Justin sighed. It was hard to follow your dream when all they did was mock you.
I've been having fun with my Farmville site on Facebook. There are times when you've done all your chores, and there's nothing much else to do. So I've started making little scenarios with my livestock.
Chatting around the grain silo at lunchtime, they were incredulous that Bruce had managed to get an iPad on the weekend.
While I'm creating, here's a birthday appearance for Best Beloved, who turns 39 today. (He's 3.5 years younger than me -- does that make me a cougar? or just a kitty?) I thought, even though (or maybe especially since) he doesn't read my blog, I'd give you a sneak peek at him:
This is probably as close as I can get to portraying him, anyway. I thought about putting him in a shirt & tie, to denote his Servant to Teh Public status, but he does love his Cartman, and his present today from me was two very silly and quite rude tshirts, including this, which delighted him, but we both agree that it will be hard to find places in which to wear it.
I remembered to buy him a birthday cake to eat last night when we went out with mates, and I cooked him a nice breakfast this morning. Tick, tick, tick tick, most of the birthday boxes ticked. Phew!
Yesterday I discovered that if you go to the farmers market with a friend you haven't seen for ages, you spend a lot longer shopping than on normal weeks. But it was a lot of fun giving her a conducted tour; at one point I was showing her one stallholder's exquisite gypsy ham and explaining that it was ok to buy a big lump all at once because you could cut it up and freeze chunks, when the woman next to me thanked me for the tip and bought a nice big chunk for herself. Public service in Canberra is so much more than being in KRudd's employ.
It was such a beautiful Autumn weekend, one of those times when it's positively criminal to stay indoors... but I had a book to make, and I've been putting it aside in favour of other tasks for so long that I just had to get in there and do it. Luckily the first stage of making meant that I had to go to the Book Stud at the Art School, and that meant that I could see the trees and the sky from its wonderful large windows, and even in the inking slab.
I was making monoprints. I was making monoprints all weekend, editions of them, which is a strange thing do really. I talk more about it here, and I also explain why I'm editioning them. However, right here, right now I've got other things to share before dragging myself off to bed.
I love working at the art school, for many reasons, not in the least that strange things happen at random times. On Wednesday, I looked out of the window and saw the usual view down to the Sculpture workshop:
Except... except. Something was different, and I went down to investigate further. This is what I found, instead of the usual OH&S signage:
Installation piece? Protest? Prank? I have no idea. It had a companion piece:
All I know is that the next day, they weren't there.
Anyhoo, last night I cooked a stupendous yummy:
This is my pasta sauce just before I poured it onto hot spiral pasta: home-smoked chicken (BB's latest craze is home smoking), mushrooms, Russian garlic, leeks, baby spinach, white wine and thick cream (cleaning out the fridge, normally we'd have used plain yoghurt). It was sooooo nice that I thought I should share the thought of it with you.
Anyhoo anyhoo, as I rode my bike home from the art school in the dark tonight (without a front light! Naughty! Note to self: batteries for bike light. My back red flashy thing still works fine), the thermometer outside the ABC showed that it was my all-time favorite temperature: 13 degrees. Cold enough to need a jumper or jacket but not cold enough to make your teeth chatter or to need gloves on the hands. Lovely. Ah, Autumn, how I love thee so.
BB bought the first series of Six Feet Underground while he was in Melbourne, so we started watching it. I'm such a late starter on everything, it means that when I want to rave about something, everyone else is just so over it. Sigh. Luckily I don't care too much, it's still pretty fun.
What about the hipster daleks on Dr Who tonight? Bumblebee went nuts, was so excited, and all I could think was how clever they were to produce 5 or 6 separate collectibles rather than one. How can I get mistily excited about a tree in my front yard that drops its golden-yellow leaves to reveal the nattiest little brown baskets full of black berries, and yet feel so cynical towards a bit of redesigned cult product?
I'll ponder this in bed. Might get me to sleep faster.
We bought Bumblebee a laptop for his birthday, and it arrived today. He did his homework super fast on my computer while I set his up, and now he's set up a Facebook account.
It's finished! We've decided to sell it from my website, so I've written up a promo page and set up a selling thingy in my Duckshop.
That's a detail of one of the pages (the actual pages are longer in dimension); it's a really hard book to reproduce because the ink is a shimmery silver, and the images are for the most part, subtle and airy.
It's not a cheap piece for the average punter, but in terms of limited edition books it's a pretty affordable publication, especially (and this is where artists' books are really weird financially) when you consider how much a Patsy Payne print costs as a single sheet (as much as the whole book!).
We've all donated our time and energy to this book, as a fundraiser for the author, Sarah. She's been very ill over the last few years, and this is a gesture of artistic solidarity, I guess. So all money goes to Sarah, and she can do what she wants with it (I think she's thinking about making a digital copy of the book so that her poems are more readily available).
We will be launching the book in Canberra sometime in the next few weeks (I think), I'll let you know the details when they come to hand. It'll be a good chance to come & see the book in person, if you'd like to see more! In the meantime, one of the 16 copies is on show at the Libris Award exhibition at Artspace Mackay until 23 May.
On Saturday, I took Bumblebee for a bit of a road trip, leaving Best Beloved at home with the kitties to get his essay done (he's studying to get the Extra Handy badge for his Public Servant merit sash).
Our goal was his godmother's 40th birthday party. My friend Manthy was the first non-medical person to touch Bumblebee, and this was quite an unplanned thing; my mother (birth partner of choice) fanging it on the road to Canberra only to arrive too late, my father, in Canberra on business, too green-gilled to hold my hand, despite being officially licensed to kill (war being more palatable than birth, for some reason). We rang M, and she was there like a shot, bless her. Unfortunately, soon after she moved to Wollongong, and for a variety of factors, one of which is that both of us are self-absorbed artist-types, she hasn't seen much of B in the ensuing years.
So I thought that this would be good for Bumblebee, in a variety of ways. We booked a cheap motel room, threw some odd bits of clothing in a shared bag, and drove to the Gong, ready for anything.
Of course, the party was lots of fun. M is a musician, and teaches drumming and dancing, so the attendees were a lovely bunch of people who cheerfully helped make a no-dig garden as a birthday present, complete with accompanying gypsy-style music played live by those who brought their instruments.
No-dig gardens are very easy to set up when you get all the ingredients and invite a large bunch of willing helpers to set it up. I'm quite inspired.
Here's the garden in progress, with musicians under shelter in the rear. More photos at flickr.
The woman in the green dress is someone I hadn't seen in years. We shared a house together at university 20 years ago, and it felt like This is Your Life when I saw her (and another friend) walk in the door, looking just the same except with the same crow's feet I see every morning. It was fun to catch up.
Here's a little video that has hardly any vision because I was sitting in the half-dark listening to everyone play later in the evening, and my phone doesn't cope with darkness. The main thing is the spontaneous music, played by people who jam together in different groups, but happened to be in the same space that night. I didn't know most of them, although I chatted to one fellow at some point, and he turned out to be a member of Waiting for Guinness, whom I enjoyed at Woodford one year.
Manthy herself has a number of music projects on the boil at any time, one of which is called Mahri Autumn. She's just released an album under that name, and as a celebration of her birthday, I have two copies to give away to anyone who is interested. Have a listen on her website and decide if you like what you hear, and then email me (don't put it in the comments!) & let me know if you want one (don't forget your address). The first two emails will get a CD, but I'll only post to Australia, sorry. FWIW, my favorite song is Jack. It's my new jogging-on-the-treadmill song at the gym.
Enjoy. If you like it and I've already given away the CDs, buy one directly from her. I don't think it's in any stores.
There was masses of delicious (mostly) Greek food, and birthday singing. Manthy sat through us all singing Happy Birthday to her, and then, in typical conductor style, made us all stop, hum in tune, and then made us do it again, drumming us through it. Classic M!
Of course, while B enjoyed the gardening and running around in daylight, as soon as the sun went down, he & the other kids discovered that they all had gameboy consoles with them, and suddenly there was a game circle inside, playing together wirelessly, ignoring the adults and the pleas to join in with the music etc. Sigh.
Yesterday we had brekkie on North Beach, drinking smoothies whilst watching old war planes circle the city for ANZAC Day, and then drove southwards to have lunch at Berry with my lovely aunty Sue (in torrential rain!) and then up the cliff face via Kangaroo Valley, into the (dry) Southern Highlands for a cuppa with Bernice (who lent me the new Brenda Walker to read, which I've gulped down overnight, and am determined to buy my own copy) and then home to a big lamb roast and Dr Who.
Goodness, I keep forgetting to blog... that's because I came back from Mackay and stopped thinking and doing, and started exploring Facebook while I lolled (in the more traditional sense) and got sucked into all kinds of silly but fun games like this:
This is a snapshot of my Farmville farm, with a little folly of boulder and daffodils on the left, plus animals and plots of rice and raspberries and sundry other things. Contrary to real-life appearances, I love gardening, but I don't have the time of energy to do it, and have always set it aside in my mind as something I will do later when I have more free time and fewer fine motor skills. So Farmville is appealing to my green yearnings and Social City is... dunno, but for now it's fun. And, as usual, I'm doing things way after everyone else has lost interest in them, which is a problem when it comes to having 'neighbours' or fellow participants...
Speaking of lovely greenery, I've been doing a fair bit of driving over the last week or so. I went to Cooma to deposit Bumblebee with Colonel and Lady Duck, and all along the drive I saw the most magnificent golden leaves on the poplar trees, glowing in the sunshine along the roadsides.
That shot (taken precariously whilst driving near Michelago) doesn't do the glory justice. I do so love Autumn.
I also, in the last week, got my first and hopefully only GOLD TOOTH. Up the back, so I don't glint alarmingly when I smile, but I flash when I yawn. Apparently as a chronic tooth-grinder, gold is safer and will last longer under the pressure. The gold crown is covering a cracked tooth, probably from said grinding, so I really should do something to relax my jaw when I'm sleeping/working, the two main trouble times. Although how to relax further when you're already asleep is beyond me, really.
I've run out of time tonight (probably because I keep checking my Scrabble/farm/city), but tomorrow I will come back and talk about Mahri Autumn, which is another thing altogether.
Over the past few weeks I've been meeting really lovely people who read my blog. One such person came to the opening of 3 Chords and introduced herself* and then asked me how Bumblebee was going with school. Others were at Mackay, and there are always people who come up at things like the LifeLine Book Fair (WHICH STARTS TODAY PEOPLES) and shock the hell out of me, but it's to be expected, since I put myself and my loved ones out for show constantly.
Well, here's an update:
Today is Bumblebee's 13th birthday.
I like to think I've managed to capture a few of the many moods of teenhood here. He's in his new beloved (and progressively crustier) uniform of black skinny jeans, a black suede waistcoat (a great bargain found at the Folk Festival) and his black Dunlop Volleys, teamed with a progression of fave t-shirts and his permanent hat.
We (parents, grandparents) teamed up and bought him a laptop, which hasn't arrived yet, but I'm sure when it does he will start to develop his own distinct online presence. I've deliberately kept him from constant computer use, but it's time for him to immerse himself, at the recommendation of his teachers.
Over the last few days I've given myself what can only be decribed as a minibreak, a phrase I've up to now disparaged as English pompompery to be found in movies like Bridget Jones. Why couldn't they just call it a weekend away, I've always sneered. But having 2 days anytime in the week where you can just ignore the world is definitely a minibreak, and a wonderful thing.
Bumblebee and I had one day where we had a 'boyfest': we watched Iron Man and Clash of the Titans (one in our pyjamas, one in the cinema) and ate pancakes and choctops. The next day we did a chickflick fest and watched When Harry Met Sally and Sleepless in Seattle and ate pancakes and Chinese dumplings. I love the fact that he's enthusiastic about both genres.
Today we are driving across to Harry's Discount Emporium in Fyshwick to check out his Star Wars stock and then we will poke our heads into the Book Fair. And then he goes to his Dad for the weekend, so, just like the day he took his first steps from his dad to me on an access visit, we both get to spend his first teen day with him.
What a dude, eh?
* and dammit, I can't find your card! Can you email me at ampersandduck[nospam, insert symbol here]gmail.com and give me your detalis again? I am SO LOUSY at these things. It probably got washed in my jeans by my overzealous hubbie...
