I lose all sense of time in the garden, and then I lose myself. It’s a common enough experience among gardeners. After the first flurry of harvesting, tying back overgrown tomatoes and moving hoses about, observing life’s cycle from seed to flower to fruit then back to seed, and all the while conscious of my own aging body as it bends and complains within this bounteous space, another state emerges. My pragmatic self surrenders to a semi- conscious meditation on the essence of being. Through silent awareness and invisibility, the sounds and signals of earth- primordial, spiritual, supreme- reinforce the idea of Anattā, that Buddhist concept of non-being.
It begins with a chive flower waving in the gentle breeze, now taller than the blanketing pumpkin leaves, insisting on more light. The delicate white coriander flowers belie the true pungency of their leaves, roots and seeds. Things are not what they seem. Then a strange bird call punctures the silence. High pitched like a creaking table, the sound is urgent but not bleak. I look up and see a flash of yellow underneath a broad wing span of black. It’s the yellow -tailed black cockatoo, an infrequent visitor to these lightly wooded lands. Now one, now two more, followed by a train of rasping sound, they are on their way to a distant pine tree. Word is out that the nuts are ready to strip. The guard cocky stands alert, signalling from the highest branch, a two-dimensional black stencil, a wayang puppet, an inked picture outlined in the early morning sky.
The bluest of blue of the radicchio flower is a call to the bees. I can never find the word for this blue: constructs such as Cobalt or Persian or Cornflower might have to do. And the little gem of a beetle, friend or foe, travels across a furry field that is an eggplant leaf. The mauve and white bean flowers peep from the darkness of their leafy canopy, an arrangement, a posy, a boutoniere. The beans can wait.
It has been three years. No, not since my last confession, but since I started this blog, Almost Italian, although there are some parallels. Just like in that pontifical wooden cubicle, I get to confess some indulgent practices here in the form of eating, drinking and travelling. Like many other bloggers, an anniversary is a time to reflect, despite all the daily, monthly and yearly graphs and statistics provided by WordPress, the daily view bar graphs, views by country, statistics by post, best day of the week and time of day. This information is enlightening and addictive. I am constantly amazed at the success of some posts and the dismal failure of others.
That’s one party, one recipe and one restaurant review. Sounds like a famous blues song involving lots of drinks. All these posts are from previous years, all contain simple and easily found titles, keeping them high on search engines.
The other bit of navel gazing that I have indulged in today are the stories and recipes that didn’t make it onto my blog due to poor photography in low light or sloppy appearance. I am blaming Melbourne’s weather for this. Here is a mosaic preview of some good recipes in the last month with lousy pics.
Grilled calamari, chilli, radicchio, parsley hot salad.
Healthy date and chocolate brownie
Flamiche. Leek Quiche
white polenta, chilli and garlic prawns, burnt butter capers
Corn chowder, grilled prawn, smoked pimenton
Flash chick pea burger with the lot
wild mushroom, porcini, barley hot salad
You, dear reader, get to choose which one of these tasty dishes to redo and post, now that daylight savings has arrived and the light is longer and there’s a chance of eating in the great outdoors again. Open each pic separately, choose the title and tell me in a comment. And thankyou for reading my ‘confession’, subscribing, liking and commenting. Your interest keeps me going. F xx
I keep meaning to learn more Thai language but my repertoire is still quite basic, extending to ” good morning, thank you, excuse me, the bill please”. In my defence, I try to say these phrases as often as I can over a day, and with a few polite bows, seem to get by well enough.
Mr T has begun to cart around a Thai phrase book in the hope that we might extend our vocab. We ponder some ridiculous phrases over dinner. I fancied ” This dog is a ridgeback”, but then we found ” You’re only using me for sex”, listed under the romance section, and later we found a really useful phrase, ” I’m a soldier” (ผมเป็นทหาร ), so handy in a coup, since everyone on the street last Sunday seemed to be a soldier!
The street closures were announced in the newspapers early on Sunday morning, giving citizens plenty of opportunity to re-plan their Sunday travel and driving route. The military had prior knowledge of planned demonstrations thanks to social media, such as Facebook, and informers within the world of texting. Nearby, in our quiet precinct, soldiers blocked the main routes to Victory Square and the Democracy Monument, making the inner city traffic absolutely horrendous. It turns out that some of these protests were poorly attended, with more soldiers on the scene than citizens.
Observations from a farang’s ( foreigner) point of view.
what role does social media play in social unrest?
under a ‘silencing’ military coup, are opponents able to express their opposition in any form, including Facebook?
would you really like to have a ‘selfie’ taken with a soldier toting a huge gun?
a coup is not a benign thing, unless you happen to be on the side that benefits from such a move (yellow shirts) in which case it might be.
life continues as usual for most folk: shooting and violence have been eliminated from the streets. (for the time being).
will an election in one to two year’s time solve this nine year old problem? ( doubtful )
foreign interference is not appreciated. American and Australian political intrusion is unwelcome and is seen as naive, arrogant and misinformed. Certainly, simple slogans or principles like ‘restore democracy’ fail to properly appreciate many complexities and subtleties. Sophisicated Thais are aware of the defects, inequalities and contradictions found in most western democracies, particularly in the USA.
foreign media is prone to sensationalism. The Bangkok press seems to offer a balanced view, at least in the Bangkok Post. Read it on line here. The journalism in this newspaper is remarkably sophisticated and engaging, making me wonder about what ever happened to intelligent reporting at home in Australia and to what depths our newspapers have plummeted.