Beware of dinosaurs

Life in Australia is not all sun, surf and jollyhockeysticks.  This week saw the shameful culmination of something that for the past three years has made me wonder exactly what century we are living in. 

The sexist abuse hurled at Julia Gillard by not just the opposition but also by sections of the media and much of the general public while she was Prime Minister was way beyond disrespectful.  Robust political debate is fine and to be expected but this was not that.  Repeated personal attacks on a person because of their physical appearance, family situation or voice are not OK - ever.  Throwing sandwiches at someone is not OK - ever! In fact according to a flyer brought home from school recently that sort of behaviour is called bullying.  For the past three years much of Australia has participated in The Big Bully, much like a scary psychology experiment on a very grand scale. It was shocking.  Big sections of Australian society need to have a long hard look at their behaviour, their frighteningly outdated attitudes and their plain lack of manners if they think that this is an OK way to treat anyone, regardless of whether you agree with their views or think they are any good at their job.

As one commenter on an online news site wrote "In its disgracefully sexist treatment of its first female Prime Minister, Australia has proven yet again that it isn't quite ready yet for this thingy we in other parts of the world call life in the 21st century".  Sadly I agree. As my teenage daughter put it "Do we really want to live in a country thinks it is OK to treat women this way?"  I'll have to think about that one.

Repeating pattern

I love repeating patterns.  I love them in fabrics, wallpaper, carpets and I love spotting them in nature and photographing them.

Yesterday a repeating pattern happened in our lives; my partner's work contract was renewed.  Phew!  Like many New Zealanders living in Australia we will have to leave at some point.  In our case that is because we can never become Australian citizens and as such our children are not eligible for student loans in Australia.  Little Miss WinsEveryPrizeSheGoesNear is also not eligible for scholarships in Australia and given that most of her preferred career options will involve manymany years of university study, that simply won't be possible here.

But anyway we aren't quite ready to leave yet.  We hope to do a lot more exploring here before we leave. One place I've always wanted to investigate is Tasmania especially since a local artist friend came back raving about the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) and insisting that I must go there, which sadly is a tad easier said than done. 

So today I made that repeating pattern above as my entry into a competition to win a trip there.  The somewhat debauched content of that pattern isn't my usual style but the prize is a visit to Tasmania, MONA and the fabulously Bacchanalian sounding Dark MOFO festival. My winter feast pic is called "My Darkest Night Is Repeating On Me".  I've probably broken the rules by repeating my photo but MONA and Dark MOFO seem to be all about breaking rules, which is a huge part of their appeal to me. (Instagram users can help me out by liking my pic - my handle surprisingly enough is pearlequeen and you can see all the entries by searching for #abcRNDarkMOFO . If any Australian-based folk fancy entering too the details are here but you'll have to be quick as it closes this Sunday.)

It was fun to do but obviously a long-shot so in the meantime I'll just keep on keeping on with our other plan to visit Tasmania and MONA which is also a repeating pattern: scrimping and saving, scrimping and saving.

I'm there. I've made it.

As any of you who know me will realise, the "Making it in Mandurah" words on the right of this blog are somewhat tongue in cheek.  For many people around these parts "Making it" seems to mean holidaying in Bali and owning a huge house, a huge vehicle, his 'n' hers jetskis plus and various other things I am not the slightest bit interested in. 

My version of "making it" is considerably more modest and involves having time to, well, make things including our vegetable garden and good meals.  I am happy to report that in gardening terms, we have recently met a couple of criteria I set myself and have officially made it.

Late autumn and early winter are great times in the garden here as the temperature stays in the twenties or below and it rains fairly frequently and heavily. This means that we have finally got to the point where our garden is providing most of the vegetables we eat. Given that we started with a sand dune this is no mean feat.  Every morning I head out into the garden with my colander to pick salad greens for our packed lunches.  Every evening I head back out there to harvest more food for our evening meal.

I have been repeating that pattern over

and over

and over again

for several weeks now.  The big winners have been kale, chinese stirfry greens, chillies, beans, rocket, mizuna, herbs and pumpkins.

But I set myself another criteria when it comes to "making it" in the garden. Our garden must also be a great and safe place for local wildlife to live in and visit. I've been on a couple of courses about creating wildlife-friendly gardens (thank you City of Mandurah) and read about how various chemicals can be problematic for wildlife so we've given them all a big swerve.

We have succeeded in attracting numerous birds to the garden and we now also have masses of lizards. There is one creature I am not too excited about.  Here is a calling card it left us in the shed.

Yes that is a (tiny) snake's shed skin.  Our planned frog pond is still just a concept but frogs have moved in anyway.  In the evenings we hear a chorus of burrowing frogs in the front garden (put put put) and here is a motorbike frog who has recently shifted into the back garden (vroom vroom vroom). 

I woke in the night with a raging temperature to hear a Boobook owl right outside the window (bookbook bookbook bookbook) and today I'm just admiring our garden from the great indoors (and mucking around creating repeating patterns) as I have woken up with a lurgy. I've swapped my work day for tomorrow and was still in bed reading when I heard a squeeeak in the driveway then the cheery hellooo of a friend who had popped by while out doing chores. She's never popped in unannounced before and was a little apologetic about doing so.  I however was delighted and would have loved to have said "coffee?" and welcomed her in despite the fact that my house is messy and I am wearing PJs and have bedhair like a crazy chicken, but we thought it best that I don't share my germs.  

It is three years today since we left New Zealand.  I still dearly miss my NZ friends especially my closest "swing-by" friends.  The fact that I finally have a swing-by friend here means that I really am making it, at least by my definition.

Plenty of work and plenty of joy

As we all know, all work and no joy makes Mac (or Jack) or anyone else for that matter a dull boy - or girl.  There sure has been plenty of work going on around here but luckily there has also been truckloads of joy.  All members of this household have been enjoying new interests.

My swimming lessons are still in the early stages (my best stroke is still Drownstroke) but I am determined to get to the stage where swimming is actually fun.  My partner is a gun swimmer and most Saturday mornings he can be found far out to sea with many other "Masters" (while back at home I try to ignore radio news reports about shark attacks).  Somewhere in the pictures below are my partner, my swimming tutor and several of their clubmates completing this year's 3.6km Busselton Jetty Swim. 

I don't intend to ever join him in using swimming as a means of transportation, but the other hobby he and my daughter have taken up does look like a lot of fun.  They are having surfing lessons at a local surf school and are both doing brilliantly.  Here they are only one hour into their first lesson.

My daughter has also taken up hockey

and my son is making great progress with lawn bowls. He now trains regularly in Perth with the state junior squad who are the Australian juniors champions.  Lawn bowls might seem like an unusual sport for a boy his age but I am thrilled that he has found a sport he enjoys and is good at as that is something that has eluded me my entire life.

While he attends his day-long training sessions, I get to indulge in one of my favourite activities and explore new-to-me parts of Perth.  On the last trip I took the opportunity to finally buy something new that I have been trying and failing to buy secondhand for three years: a bike!

I use it to do chores, visit friends and tootle here,

and here.

Yup, still op shopping.  I also now have a legitimate reason to obsessively scour through Trademe as I am helping a friend in Christchurch to furnish her new office.  Our most exciting find so far is a huge set of String style mid-century shelving - for $30.

I am finally teaching my daughter to sew by working with her to create her costume for this year's Supanova Pop Culture Convention where last year we spotted the cutest Doctor Who ever.

So plenty of play for everyone but now I really do need to get back to doing some work.  I have been offered a very exciting (and a little bit scary) new role and I need to write up some ideas for a meeting. 

But I'll end with a wee skite about something that has come about as the result of absolute truckloads of work over the past three years by one member of this household and his workmates.  The Mandurah Performing Arts Centre won the 2013 APACA Drover Award for the Performing Arts Centre of the Year.  Woohoo!

That centre is certainly not run by dull boys - or girls.  There is so much happening there that so far I have had absolutely no need to seek entertainment just down the road from there ... at the bingo hall.

Immerse

I finally finished the "Immerse" project I mentioned in the previous post.  As some of you guessed it was wearable art.  Despite living in the land of The World of Wearable Art for most of my life, I was never once, even for a second, tempted to enter.  Basically it had always been on my Not To Do List.

But soon after I moved here I met a group of lovely and passionate people who were trying to get a new wearable art event off the ground for Mandurah's Stretch Arts Festival.  I must have said "wearable art isn't my thing" about twenty times before I finally gave up, thought to myself "just be supportive" and so said "go on then" instead.  I made a piece for their inaugural event in 2011 and at some stage I'll photograph it and show it to you.  Given my usual dislike for making useless things I basically made a quilt and a dress.

Last year I was working like a madwoman and ran another little project at Stretch as part of my job so had no time to make anything other than dinners.  This year, in a moment of weakness and much to my daughter's surprise, I again said Yes, albeit ten minutes before the entry cutoff time.

There are reasons why wearable art isn't my thing so to avoid these I set myself a few criteria.  I was determined that my entry would a) not scare small children, b) not scare any of us more delicate adults, c) be a simple design, d) only use one material and e) not cost me more than a few gold coins to make.  Then my partner brought home a huge pile of superseded advertising banners from his workplace because he doesn't like throwing things out and he thought I might be able to make something out of them.  I looked at the lovely watery colours of the banners and the words on them which were Immerse and Splash.  I thought about the theme for this year's Stretch Festival which is Identity.  Lately I have been mucking around with smocking so I played with the banner fabric and made the huge smocked samples in the previous post.  I finally finished my entry a few minutes before I was due to collect my gorgeous model (a former workmate) to go to the judging event. 

Here is the longer version of what I wrote as the didactic for my entry.  (Writing this stuff is so odd.  It is a frock.  With a mental hat!)

Immerse.
My piece is about two sorts of “immersion” and how these have changed my Identity since moving to Mandurah.
Firstly, I now spend a lot of time in and around water; I soon realised that to not do so here would be huge missed opportunity. I have discovered kayaking and am finally learning to swim. The colour and movement of Mandurah's beautiful waterways entrance me.
Secondly, in this piece I am playing with connection, expansion and changing direction as these are all things that immersion in the local arts scene has given me via a constant stream of wonderful opportunities.

So there above and below it is.  Many thanks to my amazing model.  (Sadly I don't look like that in it.  I look certifiable.)

Seeing all the weird and wonderful directions the entrants went in was fascinating especially given that we all started from the same point: the word Identity.  During the main Stretch Festival weekend there will be a public event where all the entries will be showcased.  Details are as follows:

Common Threads of Identity Wearable Art Showcase
Sunday May 5th 2013 at 3.00pm
Boardwalk Theatre, Mandurah Performing Arts Centre
Come along to this free, ticketed show to see all the wearable art entries in all their glory.
Collect your free tickets from Mandurah Library, Falcon eLibrary and Community Centre or the Mandurah Performing Arts Centre.

The winners will be announced at that event but I must admit I'm not bothered as I have already had the ultimate positive feedback.  In the car on the way home from the private judging event where these photographs were taken my daughter said in a somewhat surprised voice, "Mum, it looked really good!"

Now that I have ticked that off my Not To Do List (again) it is time for A cup of tea and a lie down, which incidentally was the name of my 2011 entry.

The year of saying "Yes!"

One of the great joys of not having most of my waking moments taken up with paid work is that when other interesting opportunities arise I can actually say "Yes!" 

Now that I again have two children at the one school I have finally said Yes to joining the P&C (PTA).  In my capacity as an opinionated bigmouth I was invited to participate in a series of scenario planning workshops for the Peel region run by Regional Development Australia, Peel.  I am very pleased I said Yes as it was a great experience and I met some excellent people.  I also said Yes to attending a series of professional development workshops presented by the local contemporary art gallery.  Then I said Yes to being a voluntary gallery attendant at the same gallery on an ongoing basis and am loving my time there. 

I have also said Yes to participating in various projects at Mandurah's annual community arts festival: Stretch.  One of these is in a paid capacity but the others are just for fun. 

Pictured above and below is a house I made for an exhibition at Stretch called My Place.  All the participants were given a plain wooden house which we then decorated to turn it into My Place.  I loved the house in its plain state as it looked like a Pixie House so I was tempted to simply paint it up like a Warren and Mahoney pixie but nobody here would get it.  (If you don't get it either look at the lovely Pixie of the Day tumblr.) 

I am not an artist and I still have an issue with making useless things (the issue is that I don't like doing it) so I turned my house into a card box house which, if it doesn't get trashed during the exhibition, I will eventually keep my crochet kit in. 

The didactic that goes with it is:
A Room of One's Own
I am a maker and often have several projects on the go at a time: this can be messy!  My favourite creations involve contemporary interpretations of traditional textile handcrafts.  At the moment I don't have a space to work in so the next project on my "To make" list is a workroom.

Ironically all this making of pretend workrooms has of course slowed down the work on the real house and real workroom.  Never mind, it was fun and soon Stretch will be over for another year and I won't have so many lovely things to distract me.

Here are some pictures of one of the other projects I am working on for Stretch.  Firstly the inspiration (Pics stolen from all over interwebland. Oops.)

Then progress so far.

This one is called Immerse and as you can see it is still just a work in progress.  This odd project will take a bit more explaining at some point; in the past if I had been asked to do this I would probably have said that I would rather stick pins in my eyes.  But there we are.  Things have changed.  Saying Yes will do that.

Vote for King Edward!

This sad image of the few spud varieties allowed in WA was swiped from the website of Western Potatoes.

I'm still loving having the time to plug away at various home improvement projects and am in no danger of getting bored yet.  However if I ever do get bored I have found a rather absurd and particularly Western Australian way to amuse myself.  I'm going to load up my tiny car with over 50 kg of potatoes and drive around in the hope that an inspector will stop and search my vehicle. 

I was warned before we moved here that Western Australia had many bizarre or perplexing regulations.  The warners were not kidding.  I've lost count of the number of times I've wondered why some ordinary everyday thing either doesn't exist here or only exists in an old-fashioned way that I am familiar with from my small-town New Zealand childhood.  Often this situation is just interesting, but sometimes it is also jolly annoying.

One of WA's most antiquated laws is the Monty Pythonesque Marketing of Potatoes Act 1946.  Enshrined in that law is the ability for potato inspectors to stop and search vehicles carrying too many potatoes.  This would simply be comical except for the fact that that law also restricts WA potato growers to only ever growing 13 of the 66 varieties of potatoes grown commercially in Australia.  I'm not making this up and these restrictions aren't in place to prevent the spread of diseases, which I would understand.  Via this odd law Western Potatoes and the Potato Marketing Corporation of Western Australia also restrict how many potatoes growers can grow and at what price they can sell them.  My local supermarkets only ever stock two or three varieties at a time and one of them is always that trusty but dreary wallflower: Nadine.  I've never thought of myself as a foodie but I find life in WA decidedly deprived in the spud department.

So forget finding any of the planet's 4000 or so other crazy potato varieties at farmers' markets here.  My attempts to source interesting varieties to grow have also failed; my days of walking out the back door to harvest small, nutty, black-skinned Maori potatoes or huge, yellow sweet potatoes or any other waxy or starchy beauties are just a distant memory.

So it was with some interest that I noticed that potatoes have become a campaign issue in the upcoming state elections.  The Western Australian Labor Party is pledging to free up the sale of potatoes in Western Australia. We aren't Australian citizens (and never can be - too old) so we don't get to vote but if I could and I saw a candidate called Cliff Kidney, Jersey Bennes, Russett Burbank, Purple Congo or King Edward I'd be sorely tempted to vote for them.  Fingers crossed that however Western Australians vote, we'll all win a bit more choice over what we are allowed to eat sometime soon.