Just because it's called Rainbow, doesn't mean it's a hippy commune!

Is there such a place as Paradise On Earth? I suspect one's options on this expand considerably in line with one's tolerance to mould. I love Cairns. No, I do...it's just that the first third of the year always brings with it a constant battle against the forces of evil. I mean, mould. Ahem.

As pre-empted a while ago, I just went to Northern New South Wales to visit some beloved friends and their munchkins as part of my grand Farewell to Oz Tour. I've only been to Northern New South Wales once before as an adult, in the mid-'90s, and I have a very Romantic view of it as one of the most beautiful places to live in Australia. It is also the hippy 'capital' of the country. I think I had been there less than 24 hours this time when Jane drew my attention to a jacket that she'd just pulled out of the wardrobe that was fluffy with subtropical mould. Cue needle dragging across a record...

But if you can get over that (or yourself, and Lord knows I need to do a bit more of that of late!), then gee willikers it's pretty. My friends live near The Channon. There's a creek at the bottom of their driveway and a waterfall at the end of their road. They live on a multiple occupancy intentional community, on which the husband grew up. And yes, it's called Rainbow. No social profiling, please! They are building their own solar-powered, composting toileted, hempcrete-lined, passive solar, recycled or reclaimed when possible, totally awesome home that looks straight out into rainforest. It's truly beautiful and very contemporary in design.

Chedy's mum still lives on the community. She's a ceramicist and a fanatical collector of vintage objects and textiles. I was lucky enough to sleep in an alcove of her studio and woke up each morning to total eye candy of old kitchenalia and a ceramicist's tools of the trade. Heaven for me! She had a very established orchard and veggie patch, and here's what's so great about this region: rosemary grew next to pineapples, roses grew next to pawpaws, Brazilian cherries grew alongside grapefruit, and both strawberries and bananas looked happy. For a gardener like me that's a pretty impressive interzone of domestic food crops! It wasn't long before I was emailing Charles to suggest that maybe Northern New South Wales could be a good  spot for us eventually, if we find our way back to Australia. The big, fat kookaburras and the mix of rainforest and eucalypts were giving me a pre-emptive strike of homesickness, too.

That's about it for the blabbing. I mostly wanted to get back in the writing saddle today, and I'll leave you with more pictures than words. Please find here some images of a very extended Anzac Day long weekend holiday: the 'Goldie' from Coolangatta; views from the Pinnacle looking out to Mt Warning; happy snaps from Rainbow; and the mandatory trip to Byron Bay, at the Tallow Beach end.

 

 

 The End

Saving things for best

I've had a couple of conversations in the last week or so about the notion of 'saving things for best' and whether people live with and use their treasures every day, or if they keep them shut away in a cupboard waiting for special occasions.

One dear friend was discussing the cutlery set she got as a wedding gift—very ex-y, very lovely—and how her mum freaked when she found out she was using it every day. As it was a wedding gift, apparently she wasn't meant to use it much. My friend conceded that she was probably going too far when she occasionally used the knives as makeshift screwdrivers, but she loved the cutlery—it added special to the everyday, was a bit of luxury in her otherwise 'starving-artist' life, and it pleased her to use it. Also, because it was such good quality, it was standing up to daily use.

I collect vintage glasses. I've used them for years, but I've really gone into overdrive hoarding them for my wedding reception. If you go 'down the oppy', on a good day you can really score and in the end, apart from my time, it is actually going to be cheaper to buy them this way than hire ugly ones. However, I always feel a great sense of responsibility with vintage items. I get really upset if I break a vintage glass or stain a vintage dress soon after I have purchased it. Sure, I can talk myself through it, but my grief is over the fact that something beautiful and delicate has had a long life, sometimes 50 or 60 years, and then—bam!—two weeks with me and it's cactus! Yikes!

Some of my most treasured possessions are my nana's and my grandma's tea sets. They're all mixed in together now and I generally can't remember which was whose, but it is really important for me to know I have them, even though I only lay eyes on them once a month or so because, yes, I keep them in a cupboard. I have lived in my house for over three and a half years and I only remember using them once in that whole time. In fact, I think it was a house guest who took them out to use, not knowing. However, I have decided to bring them out to use at the wedding and I was discussing this with my fiancé the other day. Yes, they may get broken (alright, maybe I'll leave my favourite set at home, it's the blue one, pictured above), but really, if I can't find a better reason to use something that I save for best than to use it at our wedding, then what am I waiting for? By having them there, in use, it will be a little like having Nana and Grandma there, too. That's a thought that makes me very happy. If any of them get broken, well, it was for a good cause, and surely that is a better way for them to meet their demise than if I break one dusting it for the fifteenth time since I last used it?

Blathering on about this notion over Skype last weekend, my beloved piped up with, "There's a blog post for you!" Given that I've just turned 42 and have never been married before, it's moments like that that make me realise I have been saving myself for best, too.

But tell me, do you use your precious things, do you squirrel them away, or are you, like me, trying to overcome your tendencies?


PS On a related topic, one of my favourite posts on Bek Misic's beautiful blog, Traces, deals with a Buddhist teacher's notion of a glass already being broken and being able to appreciate things when you are with them and not holding attachment when they are gone. It's a great post—go check it out!