Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Sunday 29 December 2013

Sunday Selections #152

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life.  The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River.

Like River, I generally run with a theme.  We have some cacti in a pots (rather a lot of cacti) on the front veranda.  The largest are prickly pillars which bite the unwary.  And are kept because every so often they flower spectacularly.  A flower which is bigger than my hand, scented, and lasts a day or two.


And this year, for the first time in more than ten years, we got not one flower, but two.  Embiggening will give you some of the stamens in their glory.







Saturday 28 December 2013

Best Reads 2013

I am joining John Wiswell from The Bathroom Monologues in a blog hop about our favourite reads of 2013.  Not necessarily published in 2013, just books we first read this year which for one reason or another we loved.

Regular visitors here will know that I read a lot.  And, as my side-bar will attest, I read quite a wide variety of things.  Some of the books I have read this year have been gems which will stay in my head and heart.  Others?  Suffice it to say they went to the recycle bin - that is, I gave them to Lifeline to sell to someone else.

I read for entertainment, to educate myself, for distraction, to escape and for comfort.  And there is probably a book for any occasion lurking somewhere in this house.  Which doesn't stop me succumbing to temptation and getting more.

I had difficulties in choosing books for this post.  And there were many more I could have included.

In no particular order some of my best reads for the year are listed below. ( Clicking on the photos will embiggen them, and give you more detail about the titles and authors.)


Biographies, memoirs and autobiographies are always on my go to list.

Jane Digby lived a complicated (to say the least) life.  She was born into an aristocratic family in 1807, and married at seventeen.  In the years between her marriage and her death in Damascus in 1881, she lurched from crisis to crisis.  All in the name of love.  Or lust, though I suspect she would always have said love.
She was divorced at a time when it was 'not done', eloped with an Austrian prince, had affairs with (among others) the King of Bavaria, a Corfiot count and an Albanian brigand.  At nearly fifty she married a Bedouin nobleman, and spent the rest of her life with him. 
Complicated, and not a life I could even contemplate.  I suspect she was always in ecstasy or despair.  Her choices would not (could not) have been mine, but she lived life to the full.  How she lived life to the full.  And the insights into a culture, time and place that are alien to me was fascinating.  The biography is largely drawn from her diaries (another passion of mine).



Elisabeth Baily contracted an illness which forced her to spend long periods of time bed ridden, and diminished her world dramatically.

She spent hours watching, listening to, and marvelling at a wild snail which had been brought into her bedroom with some violets in a flower plot.

Initially she could see no purpose to bring the snail in, and she had no interest in it either.  Little by little, watching the snail, she became engrossed in it, and her interest expanded her own world. ' Time unused and only endured still vanishes, as if time itself is starving, and each day is swallowed whole, leaving no crumbs, no memory, no trace at all.'  If asked, I would say that I don't read from the 'self-help genre, but this book tells me I am wrong.  I find inspiration and assistance in so much of my reading.


This book encapsulates resilience, and a fascination with the natural world, which struck a chord with me.   The prose is polished, simple and elegant.  Like the snail...



From the sublime to the ridiculous.  Rupert Bear was a part of my early childhood.  He is an enchanting, quintessentially English Bear - I suspect his village is in the Cotswolds.  He, and the other inhabitants of Nutwood have improbable adventures - and a heap of fun.  Rupert Bear, Bill Badger, Ottoline Otter and more.

The smaller portion picked up not only this, but several other Rupert Bear annuals and I devoured them all.  A meander down a memory lane in pleasant countryside.


A children's book.  One I am sorry I didn't discover as a child.

Barnaby Brocket's family make a virtue out of respectability.  And take it to boring extremes.  And are proud to do so.

When their first child is born to their horror and shame gravity has no effect on him.  None.  He was not normal - in a family which exalted normalacy beyond anything else.  They struggled to not only cope (after a fashion) but to conceal the abberation from everyone else.  And had two more 'normal' children.

Mrs Brocket decided enough was enough - and took action to rid the family of its problem child.  To permanently rid the family of its problem child.  Roald Dahl would have loved this book.



I was introduced to Ben Aaronovitch by librarygirl, last year or the year before and am very, very grateful.  Murder, mythology, mystery, mayhem and magic.  All of which I have major weaknesses for.  The plots are original, and the characters varied.   
A blurb describes them as 'the perfect blend of CSI and Harry Potter' which is a serious underestimate of their charm.  There are now four books in the series, I have them all, and will assuredly purchase the next.  One of the series major strengths is that the characters develop in consistent and entirely feasible directions.  And are, on the whole,  neither entirely black nor entirely white. 


Another children's book.

In this slim book (less than 150 pages) we follow Jack, an eight year old boy, as his teacher Miss Stretchberry continues to introduce him to the delights of poetry - reading it and writing it.

With Jack, we learn about alliteration, onomatopoeia and we practise with him too.  We are exposed to poetry by Edgar Allen Poe, and T.S Eliot among others and see the poems that they inspire Jack to write.  I came to dislike Uncle Bill who insists that poetry has to rhyme.  And we discover that Jack's mother is deaf, and sit in awe while Jack reads her a poem he has written, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the poem.
'She drew a circle with her finger
which means again
so I read it over, tapping.
and then she put her hand up:
Stop
and I watched while she tapped
the same rhythm'
 Which made me weep.

I have reread it twice, and will read it again.  Deceptively simple, and rich in not only the joy of language but in the magic of relationships.  Every child should have a Miss Stretchberry in their life.



An alcohol-fuelled car crash left John Callahan a partial quadriplegic.  He is now a recovering alcoholic who writes/pens/draws cartoons which make the blackest night seem bright.  I don't think there is any subject which he would consider 'off limits'.  One cartoon which I particularly enjoy shows a man begging, with a sign around his neck saying 'Please help.  I am black, blind and not musical.'
It would be charitable to describe his sense of humour as sick.  And I often find his cartoons very funny and laugh - wincing.  And I don't need to be disturbed any further...


And the last addition was a Christmas gift.  Which I knew would be one of my best reads as it emerged from its Christmas wrapping.  It has been out of print for over 40 years, and was translated into English and released again this year.

Tove Jansson's Moomintroll series are books I reread each year.  And, (cue happy dances) the very first Moomin book she wrote 'The Moomins and the Great Flood' has apparently been published in English for the first time.  I will hunt it down.  Her children's books can be read with an adult's philosophical eye - or simply enjoyed.  She started writing novels for adults in her fifties - and I understand that more of them will be translated and released in English soon.  Bliss.

Sculptor's Daugher is a series of stories which capture Tove Jansson's Helsinki childhood - with some fictional elements.  The memoir you have when you are not having a memoir.   

It is subtle, powerful and beautiful.  As I expected.

Sunday 22 December 2013

Sunday Selections #151

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life.  The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River.

Like River, I generally run with a theme.

It has been hot, hot and miserable this week.  Where possible I have skulked inside only coming out early, or late.  For a change (not) I am featuring a bird (a cockatoo) and a sunset.  And some Christmas stars.  Clicking will, as always, embiggen.






Sunday 15 December 2013

Sunday Selections #150

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life.  The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River.

Like River, I generally run with a theme.   As you know, I love birds.  This week has been hot, and most of the birds come in briefly at first light, and again at dusk.

This corella was an exception.  (Click to embiggen.)  He came in around ten one morning and spent quite a while sitting on the feeder in the shade.



The cockatoos on the other hand, deserted us.  They went next door and had a wonderful time ripping unripe fruit from his trees, taking two or three bites, dropping the fruit and moving to the next one.




And our Japanese silk tree is in flower.  More flowers than we have had for a number of years.  Such dainty blooms.



Wednesday 11 December 2013

Comfort Reading

Recently I finished a book which made my heart hurt, my eyes leak and filled me with ballistic rage.



I knew it would do all of those things.  The book was written by two mothers whose husbands killed their children and made abortive (and half-hearted) suicide attempts.

So why did I read it?  No, I am not addicted to misery memoirs though I have read a number of them.  Domestic violence calls, be it physical, sexual, emotional or financial abuse, are among those which I find hardest on the crisis lines.  Not least because ordinarily the cycle seems to be stuck on repeat.

So, I read this book to learn more about why people stay, and about what responses might be helpful (or not).  Nothing new came out of it, but it was still an education.

When I finished I needed to go somewhere more pleasant in my head.

So I picked up a book I have read many times before, and will almost certainly read again.


It is a children's book - and a delight.
The heroine is a princess.  She is neither golden-haired nor conventional.  Rebelling against etiquette lessons, she learns fencing.  When she is told that this is not 'proper behaviour' and her fencing lessons are stopped, she takes up cooking.  Then magic, Latin and economics.

Despairing, her family decide to marry her off to a neighbouring prince.  Eligible, but not very bright.  Needless to say this doesn't suit our princess either.

So she runs away from home and volunteers to become a Dragon's princess.  Unconventional again.  Princesses are captured - they don't volunteer.

Her adventures and her ingenuity in facing challenges is a whole lot of fun.  And I have a weakness for dragons anyway.

Do you read for comfort?  And, if so, what sort of books do you turn to? 

Sunday 8 December 2013

Sunday Selections #149

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life.  The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River.

Like River, I generally run with a theme.  Just for a change, I am back in the garden.


My roses haven't done very well this year.  Small blooms and not many of them.  This David Austin rose (William Shakespeare) has been the exception which proves the rule though.  Gorgeous scent and quite a few blooms.


I love this poppy and carefully save its seeds each year.


The lilies are just starting to flower, and for those that like it, and can cope with it, their heady perfume is everywhere.



We picked up these daisies at the market last weekend.  Hopefully they will go in the ground later today.


Most of the lilies that have come out are this colour - which is fine.

And, while I am being completely consistent I am going to finish with moody sunset photos.





Tuesday 3 December 2013

Surgeon's Playground

We went to see the smaller portion's surgeon on Friday.  After examining the skinny one he commented that his belly was 'a surgeon's playground'.  True - and I wish someone had told them to play nicely.

After six abdominal surgeries it is strongly reminiscent of Frankenstein's Monster.  And there will be another operation in the New Year.  Hopefully the last but no guarantees.  Sigh.

The smaller portion drove off to visit a friend a little while ago.  The friend lives more than 600 kilometres away so he will be gone for a couple of days.  Is he well enough?  I don't know, but he is an adult and it isn't my decision.

And I am going to revel in being home alone.  I am tired to the bone and beyond, my pain levels are high and bits of me are non-functional.  There is cleaning, weeding, shopping and baking to do - and they aren't going to happen.  And will still be there when I surface again.  

I have a commitment to Lifeline and another to the Multiple Sclerosis Peer Support Program which I will honour - and everything else can go hang.

Give us this day our daily whinge.

Sunday 1 December 2013

Sunday Selections #148

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. 

The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life.  The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River.

Like River, I generally run with a theme.   On a post a little while ago Snowbrush commented that I appear to prefer flowers to foliage.  I thought about it, and he is both right and wrong.  I love them both, and tend to put up pictures of blooms rather than leaves.

I adore the different shapes, colours and textures of leaves - so this is where I am going this week.