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June 11th, 2009
We went to the St Andrews’ Community Market for our long weekend excursion last Saturday, early in the morning, driving through the rolling hills of Eltham, Research (I should live in a place called Research) and Kangaroo Ground.
I remember now the thrill I felt on seeing place names on the green road signs familiar to me from the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency books on a conference trip to Gaborone, Botswana in 2005 – tantalising confirmations of the reality of being in a different place.
Before we reached St Andrews last Saturday the green road signs started including the distance to Kinglake and I felt sad.
The market was enjoyable, higgledy-piggledy amongst the forest in the town. It has a hippy feel. There are handmade soaps, the ubiquitous South American knitted items, true handmade knits and children’s clothing, African baskets, pony rides for purchase and gas bottles, recycled into mesmerising marimba-like instruments. I bought a McCalls Afghan book for a dollar and a prim little century-old tome, Homely Words for Mother, along with some very nice tasting French-style candied nuts and chai from the Chai Tent.
We were done by ten, so extended our morning by driving from St Andrews to Yarra Glen via Kinglake.
The road is extremely windy and narrow. The signs advise large vehicles not to enter. Not long after leaving St Andrews signs of the bushfires became evident, and very soon, signs of the inferno. We stopped talking in the car. I don’t know how the people who live in this area cope with driving this desolate road on a daily basis. As far as the eye can see – and that was a long way because the way was clear – miles upon miles of matchsticks. I’ve seen burnt trees before, and they have burnt brown leaves. These trees had no leaves. All that remain are charred trunks, hence the incredible clarity of the view and the grimness.
People are still living in caravans and tents. People are out rebuilding fences and lives. They are also remembering lost loved ones, harrowing mementoes strapped to trees. I wept.
Posted in memory, personal, 2 Comments
May 19th, 2009
A few weeks ago (8 May 2009) a one penny Post Office Mauritius stamp, the 27th specimen – or stamp known as ‘Limbo I’, sold in Germany for more than two hundred thousand euros. All the newspaper reporting on it I have seen is in German. If you can read German search Google on ‘Rote Mauritius’ – the Germans like to refer to these stamps by their nicknames, the German equivalent of ‘Red Mauritius’ and ‘Blue Mauritius’.
Eventually I will update the entry in my Blue Mauritius website to reflect the details, but here they are for now. There were about 100 people at the auction, which lasted only minutes (as it would). Wasn’t sure whether I could state the identity of the former owner, but I’ve seen it given in a newspaper article online, so I guess there’s no problem with that. It was Ulrich Schulze, who inherited the collection from his father, Gert Schulze.
There is an article about the stamp pre-auction, along with an excellent photograph, at:
http://www.derwesten.de/nachrichten/staedte/essen/2009/4/21/news-117669614/detail.html
Posted in stamps, No Comments
February 9th, 2009
I walked past Kevin Rudd, the Prime Minister, in the Exhibition Gardens this morning (Monday, 9 February 2009), shortly after 7am, on my way to work. He was speaking to a news crew, with the backdrop of the parched gardens behind him, a false Autumn of dead leaves shed from heat stressed trees lying at his feet. He looked sincerely grave.
Reflecting on this, I phoned my father. He told me that the death toll from Victoria’s bushfires, still burning, had risen from 93 confirmed dead at 5.45am this morning, when I turned on the radio at breakfast, to 108, and is expected to rise.
We spent Saturday indoors, of course (apart from an insane outing by my mother and I in her new air conditioned car to buy craft and food supplies). I looked out the window mid afternoon and felt drawn outside. It wasn’t that the sky looked menacing or spoke of the horror that was going on elsewhere. I couldn’t even smell the smoke from the fires, as we could in January 2006.
The sky looked flat and dead. Everything looked dead.
I took a handful of photos that capture nothing of what it was like at that time, which turned out to be precisely when the temperature peaked at 46.4 degrees celcius (around 115 on the old scale), the highest ever recorded here in Melbourne.
The dead grass crunched underfoot. No metaphors other than the obvious can describe the wind. It was straight from hell. It was as if it were lying in wait for me, swirling around my bare legs, piercing blazing needle sharp fingers into my flesh. The camera felt like it was melting in my hands and I went straight back inside.
I couldn’t stop listening to the ABC radio emergency broadcast. There were fires around Bendigo, and between Camperdown and Pomborneit, where I have family. At one point the town of Cowwarr, where my parents lived for 15 years was threatened too. They are all okay.
But Marysville. A whole town. Gone. Many’s the time we’ve spent lovely long weekends there, part of our honeymoon there, even a week of peace working on my book back in 2004. We stayed at a family friend’s house just outside the town. Like almost every other dwelling in Marysville it has gone, including the houses of all the neighbours. Those friend’s son’s house and business in nearby Narbethong has gone too. They are all okay – but people died in Marysville. It is all gone. A whole town. The 100 year old houses and trees and the new.
If only the sky would darken and rain would fall. I don’t want to see the sun today.
Posted in personal, 2 Comments
December 30th, 2008
The Hives @ The Forum, Melbourne, 29 December 2008. Feet killed me, despite the bogan attired feet – running shoes to support my arthritic toes! The bounce was almost gone (mine, not theirs) but I loved the Hives, again! Maintained a three person buffer between us and the mosh pit (is that what they call it these days?), clapped, screamed and bounced (after a fashion) on Howlin’ Pelle’s queue (he does have the best job in the world), and realised that Two Timing Touch and Broken Bones is probably my absolute Hives fave.
Not in order, I think they played: Die, All Right!, Main Offender, Hate to Say I Told You So, Two Timing Touch and Broken Bones, Walk Idiot Walk, A Little More for Little You, Diabolic Scheme, Tick Tick Boom, Try it Again, Hey Little World, Won’t Be Long, Return the Favour, Square One Here I Come, You Dress Up for Armageddon, Bigger Hole to Fill, plus two covers (one being Stormy Weather).
Enjoying oneself that much (the unnecessary aches and pains of age aside) makes me also realise that life has not yet passed me by, and 2009, please, has got to better than 2008!
Gig review at fasterlouder.com.au.
Posted in fun, No Comments
