sunday morning sitting in the kitchen doing my morning pages
yes, I am doing the artists way.
the sun strikes thru the red gold green glass of the windows
playing patterns of colour over the table.
sun sightings have been rare of late and it feels good to see the broken up sky admitting blue to the circle.
the label on the jam jar catches my eye
yes, distracted once again from the morning pages.
it reads :
a summertime production
a wild magical journey
a real experience
in that label is a story of a moment in time captured and stored in a jar,
a day when Jess Kingston Carole and I fossicked among the thorns for the juiciest berries ,
I remember the cool wind blowing at us from the ocean
exposed on the ridge of Caroles sheep property on the road in to the Illawambra Creek
at the foot of the Dumpling.
Wandella Mountain looming tall with all its towers to the north,
the mysterious blue ranges of Wadbilliga to the west
and thru Narira gap to the east the commanding presence of Gulaga.
last night I went to a birthday party
Virginnia Sada the queen of curve and lush wanted to dance
to celebrate the moment with friends.
around the back of Gulaga Mountain we drove in early evening dark
dressed in our finery.
me in a bright green quilted skirt ex- dressing gown and made by Glenda
topped with a deep purple satiny frock with chiffon ruffled skirt,
a purple beret, lipstick and a pair of Nanny’s gloves
ladies gloves, black with gold beadwork
for a very small ladies hand
and really too tight and ladyish for me.
candles illuminated our way into a house lit with music and conversation
full of love and heavy with the scent of warm mulled wine.
I had made an apple and rhubarb crumble
a simple affair as far as puddings go
good winter desert
beloved in this family.
I wondered if it was classy enough for such a gathering
particularly as I had made it in our old scuffed roasting pan
I quailed a little placing it on the desert table alongside a chocolate scrolled torte.
the house of many rooms filled with laughter
old friends bonded and new friends claimed,
guitars, flutes and drums played.
earlier in the day the labyrinth down at the bottom of the big hill had been walked.
dogs raced around and offered wet kisses,
bodies danced under laser strobe lighting
Sada asked if warmed would be better ?
later on in the kitchen while Monica and I were
ransacking the shelves for a tea we wanted out of the million varieties on offer
we rescued the crumble hot and bubbling.
I found cream
it was good,
very good said Monica.
I AM the queen of crumble, I said.
what is the secret?
don’t tell, says Kim
but then that is easy because I really don’t know.
Leila came back for 3 top ups,she said she was sharing with a friend
extolling the yumminess she asked who had made it?
you are the crumble queen she says.
Monica and kim and I looked at each other and laughed
there’s a story there ,said kim
the faerie embassy is my home space,a beautiful mudbrick castle in a richly diverse forest. which means I am very passionate about wallabies and pythons and mist spiders and twisted angophoras and the sound of the wind and the feel of the rain . we are an ark ,an island of light, a beacon of common sense in a crazy out of control consumption mad world.we have a composting toilet for goddess sake.