Lovely Cape Woolamai, Down Phillip Island

We went to Cape Woolamai yesterday. Coughing and coughing but all the better for a long walk in the gorgeous winter warmth. It was truly a lovely thing, and ridiculous that we hadn't been up around the cape before.

I always think of my friend Marion. We hitched down here a few times in our teens. The big surfie thing was happening. We spent one weekend sunbaking with the crew, but found it ultimately boring and went back to our exploratory ways soon enough. Came back to Melbourne so brown I wasn't recognised. Marion and I slept in my car there too, in a remember when weekend in our 40's. So funny, me dragging Marion along. "Come On Marion, Let's Just Go Up There And Have A Look!"

 

 The One True in his fishing bling, with all that glory behind him. Actually, that farthest point is where the photo below is taken from.

 

 Interesting how the lava bubbles are so colourful. Teal and tan. Pretty scheme for making things.

 

 From the first point on the walk around the point. I've never been up there before. It's a speccy beach. Dangerous, amazing.

 

 Pink granite rock. There's an old quarry on the other side of the point.

 

 Winter light. Not bad huh? Nice place to be on a sunny winter's day.

 

Home Again, Home Again, Lickety Spit

Versailles

Well, that flew by, as you know it will. But still my mind is filled with the experience! What fun, and what a lot of walking I did.

I didn't climb the Eiffel Tower/Notre Dame/The Arch of Triumph, however I did ride a bicycle around the whole of Versailles and picnic on the lakeside, walk the entirely of everywhere, go to the Louvre a couple of times, take the river boats a few times, walk, walk, haggle at markets (oh, excuse me, marche's), see the sunset (almost) at Sacre Coeur. Did find a million Place of Interest, dring coffee and eat crepes. And I went into Notre Dame and walked saround the other places I didn't climb. And OH! The Lady and the Unicorn Tapestry's! And all of the other tapestry's.

I saw the Bayeux Tapestry at Bayeux in Normandy (above). It happened to be June 6th too, D-Day, and soldiers from the 1st world war were walking (hobbling) around. The people there were lovely and so welcoming. It was the most beautiful town in the world as I know it. It was the first time I really had a sense of how horrendous the war must have been for France. Bayeux was not bombed but nearby Caen was, which I read about in a book I bought for Dad.

I went to see Mme Riviere and got so teary I had force myself to stop crying! Blubberer! She's so beautiful and the place is amazing. Of course. I couldn't believe where I was. But the wonder of it all and the 'coming down off cortosone' and the jet-lag and not having my One True Love there to share the joy overwhelmed me.
So much more to say but it's birthday time for Anna and I must away!
xxx

Countdown To My Big Trip!

2 more sleeps. I woke up ridiculously early today, remembering or thinking of things I needed to include. My Duck Doiley's to crochet the edges of. Note to self: cut and Fray Stop the edges before I go.

The little tapestry I have ready to do is another version of Mme Riviere, by Ingris. But in Pop brightness and for fun. Maybe to make a bag or something? And easy to see (and work on) in the low light of the plane. It's hard to decide. Or, do I wait and make a very fine petit point on silk with silk... but not of a cropped Mademoiselle, whole? To frame? I may tire of the image if I do it three times... or not? The painting is at the L:ouvre too, I just have noticed!

And because my black glass beads broke, I pulled out my necklace making gear and ended up (finishing) knotting my expensive garnet-coloured, interestingly cut Swarzkovski (?) crystals, and my great grandmother's pearls. To take. To Paris.

Off To Paris In Three Weeks!

For just eight nights, but Whoo Hoo! I'm excited!

I have to say that the woman who bought my crazy quilt has bought my tickets and we will visit loads of textiley things, includiong the Bayeux Tapestry and the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries etc.

Any 'must do's', please email me.

I've been busy making clothes to wear and yes, I'll post some pics. Troublwe is, at the mo, when I get home it's dark. Same as when I leave for work...

Speaking of work, I'd better dash.

x

P.S. 11 hours in London too. Ideas....?

Secret Cave Near The Glenelg River

What an amazing place! So Aussie. Limestone cliffs and real caves with smoke stained walls after thousands of years of habitation.

We put an end to that though. Only took 200 years. Such recent memory and evidence in the countryside, it's a crying shame. Love Australiabut. You sure feel the beauty creeping in and touching all the corners after a week in the great outdoors.

Ross's Great-Great-Great Grandfather Built These

Carved by er, ah, um... forgotten his name for now but I'll find out.

Right now... Don McNaughton's (left) great grandfather and Ross's great-great grandfather were brothers. Peter and James respectively. They may have helped their father James to build this cottage (below), where they all lived. These distant cousins still manage to look alike. The same facial creases, Ross's disguised by hair. The same cute, shy little expressions. The same hands.

Below:
Bank, fence and stables at Portland, built by James McNaughton Snr.

My Contribution

Made with reeds from Lake Booraboora in the Grampians.

When you walk up from the carpark, you're confronted with the most amazing mountain range. It's astounding. And no other people! We spent the day paddling and drifting and it was 100% peaceful. I sat at the edge of a reed bed and tried out my new knowlege of multi-reed plaiting. Our only problem was jumping jacks, who each wanted to kill us and drag us back to their nest. Aggressive little buggers! They lost and we didn't get bitten.

The Ute, Or, Braveheart.

Which replaces The Van of old. A saga which continues, which grows in importance and dedication. For which nothing, nothing is too good. The obsessive focus, I am told, once finished here, will be transferred to renovating our home.

It's good to have a hobby. It's good to have a reason not to go away for the weekend... like... how could we possible go camping when the curtains for The Ute are not finished? Nor the cushions for The Ute not covered? It's inconcievable that this LONG WEEKEND should be enjoyed away without decorative completion.

So what have we done? You might wonder. We've procrastinated and watched a dozen or more episodes of Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm. But.. now... just as soon as I've finished here, I'm getting into the cushions.

P.S. I know what to give my love for a special pressie. A papier mache elks head (bust) for above the shelf. Ala Rachel Denny.

The New VAN

...Is in fact, the back of the ute. The boy has a penchance for boxes and will, with any excuse and for varying (otherwise unheard of) situations, make them with gusto and precision. I laugh affectionately. I have made calico (fitted) sheets and pillowcases (lovely!) and we took enough for a week and spent two days and one night at Point Kirk, mostly alone. We slept gazing out the back of the Ute looking at the sea and twinkling lights across the bay.

My crippling, worrying backache has all but vanished, due to extensive kayaking and a good, old-fashioned (reasonably) hard bed.

This is another spot we found on Google Earth! I can't get over the amazingness of that! And it's the shelliest beach I've ever seen in my whole life, with thousands of sea-urching shells... truly thousands. The little bubbsie waves go shhh shhh as they push tiny, tiny shells up and down against the shale.

I caught the flathead. Note the knife at the side (ie. a reference for size).