I’M BACK!

Oops! I inadvertantly typed an L in there. I am not black. I am varying shades of pink, with a light spotting of paint-chart-mocha.

Waddyamean, you didn’t even miss me?

Oh well, let’s not quibble.Here’s little mystery pic for you.

You know how it works – leave your answer in the comments. Sorry, no prizes.It’s been a taxing time Chez Dinahmow!

I have been and, indeed, am still a trifle busy.Busy lugging hoses around gardens. Up here, we are still waiting for the wet season.Yesterday, Brisbane was hit with the worst storm in (“they” say) a decade.Rather a lot of zeros and commas in the damages bill.

And I’m , a-hem, helping my friend’s class to make a puppet for their carols night. A rather large carried-on-sticks puppet.Of a brolga. Oh dear! I seem to have done my usual thing and jumped in without actually considering the depth. So if I dash off leaving you with a short post you will understand that I need to get another layer on the armature…

The grocer had some marked-down Phalaenopsis on a stand.Couldn’t resist, could I!  They’re indoors for the moment, as a welcome-home for The Man, due back tonight.Tomorrow, the orchids will be moved to the ferny corner, with their kin.

That’s not the picture I intended, but the sharper focused one shows too much clutter and I wouldn’t want you to think I was an untidy slob!

On a sad note…most of you know that I have been to New York twice to be a cat sitter to a most remarkable cat, Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana. A cat of great charm and huge personality, he left all of us who loved him with some wonderful memories. And a vastly enriched vocabulary of bastard Spanish. Bless you, Storbie.

 

BITS AND PIECES

Rather like my life, really. Well, certainly like my front room! I did start to clear away the detritus of framing, wrapping and stacking work for the little exhibition. Then realised that quite a lot of the bits and pieces might as well stay where they were since I’ll be using most of them when I start assembling the books (three sets of -eek!).

I took some time out on Sunday to head to the Marina. Why? Well, The Man had his Mustang down there as part of a small fund-raiser.* Not exactly a classic car show, but there was a fair bit of interest in the shiny toys…

My first thought when I saw this? “I hope the hand brake holds!”

A ’65 fastback.Considerably beefed-up. Quite a “bird-puller.” 

 

And this, for all the little kids! (And some big ones.)

And it wouldn’t be the seaside with ice cream, would it?

 

Somehow, not as romantic as Antonio’s ice cream cart…

I wandered over to that net-wide emporium of vulgarity (Youtube) and this was about the best on offer. That’s a bloke singing! I noted that, beneath the clip, it read: best suited to old folks’ homes.

And for readers too young to recall…here’s a quick sketch of the old-fashioned kind of ice cream cart.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is something in this that “speaks” to me. I love work like Brian Dettmer’s fabulous carved books and Cecelia Levey’s delicate paper sculptures. But this, on so many levels, is very “me.” Perhaps because I recognise some of these old Victorian streets, perhaps because it’s quirky. But mainly, I think, because the books remain readable books. …Hooray for Daniel Speight!   http://fuckyeahbookarts.tumblr.com/post/33226420495

I think it’s time I teased you again…what is this?

 

As usual, post your guess in comments.

 

* One of the Marina shop owners was taking donations to assist a breast cancer patient.

BACK ON HOME TURF

I usually bounce back pretty quickly from a long flight, but the trip home was Hell-with-wings! Unable to sleep on the ‘plane, I have been crashing out for cat-naps several times a day since I came home.

So it may be a day or three before I have much to say. Got some pitchas, though…

I’ve always had a penchant for a Morgan

This one is offered as a “prize” for spending rather a lot of money at the swanky shops at St.Pancras station.

National Theatre, South Bank.

And, just because I can, a Mystery Picture!

You know the drill…tell me, in the comments, what  (or perhaps “who”)  you think this is.

And perhaps, by the next post, I’ll feel sufficiently recovered to tell you about my terrifying experience with a duck…