Choir

I went to a choir last night. I have sung in several choirs, groups and musicals before, but nothing like this one! I may well be punching above my weight.

It all comes of their being so many people here, I guess. This is a regional choir, a Bach chorale I think was the name. There were at least 45 members there, including a healthy range of men. Habitual choir singers in Australia will know how amazing this is, especially to get any tenors at all.

Anyway, I got handed five manuscripts, two of which we were practising this evening. One of those was a Mass by de Padilla (in Latin). The other was a Requiem by Brahms (in German). I was thankful to hear that this was the first rehearsal for both pieces. Imagine my astonishment, when we had warmed up, when we picked up the Latin mass in eight parts and launched in! Sight reading without even a chord given, and a hum of everyone finding their first notes! And it was the tenors that kicked off! Anyone who has ever been in a country musical in Australia knows that tenors, especially, need a lot of encouraging and coaxing and repeats of their bits. This gives the other parts time to read over the music, latch on to a starting note or two, get the feel of the thing... (or have a sneaky whisper to the person next to you, and then get chipped by the poor conductor.) Even when I was in a large university choir in Sydney these things took time. But not here. Whew!

Anyway, after whipping through two movements a couple of times only, it was into the Brahms. No explanations of German lyrics or anything, we were off. They are very lovely, but I am going to have to do a lot of homework on these ones. That's without even looking at the South American Baroque choral music, which has titles that look like they are written in Incan... (Xicochi Xicochi conetzintle is one title!) Then in five weeks I get auditioned. That explains a lot. I wonder how many people don't make it? I will put it all down to experience, and not sook if I don't make the grade; I'm sure that there are other musical groups about that are less challenging. I guess it's just not what I expected from a small town group meeting at the high school hall!

(The flowers were given to us at the party. We are going to London this afternoon and won't be back until Sunday, when I suspect they will have had it. I thought this blog needed some sort of illustration!)

Australia Day party

On Australia Day the Fosters invited all the neighbours and most of Wayne's staff to a party at our house. The Australian flag was artistically draped outside to indicate our house - (perhaps not too romantically, it was on a large green bin.) Pictured is Jack and Eleanor as gracious waitpeople in front of a fraction of all the goodies on offer: Australian wines and beer, Vegemite on crusty bread, kangaroo sausages, Tim Tams and lots of other nibbly stuff that was just yummy.

It kicked off about 5:45 as people came in from work. It was quite a crush in the little house, but it was a lot of fun. Some people kindly brought flowers and more wine; and one close neighbour actually looked up a lamington recipe and brought them along. Annie voted them the best lamingtons she had ever had, with real chocolate coating! Wayne and I did not get to taste any, or eat very much, as we were busy chatting and cooking sausages and making sure everyone had something to drink. That's also why we didn't get around to taking any photos of the actual party. I suppose we should have given the camera to Jack or someone, but they were busy themselves, mostly talking to the many children who came along. One mother was very impressed that Jack and Annie kept her very young children entertained so that she could actually socialise a bit!

Mindful of our ambassadorial role, I said a few well-chosen words of what Australia Day was all about. John Howard might have thought it was a bit too 'black arm-band'; my old Dad might have questioned the lack of poetry, or mention of convict carousing when the females came ashore. I hope the overall impression was that we were very glad to be Australian and loved our beautiful country, despite our dodgy beginnings.

So, people drifted off at about 8:45, it being a school night and all. Very nice. No one choked on the Vegemite. Wayne thought that the kangaroo sausages were not, in fact, kangaroo despite their label; but everyone enjoyed them all the same. Happy Australia Day!

Jack in school; a trip to Plymouth

Jack finally went to school this week. His uniform is definitely more formal than that of Moruya High school: here he is in his tailored trousers, ironed shirt and tie, woollen jumper , blazer and shiny shoes. He still manages to play soccer, er, 'football' at break with his new-found mates. One of those is a Jack as well - the name is just as prolific over here...


(Sorry this is sideways. If I rotate it, Jack goes all skinny. You will have to twist your necks.)


Jack has to learn French and Spanish, having never learnt any foreign language previously. I can help him with French, but neither Wayne nor I know more than a smattering of Spanish words- mostly derived from comics... Jack's on his own.

On Wednesday I took a train to Plymouth. It is a half-hour trip, and very picturesque. There is not much greenery in the actual city - all the tall houses seen from the train are crowded together with shared walls, their roofs a mass of grey crowded with chimneys. Yet they look solid and united, in slightly varying pastel and white shades.

The train is only minutes away, walking, from the city centre- and there are streets which are pedestrian only. The university is right there too; all very sensible. I was a bit bewildered by the variety of shops, but I did eventually get most of what I needed... 'rambling' boots, good thermal undies and a warm jumper. I got some good bargains too - the January sales seem to be still going. I also noted that English seagulls are HUGE - as big as chooks, and with a wild and poignant cry. There was also a very adventurous bee, for this time of the year, in a mall garden. It, also, was of giant proportions, looking like it was wearing a thick stripey overcoat.

Home again after a pretty successful 'raid' - only to find that my car at the station had a flat battery. I had left the lights on AGAIN, as I was running a bit late for the train in the morning and had to get a pay parking ticket too, missing the warning 'beep' in my hurry. I was rescued by a man in the nearby tyre shop. Hopefully this will not happen again!

A Wonderful Weekend - Stef's Birthday, St. Austell Movies, Eden Project and Bodmin Moor

It was a great weekend on the 16-17th January. Saturday was Stefanie's birthday. The day started early for me (Wayne) as with the busy-ness of school, settling in and snow it had been difficult to get anywhere, let alone a shop to buy Stef a present. So I went into Liskeard first thing for some shopping by myself. It was good to get out and about, in the car and looking around the place now that things were more familiar. A trip to the bookshop yielded a very suitable present: The 2009 Man Booker Prize winner Wolf Hall - something Stef can get stuck into and enjoy. It was quite a cloudy, rainy day and we were fairly sure - as certain as you can be with the unpredictability of the weather and the inaccuracy of the weather forecasts - that Sunday would be quite a nice day, so we thought we'd do inside things Saturday and outside things on Sunday.

We went to St. Austell to watch the movies. Eleanor and I went to see Alvin and the Chipmunks 2 (because Chipmunks 1 was so good and we couldn't wait???) and Stef and the bigger kids went to see Avatar in 3D. We all enjoyed the movies very much (boy, can those Chipettes dance!).

Stef here. The drive down was part of the treat - beautiful villages. There was a lot of run-off on the roads from the thaw, and the children at least enjoyed our almighty splashes through these. Being overtaken, on a 'double yellow', through one of these nearly gave the grown-ups cardiac arrest.

It was Fish and Chips for dinner and the bar has been set very low as our starting point for indulgence in the fabled English Fish and Chips. We have resolved that we will never bring Fish and Chips home again and that we will only eat it when out and about, by the seaside.

At least I didn't have to cook, and I didn't REALLY mind about no birthday cake...

We woke this morning to a simply glorious day. Bright, still, dry, blue and blow me down - quite warm. Now warm is a relative term these days and I didn't think I'd ever get terribly excited about creeping into double figures but you could feel heat in the air and it was great. We headed off as early as we could to the Eden Project just outside St. Austell.

In a word - Fantastic!

We wanted to go this weekend because we could get in for free. They had a teachers-for-free promotion on and kids get in for free so a cheap day out for us.

We loved this horse made out of drftwood which was on the walkway to the front entrance building. ( Annie is a little embarrassed to be near any woman who would wear a daggy red cap.)

Here we are on the viewing platform overlooking the gardens and the Biomes.

We decided to take the meandering path around the outside gardens first. We walked from the top of the site (a reclaimed mining pit) down to the entrance of the Biomes. There were lots of interesting structures, sculptures, plantings, gardens, hidden areas and quirky little things to look at and find along the way. Here, Stef and the kids are outside a mysterious stone hut that you could go inside to find something that looked like a magic well. I loved an overgrown stone wall that had a stone hand coming out of it as if somebody was trying to get out. It was quite unobtrusive but your eyes would just suddenly come across it and it would startle you. There were lots of things like that.


Here we are walking down the main garden path with the Biomes in the background.

This was a quirky statue called an Industrial Plant. Very effective. The whole point of the Eden Project is to make people think about plants, the Earth and the environment and they do it very well.
I liked the way they include the arts. There were several poems inscribed about the place, and an amazing carved stone (huge) in the shape of a seed, symbolising starts and cores and all sorts of things. And sculpture, including that horse above, which must have taken ages to find just the right drift-wood for the anatomically correct parts.




Then we went into the Rainforest Biome. It was a good 30+ degrees and tropical humid. We were instantly transported to the path around Lake Eacham near Mum and Dad's at Yungaburra in Far North Queensland. Same plants, same heat, same type of path. The only thing missing, as Stefanie noted, was the stuff that can hurt you like Wait-A-While vine, Stinging Tree, Scrub Turkeys and pythons (not that anybody has been killed by a ravenous Scrub Turkey or a python for some time). This photo shows the humidity in this biome as the lens is fogged up. Stef reckons it makes her look like 'the mystical princess of the rainforest' (..umm..yes..it does). Did I say that? Must be the skivvy and the grey cords... very romantic, really.

Here I wiped the camera lens.

This shot could have been taken somewhere on the walk around Lake Eacham. Don't let the fact that we have our winter woolies on fool you. We weren't prepared for the sudden heat of walking into this biome and we are near fainting with all of those clothes on.

This was a nice, lush part of the walk. There is the top of the waterfall that provides the humidity in the biome in the distance. You can also see the outside skin. It is basically a massive greenhouse. It is not sealed and self-sustaining like the Biodome project.

Then we went through to the Mediterranean Biome. We found the cloak room on the way so unnecessarily ditched our coats. The Mediterranean Biome is heated only by solar radiation and with the sun low in the sky it wasn't heating up much at all. Plants typical of the Meditteranean and the South Coast of NSW were in abundance in here.

This is me being worshipped by Dionysus and my followers. Quite a striking sculpture display.

Pride cometh before a fall. Wayne very nearly fell into a fine display of cacti just after this, he has neglected to say. He regained his balance at the critical moment.

We had to take a photo of Jack with this Banksia tree. (sniff..just like home). These plants must be strange and wonderful if you come from London, Leicester or Liskeard.

(Stef until the end now.)

After this we went off seeking nourishment. A spot in the cafeteria promised home-made cornish pasties, which we thought it was high time to sample. They were very good, too. However, I have to say they were not as good as the ones my old Nan used to make, those with a good variety of veg in them, and not too large a seam of pastry. Those who had not tasted these Hosking ones were very well pleased, however. The home-made lemonade was certainly the best I have ever had.

Determined to make the most of the fine weather, we then left for a long-delayed walk on the moors. No icy toes this time, although it was definitely chilly and we welcomed our coats. I wore my very attractive red hiking cap, picked up nineteen years ago in Scotland, and dusted off gratefully now. (Annie walked several metres behind.)

It was very muddy, but a dry path was discernable on the main track, and on we trekked. We walked past the standing stones mentioned in an earlier blog, noting black-faced sheep and shaggy moor ponies as we walked. We aimed for a hill, topped with ancient rock structures. Here are the children, creeping into a crevice.

Here is Wayne and Annie, a little below the same structure. (I am reminded of that giant bloke in The Princess Bride at this point. Luckily Wayne did not start chucking large rocks around).

And here are some photos of us at the very top. Eleanor had a trip up the hill, and so is not quite her cheery self in these.

We could see for miles around. It was wonderful.

We were not alone, though. Quite a few people were out walking dogs, some rode horses. A farmer brought some hay up, and sheep and ponies came running up to eat it.

Jack is posing here in front of a very big drop into an old mine. Ugh!

And so, down we went towards home, thinking longingly of hot drinks at this point. Annie skidded down a muddy slope, onto her bottom.

Jack, somehow unaware of this adventure and the subsequent tears, promptly did the same thing, even as Wayne was brushing Annie off! I cautiously came down another way. Eleanor had fallen on the way up, thus fulfilling her quota. Wayne had had his cactus adventure, but I wondered if my turn was coming. We walked back past the standing stones, on our left. I tried to remember if the hobbits were told to keep the stones on their left or their right, up on the barrow downs. A crow fluttered down next to us. The sun dropped in the west. Barrow wights!... but, no. We made it back to the car park safely, and thence home. Dinner burbled in the slow cooker. Everyone went off to bathe and relax... except for me, dealing with all the muddy clothes, ironing school shirts and sewing on Eleanor's school logo. BUT, I didn't have to go to school tomorrow! A Grand Day Out.

Inside

The girls and Wayne are at school. Early today I dropped Jack's form in at his school so that his timetable will be ready for him starting on Monday. I walked down from there to the Post Office to send off an important form to the Credit Union, and buy some stamps. Back to the car, and off to the garage to get its MOT (sort of like a pink slip). Home again, to find Jack comfortably settled in the kitchen writing what is sure to be a best-selling fantasy novel which will allow his parents to resign early...

Behind him you see the Rayburn heater, our household god, in its holy shrine. Benevolently, yet strictly, it governs our day. Matins is at 6:30 am, a gentle roaring which starts to spread heat throughout the household. Wayne heads to the shower, I to the exercise shed and the stationary bicycle. The children emerge at around the second chorus.

Once kick-started in our various ways, the god helps those who help themselves. The heating spark is given, but it is up to us to light the wood/coal fire for the daylight hours, because the Rayburn returns to dormant silence at about 8:30 am. In its wisdom, it also gives adequate but not abundant hot water. Moderation in all things, it reminds us, including showering. It accepts damp offerings of laundry before it, and gently beams upon our genuflections entering the kitchen. And, when it gets darker and intensely cold and our feeble efforts at tending the coal fire send us towards despair, the Rayburn hums into gentle life again, singing vespers of comfort as we eat and wash and pack away. The god teaches that early to bed and to rise ensures health, wealth and wisdom... again we are left to the fire's mercies after a couple of hours, and cosy bed looks like a good option reasonably soon.

We must have sinned today, because Matins was cancelled. I did not go to the shed, and was awakened by an indignant husband who had had a cold shower and could not find his shirt. Eleanor decided that one day of school was enough and she would like to stay at home. Annie coughed, and snarled at her brother. Oh, horror! Rain had washed away nearly all the snow and ice, and it seemed the god had decided it was too warm for house and water heating. Sacreligious mutterings were heard from many. The temple cats fled to warmer climes. What a difference it makes when one's god turns his back on one...

I will have to exercise this afternoon. It is a bit damp and nasty for walks, and the car is at the garage. Here is a picture of me on the bike. Strange angle courtesy of Jack - we are not on a hill.

School at last

Today, Thursday, we finally packed Annie and Eleanor off to school. Here is a photo of them in their brand new uniforms, which I have published after some technical difficulties with the camera. I took a photo with my first-ever mobile phone, which worked, but I can't work out how to get it onto a computer. I think one may need a memory card, which I don't have. (There are so many, many things to work out at the moment!)

Yes, dear reader, we have a thaw. I had resolved to get a taxi, if I had to, to get the children to their initial school visits on Wednesday. Luckily, I just had to contend with slush and fog. This was okay, as I now have a basic map of Liskeard in my mind, which is getting filled out a little more with each visit. First up was Jack's school. It is huge, 1200 students being catered for. Jack and I were given a tour through a maze of corridors. Great facilities! Not only a large drama hall, but a dance studio, I noted - thinking of poor old Moruya High's demountable for drama... Anyway, we got a form to fill in, and Jack will be in on Monday - only a week or so before his Australian counterparts, after all.

Then off to the primary school. It is on "Old Road", which I can well believe, it is so narrow and winding. The principal herself gave us the grand tour this time. Everyone says this is a large school, but it looks smaller than Moruya Primary; probably because it is all contained within one building. There are some tiny pupils here - they start at age four. We ended up in one room where Annie's future class was working. They had some big, West Indian kettle drum thingies (surrealistically), and the principal called for a volunteer to show Annie how to play them. Up hopped a small, dark-haired bespectacled boy called Harry... (sound familiar, Rowlings fans?) He couldn't quite remember something, so his mate came up to help. This boy was tall with red hair. I am NOT kidding. (But his name was Mike, not Ron, disappointingly).

Anyway, we set them up for school today. I bought a school jumper and bag also, promising to come around later today with the money. I duly did, having finished grocery shopping with Jack and getting some spare change. The principal said the girls had settled in well. I nipped in to the loo - and came out to find two staff having a huge argument in the middle of the corridor! The office lady was most embarrassed as she ushered me out. I hope it was a one-off, cabin-fever induced fight.

So, there is the photo. Also on my phone is picture of a fluffy, frost-tipped fox that the children and I found lying next to a farm gate on one of our little walks. There was a shotgun pellet, so it must have been shot, but there was no blood or gore. Not like the yucky road-kill ones in Australia, that I always feel glad about, thinking of the several chooks I have lost to greedy feral foxes at Moruya Heads. This one recalled Beatrix Potter... or perhaps the Narnia film that has been shown twice here, in the last week. ( No doubt the hundred years of winter is resonating in the BBC editor's imagination.) I think everyone would give Aslan a hearty cheer about now!

Seven search for the Faraway Tree

Saturday dawned, bright and clear, but still cold and icy. We were in need of supplies, and so was Mike next door. Luckily Mike had been offered a lift to the supermarket with neighbour Michelle, in her sturdy 4wd. I managed to invite myself to the party. Michelle confided that even in her mighty vehicle, she had skidded down on to the A38 the day before. I decided to omit that little story in my reporting to Wayne, who is prone to worrying...

We got to the shop without incident, but I have never seen such crowds in all my born days, not even in the Thursday before Easter in Australia. I reflected that Mum would have slit her throat somewhere in the laundry aisle after half an hour of crowding. I could not find matches, and confided as much to the gent in front of me in the queue to the checkout, which snaked up past the fabric softener. He said, "Mind me trolley," and slipped out and got me some matches in a flash. What a lovely fellow. I whiled away the queue time reading 'The Guardian' and surruptitiously studying my fellow shoppers.

After a very late lunch at home, the Fosters borrowed Mike's children, Will and Sophie, to lead us on an expedition to Threthawle woods. Wayne cajoled our kiddies away from the telly, promising Faraway trees and such. (He also said they could finish the video when we got back). It really wasn't too cold outside, and we needed some fresh air.

So, off the seven trudged. We climbed the fence into the vista of hills mentioned last blog. No sunset - it was 3:30 or so, but it was late afternoon light. Here is a photo of Wayne just past the fence.

We crunched over the lumpy frozen ground, down, down until we reached a thin wood. Here are the children amongst the first trees.

We kept on going down, although it was rather treacherous underfoot. We had to negotiate barbed wire, then there was marsh under the ice. Eventually, we reached a small waterway, and this beaut mossy tree.
Having seen the stream, back up the hill we went. I thought we would retrace our steps, but intrepid Will had other ideas. There was hardly any snow in this south-facing field. I marvelled at the soft turf... no tussocks or prickles in sight. You would be proud to have this grass in your front yard, and yet it was only a cow pasture.

We followed the curve of a hill, and found a sheltered, raised bit of woodland that Will and Sophie called 'The Platform'. We were up to our ankles in dead leaves. There was quite a bit of open space between the trees. I imagine it would be very pretty in the warm weather. Here is Wayne and Eleanor examining a holly tree; and Jack, Eleanor and Will bravely scaling a bit of mossy wall.

Leaving this behind us, we completed a circular track towards home. The duck pond was almost completely frozen. We came up behind our houses, and bumped into Mike coming back from feeding his hens, and Andrew the farmer from checking his stock. We had a chat, and I noticed some interesting birds pecking away at the bottom of a hedge. No one could identify them, but

Mike kindly lent me a little bird book as we went in. They were linnets! I was thrilled... straight out of the poetry book, I thought; "evening full of linnets' wings". What nice neighbours we have.

Inside to the slow cooker issuing lovely savoury smells, "Kleftico-style lamb" today, with interesting tastes of lemon, honey and dates. We are trying a new recipe every day.

Rolling Hills and a Tangerine Sunset

Wayne has been able to start his teaching duties, so I (Stefanie) am taking over the blog today. Our deep, hedge-lined lane down to Trethawle is still terribly icy, but Wayne can walk down it and get a lift to school. This he has done twice. The second time he wore his "wellies" for the walk, as his school shoes are both cold and slippery. Farmer Andrew gave him a lift on the back of a tractor on the return walk, the first day.

The rest of us remain at the house, because we cannot drive on the ice in our little Rover car. The primary school only opened for the first time today, anyway, so the children have not missed much. They are lying around reading "Beano" comics, for the most part. I am astonished that these are still published, as they have been around since Adam was a boy, and still have teachers with mortar boards in them.

The girls and I have gone on a little walk up the lane for the past couple of days, to get some fresh air and to check out the animal life. There are several farm cats around the place, but we met a magnificent moggie today, with a chocolate face, lighter brown body, black feet and white toes. It had a very short tail (black), about a hand's length, which I don't know if it can be natural.

Walking towards the highway, we can peer over the fence at one field full of cows. Right near the end of the lane are the (farmed) 'wild' boar. They look just like the ones in the Asterix comics, except hairy/fluffier... sort of like bum-fluff. They have very long snuffly noses, extremely wet at the end. In short, they are not pretty, but are strangely fascinating.

We trudged back yesterday, holding hands; I, in the safe snowy bit in the centre of the lane, the girls happily skidding and sliding on the bit where the wheels of cars go. I thought of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet off hunting a Wurzle or something, probably because we are so rugged up in puffy coats, and trudging in these gum-boots. Nearing our house, Eleanor had enough and went inside, but Annie stayed with me to go to the further end of the lane, where the big girls had taken her sledging. With difficulty (boots, coat) we climbed a fence, and suddenly we were in an open field, looking out onto rolling hills and a tangerine sunset. Some fields looked as if they had been combed with snow along plough lines, others were greener with a light dusting of white. Here and there were little stone houses cosily tucked in the corners. My heart lifted. Defying gumboots, Annie started running, off over the hills, she looked as if she could go on forever. Bits of Dylan Thomas's "Fern Hill" came to mind ... 'it was running, it was lovely... the tunes from the chimneys, it was air and playing, lovely and watery... clear and cold...'

Such moments you live for on exchange.

More snow in Cornwall!

Another day of closed schools due to the snow. We got out amongst it and made snowmen and threw snowballs around. Pictures speak a thousand words...

Jack, Annie and Eleanor go sledging in the snow

The girls from over the back - Indy and her friend - came round to ask if Jack, Annie and Eleanor wanted to go sledging in the snow. They did.

Snowing in Cornwall

Today was supposed to be the first day that I was teaching and the girls were going to their school. However, snow showers fell this morning, school buses were cancelled and the schools were closed. This meant that I could get some lesson prep done and the kids could play in the snow. Here are some photos.

A Successful Raid

Some of these postings are going to be more for Foster family memories of their time in England rather than any wonderful interest to readers. This may be one of them.

This late morning/afternoon we went shopping. The main items required were clothes for winter and school, school stationery and groceries. First it was off to the Op shops in search of jumpers and winter clothes of interest in general. There are four Op shops in Liskeard: Hospital Aid, Red Cross, Heart Foundation and Oxfam. They were all fairly small. The first one yielded nothing. The second yielded nothing. The third was the smallest one with only a few items of clothing BUT I (Wayne) found a gortex all-weather jacket, pristine condition, as seen in Kathmandu shops in Canberra for AUD$300, fitted snugly but pretty well and I'm going to work on losing weight anyway for £5 - what a find! In the last shop I did well again with Stef finding me a heavy, silky grey jumper for £5.

Then it was off to Trago Mills to go berserk. And we did! Winter woolies, Long Johns, Jackets etc etc were all bought as well as some stationery items. I was particularly impressed with my new sleeveless, reversible bodywarmer jacket that I have seen everyone wearing. They are really good, warm and cosy.

Then it was off to the ever-busy Morrison's for some food shopping. We fought our way through the crowds in order to buy some necessary items and the makings of pot-roast slowcooker chicken (from the Hodges you beaut slowcooker recipe book) that Annie had chosen for Sunday dinner. The meal called for 900mL of dry cider so I just had to buy the 3L bottle so I could drink the rest. Cornish cider purists would probably weep at my chioce of Morrison's Dry Cider in a plastic soft-drink bottle as my first taste of cider in Cornwall but, mate, that stuff is deadly - extremely drinkable and 5.3%! Better be careful. (or not).

The older parts of Liskeard are all little lanes and specialty shops. Here we are in one of the lanes.

Thick frost or snow?

A magic morning of bright blue sky and everything covered in white. I (Wayne) think it is thick frost rather than snow but it still looks beautiful. Eleanor and I went outside to take some photos.