363/365
The duck pond
Showing posts with label Armidale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Armidale. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Saturday, January 10, 2015
10/365
Love's first baby cuddles with 18 month old Arie. It was a hot, humid afternoon, the kind of day where the air feels heavy and thick. Baby Love's wispy, fine hair became curly and matted, sticking to her warm skin near the nape of her neck. She giggled in my dear friend, Kate's arms, more than I have heard her giggle before. Her tiny sparkling eyes crinkled into half moons with her wide open grin and in the corner of each cheek we began to see the faintest hint of dimples as Arie and her elder sister, Indie looked on in curious wonder. Oh how I love to hear the sound of happy babes.
In the late afternoon we stood on the porch looking back over rich green pasture where Kate's cows stood together, grazing slowly. In the distance, dark clouds rolled over the town and a dense sheet of rain began to fall, like a curtain cloaking the countryside. With the refreshing scent of the approaching rain, Kate and I hugged each other goodbye before bundling our daughters into our cars and heading our separate ways.
Byron, Love and I headed into town, where we waited in the carpark of a local Thai restaurant for our takeaway. I fed Love in the backseat as the heavy downpour drummed against the roof and windows. On the way home, the scent of our takeaway meal wafted throughout the car, causing our stomachs to grumble. The showers stopped suddenly leaving behind glossy wet foliage in the trees that lined the streets and a layer of ground mist rising from the road.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
3/365
One of my darlings is a morning person. Despite the long night and a belly ache that wouldn't quit (it reminded me immediately of contractions), we rose with the sun and her gorgeous smiling face.
Later, we caught up with a dear friend of mine from my uni days. I met her husband, nine month old son and four year old daughter. Together, we filled a sheet of butchers paper with colourful faces, trains, crowns and swirls.
Our colouring, comfortable chatter and tea drinking was only interrupted by baby aeroplane games.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Thursday, May 31, 2012
An Autumn Wedding
On a stunning Autumn day I travelled to a quaint winery in the heart of the golden New England countryside for the wedding of my dear friends Stacey and Robbie.
Trees ablaze with leaves in vibrant red, warm orange and Autumn green lined the gravel driveway to the guesthouse. My tyres made a soft crunching sound as I quietly parked my car after an achingly long journey from the city.
The ceremony took place in the beautifully manicured gardens of Peterson's Winery, where I witnessed rows of dark timber chairs lined up in wide arcs surrounding the bridal party.
Not long after I arrived, rain fell briefly before the sunshine broke through the dark clouds in proud rays, enhancing every colour as far as the eye could see.
Nature's confetti showered down in the form of rich amber leaves as the happy couple were photographed nearby on the soft grass.
Stacey and I met through the local newspaper, where she had advertised her spare room for rent during my second year of university. We were both twenty years of age and it was my first time living away from home or the confines of student accommodation at the university apartments. I was immediately struck by the spacious size of her home, the welcoming country furniture and ornate metal sculptures of long, lean dancers.
The house itself was fairly old but had barely been lived in and was kept immaculately clean by Stacey and her then boyfriend (now husband), Robbie, whom I met later. Stacey and I realised barely minutes into my 'housemate interview' that we had both lived in the same town during our senior high school years, though we attended rival schools and worked in rival jewellery stores. Further to this coincidence, we were both currently enrolled at the same university and had taken up part-time jobs in town for separate jewellery stores, again. Robbie transported heavy loads in semi-trailers over long distances between Brisbane and Melbourne, so he was away a lot of the time so I had plenty of time to get to know Stacey.
For the next few months we grew to become close friends, we laughed at the same jokes, cooked at home together, wore facial mud masks during girlie nights in, and allocated specific weeknights to watching The Amazing Race with a bottle of wine. We both criticised or 'bagged out' The Bachelor for obvious reasons, despite finding ourselves watching it together on several occasions (predictable nonsense, yet captivating after two glasses of red). We even had a dark laugh at Stacey's wedding about the unfortunate 'humane mouse trap' she had purchased to capture the small, sneaky nocturnal flour bag muncher that terrorised us for weeks during the winter time. We figured the humane mouse trap operated on a catch-and-release principle, that was until one day I returned home to find a trail of black ants leading out of the mouse trap and discovered the finest print EVER possible actually stated, 'Human Mouse Trap. Kills one Mouse'. We were pretty down about that for a while, I think we even had a bottle of wine one night to drown our mouse murdering sorrows but now we can see a little bit of humour in it (ALWAYS read the fine print).
As house mates we studied, and saved like crazy. Stacey saved for a house and new car, whilst I madly saved for my first trip to Europe, which I embarked on several months after my twenty-first birthday. It was at this time that Stacey, Robbie and myself sadly parted ways for a while. Stace always sends me a text message on my birthday and a few years they've made the trip to my house for Christmas lunch. Good friends are like diamonds, hard to find, precious and worth so much you can't bear to lose them.
It was such a privilege for me to join them for their wedding, and to crash this wedding photo...
Once a break in the sky appeared following the light rain, the bridesmaids gathered Stacey's dress and the five of them tip-toped across the wet grass for more photo opportunities, destined for the future wedding album.
I loved watching the bridesmaids giggle like young girls as they watched the bride and groom laugh throughout their wedding portraits.
Meanwhile, guests dined on h'orderves, small sweet pumpkin quiches and tiny pancakes covered with cream cheese flavoured with dill and topped with salty pink salmon.
Before the afternoon sun dipped lower in the golden sky, guests sipped wine by the welcoming fire in The Cellar Door, which had been restored from the horse stables and I snuck into the dining room to capture a few pictures of the elegant, handmade decorations.
Ornate table numbers had been carefully created by Stacey's mother from pearly pastel coloured buttons...
Clear, cool glass bottles of every imaginable shape and size were arranged in elegant groups on the table. Each bottle contained a single freshly cut green stem topped with white roses...
The soft peppermint coloured white chocolate and berry wedding cake stood impressively atop a small table at the end of the hall and was adorned with white butterflies, strings of beads made from icing and a delicate edible flower arrangement that looked so soft and fragile that I wasn't sure if we should eat it or admire it for hours.
The bride wore an ivory antique gown, covered in the finest lace and carefully tailored by Stacey's mother to feature the addition of delicate lace sleeves.
The bouquets was fashioned from material flowers and antique brooches that had been collected with the bridal bouquet creation specifically in mind.
The wedding party gathered around the expansive covered verandah that wrapped around the beautiful guesthouse waiting patiently for another light shower to ease before Stacey and Robbie posed for their first toast as husband and wife.
As the chilly late afternoon air silently crept around us, I returned to the verandah to admire the white cane chairs and broad timber floors.
White lace parasols, momentarily forgotten by the bridesmaids leaned gingerly against a brick wall beside an antique suitcase near the doors of the elegant dining hall.
In a final impressive burst of light, the last of the sun's rays danced through the French windows at the end of the verandah and with this in mind, I made a dash for the old tree by The Cellar Door to capture some final images of the amber leaves before the freezing, inky black night air enveloped the vineyard.
After a short while I could not bare the cold any longer without my icy fingers shaking and my lips changing a faint tint of blue. I skipped back to the dining hall to be welcomed by the flickering red flames of a roaring fire in the old fireplace beside our dining table.
The gentle hum of the conversations around us filled the dining hall with a friendly ambience, that was better enhanced by the soft flicker of candlelight.
For my main, I dined on crispy pork belly, served on a bed of sweet caramelised onion and beets and soft seared scallops, fresh from the sea.
It was a long day for some...
For dessert the wedding cake was served on shiny white plates. My generous slice was moist and sweet and accompanied by a dark berry sauce, which was softened by a cool spoonful of vanilla bean cream.
We danced into the early hours of the morning, until I sleepily embraced the happy couple and parted ways.
What a wonderful Autumn day to spend with dear friends and not a minute too soon to share with you as it will be Winter as soon as tomorrow.
I wonder what sweet Winter delights I will cook this year?
Meet you back here soon...
Bella xx
Trees ablaze with leaves in vibrant red, warm orange and Autumn green lined the gravel driveway to the guesthouse. My tyres made a soft crunching sound as I quietly parked my car after an achingly long journey from the city.
The ceremony took place in the beautifully manicured gardens of Peterson's Winery, where I witnessed rows of dark timber chairs lined up in wide arcs surrounding the bridal party.
Not long after I arrived, rain fell briefly before the sunshine broke through the dark clouds in proud rays, enhancing every colour as far as the eye could see.
Nature's confetti showered down in the form of rich amber leaves as the happy couple were photographed nearby on the soft grass.
Stacey and I met through the local newspaper, where she had advertised her spare room for rent during my second year of university. We were both twenty years of age and it was my first time living away from home or the confines of student accommodation at the university apartments. I was immediately struck by the spacious size of her home, the welcoming country furniture and ornate metal sculptures of long, lean dancers.
The house itself was fairly old but had barely been lived in and was kept immaculately clean by Stacey and her then boyfriend (now husband), Robbie, whom I met later. Stacey and I realised barely minutes into my 'housemate interview' that we had both lived in the same town during our senior high school years, though we attended rival schools and worked in rival jewellery stores. Further to this coincidence, we were both currently enrolled at the same university and had taken up part-time jobs in town for separate jewellery stores, again. Robbie transported heavy loads in semi-trailers over long distances between Brisbane and Melbourne, so he was away a lot of the time so I had plenty of time to get to know Stacey.
For the next few months we grew to become close friends, we laughed at the same jokes, cooked at home together, wore facial mud masks during girlie nights in, and allocated specific weeknights to watching The Amazing Race with a bottle of wine. We both criticised or 'bagged out' The Bachelor for obvious reasons, despite finding ourselves watching it together on several occasions (predictable nonsense, yet captivating after two glasses of red). We even had a dark laugh at Stacey's wedding about the unfortunate 'humane mouse trap' she had purchased to capture the small, sneaky nocturnal flour bag muncher that terrorised us for weeks during the winter time. We figured the humane mouse trap operated on a catch-and-release principle, that was until one day I returned home to find a trail of black ants leading out of the mouse trap and discovered the finest print EVER possible actually stated, 'Human Mouse Trap. Kills one Mouse'. We were pretty down about that for a while, I think we even had a bottle of wine one night to drown our mouse murdering sorrows but now we can see a little bit of humour in it (ALWAYS read the fine print).
As house mates we studied, and saved like crazy. Stacey saved for a house and new car, whilst I madly saved for my first trip to Europe, which I embarked on several months after my twenty-first birthday. It was at this time that Stacey, Robbie and myself sadly parted ways for a while. Stace always sends me a text message on my birthday and a few years they've made the trip to my house for Christmas lunch. Good friends are like diamonds, hard to find, precious and worth so much you can't bear to lose them.
It was such a privilege for me to join them for their wedding, and to crash this wedding photo...
Once a break in the sky appeared following the light rain, the bridesmaids gathered Stacey's dress and the five of them tip-toped across the wet grass for more photo opportunities, destined for the future wedding album.
I loved watching the bridesmaids giggle like young girls as they watched the bride and groom laugh throughout their wedding portraits.
Meanwhile, guests dined on h'orderves, small sweet pumpkin quiches and tiny pancakes covered with cream cheese flavoured with dill and topped with salty pink salmon.
Before the afternoon sun dipped lower in the golden sky, guests sipped wine by the welcoming fire in The Cellar Door, which had been restored from the horse stables and I snuck into the dining room to capture a few pictures of the elegant, handmade decorations.
Ornate table numbers had been carefully created by Stacey's mother from pearly pastel coloured buttons...
Clear, cool glass bottles of every imaginable shape and size were arranged in elegant groups on the table. Each bottle contained a single freshly cut green stem topped with white roses...
The soft peppermint coloured white chocolate and berry wedding cake stood impressively atop a small table at the end of the hall and was adorned with white butterflies, strings of beads made from icing and a delicate edible flower arrangement that looked so soft and fragile that I wasn't sure if we should eat it or admire it for hours.
The bride wore an ivory antique gown, covered in the finest lace and carefully tailored by Stacey's mother to feature the addition of delicate lace sleeves.
The bouquets was fashioned from material flowers and antique brooches that had been collected with the bridal bouquet creation specifically in mind.
The wedding party gathered around the expansive covered verandah that wrapped around the beautiful guesthouse waiting patiently for another light shower to ease before Stacey and Robbie posed for their first toast as husband and wife.
As the chilly late afternoon air silently crept around us, I returned to the verandah to admire the white cane chairs and broad timber floors.
White lace parasols, momentarily forgotten by the bridesmaids leaned gingerly against a brick wall beside an antique suitcase near the doors of the elegant dining hall.
In a final impressive burst of light, the last of the sun's rays danced through the French windows at the end of the verandah and with this in mind, I made a dash for the old tree by The Cellar Door to capture some final images of the amber leaves before the freezing, inky black night air enveloped the vineyard.
After a short while I could not bare the cold any longer without my icy fingers shaking and my lips changing a faint tint of blue. I skipped back to the dining hall to be welcomed by the flickering red flames of a roaring fire in the old fireplace beside our dining table.
The gentle hum of the conversations around us filled the dining hall with a friendly ambience, that was better enhanced by the soft flicker of candlelight.
For my main, I dined on crispy pork belly, served on a bed of sweet caramelised onion and beets and soft seared scallops, fresh from the sea.
It was a long day for some...
For dessert the wedding cake was served on shiny white plates. My generous slice was moist and sweet and accompanied by a dark berry sauce, which was softened by a cool spoonful of vanilla bean cream.
We danced into the early hours of the morning, until I sleepily embraced the happy couple and parted ways.
What a wonderful Autumn day to spend with dear friends and not a minute too soon to share with you as it will be Winter as soon as tomorrow.
I wonder what sweet Winter delights I will cook this year?
Meet you back here soon...
Bella xx
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Autumn Pondering
I used to live in a share house in the city. It was a very old terrace house full of character and odd people from various countries and walks of life.
In this share house stood a lonely, out-of-tune piano, piled high with an assortment of items, including an out-of-date stereo with a broken volume dial, some crackly speakers, second-hand vinyl records, a stuffed rabbit with an eye-patch that had long since fallen off and a tool used for tightening skateboard trucks.
Almost a year ago I walked out of the front door of that sad old house to enjoy a warm day in the golden Autumn sun. For the life of me I cannot recall what else I did on this day apart from one tiny, seemingly insignificant detail...
I swung open the heavy front wooden door, stepped out of the rusted, creaky front gate and strolled up the street towards the city.
In the city the autumn hues are sometimes overlooked in the context of large buildings and wide, busy streets. However, it was on this morning, during my stroll that I recalled one of the things I missed most from my days as an eager student in my university town of Armidale... A road.
Elm Avenue is a perfectly picturesque street, lined with deciduous English Elm trees that border the quiet bitumen road that leads to the university. At the beginning of Autumn every year, the luscious green leaves of the trees of Elm Avenue would transform into shades of bright ruby, before fading to lighter golden hues and fluttering gently to the earth with the slightest gust of cool wind from the mountains.
I count myself amongst one of the city residents, preoccupied with work and more work, who initially failed to notice the beauty of a small, autumn tree on my street at the beginning of it's transformation from vibrant green to red, and finally a stark skeleton, bearing no foliage at all. Luckily for me though, I happened upon it on my Autumn stroll on that quiet morning.
This small, beautiful tree reminded me that no matter what kind of day I had at work, no matter why kind of 'storm-in-a-teacup' issue was plaguing the share house, and no matter what kind of insignificant issue I was bothered by in terms of my career, there is beauty to beheld in the most unlikely of places.
On a tiny, crooked street, opposite an asian food store, a cafe, a church I had never before heard of and amongst a crowd of fuzzy people I might never see again in my life stood this remarkable little wonder of nature.
When you think about it, life does not have to be as complicated as we make it.
Bella xx
In this share house stood a lonely, out-of-tune piano, piled high with an assortment of items, including an out-of-date stereo with a broken volume dial, some crackly speakers, second-hand vinyl records, a stuffed rabbit with an eye-patch that had long since fallen off and a tool used for tightening skateboard trucks.
Almost a year ago I walked out of the front door of that sad old house to enjoy a warm day in the golden Autumn sun. For the life of me I cannot recall what else I did on this day apart from one tiny, seemingly insignificant detail...
I swung open the heavy front wooden door, stepped out of the rusted, creaky front gate and strolled up the street towards the city.
In the city the autumn hues are sometimes overlooked in the context of large buildings and wide, busy streets. However, it was on this morning, during my stroll that I recalled one of the things I missed most from my days as an eager student in my university town of Armidale... A road.
Elm Avenue is a perfectly picturesque street, lined with deciduous English Elm trees that border the quiet bitumen road that leads to the university. At the beginning of Autumn every year, the luscious green leaves of the trees of Elm Avenue would transform into shades of bright ruby, before fading to lighter golden hues and fluttering gently to the earth with the slightest gust of cool wind from the mountains.
I count myself amongst one of the city residents, preoccupied with work and more work, who initially failed to notice the beauty of a small, autumn tree on my street at the beginning of it's transformation from vibrant green to red, and finally a stark skeleton, bearing no foliage at all. Luckily for me though, I happened upon it on my Autumn stroll on that quiet morning.
This small, beautiful tree reminded me that no matter what kind of day I had at work, no matter why kind of 'storm-in-a-teacup' issue was plaguing the share house, and no matter what kind of insignificant issue I was bothered by in terms of my career, there is beauty to beheld in the most unlikely of places.
On a tiny, crooked street, opposite an asian food store, a cafe, a church I had never before heard of and amongst a crowd of fuzzy people I might never see again in my life stood this remarkable little wonder of nature.
When you think about it, life does not have to be as complicated as we make it.
Bella xx
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Counting Sheep in Sydney in the Spring Time
Where to begin? Sometime ago we reset our mechanical clocks one hour forwards. The hour of sleep I struggled with losing was strangely difficult for my body clock to adjust to but is a small price to pay for the extra hour of sunlight I have gained with each new day- And it is a personal gain as I feel wonderful when I wake up now.
I’ve spent a great deal of time travelling to see friends in various locations over the past five months since moving to this busy metropolis and the long days have certainly played havoc on my sleep bank account. Debit, debit, oops you’ve overdrawn… Those closest to me may have noticed I have become a little grouchy when tired but a note to you dear people: I am aware of it now and have taken measures to ensure Bubbly Bella is back and is here to stay. Earlier to bed, swimming and walking to work to ensure I am actually tired when my active mind hits my pillow- Oh and I’ve brought my bed back from sleepy Armidale… I can almost see my sleep account growing, by one jumping woolly sheep* at a time.
* I could easily substitute woolly sheep for Maximilian, my nocturnal cat who tends to perform running laps of my bedroom until I evict him around 2am. Maxi made the arduous journey with me in the car to Sydney last weekend with my good friend Mitch, to whom I owe a very big ‘Thank You’ for assisting with the move. Thank you, Mitch :o).
In other Bella news I thought I would update with a few pictures.
Remember when I mentioned I was going to visit the photo booth? Well here are some of the pictures from that day…
My beautiful friends Tim and Michael..
It was seriously cramped in that tiny photo booth, and YES, we are having as much fun as it looks like we're having...
These are some highlights from last weekend in Armidale when we visited the gorgeous Blue Hole…
Here are Tshiamo and Erin enjoying the picnic we brought down the hill with us...
The boulders at Blue Hole..I'm standing in the middle...
…And these pictures follow on from our harbour side visit to my sunny hometown. Ahh the memories- both from that weekend and my happy childhood.
Here I am captured in time by my good friend Stewart Hayes, looking at fossilised shells near Lake Tabourie..we were later stranded on this island when the tide came in.
We collected driftwood sticks for a fire...
Here I have captured Stew and Tim discussing some of life's mysteries on our tiny island around the blazing fire...
The next day at the harbour side market with some second-hand tools Tim purchased.
A BIG thank you to Stewart and Jade for their photos, mixed in amongst those from the photo booth and my own. I hope you have enjoyed the different photographic styles.
Right now I am going to stretch (never underestimate the value of a long stretch when you get out of your massive pillow-top bed- Bliss!) and I am going to make crepes for my French girlfriend Audrey (Read: adopted sister), whom I collected from a 21 hour flight from Paris, via Seoul yesterday morning (seriously, where does she get her energy from?).
Oh heck: I forgot to update the food portion of my blog!
Yesterday I made Greek green lentil soup and we enjoyed it after taking a long sun-drenched stroll around the Sydney Harbour foreshore. I also made Minestrone Primavera for lunch today and pizza dough ala Uncle Rudi Valentino’s Italian recipe for pizzas. I will make one pizza bianco and another with Spanish chorizo, tomato and chilli**.
This afternoon we will venture over to the annual Glebe Street Fair. Stay tuned for more exciting stories and a picture or two..
** Sadly in this blog post there are no food pictures as my new camera has a corrupted memory disk and I am too poor to replace it just yet ha ha! Sad but true and who wants to look at green lentil soup anyway? It tastes like a Greek dream but looks like green mush... To appease your interest in the Italian recipes, feel free to look up Franco Leoni’s Italian cookbook. The recipes are simple, yet mouth-wateringly delicious and you will not be disappointed.
Buon Appetito…or with my French company in mind, Bon Appétit!
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