The Maroon Diaries

It was with great joy that I collected my copy of   The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection  by  Alexander McCall Smith  from the library and with great satisfaction that I devoured it, over two days, like a delicious block of chocolate. The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection is the thirteenth installment in  The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series . I absolutely adore these books. They are right up there in my shortlist of best books ever. When The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency was published in 1998, it was a huge success. Everyone adored it, and no wonder, it was just gorgeous. I have been delighted with the steady stream of subsequent installments, though I noticed, as the years went on and more episodes were published, many of the people I knew who were captivated by the story in the beginning were starting to complain that they were 'getting a bit same-y.' But I am just thrilled to discover, with the release of each new episode, that it takes me right ba

If I ever have cut flowers in a vase, I don't throw them out when they start to droop. I leave them out on display and watch in fascination as the flowers change every day on their way from vibrant life to rotting death. I find every stage of the process exquisitely beautiful, equally beautiful. How are these images of the flowers from my birthday tea not just as beautiful as when the flowers were fresh and hydrated? I find it worrying that our society has such an aversion to and distaste for death and all that reminds us of our mortality. I believe that death is every bit as much an honourable and essential force in the web of life as every other stage of life. I was thrilled to discover a kindred soul in the author of  Morbid Anatomy , a blog that celebrates the role of death in our culture and history. I find the images, artworks and themes here stunning, enthralling, mystical and profound. The Autumn Equinox passed recently, so it was an appropriate time to ponder

Yesterday, I got cracking on the next stage of a certain ongoing work-in-progress that I refer to as the door-hanger-thingy. Once I decided that I was going to blog about this project, I thought I'd better come up with a better name for it, preferably one that actually described what it was. I thought about it for a bit and decided that my creation was a Braided Doorway Curtain. Only it didn't really stick. I'm still calling it the door-hanger-thingy. It's an odd fact about my main living area that is technically has no windows. It does, however, have three external doors that can be opened and closed. Each one was once a wall of a telephone box. Oh yes, how cool is that. Add to this the consideration that our backyard is a communal space and really, anybody could be wandering about out there, and the issue of curtains comes to the fore. I've tried many variations since I've been living here - but over time it occurred to me that what I really wanted was a bea

Today, my best favourite op shop is having its semi-regular big sale. In addition to the regular op shop being open, there is furniture for sale in the car park, books in the foyer, and another room of trestle tables heaped with piles, through which you can rummage and pay $5 per garbage bag full. Yep, pretty exciting stuff. So I couldn't stay away even though I was pretty tired this morning. I was browsing through the children's books when I got such a shock I think I actually made an audible choking sound. A children's book called Bromley Climbs Uluru by Alan and Patrician Campbell. The cover showed a photograph of a stuffed teddy bear among a landscape of red rocks. If I were telling this story to a local friend, I would just continue on and expect that said friend would immediately understand why I felt so scandalised. However, I'm aware that this blog is read by people from other countries, people who have never been to Australia, and would not be expected to

Today is my birthday. 34 today. In celebration, my tribute to Einstein's famous birthday photo . So often I've read or heard stories of people getting older, and feeling it badly on their birthday, suddenly realising their life is not what they expected. I thought I would not be so susceptible to such an experience, as I'm not so attached to age numbers, or expectations, or regrets, generally. But today, it's my turn for 'one of those' birthdays. In my plan for my life, I was going to be living in Europe by now. I'm sad that I'm not, and that I'm still living in a town I do not like at all. It snowballed from there. When I was young, everyone was so sure that I was going to have a special life, a big life. I was sure that great things were in my destiny. Usually I do think of my life as pretty special and great. But today, suddenly the days when the world was my oyster and my whole life was ahead of me have dissolved - and what do I have to

We went on a long drive through the country, to visit my mother's house. Hours of wide open spaces, the landscape so typical of the Western Districts of Victoria. Endless rolling fields, the wide brown land that Miss Mackellar  loved so much, and a big blue sky that just goes on forever. I'm not sure what it is about this spot that it qualifies as a 'Significant Roadside Area.' It looks pretty standard to me. And this is what it looks like when we're NOT having a drought. Just in case you're thinking that maybe there's something else outside the frame of this picture, I turned around a took a shot of the other side. I admit to experiencing an urge to commit an act of public vandalism, specifically, to efface the last letter of the village named on the lower of these signposts. I can't imagine why. I did manage to restrain myself. The surreal geometry of European trees planted in straight lines. I found this crop of box-cut gum trees,

Op-shopping is more than just a past-time or a way to get cheap stuff for me. I am absolutely obsessed and addicted to op-shopping, beyond all reason. If I'm travelling along in a car, and I see an op shop, or even if I know we're close to one, my heart thumps and my pulse rises. On Thursdays and Fridays from 10am - 2pm, when the very best op shop is open, I just can't sit still. No matter how fiercely I had resolved not to go op shopping that week, it's hopeless. I have to be otherwise occupied or I will end up at the op shop. And I will come home with a garbage bag full. I just can't help myself. Fortunately, this is an addiction that has very few unpleasant side effects - the only one that I can think of being the clutter, and the growing likelihood that I will end up as a case study on that Hoarders show - but a great number of wonderfully positive side effects. Charities are supported, and in turn, the needy are cared for. Landfill is diverted and consumerism