Mock-tober

 If I were in any way superstitious, I would be quaking, I know, but I feel like October has a sense of humour about things.

I think that October is a ginger cat

Rolling us in his playful paws.

Yes, occasionally the claws come out 

And blood is drawn 

But it's mostly fun (hey October?)

Image: Eddie, our old ginger puss, in front of Paris's long toes - from some month way back when.

I wonder if it has not been helped by my listening of choice most of the month, the third series of The French Revolution through The Rest is History podcast. (Perhaps they had the right idea, getting rid of October altogether!)

Today I did leave the compound. I even left town.

I started a new audiobook, Edenglassie by Melissa Lukashenko. Radio National, as the name implies a station covering the whole of Australia owned by the Australian people and this year they did a Top 100 Australian books.

Image: proof

I will have to dig out my votes. A few got in - many didn't but that's okay. I remain hopeful others will discover my favourites but my taste is sometimes not the popular.

That being said, Cloudstreet by Tim Winton is a pretty good book.

So really, other readers were the ones voting and there may be many that I have missed.

My driving today took me through half of it. It's going well.

October colour is often something talked about in the northern hemisphere, with fall leaves. But this is when many flowers bloom here.

Image: Lilac and Magenta blossom surrounded by a sea of petals in a park.

The purple of the Jacaranda always signal exam time in Queensland.

There was also an amazing sight of these white crocusy things popping up in yards the whole way through this little town I go through. I must get my aunt to identify next week.

Image: said quaint little town 

I got to the resort that Mum and Dad have moved to by mid-morning.

High points of the visit were -

• Having lunch with Dad and "the boys" - half a dozen octogenarians - and discussing food aversions.
• Bridie, whose next birthday will be three figures, regaled me with her tale of coming to the area seventy-five years ago after growing up and marrying in Clare in Ireland.  She and her husband previously owned the property Mum and Dad have had and lived in for twenty years.
• Seeing my uncle and aunt 
• Seeing my sister and sister-in-law 
• Making Mum smile (it was oh so brief and fleeting but it happened)

Image: Mum and her sister many, many years ago 

Then I hopped in the car and came back to my own little home in anticipation of a whole day at home and not at work.

Image: meme - all text (all caps) "when you ask me what I'm doing today and I say "nothing " it doesn't mean I'm free, it means I'm doing nothing. So don't get any idea"

I know, still in October though. We will manage.

Called it too early.

 It seems that I just come in here to whinge, this October.

It's not that there hasn't been shimmers of good amongst the October offerings, but the flinging of merde truly needs to stop of October is to be taken seriously any more.

Image: completely unrelated picture of the beautiful Miss L, our grey tabby cat.

See, we had planned a road trip. Well, we had tried to plan a road trip, my sister and I.

We had time to organise and we indeed spent time in the lead up to talk about organising.

Time was of the essence, but the good news was that we had some and there were things happening up until only a few weeks before so it was fine, we had time.

Image: the beetroot harvest not from October, however the resultant pickle was enjoyed in October so counts!

Until all the things happening happened and then lots of unplanned things kept happening and wouldn't you know it, the week before the road trip arrived and we weren't THAT planned so we decided to get down to the serious business of planning and organised ourselves and itinerary and accommodation and had even got to the heady heights of thinking about logistics.

And then it was the week of and little things kept happening and logistical conundrums kept arising but we were organised and willing to pivot and...

Image: screenshot of a very moist weather map

And then the weather gods entered stage left LAUGHING and dumping great bucketfuls of water between our launch point and the destination but did that deter us?

Not a whit. We possibly wavered but the day before had arrived and my sister was in town and we saw the news of floodwaters but we know our State and storm season and it really is a roll of the dice.

So the gods turned their attention to Paradise #2's roof and just kept it drenched all night.

We met this morning with fading hope and watched the forecast.

"Showers easing" said the weathermen "with possible increases in storm activity" (for an each way bet) and then told us that, quite frankly, Sunday was going to be the main fly in the ointment with "possible hail".

Thank you October. No refund for accommodation.

We will try again as the need to do a job at the end for my Aunt's POA still exists. But we are looking askance at what is left of October.

Image: a meme - text above says "Apparently being a forklift operator at a boatyard is as fun as fairy floss" (I know it doesn't but I try not to swear on here -originally in the fear but nowadays in the hope that Mum might read this). Picture beneath text forklift skewering running people with the caption "NO PEDESTRIANS"

Dirt on the liver

I have been having one of those Octobers. I don't want to say too much, given there is still 10 days to go.

But man, some days I get so over it.

So I shall distract myself.

One of my distractions - myself, my father and my sister - apparently we have changed our heritage over the last few years.

I wonder how long it will take Ancestry to get to primordial soup?

At least my focus is not now snagging on this as I drive around. 

And my old flatmate who cam to visit a fortnight ago didn't spend all of her time in hospital.

The new house does not yet have a proliferation of hippies. I have two bedraggled pots amongst the collection - and only one photo. 

I was proving to V that the dill was no longer a commodity that we could rely on.

(Not really a picture of Paradise #2)

So how is your October going?

Mid-October (and a book review!!)

 It has truly been a beautiful weekend.

As usual, less than any pictures so you will have to rely on my word for most of it.

Friday evening was the Third-Friday-of-the-Month Budding Poets society (although consensus was almost reached that we are now up to Blooming and some of us nearly Spent) at the local little bookshop.

There is a transition of management at the Boutique, but both old and new are doing the transition slowly and with genuine warmth in the transaction.

(I have known the Boutique since its establishment right on lockdown in 2020 - and through several ownerships)

Rob hosted, and the turnout was quite good considering the rain and the work required by a few for the next day's events.

My most memorable thing that evening was 'Salina was not going to read but got inspiration enough that at the break she put her name down for second half and shared two of her short entries, plus an absolute rip-snorter of a piece that she wrote during the break.  

Yesterday was the local Writers Festival that was hatched at The Book Boutique and what a lovely little day.

I did not attend any of the meetings for organisation, as being away at least every second weekend with parents and aunt the last few months it just never happened on a day that I was in town.  But I did volunteer, and many that I know through Poetry and the Boutique were involved.

 One of the benefits of moving into the nearby big town is that I can be ready at 1/4 to and arrive before an event begins on the hour - which is what I did.  That, the its a small enough big town that parking was not a problem a block back from the main drag.

The feature at our festival was Monica McInernay.  Its amazing how many of her books I have read or listened to over the years.  Its like she has been an easygoing, pleasurable backdrop to my reading pleasure.

Her latest book, When Sullivan met Lola, is cut from her beautifully crafted cloth.  Its hard to know how it would be as a stand alone, only because her characters are so beautifully drawn that you feel comfortable with "knowing them" from the get go.

This book brings two small parts of MM's world together and takes us on a narrative of knowing what power - or disempowerment - situations beyond our control can give and how two major (and several minor, including those who have passed) characters develop through the journey of this book.

 The interview that Dannielle held with Monica (if I may call her that) was so very easygoing.  Dannielle was beautiful.  Her introduction, telling a self-effacing tale of her discovering her love for a book she inadvertenly got from the rival (but a most beautiful rivalry) second-hand store.  (Actually, as an aside, I am so very impressed with the three local booksellers in big town, as they have created events and worked so well together encouraging each other's businesses.)

 A customer of The Boutique came in, and in their discussion with Dannielle was told of her favourite book "Hello from the Gillespies".  To her surprise, the customer told Dannielle that, not only did she know the book and author, she counted her as a friend.

Which led to a signed book which led to a request to be on the itinerary for the latest book which led to the kernel of an idea for a festival which led to committees being formed which led to yesterday.

Monica was such a very graceful interviewee - she is a storyteller and she works to the medium of live interview very well.

The first panel session was The Poet's Perspective, hosted by Rob Parr and his guest were Shelagh Brennand (FB link) and Dr Cornelius (known to all as Kees) Nydam.

Rob's poetry is very heartfelt.  Rob works very much in the field of Men's Mental Health, with his Untamed Mind project and his work Brave Brothers (and also Donate Life Qld)

Shelagh has a very interesting story about her foray into poetry and is so bright with her Yorkshire accent and her zest for life.

Kees' poetry is very much crafted with textures and layers, and having had heard him sing them on occasion and his audience interaction, he is so very skillful.

After the first session I was rostered on to be a volunteer.  I got to man the front desk and sat with a friend and directed many booklovers, old and new.  There were stalls from writers all around the hall and a sectioned off room for the panels.  

The session that I missed through this was a Writing Fantasty session, hosted by Craig Mulhall (insta link) (another Dr and who was very generous of his time when we did his first book at thebook club) with Sue Ellen Pashley, Ren E Gade and Susie Burch (FB link).

 During the next hour I worked my way around 1/2 the room (it was a lunch break for the panels) (some were away from their stalls, else it would have possibly only been 1/3 of the room I got to see)

 

The next panel was Romance Writing hosted by Louise  Richter and with Cynthia Terelest, L M London and J A Garth (the new Boutique manager).

I was meant to be volunteering again for the last hour but luckily another volunteer offered to stay for the last session as she was enjoying a book.

The final session was Getting Published, hosted by Sandy Curtis and featuring S R Silcox (another author who has come to our book club), Jeremy Bates and Monica McInernay. 

And today - today I have had all of my family around for baseball and hot dogs (Tampa Bay Rays won) and its been raining here, on and off.

I was going to go around the stalls, but another day, I think a nap. 

 

It's a philosophical food post

Sometimes life just keeps pitching sliders at you so fast, that all you can think about is food.

Is it a biological imperative, I wonder, to try to deflect what happens (and is happening to) in front of our eyes and instead think of all the senses, and how it pertains to food.

Image: breakfast of champions, two slices of toast, one with black Vegemite and green avocado slathered on and one slice with Dad's grapefruit marmalade 

V's team is the Padres, therefore my team is the Padres (number 23 has always been my lucky number).

Their season unfortunately ended today.

Whilst that does not necessarily mean that the baseball has ended for the year, what is on offer is poor consolation.

What it does mean is the "it's time to get serious" moment has come in regards the Dr Pepper and the occasional burger and the hours of hope every week invested in a team?

Alls I know is that I have to find a spot to store the ice bucket.

Image: clockwise from front - a tangle of hose with spraygun attached, two black pots bereft of beetroot, seedpods of basil in background against a corrugated iron fence, a sad tale of Dill's End, a pot with lone tomato plant fruiting o'er the side and a white brick.

Through a series of unfortunate events I will have an unexpected weekend at home this weekend. 

I normally try to get to see Mum and Dad 2 weekends a month, but October is unbelievably busy so in a way this time here is a gift but I won't get to see them there for another month.

Image: proof that sometimes sewing tins do indeed have biscuits 

These biscuits need no metaphorical draping, they offer what they've got - they smell delicious; they look delicious; they are very, very quiet; their touch light and sweet - and they taste divine. Even better with free lemons. The Loopy Whisk's gluten-free-lemon-crinkle-cookies

Image: cartoon of a woman returning from holidays coming in through a white door being greeted by a portly, yellow cat, speech bubble says "Welcome home. Oh, and that automatic cat feeder... niiiice!

Happy to give credit where due but I have realised that doing reverse image search for authentic creators of stuff on the internet is a task that I am not (yet) prepared to instigate - so show yourself if you be the clever one who put the above together.