Roses are blooming in St Kilda

This beautiful old fashioned rose was giving pleasure to the passers-by in Fawkner Street, St Kilda. The roses are beautiful around Melbourne this year.

A touch of spring in mid-winter

Daffodiles are in the shops again. Not in my garden but it is lovely to see their bright blooms on the edge of the grey footpath on a grey day. It is very wintery here in Melbourne and now spring has come to my hallway.

Pink Blue Gum flowers

It is very wintery here in melbourne with misty days and grey skies. In the suburb where I am working these beautiful gum flowers break through the morning fog in a glorious pink burst.Mid winter would seem an unlikely time for them come into flower but it is wonderful that they do so. They are incredibly beautiful and such a contrast to the weather.

Other people’s clothes – should we wear them.

I was thinking about that as I cleared my wardrobe of some of my winter gear. I hate the way everything gets squashed up on the rail and I have to look through several times to find what I want. Winter clothes are so bulky.

I put away a beautiful pale beige rain coat. This is not my coat. Well, I guess it is now but it came from one of my dearest friends who died a couple of years ago.

She loved the coat. I have a letter she wrote after she bought it and she described her feelings as she strode down the Champs Ellysees in Paris on a winter morning dressed in the coat and some smart brown leather boots. Unfortunately the boots didn’t fit me. She visited France every year and as the years passed she learned to speak French fluently and to feel she passed as a Parisian. Her coat helped. It’s cut in the traditional trench coat style with an edge of darker coloured suede. She bought it France where style is upper most.

I wear it as often as the weather allows. It is longish, so on a wet days my skirts or pants stay dry but most importantly I wear it because it belonged to her. Sliding my arms into it and shrugging it on as I walk out the door reminds me of her and for a moment the essence of her is there, in my entrance way. It fades a little as I back the car out and head into the morning traffic but a small slither remains with me for a couple of hours.

Wearing a piece of clothing that belonged to a loved friend or a family member always charms me. I have a jumper my husband once owned that I still wear occasionally. I wore it sometimes when he was alive because I liked the colour but it fits me better now because I am a larger size.

The jumper has followed me around for years. I have forgotten about it and then found it tucked away in the back of a cupboard and moved it forward to wear again.

I know everyone doesn’t feel like this but I believe wearing something of a loved one who has died gives us a little bit of them back. We grab a small piece of them when we slip into it and the person seeps into the fore front of our mind. It keeps these loved and missed people in my life in a joyous way. There is nothing melancholy in this for me.

Recently a friend showed me a picture of herself at her sister’s memorial service looking stunning in a red dress.

“That was Eve’s favourite red dress,” she said. “I just had to wear it. It was as if she was there with me” I’m sure if Eve was looking down at the service she would’ve smiled. My friend still wears the dress sometimes and I’m sure she will never throw it away.

I put the fawn rain coat to front of my winter clothes. I may need it on a wet summer day. And as I write this I think of my friend and absorb again all the good things she gave to our friendship.




Lavender for love and this wonderful hanging basket shows how you can create beauty in our hot dry climate.

Adjusting to an aging parent

It is time I blogged again. It is a pleasure to write my thoughts and opinions. Thoughts and opinions that I can share and discuss in this world wide forum. Please add your thoughts if you feel like it.

I am back from giving support to my lovely frail mother. She managed to gather her energies, survive and ultimately return to her own home.

The return to the home she loves and wants to cling to has been enabled by the amazing and supportive service in the New Zealand Social Welfare Service. It is my belief that the care she gets in her home is better than she would get in an Old Peoples Home. This is known in New Zealand as going into ‘care’. Care in these places can be very limited.

She is frail and failing but can still struggle with the aid of a walker ( zimmer frame) or with both hands on a piece of furniture, to move about the four rooms of her house. Someone told me that that was called furniture surfing. Surfing suggests speed and dexterity and neither is part of my mother’s progress.

There are good things about her life. She can read the daily newspaper, make coffee or tea and a simple meal and mix a weak gin and tonic. The later giving a special and pleasing charm to the day’s end - a sundowner in the language of her generation.

Do we all wish to get so old and so frail? If we saw that as our future would we still scarf down green tea, fish oil, soy-milk, rush to the gym and push ourselves to eat meals we don’t love but feel righteous about consuming?

During my school years my mother rode her bike to and from work and in the school holidays, when she took time off work, we'd take a picnic and ride our bikes for miles and miles to explore local rivers and beaches. When I look at her now it is hard to see this crippled old lady as that vibrant, energetic young woman who brought lightness and humour to our home.

I am now in my home and perhaps I am taking on my mother’s younger self. I am back at work, going to the gym and walking whenever I can. I enjoy my physical ability more because I have been experiencing the way hers has diminished.

This picture is Apple Blossom on a corner of High Street in Armadale. It's an interesting shopping strip to window shop but somehow these blossoms, stunning as they are, seemed rather out of place in pricey and sophisticated Armadale. An exotic Magnolia would be more in keeping.

Nevertheless there is a magic about apple blossom - perhaps because it is so perfect and simple.

Would it be spring without daffodils?

Last year my garden opened up to spring. The bulbs flowered – daffodils and blue hyacinths. The ground glowed with them. This year it was different. The local possum feasted on young buds and the hot dry summer meant the bulbs didn’t get much water to begin their journey to spring.

To make up for the lack of spring in my garden the shops have been full of daffodils. J drew my attention to the buckets of them at one of the local shops. Since them with his help I have replenished the vase regularly.

As you can see they create beautiful shadows on my painted floor. The whole effect is magical. I am going to miss them when the season moves on.

The photo on the side bar of the daffs is from last year's display in front of my back-yard fountain. I am wondering if I lifted the bulbs, stored them, and then planted them again they would do better next year. I'll wait until the leaves dry off and give it a go.

Lavender Farm Daylesford

These photos should give you an idea of the relaxing and soothing day we had at the Lavender Harvest Festival.