A year in the making

A few days ago was the 12-month anniversary of the fall which resulted in a broken arm and a truly spectacular black eye, and I'm pleased to say both arm and eye are working properly, or nearly so.  There are still some wrist movements which are stiffer than they used to be and unwelcome twinges of pain from time to time but, as the orthopedic specialist pointed out, "given your age, your arm may never be what it was before".  He's right, you know.....it isn't.  However, considering the damage (and, of course, my advanced age!) it's not too bad.

During our autumn trip to Canberra last year I visited a fabric store, and bought a few batik fabrics for the trees which I hoped to make one day.  The day has, of course, arrived, and now those trees are being made.  First a smokey blue, with a pale contrast whose design makes me think of mysterious hieroglyphics from an ancient civilisation.....

....then a brownish-greenish-khaki with touches of red.  The red fabric used for trunk and branches were already in my stash, but the others were bought on that trip.

Not a bad effort for the week.

During last month's trip there was, of course, another visit to the same fabric store for a few more batik fabrics.

This was before we departed on our recent holiday, all the thread which was left on the spool after making that week's two trees - certainly not enough to make another tree.

Talk about cutting it fine!  I find this Guttermann colour to be a Very Useful Colour for piecing.

During the week my autumn quilt was laid out once more, this time to have its hanging sleeve added.  That wasn't done in time to enter it in the show a couple of months ago, so it will certainly be done for next year.  I have found a good spot to photograph it, once the sleeve is on.

Yesterday we picked up our hot cross bun order from the bakery on the other side of the river, and jolly nice they are too.  Kevin doesn't eat fruit buns - although he really like date scones - so I will have to eat them all myself.  To make them last longer all six buns were cut across into two halves and placed in the freezer, so my daily treat isn't too huge.  Even though I could quite happily eat a whole bun by myself....those buns are my consolation prize for not being at the folk festival this year.

Words have been read.  Stitches have been sewn, and fabric cut.  Sorting of music has commenced, and I am being quite ruthless culling anything which I don't want to keep.  We hunted and we gathered, and went here and there, and that was another week done.

During our trip away we took the opportunity to try a couple of different - to us - roads, and we drove through Binda.  Thirty years ago I heard (and have been singing ever since) a song called 'Binda Ball', about a trio of bushrangers crashing the 1864 Boxing Day ball held in the small town of Binda.  The Binda police were away at the time escorting prisoners to Goulburn, so Ben Hall and his gang took advantage of that to kick up their heels for a few hours.  The storekeeper Morris, a former policeman, tried to get some of the local men to rush the bushrangers during the dancing and capture them, but the plan was overheard and foiled.  In revenge, they burned down Morris's store; he lost all his stock and his account books, without which he couldn't continue trading.  The girls who had such fun dancing with their 'bushranger sweethearts' were arrested; there are accounts published in newspapers at the time which can be read online.  All three - Ben Hall, John Gilbert, and Jack Dunn - died the following May.  Many bushrangers were descended from convict parents or grandparents; as such, most had scant respect for authority.

We all make choices in our lives, and these three men made unwise choices.  Others, in the same circumstances, made different choices and consequently lived (mostly) blameless, if less adventurous, lives - and longer ones.  Jack Dunn was still a teenager when he was hung for bushranging and murder.

Last week's etiquette post was about assisting a lady to mount a horse, using a side saddle.  One of the items held in the historical museum here is a side saddle belonging to Esther Stace - Mrs Arthur Stace, because women were known by their husband's name in those days - who held a side saddle jumping record which stood for nearly 100 years, only being broken in 2013.  Side saddle always looks awkward to me, but perhaps it's really quite comfortable.....who knows?

"Riding with ladies.

In riding with one lady, a gentleman takes his position to the right of her.  When riding with two or more, his position is still to the right unless one of them needs his assistance or requests his presence near her.  He must offer all the courtesies of the road, and yield the best and shadiest side to the ladies.  The lady must always decide upon the pace at which to ride.  It is ungenerous to urge her or incite her horse to a faster gait than she feels competent to undertake."

It is indeed.  Not every side saddle rider has Esther's skills.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer