dragging house-sized camper trailers (I think you call them caravans), heading for the nearby lake and campground. But this time of year, it sure is wonderful to have our peaceful Foothills back.
And the introvert thing…oh, do I understand!
Loved your photos of your lucerne harvest—what a beautiful farm you have 😊 I hope you got your crop in before the rain.
Since I loved “Foster” by Claire Keegan, I will definitely get her new book on my To Be Read list! Thank you for all the great reading here!
Prue, thanks for sharing this narration. The beetle stole the show for me. The color is so vibrant and true, I can almost see the sky on its body. Any travel plans this summer?
your description of your summer day, so just right. I love the feeling of salt crusting on my skin after swimming, it just feels good.
good luck with the harvest, there are a few paddocks around this area that have been cut in the past week, i expect they too will be hoping it's dry enough to bale and store before the wet arrives on sunday night, I don't miss those days.
Husband is just packing an esky for an afternoon and evening in the ute as we speak, Kate. It'll be a long one - and even then, back to it tomorrow. I won't see him now till maybe 10PM?
Yes, I LOVE the feel of salt on the skin - that tight, sun-drenched feel. As I look down, I can see I still have sand on my feet too, from this morning's swim with husband. Gorgeous day. Must enjoy these when they're offered.
We are so lucky to live in this glorious country. It is a much cooler summer in my part of Australia than usual, but that just makes it a delight. Days in the 20s, nights in the teens, regular rainfall but not too much, and lots of sunshine.
I’m glad you’re finding your usual haunts less haunted by visitors than you’d feared. And thanks for the Introvert video. I’ve subscribed to their videos. I am also one who needs regular contact with nature and regular time alone to recharge. Truly a gift not a burden.
All the best for the year ahead dear Prue. Hugs and best wishes. 🤗🤗😘😘💕💕
Aren't we tho', Beth? It is a wonderful country and we must cherish it.
Our summer has been so odd thus far. Constant easterly streams filled with seawinds, chill, grey skies and mizzle. When the odd blue day occurs, we grab it and run.
Our temperatures have been all over the place and at night, we're often walking the Terrier with puffa jackets zipped to our chins.
But yesterday (Friday) and today have been the stuff of Tassie summers. Blue seas, blue skies and warm enough to wear shorts and shortsleeves. And to swim - diving right down under the water and feeling at home under the sea. No icecream headaches, no goosebumps. It had to happen eventually...
Cheers, my friend.
Happy, happy sigh. Enjoy!
We, too, live in a small community that has been transforming bit by bit. The sweet protected "beach" my kids and I enjoyed is now crawling with tourists every summer weekend, the surf-tumbled bits of glass gone, gathered up and hauled away. Cars line the streets and trash is left behind willy-nilly. Covid brought the greatest influx of new faces and attitudes. Certain waterfront areas are now thick with ostentatious new homes that block the view from those who live on the other side. I wish I could understand the constant need for bigger, glitzier, more, and even more importantly, the disrespect for the spaces and places they're choosing to live and recreate. But your Christmas beetle isn't worried about all that, and the colors so glorious. I appreciate the opportunity to be reminded of a less judgmental perspective. Thank you, Prue.
Oh Elizabeth, I literally have to kick myself not to be judgemental about the entitled, as we call them. All money no taste. We have a similar thing here - people build monoliths. In a seaside village? Why?
Have a look at coastal villages in Scandinavia and see how tasteful are the wooden homes, I want to say. But what is the point because if X has this, that and the other, then Y and Z have to as well.
More than anything though, it is the disrespect for our environment which is what attracted them here in the first place.
It's a have have have world, in which we live.
So hard not to be judgmental. Sigh...
I often think about all the ways the "having" could be used for good. I guess then it would be called GIVING. Glad to have like-minded folks everywhere with whom I can feel more connected.
That lagoon! I love your descriptions of an area I may never get to in my lifetime.
I must watch the Courier. I’m a card carrying Cumber-bitch.
Cumber-bitch! OMG, that is priceless!!! I'll remember that one till the old grey cells disintegrate!
I think seeing other parts of the world via Substack and Instagram (that none of us may ever get to visit) is one of the finer benefits of the digital age. I'm glad you think the lagoon is a bit of alright. It certainly is by us.
I must admit, I am not the author of Cumber-bitch. I first heard it when Mr. C was an up and coming actor-- when women fans sprouted in 2010; he was a very appealing Sherlock.:)
Sherlock is still one of my all-time favourite most cleverly produced and acted series.
🤣
Good grief...Vita Sackville-West must be my kindred spirit! Her quote describes exactly how I feel as I'm growing older. I find myself withdrawing more from the world's bad news and finding happiness within my family and our own neck of the woods. We're not a vacation destination, so I don't have to deal with all of that!
I still enjoy learning (and experiencing, when possible) other places, people, and cultures. But, they must be of my own choosing, in my own timeframe. I'm becoming 'set in my ways' and perfectly content to be so.
Your stories about the beautiful island you call home are so enjoyable and as Ma Bell used to say: It's the next best thing to being there! As always, thank you for sharing.
I think we reach a stage where we know what is good for us in order to enjoy life in the kindest and best way. We have worked hard to get where we are and earning that knowledge hasn't been an easy road.
Here's to many more Substacks and sharing of lifestyles - I think we all glean things from each other. Thank you so much for your posts and for reading mine.
Your words and pictures, Prue, are beautiful and evocative. I love your expression 'I have not bent the river' in the context of 'go with the flow' - what a fabulous way to look at things!
I hadn't ever heard of 'solastalgia' - that's so interesting. I don't live in an area with a holiday-migratory population, but we are very mindful of the influx of people on lovely places at peak times of year. We're pretty flexible in when we can choose to go away - in fact, we've just come back from three days in Norfolk, which thanks to it being January (dark, cold UK winter) was beautifully uncrowded!
Rebecca, the problem with being a very leathery old mermaid is that the very coast and sea I crave are also craved by the masses in holiday time. To be honest, I need to get over it and make constructive plans for the seasonal invasion. It usually works.
Also a countdown. Only 3 and a half weeks left before the kids go back to school and crowds drain away like water down a plughole...
'Like water down a plughole' - I like it!
I remember our trips to the Hebridean island of Coll off the west coast of Scotland - there was much talk of the human 'summer swallows' who migrate there every summer and head back south once it gets (even) cold(er) again.
I think summer swallows sounds so kind and forgiving. Thus far, I've heard of the great unwashed, locusts and thrip. I'm sure there are many more colloquial terms.
And how lucky were you to get to the Hebrides!!!!!!
PS: Please not my exclamation marks!
Ah yes, the great unwashed! In some areas of the country the hordes of tourists are called 'grockles', which is a lovely word.
Yay for exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😉
Grockles! That's the one I love. I have a friend who lives on Hayling Island, UK and that's what she calls the summer hordes.
We, too, get uppity when the tourists arrive and we (well, mostly I) have to remind myself that the same reasons others come here is the reason we wanted to move here too. It's lovely, and people are more often then not very jolly when they are here. But I forget and get grumpy when the pavements are crowded and I have to dodge the people and their dogs and melting ice cream cones (all year-around!).
Separately, That BBC short snippet on introverts is really well done and clear. Reading Susan Cain's book Quiet revolutionised my world. There was finally a vocabulary for how I felt and moved through the world. There were benefits and strengths in being introverted! Who knew!?! I was able to recast little behaviours I had taught myself when I was at University to try to meet people into actual skills. I could understood them not only as useful comping mechanisms but also strengths. And particularly the need to manage how we spend and rebuild our energies, that it is different to extroverts. So, yes, I perfectly understand your need to be quiet and alone. ❤️
I must have a look at Susan Cain's book. The hardest part of isolating oneself to regird is that when one reintroduces oneself it's a bit of a battle. This is my first week back to the annual routine after our conjoined, self-imposed retreat since Christmas (not counting family interaction) and I find I'm pooped!
I agree with you about the reasons people may move somewhere, but what saddens me is that when they have built their monoliths and consumed the peace, they go on to transport greedy city values to what is in essence, mostly a very unsophisticated little township. I may have said this before, but when you ask someone politely to leash their dog because there are nesting birds or to pick up their dog poo and you are told that they are on holiday so their dog can be too, you give up, go home and seek out emptier spaces in which to relax.
Oh gosh Prue, that sounds just awful! How horrible that people act so entitled. I’d hide too! I’m in the middle of the low season and actually avoided the peak summer here last year so I’m pretty sure I’ll feel like you are now next August. Wishing you kind people and peace and quiet until they leave!
I’ll be looking for Susan Cain’s book too. So many kindred spirits here! 😊
That's been one of the most heartwarming things - to see how many of us there are.
wow! So many memories came to me as you shared the photos of the tractors‚ baling. I grew up on a dairy farm and did a lot of this work. It is sad to see all the farm land where I am being sold to home builders. The country is my home and yet I see it changing fast.
Thank you for this post Prue.
Hi Julie, thank you for commenting. My one hope is that the world will value food baskets - which is essentially what farms are. I may be naive.
Hi Prue, I hope the same. "Food baskets" what a beautiful way to think about farms. Thank you.
I'm grateful I have a little land to grow my own garden and build from there...a food basket. :)
NOTHING like homegrown food. I treasure our fruit and veggie garden.
That's the truth! The carrots and cucumbers were delicious for our first year!
I enjoyed this post so very much—finding so many topics where I thought, “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel!”
I had to laugh about the “locusts.” Over the summer months, our area is invaded by constant fleet of huge pickup trucks dragging house-sized camper trailers (I think you call them caravans), heading for the nearby lake and campground. But this time of year, it sure is wonderful to have our peaceful Foothills back.
And the introvert thing…oh, do I understand!
Loved your photos of your lucerne harvest—what a beautiful farm you have 😊 I hope you got your crop in before the rain.
Since I loved “Foster” by Claire Keegan, I will definitely get her new book on my To Be Read list! Thank you for all the great reading here!
Absolute pleasure, Susan and thank you so much for reading.
It's amazing how many of us across the world experience the same things - it's nice to share.
Prue, thanks for sharing this narration. The beetle stole the show for me. The color is so vibrant and true, I can almost see the sky on its body. Any travel plans this summer?
Our summer is a long way away in the southern hemisphere, Thalia, so too far to plan. But we rarely travel these days. We love our patch of coast.
Oh are you in Australia?