Post 412: the first of 2022

The first part of the week was hot in Adelaide - over 35C from Wednesday to Friday and 30C on the weekend. It's not unusual at this time of the year, and could be a lot worse. I don't enjoy the heat and was happy to spend most days inside with the aircon on low. 

It did make for some pleasing sunsets. 

Like much of the world, we are in the midst of an Omicron outbreak. Although the raw numbers in South Australia are not huge, 16558 active cases, 101 in hospital and 12 in ICU, this is high on a per-capita basis, and higher than at any other point in the pandemic. Testing demand has been so high that the definition of close contact has been modified and testing on arrival for interstate visitors removed.  There is considerable unease in the community. I, like most friends and family, are being ultra-cautious. Rapid antigen tests are in very short supply. I have managed to obtain a pack of 5 from Sydney which arrived today.

New Year's Eve fireworks were moved from the usual riverbank location to a smaller park with ticketed seating and controllable entrance and exit.  They are a fairly tame affair in Adelaide anyway. I was pleased with the move, because my view of the riverbank is blocked by high rise buildings, whereas  I have a view of the sky over Rymill Park, the new venue.

I enjoyed 8 minutes of fireworks at 9.30 and again at midnight. While waiting I watched the three episodes of the BBC's excellent Scotland from the Sky. It brought back memories of walking Roman roads and visiting many prehistoric sites when living in Scotland.

I discovered on Thursday that Christmas cards I had sent overseas on 30 November hadn't arrived yet, so I sent out an email version. I don't expect all my absent friends to send cards, but I love getting news from them at Christmas. Cards suit me because I love the medium of photographs with narrative and make my own.  I'm not fussy, however, about the medium in which I stay in touch with friends.  It's been lovely this week, between Christmas and New Year, to catch up with a number of friends by phone, email or social media. I've had lovely long conversations one way or another. That's hugely satisfying.

It can also be sad. Today a Christmas letter brought news of the death last year of a favourite NZ cousin of my mother's - not much older than me - who I met as a teenager. My mother (on bride's left) was at her wedding in England in 1966.

My only two excursions for the week were to family for dinner on Saturday night and to the optometrist on New Year's Eve. My eyes have improved significantly. I have now weaned myself from the steroid cream but need to continue the lubricant at least 6 times a day and the hot packs at least once. The condition, it seems, is genetic and treatment long-term. I also had the eye test for my driving licence and went straight to the Post Office, put it in a registered envelope and mailed it. I usually deliver it to a Government Service Centre but figured it wiser to trust the mail than mingle in a place where I would likely have to wait. 

One thing I accomplished at home was to organise the needle box my brother bought me at an auction. I am still looking for packets of needles in the various project bags and pouches I have but I can see how useful it will be to have a place where all the packets are together and visible.

There were about 40 packets of vintage machine needles in the box, mostly size 2 or 1, with a couple  1/2  and a 0. While I might try a couple in my machine, there are way too many for me to use in my lifetime. A dressmaking friend will find good use for them. We've agreed to meet up once there is less Covid circulating. 

In between conversations with friends and family, I've read several books, including some more research on the Celts and Anglo-Saxons for my WES workshop this year, and worked on a couple of pieces of embroidery. 

This is the next stage of the Hearts and Roses project. 

I need to complete six of these sides (left), six matching lining  pieces (right) and six inner pockets.

So far I've completed 3 sides and 3 lining pieces.

I've also worked on a mandala to cover some of the zipper holes on one of my tops. 

Mandalas make good grab and go projects and I plan to do a few more for other tops.

I've also watched the first and part of the second series of Brokenwood and, as a break, replayed the first of Ben Fogle's Scotland's Sacred Islands. which I love. When I was in my teens, I can remember a conversation about what I would be doing when I was 21. My father said, out of the blue, that if I had any sense I would be travelling in the Hebrides, the most beautiful place on earth. He didn't elaborate but it stuck with me. I didn't make it when I was 21, but when I was 25 and Jim and I worked in Scotland, I made sure we explored what we could of the Hebrides. We got to Skye, Mull, Iona, Harris, Lewis and Orkney. I haven't seen all the world, so don't know if my London-born father's assessment was accurate, but he was definitely on to something. Ben Fogle raises the concept of 'thin' places - where the 'real' and 'spiritual' worlds are close together. Or magic. I don't have a travel bucket list. The Hebrides, however, still call to me, or, as the song says are puttin' love on me.

This morning there was a crashing on the roof, signalling the return of the abseilers. They have covered my Vergola once again. This time they are painting the wall. It began too windy today to paint, but they have holes to plug. The plastic pipe seems to go into the gaps between the wall sheets. I'm hoping they will get most of their work done while I'm (hopefully) at Carrickalinga next week, assuming the Covid situation allows.