Post 539 Plants, Paintings and Patterns

My Zygocactuses, Schlumbergera truncata,  have burst into bloom this week. Hopefully the honey eaters will be spreading the seeds around. Known colloquially as Zygos in Australia, I understand these are called Christmas, Holiday or Thanksgiving Cactus in the northern hemisphere, for obvious reasons.

It was pretty quiet at the Guild on Wednesday, my first day as ‘hostess’. I took one phone call asking if the Guild ran Stumpwork classes, and helped one visitor find hoops to display her cross-stitching. Both are interested in membership and one at least, is likely to join. I handed the phone call over to the office manager, when the caller needed details. A lot of our time was spent talking about the breakdown of the Guild’s computer system. Fortunately a technician arrived with the hard drive restored to functionality (with a recommendation of replacement) so the back up, document restoration and financial reports could go ahead. A day of drama, if not much ‘hostessing’. 

I had taken a new flannel flower linen in a sitting hoop and my knitting. Since there was no audience of embroiderers, I stuck to my knitting, finishing 10 rows of pattern.

I had intended to follow the live stream of my UK cousin’s funeral at 7pm, but muddled my time. When I logged in at 7.30 it had finished. Fortunately the on-demand recording became available on Friday afternoon and I was able to watch.

I had my last Shingles vaccination on Thursday and also discussed at some length the nephrologist’s proposal that I take metformin to keep my blood sugar out of the pre-diabetes range. The GP, who has diabetes expertise, is not convinced the blood sugar reading is high enough to warrant medication, but we are going with it and have formulated a plan. If we can reach my weight goal, and blood sugar is under control, we will try withdrawing Metformin. We will monitor every 4 months with blood tests.  I went on to my Pilates class, where my instructor immediately swung behind the plan with changes to my program.

I am very happy with this, and began taking the medication the same day. As predicted, the Shingles shot gave me a sore arm, tiredness and mild aches. I had planned quite a few errands on Friday, but gave up after picking up some jewellery repairs and greengrocery. I did briefly examine a dress in TakingShape. It caught my eye online, but as I suspected, the style was very much not suited to my figure. It was, apparently, National Doughnut Day, and the shopping centre, in partnership with Dulwich Bakery,  was giving away 250 huge sprinkle doughnuts. The queue was out the door and along the footpath. I wasn’t even tempted. (Perhaps the metformin was working!). 

By the time I got home I was very tired so settled into reading Alice Robert’s Crypt. - and watched the funeral. My friend with pancreatic cancer managed to ring me to talk for a few minutes. She is in hospital, too ill to have visitors. 

It was a long weekend here for the King’s Birthday. Apart from dinner at Kilkenny, my plan was to spend it very quietly adjusting to metformin, keeping warm, reading, knitting and preparing my talk on Conversations with Baby Boomer Teachers for a U3A group in a fortnight. 

I finished Crypt around midday on Sunday. The near-useless black and white illustrations at the end of my Kindle version were by no means critical to my enjoyment, but very helpful when I checked them in colour on my iPad, I began to wonder whether I would  read more illustrated books electronically if the e-reader supported colour.. This led me to check where e-reader technology was up to, which spurred me to hang out the washing and head out to buy a Kobo Libra Colour. 

Since the shop was next to Bunnings, I of course also bought the replacement plants I was looking for, a lemon Zygo, 3 kalanchoe, a philodendron, lavender, nemesia, and a Wollemi pine. I have considered joining the conservation effort for the last since moving here, but was very uncertain about the chance of survival on an Adelaide balcony. I have not seen them for sale in Adelaide before. I figure if Bunnings is selling them in Adelaide there has to be a reasonable chance of growing them here. It is on my eastern balcony, where I can protect it from our hottest weather. 

All this reduced my knitting time and committed me to weekend   gardening.

It was overcast, but the rain held off on Monday when I planted on the eastern balcony, I was pleased with the result(left).

The western balcony needed more work today - emptying a few pots, repotting a couple and adding to others. It leaves me with a couple of empty pots to fill. I just got it finished and cleaned up before the rain set in (right).

Nick, the picture hanger, was meant to come at 2pm and I had parked my car in the street in case he couldn’t find a park. My ticket limit was 2.25. 

Unfortunately he was running an hour late. When I went to move my car the rain was bucketing down, and the space in front of my car was empty, so I moved into it. We did an efficient swap when he arrived around 3pm.

He did a professional, efficient job, hanging both Romas (right), level, in alignment with their surroundings. The Jacqueline Hick Widows now hangs alongside her Drover with Camp Dogs (above).  He then checked three things I had hung myself and rehung two of them. I’m delighted. It was great having him here. I suspect his views on COVID would not align with mine, but I will certainly call him if I need to hang more paintings.

While waiting for him to come I experimented with embroidering a single line figure on a knitted jumper in preparation for tomorrow's WES Group meeting. The detail is in my embroidery blog.

Although I’ve been wearing my left hand brace while knitting this weekend, I’m still feeling the arthritis in both thumb/wrist joints - partly, I suspect, a by-product of colour knitting, where thumbs are used to move the carried wool at each stitch. . While the hand physiotherapist I saw in 2009 has retired, it occurred to me that Grip Surgery, which I attended a year ago when I sliced open my thumb on a mandolin, might have hand physios. Sure enough, they have ‘hand therapists’. I now have an appointment for next Monday. 

The knitting, in spite of distractions is coming along. I'm almost up to the sleeve decrease on the second front. It looks huge, but meets pattern measurements. I guess, as an outer garment, it needs room to go over other clothes. I love its bold colours and pattern.  They stand in contrast to the delicacy of the Zygo.

So glad they are both in my world.

Post 483 Repair, restoration and rejoicing

Manage Falling Water

Wednesday's WES Group meeting, in spite of 5 apologies was highly successful. The 9 members present really took to Glazig embroidery. They were attracted to the texture of the stitches in particular. 

After the meeting I called at Bunnings to pick up some plants. I wanted something to put in my ruined saucepan. I settled on a Mangave Falling Water, which they had in abundance. I thought it would fill the pot.

It did - once I had managed to get it out of its container and disentangle at least a few of its roots.  I don't think I have ever bought such a pot-bound plant! Not good. I'm hoping I have untangled enough. I couldn't do much more without  a lot of damage.

I also bought a few small succulents, washed off their roots and replaced some of the cuttings I had put into clay beads. Some of the cuttings were still alive, but developing very, very slowly. 

I've saved them in one jar and will transplant them if and when they show more growth. 

I replaced a dead pelargonium with an aloe vera, and bought another air plant, this one on a fridge magnet.                                                                   

                          

When I went to hang the Jacqueline Hick painting I bought last Sunday I discovered the frame was badly damaged and held together at the bottom with paper tape. It looks as if it were dropped at some stage. It was displayed very low on the gallery wall - almost at floor level- and the damage was at the bottom. I'd have bought it anyway, but  feel the damage should have been made  explicit. 

The glass was likely to fall out, so on Thursday I took it to Jodie Primke - a restorative framer.  She has moved her business to the East End of the city from North Adelaide. I hesitated about whether to seek her out, or to use a cheaper and more convenient framer I've used before, but I'm glad I went with her. She was so astute, honest and pleasant to deal with. The frame is not, she thinks, original, but about 30 years old. She will repair it and replace the glass with a UV filtered one.

Back at home, my dishwasher displayed an 'Err 23" message and did not drain. I bailed out the water and did what I could, but decided not to detach the pipe myself, so called my plumbing company.  They could send someone the next afternoon, which meant cancelling stitching. When he arrived around 4pm, he cheerfully fixed it, along with a cistern half-flush that wouldn't stop filling - so good job jobbed  (and peace of mind).  At least part of the dishwasher problem appeared to be thread caught in the pump impeller (!). 

A conversation with the painters hanging down the back wall established they were finished with my balcony, so I spent a couple of hours getting it back to a useable state - moving, watering and trimming pot plants - and several more scrubbing shells and stones I keep in a dish of water. They were covered in green-black algae so I used a toothbrush to scrub each one individually. They are now looking clean and I'm hoping vinegar in the water will keep them so, although I doubt the doves will approve. 

I found them another dish with plain water.  On Sunday morning the current pair came to visit and explore. They ignored the new water dish, maybe because it was in the shade, spending most of their time exploring where the sun was penetrating.

They skirted the old bowl with its dash of vinegar, but were very taken by the Kalanchoe. 

I will keep an eye out to see if they use the new bowl. I may need to move it to a sunnier place. I am also going to paint the chair one day soon.

By the end of the day my sciatica  had kicked in - too much standing in one spot to scrub. I took the unusual step of going to bed early.

Sunday was Mother's Day, which I always acknowledged for my own mother, but declined for myself. Jim and I thought both Mothers' and Fathers' Days were commercial constructs that relegated parents to one day recognition rather than ongoing relationship. I still feel cynical about the hype but acknowledge the importance of a day when people gather and share. That was clearly happening all over the city as I made my way to my postponed stitching appointment. Susan was making her superb pasties and I came away with some for my dinner. A real treat!  

                                               

There was a lot to talk about at Monday's dinner. In addition to debriefing about the second round of parent-teacher interviews that afternoon for the two youngest granddaughters, Brigid, on her walk here from Uni,  witnessed an accident between a motorcycle, a car door and another car. She administered first aid until an ambulance and police arrived. Her Surf Life Saving training certainly gets put to use! It's a remarkable asset - and responsibility. 

I am making progress with her St Brigid jumper. I finished the first sleeve during the week and attached it to the back to see how it fitted together. The sleeve has a cable 'saddle' that runs along the shoulder.

I am now working on the front.      

Panayoula and I caught up for coffee this morning. Like a couple of other friends, she is off to see an orthopaedic surgeon to find out about a knee replacement. As an interim measure she's hoping for a quick fix to get her through a month of travel postponed because of Covid.                                         

The final story for the week is the gathering  of men in the Square as I was sitting on my balcony knitting in the sun on Saturday afternoon. I first heard singing and looked out to see a group of men standing (except for one in a wheelchair) with papers in their hands, singing. I couldn't make out the words or tune. When they sat down, I thought maybe it was a reunion of a football team, or old scholars.  However, after a while the singing recommenced and I wondered if it was needed  practice for a slightly off-key choir.  As it began to get cooler, I moved inside but left the door open. It was then I recognised Amazing Grace, followed by How Great Thou Art and The Lord's my Shepherd  - all unaccompanied but clear enough for me to sing along in my lounge room (with no chance at all of being heard!).

A little private worship in the park - no banners, publicity or proselytising. I am grateful for their singing this week and wish them well, whoever they are.