Sunday, 27 May 2012


I have dirt under my fingernails and my knees are muddy. Palms roughened and stained. I smell of pennyroyal and peppermint from where the leaves crushed under my fingertips as I patted the bare earth around fragile stems and helped re-bury fat worms. I have a cut on my wrist where the very old rose bush snagged me as I re-homed it out the front. The earth was soft and crumbly as I bit into it with the spade, deep brown and smelling of rain; the blade cutting through the kikuyu runners.

My passionfruit is lush and green and has begun fruiting. Ephemeral, delicate blooms and pendulous fruit that enlarge with every day as we inspect them eagerly at dusk as we arrive home. Tiny lemons are sprouting on the tiny lemon tree while the green tomatoes on the "chilli" bush are splitting their skins as they grow too fast. Corpulent and pale green, waiting to brighten and be savoured. The bush lemon is covered in flowers that smell sweet and tangy and perfume the evening air.

It has been a lovely, langurous, busy and relaxing weekend with much time devoted to lolling on the back verandah in the afternoon sun and sipping from drinks that warm from inside out. It was icily cold this morning as I woke under the blankets and little puffs of breath were visible in the thin air. Curled into my neck was the softly snoring possum while Bingley was jammed against my side - held hostage by Oscar the cat as he snuggled in between layers of blankets to ward off the pain on elderly joints.

The past few weeks have been dreamlike in the way they have passed. The days shorter and so much colder. The mornings so much harder to wake up. I went to Melbourne last week to celebrate the amazing achievement of a friend and spent two hectic days tramping around wearing black and feeling happy. Eating too many good things and trying on feathers and sequins. Drinking sangria on a roof top before curling up in my single bed in the middle of the city, looking down on the streets of Melbourne.

The weekend before that was Mother's Day and so we celebrated with my Mum by playing out in the winter sunshine and piles of russet coloured leaves. I lay in the sun and gazed at the ever blue sky and let the colour soak into me. 

Soaring on the wing

Tiny slice of Paris in Australia

Lights on the roof

Champagne Bar

Wandering along Lygon St

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Flying in over my favourite city


Melissa said...

Were you down to see Cylie?
I saw these photos on FB - LOVED them, every one. Your girls are growing up, and the Possum, could he be any more divine?

Jenn said...

Yes, had to celebrate the end of the thesis!

I'm rather partial to the ratbags :)


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