My friend and I often see sand dollars on the beach. Usually they are broken. This morning, a broken sand dollar seemed to have a tiny starfish, about 15mm across, inside it.
I have discovered that a sand dollar is a type of starfish, or part of the species called echinoderm which has five-part symmetry, and what you can see inside this one is its eating mechanism. They are dead by the time they wash up on the beach – a bleached exoskeleton – which is why you often see fragments rather than the whole thing.
This morning I placed the last piece of the jigsaw. I’m a bit sad to have finished; it was good to do while I listened to podcasts or music.
I made myself slow down so I didn’t finish it too soon. It was enjoyable to work on, mainly because it was about more than fitting shapes and colours together. It is bustling with people related to Jane Austen’s characters and settings, plus it includes scenes and family from Jane Austen’s own life. The brick house beside the yellow church is their home at Chawton and on the lawn is Jane Austen in blue, seated and writing, her sister Cassandra wielding a mop, niece Anna, brother Henry and her elderly mother seated with a pink shawl over her knees.
It could be that this is a puzzle to put away and eventually do again to reacquaint myself with the books and the characters. In the meantime, perhaps I’ll look for another literary jigsaw.
We’re having a run of those winter days: frosty mornings followed by sunny days. It’s too cold to sit for long in the egg chair, but it’s good to take its cover off and let it get some morning sun and fresh air.
The rhubarb is tucked up in a bed of pea straw, but continues to produce all winter. I seem to have inherited an all-year-round variety from the previous owners.
All day long the apple tree is visited by wax eyes and other hungry birds. We have harvested enough for ourselves and are happy to share the rest.
These wintry days are perfect for sitting in a sunny spot inside reading. At the moment, I’m up to the 12th book in a Veronica Heley series, with odd breaks for a chapter or two of A Travel Guide to the Middle Ages. Nothing compares to vicarious adventures and armchair travel through books!
I made the mistake of leaving my chair by the fire for a minute…
This is the same rascal this frosty morning checking out the jigsaw progress.
Unapologetic seems to describe him well.
We had a laugh at his expense this morning, however, as he inched his slithery way across the icy garage roof. It was a case of cat on a cold tin roof.
It’s great when persimmons come into season, usually in May. I look forward to them arriving in the local fruit and vege shop. On Monday there was not one to be found! It is the end of the persimmon season.
Fortunately, a crate of them was just being unloaded onto the shelf in the supermarket nearby. They are a bit soft now at the end of the season, but just right for cutting in half and eating with a teaspoon. I like the sunburst pattern inside the cut fruit. The taste is mild and slightly sweet, like vanilla and mango maybe, but like nothing else, just a persimmon.
I put the cup-shaped skin out on the bird feeder, although I’ve heard that some people eat persimmons as you would eat an apple, skin and all.
Keep the bedroom door shut, was the advice of a friend when I told her that Felix sometimes demands his breakfast at 2am. Last night I did that, but after a game of me chasing Felix chasing a mouse around the house after midnight. I picked Felix up, with the mouse in his mouth, and put them out the back door – but I think he might have dropped it before I got him outside. I shut the door to the bedrooms and went back to bed. Felix had the mouse, dead, in the sitting room in the morning.
There are no pictures with this post, but the one I can’t get out of my head is of the tiny mouse sitting with its front paws up, nose to nose with Felix as if protesting its fate.
He looks innocence itself, sitting in the sun behind my computer – but I know he chews my paintbrushes back there and that he is keeping an eye out for birds in the myrtle tree.
This evening, I found more evidence of his mischief.
The chooks will have to up their game if this jigsaw is to be completed successfully.
It’s Matariki and I’m seeing stars everywhere. There are gold stars on the top of the clock tower in Victoria Street. They glisten in the sunlight. I wonder who thought to add this light touch to the top of a solid Victorian monument. They go almost to the top of the decorative finial.
A tree near my house has star-shaped leaves which move in the wind as if they are twinkling like stars. The tree has spiky fruit. I noticed a tiny hanging nest high in the branches. It is smaller than a tennis ball.
At the beach, a driftwood sculpture seems to point to stars on the horizon.
I get out my Matariki book at this time of the year so that I can remember the significance of each star in the Matariki cluster. Some Māori celebrate this time of year as Puanga (Puaka in the south), watching for Puanga (Rigel) the brightest star in Orion which is visible slightly earlier than Matariki (Pleiades).
Matariki is a time of year to remember those who are no longer with us. I remember my good friend who showed me Pleiades and Orion in the clear night sky of Wānaka when we were teenagers.
Celebrating Matariki is a favourite time for me because it is special to this place – even though my book shows how it is celebrated around the world (the Subaru logo features the same cluster of stars). It is at the right time of the year for us in Aotearoa as the Earth turns towards the sun and the days get longer.
The Colombo is a small shopping mall with interesting retail shops and cafes. There are several empty spaces which have been taken over as a series of galleries by artist Philip Trusttum. Each gallery has a title, such as ‘Urban Kinesis’ and ‘Manufactured Whimsy’.
The art works are for sale. There were price lists inside each gallery. Eye-watering prices – and some works had sold.
I browsed in several shops, especially my favourite, Nordic Chill, and also Trade Aid which is open until October when it, sadly, goes online only. The Trade Aid chocolate maker is also closing, so I bought some of their dark raspberry chocolate while I still can. Perhaps the empty spaces taken over for art are a sign of the struggling small business retailer, like Trade Aid. I’m doing my best to make sure Nordic Chill doesn’t go under. I love their Icelandic socks.
At the end of the mall I was startled to find the sparkly, opulent, colourful shop of Annah Stretton, a NZ fashion designer. This is art, too. I hovered on the threshold but did not go in. Later, I discovered her strapline is: Any woman, any time. So much for that!
................... for lovers of ice cream. Your free on line magazine for sweet frozen treats. Recipes, inspiration, artisanal ideas for your delectation.
Anne-O-tations 