Sun setting across the Brisbane River, viewed from Brew Dog Tap Room, Murarrie, Queensland, Australia.
Once upon a time, in a sleepy street, near the brow of a hill, stood a single storey red brick cottage, bordered by hardy grassed paths.
The owner loved the home so much, they attached a sturdy white wrought iron bracket. Suspended beneath by two rings, a white oblong marker declared the house’s location.
Being a fan of swashbuckling heroes, the chosen placque featured a galleon, perpetually travelling the oceans at full sail.
Many a long year did that building provide shelter and comfort to its inhabitants. While number 37 gently swayed in the breeze.
Being but five kilometres from the city, the growing populace demanded increased housing density. Standalone dwellings were gradually consumed by multi-storey, hemmed in developments.
Today a refurbished ship 37 voyages upon a shiny new ‘boutique’ apartment block.
Hawthorne Road, Hawthorne, Queensland, Australia
Sunlight illuminates the Christmas in July, down under lunch table, Morningside, Queensland, Australia.
How smug I once was, and will be again, I’m sure. Liking to think I was lithe at forty and poo-pooing physiotherapy. Even when I injured my shoulder, lifting weights for vanity’s sake. Other injuries and increasingly sedentary work roles followed.
Fighting the flab in my fifties almost seems too hard a battle to even try to win. I know investment in my health is required to smooth the passage through my twilight years. I’m still working out when they start.
Ten months into a role in supporting injured workers through their rehabilitation has opened my eyes, personally and professionally, to the miracle work of the physiotherapist.
Most recently, I applaud the weekly direction of an exercise physiologist. Damian is teaching me how to get up off the floor without using my hands. Also, how to exercise again starting with Bird Dog*. I believed my decrepitude, dwindling willpower, and self motivation had reached the point of no return, apparently not. I always perform best when I’m doing something for someone other than myself.
Avoiding the scales during the covid crisis, exercising less, and overindulging has resulted in a weight gain of five kilos. My weigh-in, a personal best of 99 kg, 218 lb or 15st 8lb 5oz, what a pity I’m not 2 metres tall. Humpty Dumpty is my pin up goal, now my waist measures 114cm, almost 45”. A 4XL teeshirt is so comfy these day, especially on a beach with Stan.
Time, they say, will tell how and where this doubting Thomas will end up.
*The Bird Dog is a go-to move for stabilizing and strengthening your shoulders, core, and low back. Well-known for simultaneously engaging the shoulders, abdominals, lower back, gluteal, and thigh muscles.
After three months’ working from home, a routine has developed. Starting work around 7 am, morning tea at 10:30, one hour for lunch at 1 pm, and finishing around 4pm.
The path to this regimen was at times bumpy. Reflecting on it now, I realise the journey is a text book example of the only group development model I can remember; ‘forming-storming-norming-performing’*.
My husband and I each had practises in place. Our daily lives, like so many worldwide, changed. Without even thinking about it, we began boundary setting and melding timetables, through negotiation.
The lunch hour is when we both switch off and take Stan for a walk. Together, we have found alternatives to trudging suburban streets.
One extended route takes us through a community garden, down quiet tree lined streets, along a pedestrian path bridging a narrow creek, and into a quiet lane with horse paddocks.
The red bloom image above, reminds me of a Passion flower, taken on one of our walks. Below, palms, skies and a Queenslander house.
*Bruce Tuckman, 1965
Golden Autumnal rays
Enhanced hues, pink and green
Nature upon the lily pond plays
Creating a Monet painting scene
Queensland slightly relaxed isolation rules at the weekend. We took to the river, rather than the road. We felt spoilt, a CityCat ferry ride, a walk along the boardwalk in the Autumn sunshine, followed by a picnic in the Botanical Gardens.
The afternoon light, playing on the dome of Customs House, caught my eye.
Since posting a recipe for sourdough bread in 2014, I have lost count of the number of loaves made. Over the years, I have tweaked the proving times, the timing of the knocking back stage, ditched the sourdough starter, and tried different flours.
Using 1/4 teaspoon of active dried yeast and Laucke Crusty White Bread Mix (flour and salt), this loaf is the largest yet. It was achieved by proving for 24 hours in the fridge followed by 12 hours at room temperature. A gentle knock back as described in the amended recipe below and baking for 30 + 15 minutes.
Fruitful or less service to universe, race, self?
Resources used wisely or squandered?
Desultory paths wandered with intent or not?
Sands silently stop
Waiting for the all encompassing corruption, subsumption
Contributions ultimately forgotten or turn to dust
Future kind dig, discover, analyse remains
Content of past lives being hypothesised
Perché, pam, why?