Sweet September Days
The rains were so heavy just before dawn. I felt - and heard - the rush of this passing overhead sensation just outside my bedroom window, just as September wound down from a busy but rewarding series of encounters, celebrations and meet ups.
A return to weet bix squares came foremost to my mind. For several days, Vinu from California was having them very breakfast morning. I realised how I took this unique Aussie product for granted over on this side of the Pacific. Then I thought of Rosie, the ultra friendly doggy who came to greet the group of us who came from various corners of the globe to stay at a Henley townhouse in Sydney. Rosie lifted her paws in such a benign and captivating manner to you, locked her persona inside your heart and that could not be easily forgotten.
I always in the past had a bunch of keys for which I did not know what they were mostly for. Now I can reckon where all of these keys lead to in my sphere of things. The trick was in paying attention to the things that matter - and getting organised. Just like cousin Nancee taking leadership and effort to gently but effectively coordinate all of us residing at Henley like in a fraternity house. We were there, gathered for a wedding.
A recent computer virus experience made me miss the thrill of downloading images on to my internet records. I had hitherto had the pleasure of organising, collating and downloading such images as soon as they were captured. It had been a sudden empty feeling when this technical matter prevented me from doing so - but then the time subsequently freed me up for other things, like simple reading, taking up the advice of a dear lady colleague at work on how to get glass sparkling clean windows and watching how fat the sucking cat fish had grown in my home aquarium tanks. Delight in other forms of detail.
A couple from the Nowra area had a stall full of potted rubberball plants at my workplace one weekday - they were leafy specimens in pots of flashy colours and terracotta. What caught my eye was the attentive way they engaged with their customers, potential and actual. They easily highlighted the advantages these versatile plants offered, but also reminded us of the still necessary care and things these plants deserved. They sat there quiet otherwise, but I did realise that they had a strategy in approaching - and convincing customers - in a rather still pleasant manner.
On another occasion, outside my office building, a cheery Indian young man from Kenya drew a drum for me, added my first name and then gave a final touch of an outline of his nation's official flag. I acknowledged that he is an international student, bat the same time I realised that he is not of African origin. Nevertheless, he displayed his commitment to the country of his birth - and did it indirectly, in a humorous way and through the expression of drawing.
Il Nido's Adrian was back from Canada, and I was heartened to see him again. Adrian was beaming with his usual friendliness and attention, a trait perhaps infused over from the natural engagement of his parents with customers. Uncle Yeow Tat, another cousin Kheng Chye, together with Nancee and her husband Vinu, had joined me for dinner in my village, nestled below the Illawarra Escarpment, on a spring evening. I could not resist the pasta with seafood, the light sauced gravy being the key to this delightful dish from a family run experience.
Batemans Bay showed signs of money from the nation's capital just over two and a half hours drive away.
When we arrived in town, both the sky and surrounding waters had the same intensity of spring blue. I particularly liked Batehaven, with its varying character in sand and shore. We had caught a fish and chips lunch a bit north in Ulladulla, beside the river wharf. The meal was especially graced by friendly staff at the cafe at the end of the boardwalk. The high level of water seen at the bridge crossing at nearby Burrill Lakes never fail to fascinate me, although I have never crossed that spot on a rainy day.
Jervis Bay National Park seemed to lack the required level of signage. My entourage ended up in different corners of the reserve, but not what we had hoped and anticipated. Its wind swept slopes leading to different bays ensured native vegetation that were levelled by the open ocean winds. We did reach an indigenous post with cottages and an air of community.
The excursion to Batemans had begun with a leisurely breakfast and stroll in Gerringong Village. I found the banana bread there moist inside a crispy bite, reminding me of the childhood waffle pancake known as ban chien kueh in South-east Asia. (Refer to The Making of Ban Chien Kueh in an earlier blog write-up). This day trip had then taken us along the coastal drive to stunning Mollymook Beach via Nowra and Milton. We were just skirting down half-way along the NSW South Coast, on the winding but scenic route to Bega and ultimately, Victoria State.
What a remarkable few days, for the few of us, who normally do not get to see each other, to share a trip. Back in my Balgownie house, we chatted about family connections, the past and the future. It reminded me of being able to walk together on another Sunday with young Caitlin in campus recently, as she observed the ducks and native Australian birds - while at the same time wondering about the promised rabbits that I suggested. We enjoyed that moment, with her parents and sister Ash in tow, but I also sensed the hope of the future for her whilst reflecting in the solidity of past efforts of her family to raise her.
On yet another September day, Scott the plumber came to my house on time, unlike some other tradepersons, in his standard symbol cap and with smiling eyes. The main kitchen sink had its catridge broken after several years of use. The broken part could be viewed as a potential significant vulnerable spot, considering its high usage before and after cooking sessions. Some white goods are not made as solidly as years before, yet others tick on without much fuss and demand. Mechanical interfaces are on a predictable repair or replacement schedule, so when they ask for attention, our sub-conscious accepts their happening. This brings to mind the motor that powers the opening of the double garage door twice a day. Oh yes, the attention to detail - and getting organised.
A return to weet bix squares came foremost to my mind. For several days, Vinu from California was having them very breakfast morning. I realised how I took this unique Aussie product for granted over on this side of the Pacific. Then I thought of Rosie, the ultra friendly doggy who came to greet the group of us who came from various corners of the globe to stay at a Henley townhouse in Sydney. Rosie lifted her paws in such a benign and captivating manner to you, locked her persona inside your heart and that could not be easily forgotten.
I always in the past had a bunch of keys for which I did not know what they were mostly for. Now I can reckon where all of these keys lead to in my sphere of things. The trick was in paying attention to the things that matter - and getting organised. Just like cousin Nancee taking leadership and effort to gently but effectively coordinate all of us residing at Henley like in a fraternity house. We were there, gathered for a wedding.
A recent computer virus experience made me miss the thrill of downloading images on to my internet records. I had hitherto had the pleasure of organising, collating and downloading such images as soon as they were captured. It had been a sudden empty feeling when this technical matter prevented me from doing so - but then the time subsequently freed me up for other things, like simple reading, taking up the advice of a dear lady colleague at work on how to get glass sparkling clean windows and watching how fat the sucking cat fish had grown in my home aquarium tanks. Delight in other forms of detail.
A couple from the Nowra area had a stall full of potted rubberball plants at my workplace one weekday - they were leafy specimens in pots of flashy colours and terracotta. What caught my eye was the attentive way they engaged with their customers, potential and actual. They easily highlighted the advantages these versatile plants offered, but also reminded us of the still necessary care and things these plants deserved. They sat there quiet otherwise, but I did realise that they had a strategy in approaching - and convincing customers - in a rather still pleasant manner.
On another occasion, outside my office building, a cheery Indian young man from Kenya drew a drum for me, added my first name and then gave a final touch of an outline of his nation's official flag. I acknowledged that he is an international student, bat the same time I realised that he is not of African origin. Nevertheless, he displayed his commitment to the country of his birth - and did it indirectly, in a humorous way and through the expression of drawing.
Il Nido's Adrian was back from Canada, and I was heartened to see him again. Adrian was beaming with his usual friendliness and attention, a trait perhaps infused over from the natural engagement of his parents with customers. Uncle Yeow Tat, another cousin Kheng Chye, together with Nancee and her husband Vinu, had joined me for dinner in my village, nestled below the Illawarra Escarpment, on a spring evening. I could not resist the pasta with seafood, the light sauced gravy being the key to this delightful dish from a family run experience.
Batemans Bay showed signs of money from the nation's capital just over two and a half hours drive away.
When we arrived in town, both the sky and surrounding waters had the same intensity of spring blue. I particularly liked Batehaven, with its varying character in sand and shore. We had caught a fish and chips lunch a bit north in Ulladulla, beside the river wharf. The meal was especially graced by friendly staff at the cafe at the end of the boardwalk. The high level of water seen at the bridge crossing at nearby Burrill Lakes never fail to fascinate me, although I have never crossed that spot on a rainy day.
Jervis Bay National Park seemed to lack the required level of signage. My entourage ended up in different corners of the reserve, but not what we had hoped and anticipated. Its wind swept slopes leading to different bays ensured native vegetation that were levelled by the open ocean winds. We did reach an indigenous post with cottages and an air of community.
The excursion to Batemans had begun with a leisurely breakfast and stroll in Gerringong Village. I found the banana bread there moist inside a crispy bite, reminding me of the childhood waffle pancake known as ban chien kueh in South-east Asia. (Refer to The Making of Ban Chien Kueh in an earlier blog write-up). This day trip had then taken us along the coastal drive to stunning Mollymook Beach via Nowra and Milton. We were just skirting down half-way along the NSW South Coast, on the winding but scenic route to Bega and ultimately, Victoria State.
What a remarkable few days, for the few of us, who normally do not get to see each other, to share a trip. Back in my Balgownie house, we chatted about family connections, the past and the future. It reminded me of being able to walk together on another Sunday with young Caitlin in campus recently, as she observed the ducks and native Australian birds - while at the same time wondering about the promised rabbits that I suggested. We enjoyed that moment, with her parents and sister Ash in tow, but I also sensed the hope of the future for her whilst reflecting in the solidity of past efforts of her family to raise her.
On yet another September day, Scott the plumber came to my house on time, unlike some other tradepersons, in his standard symbol cap and with smiling eyes. The main kitchen sink had its catridge broken after several years of use. The broken part could be viewed as a potential significant vulnerable spot, considering its high usage before and after cooking sessions. Some white goods are not made as solidly as years before, yet others tick on without much fuss and demand. Mechanical interfaces are on a predictable repair or replacement schedule, so when they ask for attention, our sub-conscious accepts their happening. This brings to mind the motor that powers the opening of the double garage door twice a day. Oh yes, the attention to detail - and getting organised.
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