abeachcottage: at the beach

G'day!

Goodness, you sure like Lisa Leonard don't you? I'm not surprised.

I have to say I really* enjoyed reading through the uniform comments...it seems most of you like what I like...funny that...I mean really who can beat the humble jeans and tee combo?

I dunno about Skinny though...never quite did like the whole drainpipe thing the last time...though I've certainly got some Skinnies so there must be something to 'em...

Anyway, I don't know if you remember that a while ago I found a real old treasure at a garage sale? It was a transcript of the memories of the folks at a nursing home, I have deduced from what I have read that this book was written in the late 60's early 70's and these folks were in their 70's and 80's.

What attracted me to the book was nothing other than the faded old paper, the brown edges, the age spots and the hand-typed print (you already know I have a bit of an obsession with that). But it so happenend, that I had come upon on a gem, an account of the memories of a handful of old ladies and gents from their days from 1903 to WWII

So the other morning, after the school run and chores out of the way I decided to treat myself to some time with that old book, a coffee and a sit watching the boats go by.

I love to sit down by the wharf, it's somehow relaxing and interesting at the same time.

The thing is this: on the beach sitting down with a coffee and a book on a school day seems positively indulgent, but on this side it's all so very much more industrious...you can sit here and drink your coffee in relative peace, get your 350 in, all the while watching everyone else going about their day and oddly feel a part of it all...the ferries chugging in and out, the fisherman going past, the day trippers coming in and the commuters flying through...as if somehow your 350 squats to get your butt lifted are an essential element of this stage set.

I have to say, looking through that old book, legs dangling over the side with a coffee, that it was the chapter 'Dances' that lured me most. Tell me, would it have lured you too?

I had visions of those lovely old folks sitting in their big chairs all in a circle, smiling and reminiscing and talking about those heydays when people didn't sit at a computer or in front of the tv, when guys and dolls went out to dance...

And I it seems that in those delicious old days gone by, there were dances & ice skaing in a building that I've passed lot of times...a building named Dungowan... a beautiful, commanding old place.

And so I left the wharf and walked round to hunt out Dungowan, now, with my new old knowledge and oh how I very much fell in love with it, the elongated balcony, the Italianate feel, the balustrading...and sigh the to-die-for double entrance door...

I walked around Dungowan, a tad errrm bedraggled from the wind at the wharf and feeling for sure the 350..pulled out my camera, head swimming with jitterbugs and dancing, wriggling bodies and stamping feet and in a complete world of my own was oohing and ahhing looking up and down and walking around.

Lost in all those others' memories of life gone-by, I was in fact, a little disappointed at the up-do this place has recently gone through, I don't know but its newness, it's perfect creamy facade didn't seem to sit right with me and so I went up and stroked the wall and sorta sighed.

...at which point, some guy, clearly a boutique apartment owner stuck his head out the window I had just photographed and asked me "just quite what I thought I was taking photos of?" and "just what was I wiping on the wall?"

Well, people, most offended by his haughty manner, I hesitated, weighing up the benefits of talking about the book, the blog, the ice, the old folk and the jitterbugs...but by the look on his face I decided to hedge my bets, looked at him blankly and pretended to be French.