penneylaneonline

We seem to have gone from the sublime to the ridiculous weather-wise. Yesterday it reached 36 degrees celcius and yet today the barometer is barely warming up the mercury in a sobering 21 degree grey day. It feels like a good day to listen to Charlie, Tex and Don. There's something about hearing stories told through the strings of a mellowed out guitar and (respectfully) lived-in voices. Something soothing to the soul midst this meterological confusion. I was thinking it's been a long time since... Sign in to see full entry.

My sister and me like to spend time together at a favourite haunt in Summer Hill. A Cafe by day and a Mediterranean Restaurant by night called Muse. We love the light atmosphere and delicious food, we're foodies with an appetite for fresh light Mediterranean food and conversation to match. My sister and me are like chalk and cheese. She's King Island camerbert and I'm Belgian feta but we work quite well together on the palate despite our differences. In the past I've never really appreciated the... Sign in to see full entry.

Respect is an interesting mask of being. Why mask? Well because sometimes I have a suspicion that there are some among us that parade their respect for all and sundry to see but scratch the surface and what one might find is little more than a controlled derision. I prefer the verb of the noun because as we know the verbs are the action men and women of the noun family. The verb of respect is: to 'show consideration for'. It means we are required to get up close and personal rather than simply... Sign in to see full entry.

If today is any indication of what the summer will be like I suspect we’re in for a scorcher. The sun was quite vocal in his opinions about how the day should pan out. Ferociously so infact. He gave us rather a blistering tongue-lashing as early as 10.30am this morning. It was hot. It was the first time I felt like skulking off into a shady corner in a long while. And it’s Spring still. My friend Hannah, her 4 month old son Philip and I went to my local Bowlo today to look at the ‘indifferent... Sign in to see full entry.

In New Zealand they call it Candy Floss, here in Australia they call it Fairy Floss. The thing is, that whatever you call it, it doesn’t matter because the bottom line is that it’s mouth-watering. It’s the kind of thing you have once in a blue moon because any more will make you ill beyond description. Isn’t that the truth about most good things in life? Well, depends who you ask of course! The trouble with Candy Floss is that you get lulled into a false sense of believing that something as... Sign in to see full entry.

My local Bowlo celebrated its 110 th birthday last Sunday, it was remiss of me to forget mentioning that in my Sunday blog to you but these things happen in a work-about life. Birthdays are funny things, they either make us reflect on a life lived so far or make us want to forget the life we’ve lived so far. Which camp do you fall into? I’ve had pause to wonder over the last few days what the forefathers of my little Bowlo have been thinking as they have watched her get on in years. I wonder if... Sign in to see full entry.

Times change, we expect that. And it’s easier to remember how it was then than how is now for so many reasons. Chief among these reasons, is that, we allow time to accessorise us with rose-coloured glasses through which we peer, as if, with our noses pressed hard up against a Lolly Shop window we experience once again the deliciously anticipated taste of our favourite lollies. Sometimes the truth is more obtuse than that. We (well, me actually) simply prefer the taste of the old fashioned... Sign in to see full entry.

Today my darling father turned 72 years old. When I spoke to him over the phone (he lives in New Zealand ) he was as cheerful sounding and cheeky as always. He is having such a wonderful innings. I love that his outlook on life is as positive (without being manufactured) as it always is. My father is like a sign-post to me. He’s the sign head with the place names on it that always points toward home. Like a living Goldie painting that captures the life lived and everything in between. My father... Sign in to see full entry.

I love weeding. There’s something so satisfying about it that when I survey my handiwork at the end of the day I tend to feel rather smug. What’s not to feel smug about? Evicting unwelcome agricultural tenants has a distinctly satisfying feel to it. I love that weeding affords a girl time to think, not about anything in particular mind, (unless something in particular is the order of the day), rather, it creates a spacious-ness in our thought processes that is rejuvenating. It clears the cobwebs... Sign in to see full entry.

I love to reclaim things. That is, give life back to something whose appearance has faded somewhat. It reminds me that a good make-over (without the huge price-tag) is completely do-able and can give a piece of furniture a great sense of pizzazz. Earlier this week I did just that to an old wardrobe. It was so seventies brown. I’m often loathe to paint over wood work but there really seemed to be a need in this case. Are you like me? Look at something and know that under that drab exterior beats... Sign in to see full entry.

I’m a fairly pragmatic type. The characteristic came about from the way that early childhood farm living tended to cement certain thinkings in a person. It’s true what they say, you can take the girl out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the girl. And I love that! Country folk are among some of the most practical people you’ll ever meet in your life-time and more than that, they’re real, genuine and so worth knowing. For the most part they lack a certain pretentiousness that... Sign in to see full entry.

My friend Jan shared a lovely story with me today about her grand daughter Maya. It went something like this. One night, when she put Maya to bed Jan blew Maya a kiss and asked her if she’d caught it. She was told, no. Jan went to blow Maya another one and was told she didn't have to do that because the first one blew straight into her heart. It was such a heart-warming story I just wanted to share it with you so you could share in the heart-warming moment as well. Children have a definite knack... Sign in to see full entry.

I was having a much needed shot of coffee yesterday afternoon with Lucas on his back patio overlooking his bounteous garden. It seemed like it [the garden] hadn’t received the news there was a drought on, it had simply stockpiled all of the rains from previous months in its plant roots. It was a sight to behold. A luscious oasis. A large black butterfly danced by on the whim of a vagrant breeze, I wondered at first whether it was the same one from the other day, on her way to meet her friend who... Sign in to see full entry.

Have you ever watched television with the sound muted or god forbid (I'm kidding) on a black and white television set? It's a must do experience. Muting the sound forces us to engage in the picture on a level that we might not normally engage in it. m In a world where sound is held in such high regard, we seem to have settled for so much less interms of the accuracy of that sound. In my opinion, accurate sound is worth hearing. And when you hear it, you understand that what you've settled for in... Sign in to see full entry.

One of the more interesting night sounds you can hear in the city on a clear night is the sound of a tawny frogmouth. Think old fashioned agitator washing machine. You could miss it if you didn't have avid birders to help you hear. "In Australia there are three species of frogmouth, the Papuan Frogmouth, P. papuensis, is confined to the Cape York Peninsula and is larger, with an orange-red eye. The other species is the Marbled Frogmouth, P. ocellatus, which is similar in size to the Tawny... Sign in to see full entry.

Do you have friends like me that we might not have seen for a long time but when we do get together again, we simply pick up where we left off? My friends Jen, Graes and Ian (though Tamsin was away) are like that. We haven’t seen each other for a long while yet their friendship and love and humour is as fresh and as inviting as it ever was. I love them to bits. I wonder sometimes, if you wonder like me, why some friendships are postmarked in this way. With this round-trip sense that is... Sign in to see full entry.

When I was growing up I was in love with Davy Jones from the Monkees, sad but true. And lovely all at once now I think about it. No, really it is! When he sang Daydream Believer, every girl this side of the Black Stump (australianism for the back of beyond) was in love with him too probably. I haven’t minded sharing him over the years. Reverie aside, music has been a balm for my jangled nerves all my life. It has a way of slipping inside, finding the knots and providing the right kind of massage... Sign in to see full entry.

Ever have moments when your brain reruns the lyrics of songs over and over and over in your mind to the point of distraction. It can feel like the needle of some old record player that’s stuck in a groove. It feels that way for me this morning. I find when I get like this that somewhere deep in the internal machinations of my life I’m trying to figure something out, trying even to make sense of a piece of a puzzle. The part I hate the most is lying in bed at night and finding myself turning... Sign in to see full entry.

I avoid sarcasm like the plague. Some people do it so often they never realise just how awful they sound. Personally, I believe its a subtle form of grand-standing, a way of making the one delivering the venomous snipe seem bigger, even clever. But I dont think they are! I think they show themselves in their true colours, as being small-minded and mean spirited. And from time to time I suspect they must feel so miserable with their lot that they feel compelled to pass that misery on. It must be... Sign in to see full entry.

This morning as I listen to the quiet I realise how life, mine in particular, can snake round in on itself, like some colourful social conga eel that looking back over my shoulder I can see has begun to weave and wind its way effortlessly across this red earth. m And I wonder. Do you wonder just how you came to be where you are right now? In this time, in this space? The sense for me this morning is not such a biggie, just a quiet pondering, nothing strenuous. The truth be told, I have just a... Sign in to see full entry.