Today...

... for Knots in the String.

(Actually Wednesday just passed. Do you mind?)

When you wake on Saturday, Husband and self hope to be walking along the far south coast of Tasmania. At our accommodation, we’ll be out of internet range for two days hence the early post. More on the weather-pending hike next week – wish us luck!

In the meantime…

Tuesday night I sleep badly and wake with the idea that whilst I’m tired, I must still make the most of the day. My close friend, Panchita, taught me that in a roundabout way. She said once, that we all need to have at least one good thing in any day that is just for us.

For me, it’s more that I want to make sure there’s one thing in the day where contentment is a given. And so it is today, as the hours progress.

I go to the leather shop to buy distressed black leather for my bookcover-graphic designer daughter. I sit in front of the remnant bins and plunge my hands into offcuts. The finest leathers are like cream against my skin – pliant, fragrant, so very soft. She believes she needs obvious grain, holes, frayed edges, texture that could be manipulated – everything implying duress and angst. I find three imperfect pieces that are perfect – I hope she agrees.

Then to Calvary Hospital for a medical appointment – ‘nuff said.

Onward to #AStitchinTime, to purchase different shades of red thread for daughter to potentially use in the cover design. The new novel is called The Red Thread after all.

A visit to the thread shop is an entrée to Aladdin’s cave. With all the different thread companies in the world, you can imagine how many reds I had to choose from – from ruby through blood to garnet and every sanguine shade in between. I run my fingers over silks and silk/cottons, silk/linens. Even over wools. All are soft but some, like the silks, have a lustre and texture that is beyond compare. I come home with three types for my daughter to test.

But whilst in the shop, I luxuriate in fine Gumnut Daisies wools, feeling them in my hands, under my fingers, watching the light melt into the thread. Of course, I desperately need at least three shades for the #BrendaKinsel clutch bag. The day is looking better despite my roadmap eyes.

The most important piece of the day is my walk with the Terrier. The Terrier and I listen to the waves driven from the Southern Ocean breaking kindly on the rocks, the sun warms us and whatever breeze is thinking of ruffling the water doesn’t eventuate. The most perfect chorus of magpies sings to us, and one shows us his most exciting find of the day – a knotted brown clump. Perhaps it’s dog hair, shredded sacking or a fine root ball. Is the bird just playing or is it stocking up nesting material for an early spring? Whatever the case, the choir continues its serenade.

The Terrier and I walk and I let thoughts come and go like clouds, attaching to none of them. I see a beautiful black Aeonium in a garden. I would love a cutting. I pass the community garden and salivate at the fine winter veg and decided to make a Winter Salad with walnuts for dinner this evening.

And then I come back to the Matchbox and write this while the Terrier makes music with his toys.

So here we are – me noting down what matters in the scheme of today. Nothing beyond pleasant moments that are appreciated.

My Time:

*I made a cake from Sally Frawley’s newsletter.

Mandarin, Raspberry & Olive Oil Loaf

It has all the wistful fragrance of times when we would all sit in our kitchens with friends and family and talk. So so back in the day! Now it’s all coffee shops and busy, busy, busy. It’s a beautiful cake and the tang and aroma reminds me of Lindsay Cameron Wilson’s orange cake

The Cake that Tastes like Sunshine

This one was good enough to serve to my husband for his 71^st birthday. A ray of sunshine at its very best.

I’m not a foodie and I most often err on the side of tried and true chocolate flavoured cooking from Mum’s old recipe book. For the rest I follow my River Cottage Veg Book, but Sally and Lindsay have keyed into memories of times past and to cook their food (and read their evocative wordage) is simple joy with flavour. I suspect I need to make Sally’s cake when Gavan and David visit us. Gavan is a fine cake chef and I think he might love both these recipes.

*I attended ballet class despite the usual injuries. Class is exciting as we learn choreo for the Spanish Dance from Swan Lake. We’re a group of sexy, smouldering septuagenarians (with a few a bit younger than that!), stamping and clapping, swishing skirts and side-eyeing any available matador (not many in our age group!).

*Reading:

Nearly finished Gyles Brandeth’s wonderful memoir of Queen Elizabeth.

Substacks see above - Sally and Lindsay.

Also:

Tom Ryan as always, is matchless.  

And Waterproof inspires me to make that time to winter-swim weekly. The feeling is indescribable…

On a more academic level, I’ve been translating and then scouring French documents about L’Ile Barbe in Lyon, for the 12th century hist.fict I am writing. I don’t speak fluent French and have only my school knowledge from a lifetime ago, so it’s been quite a journey.

*Listening:

I am stretching out the Doherty/Turney collaboration Gods of Rome. Simply, I don’t want it to end…

*Watching:

Insight on SBS on Living Longer. It comes down to elemental things – exercise, socialising with kindred spirits and keeping the mind active. But the most powerful were those enunciated by the terminally-ill guest and his wife – being content, living in the moment, loving. I see a soft aura around those three conclusions…

Hiking in New Zealand’s South Island. Beautifully shot, softly ambient music, little commentary. Very peaceful.

And so today slides inevitably to an end. The sky darkens (albeit lighter than it was last week), the wood pigeons and blackbirds are singing the dusk closer.

I have loved the good things about today and ignored the rest.

It’s naïve to think every day can be peaceful but it’s surely good to look for it. No?

Song today?