my world this week
It’s a sunny day today so I have a full load of washing hanging outside on my newly-strung clothesline. What a difference it makes! Thanks to everyone who commented about my story about the pink galahs. I hope it made you smile.
On Monday, I learned a lot about how to grow black truffles. (No, not the chocolate variety. If only they grew in the garden!) The guest speaker at our garden club explained how he and his family started their truffle farm here in the Southern Highlands. As serious farmers, they have a scientific approach to getting exactly the right conditions so the truffles can flourish. His presentation opened my eyes to how hard farmers work and how reliant a crop is on the weather.
I’ve never tasted a truffle – have you? They are meant to have an earthy, woody or nutty taste but I can’t imagine that. Maybe that’s one thing to add to the to-do list.
Regular meetings of our quilting group are back! I’ve been working on this same hand-stitched project at every meeting and progress is slow. That’s not surprising, though, since our get togethers seem to involve more talking than sewing. I think that personal interaction is the whole point, don’t you?
Here’s a story that showed me how our past experiences don’t stay in the past.
I like reading about people. Everyone is full of stories, even if they don’t realise it. I’m particularly aware that so many people’s stories aren’t widely known so I’m always drawn to reading about people I’ve never met.
The Guardian has an irregular series about some people who have died from Covid in Australia. The articles are more than bare facts; they show how the individual’s life is remembered by others.
Last month, the paper ran a story about a man and his family. As soon as I saw the first photo, I recognised Jack and Doreen Moulos. They were the in-laws of a past partner’s brother and we spent many hours in their company.
Visiting that family was like being enveloped in a huge hug. They were so generous and welcomed me into their world.
I felt the urge to tell Carolyn, one of their daughters mentioned in the article, how sorry I was to read about Jack and Doreen’s deaths. I tracked her down through social media and sent a message, wondering if she would remember me. We hadn’t been in touch for about 30-ish years.
She did. We swapped news and it was as if those years fell away.
Here’s the article. I’ve just re-read it and teared up yet again. People and their stories should never be forgotten.
My dahlias will only keep flowering until the first frost hits us, so I’ve been picking blooms each couple of days. I’ve been looking at the tubers that grew well and thinking about extras to add to my cutting garden later this year. I’ve written about that here.
The only book I finished reading this week was Patricia Cornwell’s latest, Autopsy. It was awful and I could only give it a one-star rating. If you want to read my review (and why would you after that introduction?) it’s here.
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Have a lovely week.