Pages

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

cultivating a green thumb: july

oh dear.i had such high hopes for the garden. but as you can see, aside from a very healthy compost bin (it has munched up all our green waste and a couple of newspapers and down the bottom are thousands of up-t0-date and well-fed worms and lots of nutritious black compost) all i'm cultivating is a place for rats and rubbish. so now it is my project to create a functional garden that will hopefully yield useful plants to eat and look at.
i'll delight you all with updates every so often to ensure i stay on track.

Monday, July 12, 2010

cedar b hartley

the slightly true story of cedar b hartley (who planned to live an unusual life) by martine murray (allen&unwin)

i love this one. i love the gorgeous scrappy cedar b. it's been out for quite a few years now, but i sell at least one copy per week at work, and more and more little (and big) girls (and boys) have been equally delighted with her. cedar hangs around on smith st, she wanders down the merri creek, plays with her dog stinky, and makes friends with kite - the boy who can fly - and cares for all the people she knows (except perhaps mr barton and his son harold).

i love the way martine murray puts her words together, and the slow and quiet but magnificent thoughts she articulates through this positively delightful character.

'i liked it but i can't say why. perhaps because it was odd and small and quiet, not grand, and because it made you smile just a little inward smile, and the way it scratched at your mind, like a funny tickle. not a big one. it wasn't big, but it still made you wonder.' (p.140)

here is a list of the things in this book that tickle me:
- barnaby's postcards
- sweet carmella with the chubby knees.
- kite, the bird boy.
- the wobbly, thoughful oscar.
- the fab little sketches and "commonplaces" throughout.
- little scruffy stinky, cedar's dog.



and here is my own darling puppy dog, whom we named cedar b.






and here she is as a wee puppy!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

to julia gillard -













we all die in the end

an excerpt from darren hanlon's song folk insomnia from his new album i will love you at all.

"...and then one day i start to worry
that i am gonna be a goner
before i read all the books i wanna
and if i plant a tree now it'll be fully grown
long after i'm just dust and bone..."

because what's a thursday without pondering our mortality?

darren lives here. he is also the second most notable person to come from gympie, queensland see wikipedia.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

new brunswick cafe: pope joan

this morning the evil sister and i had brunch at the 6-day old cafe pope joan.

it is officially a hipster-free place. however, this made me quite uncomfortable. and i felt pretty uncool. the staff were VERY chirpy and happy and eager to fill our water glasses and take our order. it was so...bizarre. i am used to having to catch my coffee as it's flung onto the table by Surly Waitress at a minor place and being snubbed by all the rude wait-staff at any place in northcote. but - it has only been a week. they'll come around to bitterness.

the coffee was quite delicious. not as strong as you might get at a minor place, but very very nice nonetheless.
i was disappointed to find that the fried haloumi/rocket pesto/dukkah dish (which they had advertised on the postcards delivered to the evil sister's house last week) wasn't available on the menu - but my order of toasted banana bread with rhubarb was very delicious. err, tho it did turn out to be rhubarb cream but it was quite light and it was a-ok in the end.

evil sister had a bacon and egg sarnie which she says was very yummy. she opted out of having HP sauce on it though.

although the chef (the kitchen is in the open) initially shouted NO! when i enquired whether the haloumi dish would make an appearance at all, he was then very funny and grumpy and nice and said there'd be something delicious with haloumi and beetroot coming up. so i'll have to go back...

77-70 nicholson st brunswick east
www.popejoan.com.au <--but this site didn't work when i tried today.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Sunday, July 4, 2010

"i mean what i say, i just shouldn't say it aloud"

slice: juicy moments from my impossible life is the perfect example of less-is-more, of well-chosen words, of understatement and poignancy. and, it's very funny.

darcy is in year eleven at school, a bit of a shakespeare fan, definitely not a soccer guy (in spite of his middle name - pele - and all of his football-mad dad's encouragement). he can't shut up, mostly just blurting out whatever shoots into his head. even when it's not the best thing to say.

there's the totally awesome english teacher, ms hopkins, who wears t-shirts with great slogans on them, whose reaction to the class dismissing the romantic poets as crapola is to piff shelley out the classroom window.
and there's the beautiful audrey, girl of darcy's dreams. audrey who meditates in her backyard while darcy lies out on his roof...pretending not to watch her. audrey's not afraid to say what she thinks.
and there is noah, chess-obsessed and darcy's unlikely friend. there's also tim harris, the bully. but our characters don't stay pigeonholed or one-dimentional. these are normal, smart, thoughtful teens who are awkward but somehow confident, they've got their problems but nothing is blown out of proportion (tho darcy does spend a lot of time worrying about one little blackhead on his nose) and when it's revealed that noah's father has suffered a stroke darcy isn't so blinded by his love for audrey that he can't realise when others need support. these are good people.

slice looks at what it is to be a man. it's a coming of age story and includes a gorgeous scene in which darcy goes to buy condoms and reminisces about going for ice cream with his dad, wishing he was getting ice cream now instead. such beautiful sentiment about childhood and moving forwards, and it only takes herrick three short paragraphs. i can't help thinking about other books (err...and my own work) that blather on and on, in an effort to get to their point.

herrick is master of writing relationships. in particular, relationships between fathers and sons (like jack and his dad in love, ghosts and nose hair ; the father-like relationship between billy and old bill in the simple gift) and in slice it's hilarious and beautiful as dad frets about darcy thinking suicidal thoughts, to the point of kneeling at the bathroom keyhole as darcy wills his blackhead pimple away. there's nothing clichéd, nothing mean or brutal in here, the dads and their sons are always friends - even if they are annoying and stupid at times.

on my first read i thought that it would have worked better in the free verse form of herrick's older work, that it was too short as a conventional novel. but reading it through for a second time, giving myself time to really enjoy the way it was written i decided it's pretty damn perfect how it is.
read my reviews of some of steven's other books here. or read his blog.