A few weeks ago, I finished pruning the fruit trees out the back. I’m not sure if winter is the right time to prune, when the thin branches are growing bumps, but the trees looked straggly so I tidied them up. I decided to put some of the offcuts into my rectangular vase and medium-sized water jug instead of putting them in the garden waste. I admired their sculptural form (both in the vase and the shadow it threw) so much that I ended up giving some away to mum and my friend. I changed the water regularly and after a couple of weeks, white blossoms were emerging. A week after that they were in full bloom, and we had returned from a week at the snow in time to enjoy them for a few more days.
We only had one day of skiing last year, so the girls were thrilled to be having a week this year – and missing a week of school as well. As they confidently whizzed along (‘Cmon mum!’ ‘You know you don’t have to go to the end of the side every time?), I took some time to accept that I am now well and truly out of their league. I had a couple of lessons, which were helpful. They had some too, so the difference between our capabilities extended further. The days were varied – sometimes windy and cold, sometimes sunny, raining in the morning and snow in the afternoon. We enjoyed our lunches of soup, nachos, hot dogs or chips and our afternoons of hot chocolate. I ventured to try a cocktail, a brandy/cinnamon concoction at the bar next door to the ski lodge one afternoon, and managed a mulled wine on the last afternoon when the slopes were icy and I left the girls to it. I still think it’s a strange and childish pastime to spend the days in that way, but it was nice.
The girls connected with acquaintances at the ski lodge and had a great time playing pinball soccer and pool with the now grown up Zoe who they first met a few years ago there, and with children aged from eight to twelve who arrived for the schools competition in the days before we left. We also had meals with Steve’s family friend Odèle, and a friend of hers, Rosemary, who were intrigued at the girls’ curiosity, acute observation and twin synergies. Both women have grown up children who they had young and Rosemary writes books for middle primary-school aged children. They took the time to have a chat, which turned in to long talks over breakfast or dinners. It made me look at the girls with fresh eyes after some of these exchanges, such as when each of them sat down at breakfast one at a time, independently asking (without hearing the other one) ‘You been upstairs?’ because they had noticed that Odèle was drinking a cappuccino which she must have made in the machine upstairs. Odèle was also amused when Lara’s response to being told of Odèle’s surname was ‘McLaughlin? Why didn’t you change it?’ We would like to see them in Melbourne next time we’re there. Who knows, maybe we’ll compared freckles instead of scars and scar stories.
After all that fresh air, good food and company, I was only at work for a week before I had scheduled to work for the day in Sydney. On Friday morning I flew to Sydney and that afternoon, Maggie kindly had Lara for a sleepover and early the next morning she collected Rhea from her friend’s house where she had had a sleepover. Steve and I slept in after a late night at a good Italian meal around the corner from our hotel, where I met Steve for dinner close to ten pm. We ate breakfast out while Rhea had her semi final netball game for the season back home, and we delighted in the Fleurs de Villes exhibition at the Sydney Botanic Gardens, displaying more than a dozen mannequins of notable women dressed in creations taken from photos, made entirely of flowers, leaves, and twigs. This picture is Carla Zampatti, complete with hair made of dried reeds. After a wander through the Botanic Gardens, revelling in the Museum of Contemporary Art’s exhibition of Perspectives on Place from their collection; a great retrospective of feminist artist Vivienne Binns; and then lunch on the rooftop overlooking the Harbour Bridge; it was time to drive home. Home to the girls’ twelfth birthday party at Laser Tag today, postponed after two months of COVID interruptions.
This weekend the blossoms in my vases are spent, so I replaced them with prunings of red berries from a bush in our front garden, and a water jug full of rocket flowers from the plant in and beside the vegetable patch. We ate some of the rocket leaves in a pear, rocket, parmesan and balsamic dressing salad with macaroni cheese for dinner tonight – one of the less expensive meals we’ll eat this week.
Next weekend the girls and I will be home (Steve will go gliding on Father’s Day if the weather permits). Perhaps then, I will clean out the veggie patch for spring.
