The healing room

Sinéad sings of a healing room inside me, but my kitchen is a damn fine healing room itself.
Honey-coloured timber
funny, hanging, oven in the centre
a handful of nooks for note pads, ipod, fruit bowls, tea tins,
a view of trees and water.
I even like that I can't see the kids in the backyard. I can hear them (o yes, there's a problem if I can't hear them), and they certainly fly, skid, wrestle, whine, sneak their way through the kitchen often enough. But my view is one of trees and water. On the day that the photos below were taken, it was raining outside, grey and misty, but warm and dry inside my kitchen. Ma Rainey was playing on my ipod (how very appropriate!).

Here's a peak at the view from the heart of my home. There after comes a peak at our Autumn table, celebrating the beginning of this beautiful time of year, followed by the O So Exciting moment of... the first egg.

Peace and love to you.

a rainy weekend

On Saturday, the Zimbabwean and I assured Noah that there would be no decent fishing to be had with muddy water and pouring rain. In the end, (it didn't really take that long to convince him) the Dada did indeed agree to take 2 little boys fishing in the rain. Noah baited his line by himself, cast his line out by himself, yelled out "hey Dada! I've got one" (almost immediately), fought the fishy by himself ("he gave me a good fight Mama!"), brought him in and did a happy-joy-bursting-with-pride dance on the jetty. We really don't see this dance very often so it must be relished every time. The brim was then brought home and Noah learned how to gut him, prepare him (with garlic and butter), fry him up and we all ate him for lunch. What a lovely event for my boy.

And to finish off this week, a Rainy Day activity tip: grab your raincoats and children and head down to your nearest communal jetty. We found several boats which needing bailing out and this offered at least one hour of muddy, wet fun for my kiddles. I was clever enough to take a cup o' tea with me AND found neighbours to have a chat with so everyone was a winner this weekend.

some recents favourites

Choochie's "scuba-diver" kit for the day.

Choochie's favourite sunny spot, the day he was in "scuba-diver costume".

a favourite which requires no explanation. Who wouldn't love an Oliphanty?
this one was grazing very close to the Zimbo on his last fishing trip (Sept 2010) on the Zambezi.

first Tiger fish, caught on the Zambezi River, said fishing trip.

a little corner of our top deck, after my weekend alone. Yes the bar and bbq are much better over this side.

Noah's favourite King Parrot. He comes to greet Noah almost daily and is very beautiful. He brings his wife but she's not nearly as chatty. Noah has named him many things. This week he's called Jerry. (Why is Chooch running along the deck railing?)

back on the blog horse

Well, I lost my blog groove there for a while, after Choochie's fall knocked me off my perch. Let's see if I can get it back (this one's for you Gillian xx).

The air has changed slightly. It is still warm and very humid in our neck of the water, but the clarity of Autumn is beginning. You know, when the air just seems clearer... crisper... more like crystal. What a beautiful weekend we're enjoying.

Yesterday afternoon I awoke from 24 hours of excruciating head pain and could hear bang bang banging coming from the wharf. I often struggle with self-disgust after hours wasted, unable to function with strength and joy due to migraine. So I lifted myself up, dragged my sorry arse down the stairs and chopped up enough melon to feel like I was contributing to the community event taking place. I donned a big hat and sunglasses to shield me from the light, and with large melon platter in hand, headed down the hill. What a lovely sight. Apart from the usual amazing view of Pittwater, there were 11 men from this island community, in water up to their bums, working together to build our new commuter pontoon.

The existing pontoon is old and broken, sagging into the water on deflated floats, and with planks of wood missing, wobbling, or poking the wrong way. Boats are usually tied up to the old girl three or four boats deep and when the tide is low, all boats on one side of her are stuck in the mud, often unable to be pushed out. The new pontoon is loooong, and stable, and will be placed further out into the water so that all boats should be still afloat at all tides. She is coming together beautifully, even more lovely because of all those hands working together on a Saturday and Sunday afternoon.

Over on the ferry pontoon there was just as much action: kids jumping, swimming, water bombing and fishing. And many people standing around just having a chat. As luxurious as your own private jetty would feel, I like the community that thrives around a public jetty.

The working bee continues down there today (I'll try and snatch a photo for you). We've just enjoyed salad and barbequed flathead and a long skinny fish which were yet to identify - freshly caught by the Zimbabwean this morning. While he was fishing, and Noah and Chooch were playing rugby/soccer/cricket/fighting, I've managed to slap the undercoat of paint on to the old bathroom window, continue a couple of sewing projects for newly born little ones, and even paint my toe nails.

Ahhhh, the serenity. Island life is good. Remind me to tell you about the first time I brought myself home by boat at night.