‘…a brief evocative description, account, or episode.’
I was glancing through Australian Country Style while I had a cup of tea and a piece of biscuit cake (oh the deliciousness!). Along with their printed pieces in the mag, they feature beautiful images of people’s homes, lives, businesses and all are in the style of cameos, mood-makers. Of vignettes that tell a story.
And as always, because I’m not a good photographer or stylist, I was in awe of how good fallen petals can look, or a vase of olive branches, or an open book on a table. Often there are moody filters which soften and blur and I think to myself how wonderful it all seems and how clever all these home owners and niche business people are.
I finished my cup of camomile tea, noticed there was not a single crumb of my slice of biscuit cake left on the chopping board and continued to listen to the last of Lady in Waiting by Anne Glenconner (more about that later!) as I cleaned the house - vacuuming, dusting with the subtle natural spray that makes the house smell like linen dried in the sun, washing the polished floor boards.
On a whim, I went out to the lemon tree, picked some lemons and a branch of same, some olive twigs and found a jug in the cupboard and ‘arranged’ the pickings.
I looked around the little cottage and thought there were vignettes everywhere, things that mattered to me and told stories of family, of my life and theirs. So I took out the unfashionable i-phone 5SE and began snapping, finding stories to tell because what am I, if not a writer - an author on the constant lookout for inspiration…
When we bought this house, the original owner made the condition walk-in, walk-out and left us a collection of Cornishware which I’ve divided over townhouse and cottage. For me, Cornishware is all that I love of coast, blue skies, sea and shore. And there isn’t a day goes past when I don’t think of dear Mrs. Roberts.
My mother gave me money for my birthday one year and as the cottage is rustic and relaxed, I decided I would buy this table lamp. The base was made by an old man who crafted it from a wooden telegraph pole somewhere in South Australia. I can see lines of the poles marching up some dusty red country road heading toward the Flinders Ranges. And every time I switch it on, I’m reminded of Mum.
The old picture is an image of the first motor yacht my grandfather had, ‘Wanderer I’, moored in the Prosser River in the very early 1930’s. ‘Wanderer II’ was to become the yacht beloved by all we grandkids through our lives. (See newsletter on The Millington House.) The badge is his (Motor Yacht Club of Tasmania) and would have been screwed to part of the boat.
The dishes are a product of my love of small things of great beauty. Whenever I’m on the beach, I make a practice of picking up little things from amongst the seawrack. It is very much a reflection of me - I am at heart a beach bum…
A collection of special pieces by artists I admire. My little boat - the Ship of Wanderers - is by the Tasmanian artist, Margaret Vandenberg. The print is from an artists’ collective in Triabunna which is just up the coast from me. The crafted box was created and filled with two artist’s books by an artist from my own family - my daughter.
The box and its contents are special and she created three. One for each person (me being one) who fought in court to protect our little river beach from developers. The river has an enormous amount of history and it was that we wanted to preserve, but in a long drawn out case, it came down to the riverbank being lined with a threatened species of estuarine weed, thereby preventing any future development. I was so proud of my mother at the court proceedings. In her 80’s at the time, she spoke with immense feeling to the judicial board. Being an introvert, it wasn’t easy for her, but what an amazing woman she was!
My daughter did the artwork, built and bound the books in leather and devised perfect contents and covers for each of the books and the box that held them. Three unique pieces from a talented book artist. We are more than fortunate.
A watercolour by my daughter of my favourite place in the world. With afternoon sunlight slanting across the wall of the little sunroom. The story created by this cameo reminds me of the contemporary fiction I wrote called Passage, which was one woman’s journey through the grief of losing her husband. Maria Island was instrumental in her ‘passage’.
A journey through art again. The watercolour by my gifted and most favourite uncle whom we in this family loved. We are fortunate to have all the artwork he ever painted at Orford. We loved his work and he kindly gifted it to us. I used to love chatting with him about art, about colour and about painting. The paintings are wonderful reminders of a talented but very misunderstood man.
The seagull was made by a Bruny Island ceramicist and tells the story of a few days we spent in the middle of winter on the island - it was in the times before people became aware of the destruction of the beautiful D’Entrecasteux Channel waters by the massive salmon farming companies. We know better now and it’s worth reading two books. Toxic by Richard Flanagan, tells it like it is - a complete expose of an industry that’s rotten to the core. And Bruny by Heather Rose - a frightening fiction of what can happen when big business takes over politics in a small place like Tasmania.
Two convict-made bricks found when I was a child and fossicking along the old convict track. No one has ever seen fit to heritage-list that historic road that snakes along the opposite shore of the Prosser, leading to Sorell. So much history and it’s unrecognised.
The vase of blue and white china fragments are pieces found at China Beach and on our farm, ‘Camden’. They tell stories of hard-working housewives, cooks and kitchen maids who would have hands chafed by cold water, blistered by carting wood to keep the stoves going. Of aching legs, heavy with lumpen ropes of veins from standing all day - preserving, serving meals to farmers, farm workers, shearers, bankers, itinerate merchants. Any wonder that plates and bowls were dropped, broken, swept up and and either buried at sea from the rubbish barges in the 19th century, or dug into pits around the farm when refuse was removed from the house. For me, it’s basic archeology and I love thinking about the hands that might have held the china. How old were they, what did they do, what did they cook?
So you see, vignettes, whether artful of otherwise, have the capacity to tell so much, even with just a quick view.
One day, I’d like to do a photography course for i-phones and learn framing and filters, so that I can tell even more of a story - make images even more emotive. But that’s for another time. Another 12th century novel to finish writing first.
Bookshelves:
Lady in Waiting by Anne Glenconner on audio, finished today. What an astonishing woman! Initially uninspired by her early days, I really grew to admire her strength, her no-nonsense philosophical approach to life through difficult experiences, to say the least. Do we call it the British stiff upper lip? Whatever the case, this woman who read her own narrative for audio at the age of 86 and who told us she plans to live to 100 - she is a lesson in not dropping one’s bundle. Rather like my own mother, and in addition, Lady Anne loves swimming and was still ocean swimming at the point of narration. One of my mob!
On Kindle I’m still reading The Bombay Prince - see previous newsletter. Still enjoying it.
Also on Kindle, I’m reading Buddhism for Busy People by David Michie, which Michie advises is a simple entree into the world of Tibetan Buddhism (which is my interest). He’s right - beautifully simple and illustrative. This may become my formative text before I read some of the original writings from Tibetan Buddhist luminaries through the centuries.
Watching:
The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee Pageant. I have been a horse-lover forever and a horse-owner three times, so I appreciate the Queen’s sentiment.
Australia Votes 2022. Hurrah - we can move forward without rightwing politics.
Boredom Busters:
The usual. Walking with the dog, gardening, cooking and stitching.
And a line here and there for the Work in Progress - Oak Gall and Gold - Book Two of The Peregrinus Series. With that in mind, it’s time to send this missive to any subscribers, to thank you for reading this far, (please share it with whomever and encourage them to subscribe) and to bid you adieu.
Until next time…
Loving all of you bits and pieces, especially love the lamp. So many treasures, so many memories for you. so well written, thanks for sharing.