The Bright Side

 

Bloggy friends..  I have many things to tell you!

 

Does anyone recall (ahem!) me mentioning in a previous post that I have the best bloggy friends in the world?  You may…. vaguely recall..me asserting such a thing?

 

It’s true!

 

Last week I had the enchanting, amusing, charming experience of meeting Mr Richard Stevens. Richard is associated with the dainty Rustique Rose tea room at Laidley, the scene of one of our adventures last year.

What’s so special about Mr Stevens?  Well!  Apart from the pleasure of listening to his well modulated voice, (though we couldn’t convince him to sing for us!), and apart from his wit and sparkling conversation, Mr Stevens came bearing gifts.

The image above is from an autograph book of  a young lady attending teachers college in (British colonised) India in the early 1900′s, and was one of the treasures Mr Stevens has left in my charge.  Among other things was a scrapbook of collected “pretty” things – poems, cards, pictures etc.

But by far the most exciting discovery for me was the following pages..

 

 

 

 

 

The first time I read about the funeral for the “Unknown Soldier”, I cried.  I, generally something of a stoic, wept at the thought of the collective pain of the families whose menfolk were left on foreign fields, but more so at the astounding beauty and mercy of the idea of a state funeral that could be, for each person attending,  in honour of their lost.

 

Imagine my wonder at finding newspaper clippings on just that very subject among the collections of  fancy dress plates and society pictures the young lady had pasted into her book.  My very own source of primary history on a subject dear to my heart!

 

And because all the joyful happenings of my life seem to come in bundles, just a day later I met with another bloggy friend, who also came bearing gifts!

 

Super Secret Agent Chicken Little (alias, Heidi:  some of you may remember Heidi? ) came with her family to visit ours!  After staying at her house, swapping all sorts of interesting things through the mail, and having her as part of my blogging community for some years, I can finally report that she is real.  Yes, folks, Heidi is no longer an invisible friend.  ;)

And in a conspiracy that only girls with pluck would attempt, we managed to surprise Mr BB and the Chicklettes with … four chickens!   Have I mentioned Mr BB likes surprises?  He (cough!) certainly looked surprised.

I really like chickens.

 

Here’s one being adored by Miss 9.

 

It’s a joyful business meeting up with special people.

I am very blessed!

 

 

 

Whoo Hoo! Happy 2012!

Hello Sweetest Bloggy friends in existence!

Happy New Year!!  

I hope you have all enjoyed time with people you love over the holiday period.

We spent the Christmas week at Baldersleigh -  on an eight thousand,  (yes! 8000!!) acre property, with 6 km of creek frontage, all by ourselves.  Delight!

At 4330 feet above sea level, it was sumptuously cool for mid summer days, and just plain cold at night.

We like to sing, and found we need to make a family song book.  It was surprising how often we thought we all knew a song, only to find at least one or two members didn’t know some of the verses.

We listened to One of the Twenty-Eighth  by Henty as our read aloud. Next holidays I will choose the read aloud in advance and record it using Garage Band or Audacity, so I can still see the country flying by as we travel in the car, and taking the hard copy, can continue evenings around the fire.

We explored the creek (a vital, vital part of summer holidays!!)

We shot targets. :)

My camera, tripod, and I spent a lot of time in the creek. With Mr BB  there to ensure no one drowned, or was run over by a stray cow, or any other such catastrophe, I took my own sweet time to experiment. Luxury!

We drove the six hours home only to face a two-hour drive to the Chess Ball the following day.  This, friends, is insanity, and will never happen again.  To get home from hols in the evening, wash the 13 tonne of clothing that is the inevitable result of a week away, get the house into “overnight guest respectability” (Did I mention we also had overnight guests?!) deal with hair for the chicklettes, and be out the door at midday the following day meant I rather felt like crying (or at the very least sleeping! Actually.. no, I really did feel like crying!!) by the time we made it to the ball.

We live and learn.

Thank you, friends, for your encouragement and friendship over the past year. It is my privilege to have the dearest of bloggy friends!

I wish a joyful year to all for 2012!

No Dig Garden

Hello Sweetest Bloggy friends in the world!

I hope everyone is surviving end of year activities?

Yesterday I received notice that a certain visitor has found, and I quote, “ just the same tired looking Scotsmen…” each time she checks in.  (When did my blogging audience get so saucy?!?)

So here it is, the post I threatened you with .. oh.. ages ago, on my gardening experiments, with an update on other happenings.

As we are built on rock with just a lick of topsoil, we opted to try a no-dig garden.  It is a lasagne of hay and manure, with topsoil or compost as the final layer.  And because I like to do things just so, (the “so” part being exactly how the instructions read!) what actually happened in my yard caused me just a little concern.

Mr BB did the blokey construction part, so I can’t tell you too much about that.  It’s railway sleepers stuck together man style – lots of bolts and pieces of metal and such. Very sturdy.  Cyclone proof, I don’t doubt. Because while I like to do things just so, Mr BB likes to do things thoroughly.  :P

A thick layer of newspaper goes down first to suppress the weeds.  We didn’t have nearly enough newspapers, so cardboard was the next option.  It needs to overlap so there are no gaps for pesky weeds to sneak though.

Each layer must to be watered before the next is applied.  Of course, if you have very young helpers, you need to make it abundantly clear that they have to wait for their siblings to complete the layer and exit the garden before the watering starts.  I forgot to make that clear to Blossy.

Here is where my garden deviates from the recipe.  Instead of having layers of hay and manure, mine was a jumbled mixture.  The farmer offered to bring in loads of old hay and manure mixed together.  Old is good.  And I have to tell myself that it would eventually have mixed anyway. I guess. .. .. (It would, wouldn’t it?)

There are no pics of that stage – it was all shovelling from the ute by flood lights, in the dark and rain, and it was no time for photos!

Mrs Fivepeas generously shared some of her heritage seeds with us, the farmers shared seed with us, and we browsed the local nursery.  If you are thinking of gardening, check out the  heritage seed site  – too, too much to choose from!

Hopefully in a few months I will be sharing fresh produce and homemade pesto with my sweet friends who have so generously shared their bounty with me this year!

On other happenings..

Remember the Chicklette’s list?

We’ve been canoeing with friends. We’ve baked pecan pie.  We’ve been to a ball, and there is another coming up just after Christmas.

I’m ticking off the veggie garden, and the next few weeks will see the BB household hit the tents for a camping escape.

Um.. yay?

There’s nothing like camping in the wet season.  Not that it will be a shock, considering, because just about every camping adventure has been wet, wet, wet!  (Still grateful to my dear friend for giving us a meal and a dry reprieve during our 10 day-camp-through-a-cyclone holiday at the rock pools…)

Think of me friends, when you are dry, air-conditioned, and ..dry.

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Hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!

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A Great Big Adventure

Hello Bloggy friends!

You’ll never guess where I’ve been, never!!

Not Scotland.  (Or those poor chaps in the photo wouldn’t be nearly so sunburned… )

Do you give up?

I’ve been farm sitting.

Yes!  A  Very Brave Person left their farm in the hands of the (completely uninitiated and citified) Bluestocking household.

Here’s what we’ve been doing…

Loving Angus.  Isn’t he beautiful?  He’s a mere youngster yet, and we are all smitten.

Feeding the goats and sheep.  Why was Blossy feeding the goat in her pj’s?  Because it was FIVE am.  (Yawn!)

She just couldn’t wait.

Feeding Cows. Cows, friends, are Very Scary Characters.  I may have mentioned here before that I have uncomfortable feelings about cows.

Geese! I want one. Or maybe two.  Aren’t they pretty?  Heidi, though, (yes!  It was Heidi’s farm, but more on that later) said that perhaps something less noisy would suit our very close neighbours.  But… but… geese are so pretty!  And goslings are very, very special indeed.

And because she is such a thoughtful dear…… Seedlings!

No, we didn’t have to feed them, we planted them in Heidi’s vegetable garden.  :D

Doesn’t that sound delicious, Bloggy friends?  It was.  And there’s more.

We went to a Scottish music festival during our time at Heidi’s farm.  And a great bookstore (joy!).  But even more delightful than either of those was the opportunity of meeting up with a lady from the Aussie homeschool board that I have known on line for years.

I didn’t actually get to meet Heidi, but certainly kept in close communication with her over our stay, as farming is trickier than I thought.

Friends, I may have said it before once or twice, but.. I really, really do have the best bloggy friends in the whole world.

Royal Spring Garden Party and Grand Ball

 

Hello Bloggy friends!

I’ve asserted over and over that I have the best bloggy friends in the world.  That’s indisputable. But I have mentioned that my IRL friends are among the sweetest God ever made?

 

Two of that number laboured tirelessly (and ceaselessly! and creatively!) for weeks to make this season’s ball spectacular.  Here is a sample of the day…

 

At 3pm guests arrived at Windermere Estate – five acres of the most beautiful gardens you can imagine, designed by a lady with an eye for the aesthetic.  Afternoon tea, introductions and the distribution of programs followed.

 

Of course, some poor little girls didn’t have much chance of afternoon tea.  They looked pretty, it was a beautiful garden, and their cousins were there.. so.. circumstances kind of begged me to drag them off for photos…

At 3:30pm the ladies and gentlemen divided company for a talk on etiquette.  We thereafter wore the social restraints of the era as well as the clothes.  :D

4pm found all in preparation for the Royal Tournament, and this involved a waltz. How those two things related is as much a mystery for me as for you, as I was driving my little people  home to Grandma’s and missed this part.  However I came back in time to catch part of the waltz, and I have to share one of my favourite photos of the day with you..

The composition is not ideal – it was shoot it where I was standing when I saw it or miss out, but I love the light, and the expression on the Chicklette’s face.

Next – The Royal Tournament.  See the squares on the ground in the photo above?  I can’t explain the rules of the game, but it was in part a game of Living Chess.  It involved a great deal of sword play and hilarity, the result of which was Mr BB being put to the sword (see below), and a young Knight winning the hand of the Chicklette, and the two of them being crowned as a result.

At 6pm it was time for high tea.  We sang the Selkirk grace in rounds, no less! (did I mention the MC of the evening was a conductor?)

As evening fell, it was.. freezing.  At this time of year one might expect to have been perishingly hot in formal evening wear. But it could easily have passed for August:  the wind was sufficiently gusty to blow over the marquees! Picnic blankets, spare jumpers, and rugs began to appear..

Have you ever read the Ukrainian folk tale, “The Mitten”?  I couldn’t help thinking of it when two girls huddled under a picnic blanket, and then they admitted another, and another, and another…

It was easier to bear the cold when the dancing began.

 

Supper was served at 9pm, followed by more dancing, and at midnight a Finale March, and then all gathered to sing a farewell anthem.

 

Friends, it was enormous fun.  Imagine having darling friends who would work so hard to produce such an evening for you.  I am blessed indeed.