This wonderful town, only 120kms from Prague is a fairy tale destination.
Why are the streets empty, you may well ask, because it was 37 degrees C!
summer
Chateau gardens
For all you gardeners and historians – Hluboka nad Vlatovou (Hluboka Chateau on the Vltava River) – grand gardens filled with hostas, roses, peonies and zinnias. So opulent and wonderful.
Some summer inspiration for you. Happy botanics and happy gardening. Love this sunshine.
Escape
A very hot weekend so we have escaped to the seaside. An early morning walk and one seagull to keep us company.
We are mindful that some areas on the other side of Melbourne are impacted by bushfires.
Tomorrow will be another hot one.
I thought I saw a puddy tat – or was it a mouse?
We are experiencing a heat wave, not unusual for this part of the world in January. However, during this time some strange things are happening. Apart from our broody Plymouth Rock chook who has nestled down to nurture her potential chicks – it always amazes me that hens can exist almost trance-like for twenty- one days.
We placed a small bowl of water near her just in case she got thirsty. She’s in a cool house.
The other chickens and Long John Silver, the feisty rooster, are searching for a cool place too.
However, the strangest occurrence today happened this morning. Our oldest companion cat, Sarge, yes, he is quite a bossy cat, had to go to the Vet. After the consultation, I began to rummage through my handbag for a pen to write some instructions, I wondered what the furry thing was in my bag. Then it hit me, it was a little brown mouse. Shocked, I quickly closed the opening and declared to the vet and Colin, “There’s a mouse in my bag”! They both looked at me suspiciously.
Convinced, I wasn’t deranged, the vet took my handbag and after a few minutes returned with this
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He’s a carnivorous native mouse – Dasyurid Antechinus, a relative of the Tasmanian Devil – as the vet excitedly told us, as he pulled out a text book photo. We packed him in a little box and returned this little marsupial to the bushland on the Mount. I wondered why our little white cat, this morning was digging in my handbag. Poor mouse, just wanted to stay out of the heat. A tip, keep your handbags off the floor in summer!
Keep cool everyone,
I guess ratty has the last laugh! LOL
A Classic Christmas
This time last year I was busy baking in my kitchen. I tried my hand at ginger bread cookies. Having purchased some delightful cookie cutters from an American on-line store called House on the Hill and they included a lovely recipe. Apart from the usual star shapes, I bought a cabin in the woods mould and an acorn. I guess I have a romantic notion of a cold Christmas surrounded by warm hearths and warm glows. I guess a cold climate is more conducive to trying your hand at specialty baking and crafts.
This year we are in Brisbane with family here. I have to say, give me a cold Christmas any time. The temperatures during the day have been a constant 32 degrees C with humidity and blazing sunshine. All great, when you’re by the sea, but not so great in a city, or in a weatherboard cottage. Too hot to bake, too hot to eat really. So I guess we head for the air conditioned shopping – but away from the “madding crowd”. Instead our usual vintage haunts never fail to lure us.
One advantage of being here is that we don’t have to drive very far and often we can walk to these vintage and craft sellers. Wonders can be found.
I love these vintage buttons from my favourite little shop – Travels with my Aunt named after a film of the same name. Check out my blog entitled Travelling North, 9 July, 2013
So whether you are enjoying a hot traditional Christmas dinner or a cold seafood lunch, whether you are with family or friends or on your own, in a cold climate or a hot one – what classic or traditional elements will you include in your day?
(Ours will be Spumante, Panettone and plum pudding!)
Peony passion
Like a perfect summer’s day,
the peony lasts momentarily.
Its splendour remains
as one of nature’s treasures.
The golden dogwood
The golden dogwood,
heralding summer.
So Envious!
You all know my passion for gardens – any gardens, any where. So when a friend and in-law Margaret invited me to see her Community Garden project I was intrigued. The first time I saw the garden was last November in the pouring rain. More recently, it was brilliant sunshine and a respectable 30 degrees C.
A Community Garden is indeed a suitable launching place for many great ideas. Each resident gardener pays a nominal fee to tend their plot. The restrictions are simple: no large trees, no weeds, and no pilfering! Otherwise, the horticultural creativity is set free to produce wondrous vegetables, fruits and herbs. In addition, community interaction is guaranteed.
Why am I envious? It is envy of the admirable kind – for plants that we cannot grow here in the Mount. Giant golden vegetables, black, shiny grapes, fragrant basil and sun trapped red tomatoes.
Check out this man’s giant climbing zucchini!
Tall sunflowers and harvested corn.
Therefore, last weekend when we visited again, it was for the launch of Margaret’s historical book which tracks the history of the garden suburb where she lives. The estate was designed by Walter Burley Griffin, Canberra’s famous town planner. The book also chronicles the history of the indigenous people of the area; the discovery of gold in the 1850’s; the first families who purchased land in the estate complete with general specifications of a typical 1950’s home; through to the time when “the frontier spirit [had] dissipated as we moved into the seventies” (p85).
The Community Garden stands on “an internal reserve … designed in the late 1920’s” (which for a long stretch of time was a forgotten and derelict triangle of land). It now provides a sustainable and renewable facility. It is though, much more than a commodity, it is a safe, productive haven for the Tuppal Reserve gardeners and their families. Indeed it is a most enviable achievement – full of delight, determination and distinction.
Do you belong to a community garden?
Sydney’s Inner West
A 7:30am flight and in less than 100 minutes, I am in Sydney with Daughter Number Two for the weekend. Luckily, I packed my pink umbrella as the heavens unleashed a torrent as the plane taxied in. A short drive and we find ourselves in Sydney’s Inner West, only five kilometres from the busy city heart. Today’s humid, wet and slippery conditions did not dampen this precincts eclectic mix of fashion, novelty craft stores, tree lined streets, turn of the century cottages and alternative cafes and restaurants.
Now here’s a question for you. Do you like buttons? If you are like us we are intrigued by their shapes, colours and applications. You would love this establishment!
Dusty, Little Dog Number Three sat quietly out of the rain. Well actually here he is at his owners’ photographic, dark room and studio. This is their second studio and was once the Department of Civil Engineering building. It’s a great space for their photographic workshops and studio.
Returning to Newtown in the evening, we ate dinner at a nifty Japanese restaurant where we ordered our meals on an I-pad!
Hopefully the rain will ease tomorrow – good night – see you in the morning.
The Rains Came
After ten weeks of no rain, suddenly the heavens opened up and we received a welcome downpour. Summer here on the mountain can be a mixed blessing. Most of the the time we indulge in sheltered, lush greenery, going about our business of watering, potting, raking or contemplating! However, when the north winds blow, dry our soil and scatter bark and branches about and the risk of grass or bush fires permeate our waking, and sometimes, sleeping thoughts, that’s when we become obsessed by the CFA (Country Fire Authority) website. Their current APP tells us how far the nearest fire is to our property. As a matter of course, we then have the cat boxes and chicken cages at the ready should we need to leave on a total fire ban day. Such is life on the Mount – a balancing act of mind over nature!
Therefore, you can easily gauge our relief when the rains eventually come. No, not like the monsoonal rains in the 1939 film with Myrna Loy and Tyrone Power – The Rains Came nor the other flooding and earth quaking 1955 The Rains of Ranchipur with Lana Turner and Richard Burton, but the soaking, refreshing and cooling rains which hopefully snuff out any lingering or smouldering embers. Both these films, you might know, are versions of Louis Bromfield’s novel set in India. As we live up here surrounded by trees we are the envy of Melburnian’s who often have to swelter while we enjoy a cooler five degrees. Further up the mountain, grand residences such as Darjeeling and Tieve Tara conjure up a romantic past as we experience what is known as a late summer or Indian Summer.
Summer here is the least colourful of the seasons. There are few flowering plants in our garden right now. The obligatory blue agapanthus, the well-watered hydrangeas, many pots, some begonias, a few geraniums and silent hellebores are amongst the limited colours.
Then, when least expected, a great spiny arch entangled in the camellias or rhododendrons looks you in the face. You recoil only to be greeted with tiny deep purple orbs. Your hand reaches toward the irresistible cluster.
The scratches and the curses of the previous encounters with this enemy are forgotten – one of the little joys of summer – blackberries! They live for another day – but only just!
Meanwhile, we wait and pray for a little more rain, please. I might have to watch these films again! What’s it like in your part of the world right now?
crabandfish garden 