My Halls dairy Walk - Willunga

My Halls Dairy Walk.

In the grand scheme of life or a series of fortunate accidents (!) I have found my place in Willunga. This small quaint town full of old Cornish cottages, hidden lanes and bridges, curious old street names and many heritage churches.

It seems this was a place to build a church.

Amongst the land, the buildings, the harvest: the yields of the vines, the orchards and the dairy I have found that the creative spirit flourishes here.

There is also a stillness that enfolds me. Particularly in my little refuge of home. There is no road frontage of cars to disturb. The bush and its animals and the birds are our close companions.

My fondest moments of praise, wonder and contemplation within this spirit and place are found on my solitary walks along the Halls Dairy Road.

It is barely a few minutes from home and one is in the midst of the hills, solid old gums and the grazing cows of Halls Dairy.

The sense of timelessness is a joy.

A feeling of gratitude for all that is around me and beyond.

The only anxiety is that our ceaseless need for more might ruin this scene. Somehow take away this spirit of refuge and eternity.

I put out a silent prayer for our place to be protected and savoured for many moons to come. In the words of Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians.

Do not quench the Spirit.

—1 Thessalonians 5.1

The politics of fear and surplus.

The economy is the patron saint of politics now.
It is all about getting into surplus.
The actuals of what our country excels in is being left behind.
Peter Goer's reflections that there is little to choose from in politics does ring true.
Howard brought our country back to the dark days of white Australia with his fear mongering.
Now both parties are massively over reacting to the trickle of refugees that by some miracle get to our country.
Our system of barbaric detention is setting us back as people and as a nation.
Perenial problems need reformed thinking.
We do all have a role in this.

Solitude in the modern world.

Is Shelley in league with Peter Goers on the tyranny of technology?
She writes of too much instant media and overload on personal opinion drivelling out everywhere.
(The power of one - Feb 4th)
The dangers of 'group thinks' and open plan offices versus the individual space.
Team mores and committee meetings versus the glory of uninterupted private work spaces.
The team atmosphere does have the advantage of increased accountablility.
In your little world you can drift off and easily distract yourself ie slack off.
Also the team gives you someone to bounce off, connect with and complain too.
So in short the open plan nature means your own colleagues do keep you honest even if they drive you up the wall!
Solitude in the modern world is probably only found in rare moments - the shower?!

Marvellous Meryl to Women's Weekly

You always do a wonderful mix in your magazine.
Politics, sportsman and real life on the frontline.
But the highlight was your feature on the marvellous Meryl Streep.
She just embodies Margaret Thatcher with a raw energy and humanity on screen in The Iron lady.
How does this happen? A figure widely despised, yet we are held by her performance.
Meryl is a marvel of our age, a chameleon who doesn't fall for the cult of celebrity.
Also I hope I look half as good at 62 as she does naturally.
Thanks again for the expose of the actress and mother.

Grand Designs for 2012

I was a bit miffed that Graham Norton jumped ship to Channel ten, but I still adore him.
The other talk show hosts Letterman, Ferguson and Carr do their best, but Graham really does seem to enjoy himself.
We won't mention the dire Jonathon Ross, will we.
Have also been appreciating the new series of the charming and enthralling Grand Designs.
I find myself fantisizing about the huge free range projects that occur over many turmultous years.
Kevin Mc Cloud trudges in to set the scene and reflect on their downfall or ingenuity.
I wonder what Grand Designs await us this year on the telly?

First post of the year.

Is this really my first post for the year?
Have been doing other writing and letters, just not posting them up.

Darwin too far away.

Darwin is two days away.
It beckons us to come and explore its lush tropical vibe.
There is some apprehension about the choice of visiting Darwin in the middle of its wet season.
We decide to give it a burl.
A legendary trip up on the Ghan is the real draw card.
As usual I am packing at midnight the night before in blind panic.
The end result is usually far too many cosmetics I never use and not enough basic things like actual clothes(!)
The morning of the big train trip I am frantically making lists and sorting out crucial things like a clean up under the sink where no one ever looks.
Eventually we arrive at the station with ticket and bags and a mountain of reading material it would take six months to read.
The Ghan team greet us before we board and we find we are facing backwards all the way to Darwin.
Still the cabin is comfy and we get to watch the world go by with our feet up.
Once we have made decisions on when to eat we are duly summoned to the dining room.
Little booths with white tablecloths along the dining cabin.
Great wines and a very respectable menu selection.
In fact a large part of the journey is either eating, watching the world slide by or sleeping.
The other big plus is that we are now passing Port Augusta and heading into the land of ‘no signal’.
That is no internet, emails, TV, radio, Facebook and the compulsive grip of twenty four hour news.
Free to while away my time with my own thoughts, writings and reading said large pile of books, magazines and correspondence.
The only glimpse of the commercial world is a small amount of merchandise on the train.
We are greeted by many people during our dining experiences. Brits on long holidays, smug Californians on sabbaticals,
a trainspotter with coke bottle glasses and seasoned aussies from all over.
Alice Springs is the first stop over. We are warned to expect heat and as we leave the luxury of our air con we are slammed by a wave of pure heat.
It’s 40 degrees celcius in the shade and we are wilting fast. We head off with our friend to get a few supplies, noting the frozen roo tails on sale.
We then hop straight into our friend’s pool, a welcome respite.
Returning to our little nook on board we savor the cool and await the call for dinner.
We roll on throughout the night towards Katherine.
Katherine greets us with the full force of her humidity.
We take refuge in the visitors centre before loading up again on the stationary train.
This time we sit and go nowhere while we dine. The Edith river bridge wash out means we will take the bus from here on.
We sadly leave the comfort of our cabin to bus it to the steamy rains of Darwin town.
Across the land we came.