Missed my deadline last month, so no ‘September’ in my archives. Nothing I can do to change that, even with modern technology. But who knows what AI will get up to, or IS getting up to.
Something happened with my iPhone the other day that had even my very tech savvy son-in-law puzzled. I had received an email from an energy company that I thought might have been meant for a neighbour. I texted the neighbour and asked would he like me to forward it to him. He gave me his email address. A little later I went to my messages to text him a reply but there was a text already there – from me to him, waiting to be sent – only I hadn’t written it! It seemed to be from my energy provider re neighbour’s solar feed-in tariff being reduced! Is this what we are to expect? Is AI already beginning to make decisions for us and running our lives?
It seems to me that mental health issues are rife. Are people lonely? Too busy to have meaningful, healthy relationships where fears, concerns and challenges can be discussed, shared and worked through? This is one of the things I missed most when Warren died – that one person who knows you better than anyone and with whom you can share any burden that is consequently lightened by the talking. Fortunately I have established new friendships and refreshed old ones but it’s not the same as having someone there, available, at any given moment.
I came across a wad of quotes that I had compiled many years ago. This one I find relevant to me today –
‘The story of your life is written by you. You are the author. There is no reason, therefore, for you to view the drama and feel trapped by it. The power to change your situation is your own. You have only to exercise it.’ – Author Unknown.
On this theory, I have recently had another little adventure. Two of my girlfriends and I drove to Victoria. We chose Daylesford and surrounds to explore. Horsham was our first night’s destination. We’d booked into a good motel, thinking we’d just eat at a pub that night, but pubs and clubs were booked out. So we set out on foot in this town that we had no knowledge of – looking for somewhere to eat. The streets were dark and finished for the day. Blinds drawn, lounge-rooms full of reality TV, the odd dog barking at our sensed presence. We walked and talked, believing that we would come across somewhere to eat eventually. And we did. Alone and lit up in a sleepy residential street, this lovely little Thai restaurant looked cosy and welcoming. With a few other diners, we were treated like royalty and the authentic Thai food was cooked to perfection – everything fresh as the day and piquant.
We found our way to our accommodation in Trentham next afternoon, each of us looking right and left along the way, as I always do, ingesting every aspect of the passing landscape.
We’d booked a beautiful old weatherboard ‘cottage’ – upstairs, downstairs, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, modernized, clean and comfortable, with everything we could possibly want for a three day stay, including firewood for the slow combustion heater. We did small trips each day – to the charming surrounding towns, and an eight kilometer walk through the Wombat State Forest. Walking in a place as majestic as this, with some unexpected bush-bashing in order to bypass long stretches of water on the track, being caressed by the forest smell and its hush, just got into my soul as it always does. In the evenings we lit the fire, drank some good wines, ate a little – usually after a proper lunch – and one night danced and laughed and sang our hearts out to Abba. Isn’t Abba always the go-to for that kind of night. Of course I’d brought my trusty Bluetooth speaker – plugged in to Spotify.
A visit to the Garden of St. Erth in Blackwood had my endorphins dancing as well. A very old property with original stone home, huge trees and acres of rambling terraced gardens.
Our next accommodation was in Daylesford – at the Central Springs Inn – an 1875 National Trust building. While there, I texted a Barossa girlfriend for her birthday. We’ve known each other since Adam was a boy. Sent her a little news of where I was and what I’d been doing. She replied by saying that she and her husband were going to be in Daylesford the next night. What a coincidence, but what came next was even more amazing. I asked her where they were staying. ‘At the Central Springs Inn’ was her reply! So we had a happy hour with them the next night and then a meal together at one of the pubs. A delightful little happenstance.
On our last morning in Daylesford we walked around the lake. Again this happiness for me in being out in Nature – the freshness, the hush, bird-calls, reflections on water.
It was after this that the girls headed home without me. As pre-arranged, I had another old friend pick me up from the Inn and we drove to Melbourne’s CBD where we’d booked a spacious 20th floor apartment.
Melbourne in Spring is a beautiful city. Previously I had only been there on business, and had never really walked around with eyes wide open as I did this time. With architecture being another of my passions, I marveled at the age and breath-taking beauty of so many of the buildings – each one different from the next – the old standing proudly beside the new. A man or woman has designed each one – spent countless hours at the drawing board with pencil and eraser, or at a computer with modern technology apps – imagining people living and working in each room or module. Thousands of sketches later, there it stands – their work in stone and glass (old) or steel and glass (new) – to be part of a city-scape – the whole that we call Melbourne. What a noble occupation.
We went to the Queen Victoria Market the first day to buy food for the week – lovely cheeses, meats, bread, fresh fish, and salad vegetables. Breakfast staples. We had a good meal out each day – whether for lunch or dinner. There were countless cafes and restaurants to choose from in laneways off of Lonsdale Street. My favourite evening meal was at a renowned Chinese restaurant called The Secret Kitchen. I had soft and succulent roasted duck with Chinese steamed vegetables including aged black garlic that was amazing on the palate – sweet and creamy.
We walked the streets or caught trams – to Chinatown, the National Gallery, Hozier Street (the cobblestoned laneway full of ever-changing street art), had a beer at Movida – famous Tapas bar. Sat in the iconic Young and Jacksons pub near Flinders Street Station as we sipped our icy cold beers, watched the comings and goings of patrons and talked the wholesome talk of old friends.
We went out to St. Kilda one day – lunched on Acland Street. Another lunch one day on the South Bank, sitting outside in the sun and again watching the passing parade and, for me, making up stories in my head about their lives.
This lovely holiday was certainly one of contrasts – another chapter in my book of life.
I wanted to include another poem in this blog but today is almost over. I have my evening farm jobs to attend to, so will put it up tomorrow.
Travel safely and well – you are the author of your life.
Warmly,
Sue
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