Sunday afternoon..

my doorbell rings
and two little girls
with a gift of flowers

all short stems
and beautiful

we're bored
they say
so we brought you some flowers

I put out the paper
and the soft chalk pastels

and deck them out
in my oversize aprons

and while I sew
two quiet little girls
are lost in their art
for an hour or so

as peaceful as beautiful flowers

I have just finished reading
The Madonnas of Leningrad by Debra Dean.

A young Marina works in the Hermitage Museum/Gallery
in Leningrad at the time of the German invasion.
She helps pack the precious paintings,
removed from their frames, to be taken into hiding and safety.
Marina memorises each work of art,
building in her memory a mansion, room by room full of artworks.

Years later, living in America and suffering from Alzheimer's,
Marina begins to live again the horrific
Leningrad years and we go with her into that
memory mansion in her mind and visit the paintings.

I have loved this book. How wonderful to seek
the paintings on google as I read, and to explore the Hermitage.

I enjoyed Debra's post script explaining how she came to write this novel,
without ever having been to St Petersburg,
and her reaction to her visit there after the book was written.

Alzheimer's has suddenly become especially real to me lately
as I support a very dear friend.
Debra Dean's book is one I will remember on many levels,
and a visit to St Petersburg and the State Hermitage Museum is
definitely on my Bucket List.

The Longest Night of the Year
tonight.


and today was more like an autumn day,
crisp and warmly sunny.
People are still wearing light clothing.

I'm sure the blackbirds are singing spring songs,
and spring flowers are out already.

A strange season
but lovely.

My wish is to wake early and see Matariki in the sky...
the stars that welcome in the new light.
From here the days grow longer
but I think the cold is still to come.

everyday is the journey

the journey
itself
is
home..

                               Matsuo Bashi


I am reading yet another book about The Camino.
It is becoming an obsession.

I've read..
The Year We Seized The Day. By Eli Best and Colin Bowles

I'm Off Then.   By Hape Kerkeling.

The Camino. A Journey of the Spirit.  By Shirley MacLaine

and now I'm reading..
Walk in a Relaxed Manner.  By Joyce Rupp.

The walk is becoming very familiar.
One day...

I doodle while I listen.
I was listening to the radio,
to a recording from NZ Post Readers and Writers Week.

The phone rang and someone, probably in India wanted to ask me about my power bill,
and would I like a reduction and 50 Fly Buys.
No. I didn't.

When I returned to my doodling and the radio
Mr A A Gill
UK Restaurant Critic and TravelWriter
was just saying

"I'm part of something really big.. something huge..
a big experiment that is all of us.."

A bluebird of happiness?

His name is Eeyore.
 It must be the rainy day. 

The Bay of Plenty..

I've been away on a little tiki-tour to The Bay of Plenty.
There is something special about this journey.
Travelling through the lush green of Waikato farmlands
to the steamy place of hot mud pools and geysers.. Rotorua.


This is Mokoia Island in the middle of Lake Rotorua.
The island of Hinemoa and Tutanekai.
Hinemoa swam the lake, to be withTutanekai,
following the sound of his flute.
On the island is a hot water pool where Hinemoa warmed herself after the swim in the cold lake.
A Romeo and Juliet story of forbidden love. 

Swan spirits of Hinemoa and Tutanekai?

I stopped by Lake Rotoiti

and the big male swan postured and hissed to let me know he's boss.

A lovely break before driving over the Rotoma Hills.

A twisting, turning road, up and over, through the bush.

I spent two days with my lovely sister.

This morning we went out to Whakatane Heads,
before I set off for home again.
In the far distance you can see White Island,
an active volcano,

and Whale Island, peaceful and beautiful.

I travelled home along the coast to Tauranga and over the Kaimai Hills.
The sky was strangely pale and the sun was strangely ringed.

Tonight there is a ring around the moon.
It could be a sign of rain coming,
but it could be the ash cloud from the exploding volcano in Chile
that is disrupting air travel in NZ.

We seem to be so aware these days
of the dangerous and shaky planet
whose thin crust we inhabit.

Papatuanuku
Earth Mother

Now look here!
Settle down!
Enough is enough.
Go back to sleep.

It seems she's just got to do
what she's just got to do.

Our thoughts are with you Christchurch,
as she turns in her bed once again!

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

Oh dear.
I dropped my hand mirror.


I quite like the new aspect.

I showed it to some of the arty female faces in my house
and I think they agree.
An interesting reflection on life..

"I love mirrors.
They let one pass through the surface of things"
                                                             Claude Chabrol

'Life is like a mirror.
We get the best results when we smile at it"
                                                       Anon.

"It is a city of mirrors,
the city of images,
at once solid and liquid,
at once air and stone."

                                                                                               Erica Jong

"Fantasy mirrors desire.
Imagination reshapes it."
                       M Cooley

A Birthday Mandala
for Ann..
with love
and wishes.
A birthday celebrated in both north and south hemispheres..
family and friends around the world.

We love you Ann!

The fact my car wouldn't start this morning,


and then the garage door remote refused to close the garage door,
all together, making me one hour late for sewing class..

and the way it rained and rained all day
without stopping,

making water rush down the gutters
and big inviting puddles everywhere..

.. might have caused me to feel a little "inverted" ..



but it did not stop me from having a very lovely day


or from doodling a Miro inspired doodle
while I watched
clever people dancing on ice this evening on the tv.

I do like Miro's creativity.

'I make no distinction between painting and poetry.'
said
Joan Miro.
1893-1983

I feel the same about doodling, dancing or scribbling down words.

sometimes a doodle
doesn't say
anything at all..

sometimes it is just a quiet
way to end a lovely day..

When I was a child, our books mostly came from somewhere else.
Somehow it felt as if life was really happening somewhere else, not in Aotearoa- New Zealand.
How different it is today.
Our children are growing up with a plethora of wonderful books written by New Zealand writers, set in our own amazing land.
Margaret Mahy is one of our amazing writers.  She is most certainly a wonderful word witch of great magic.
I remember asking once, in a school staffroom, where Margaret Mahy lived and when a colleague suggested Banks Peninsula,  another added "Margaret Mahy? Doesn't she live down the bottom of the garden?"

While her books are definitely rooted in our own land,  she leads us into a fantasy world of fun and adventure.
You are a treasure Margaret Mahy.

Today is the birthday of
Victoria-Sofia
age 7..
as bright as a button
and wise beyond her years..



I decided Margaret Mahy's
The Witch Word
is exactly right for
my little friend.

Happy birthday Victoria-Sofia!

Just another walk around the lake..

A glorious morning again this morning
as I set off on my early morning walk.



By the look of the beautiful coloured sky,
rain may be on the way.

I played sleuth checking out who had been on the path before me.
Australian coots..

human joggers..

lanky-legged pukeko..

and .. oh - oh! I've seen this sign before.
I think it was on the Colosseum wall, graffiteed a couple of thousand years ago.
Nothing new under the sun.

This woman walked along by me for a while.
She carried the whole world in her kit bag.
The large plastic globe was for a project at work she told me.

The man mowing the wet lawns stopped his tractor with a cheery hello,
careful not to fling any errant stones as I walked by.
Ah the things that I see
walking around the lake.

I walk and walk and wonder for how long I could keep walking.

A friend has thrown out a challenge to do the Camino.
800 ks across Spain.
Now that is one big challenge!
That is one Big Walk!