Tag Archives: alicesprings

an affection for confection…

30 Sunday May 2021

Posted by in Alice Springs, humour

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I walked an hour to get a bakery item. Well, strictly speaking I only walked 15 minutes for said item because I usually go for a 30-45 minute walk each morning anyway, and the walk to The Bakery only requires about another 15 minutes. But for this particular bakery item I would walk a full hour if necessary. We do have a car but that morning I decided to combine purposes of exercise and getting the object of my confection addiction into one. As it turned out it was more of a sensory experience than I’d planned.

Tired of listening to my usual podcasts I decided to listen to an ebook I bought a while back. Michael Caine’s ‘Blowing the Bloody Doors Off’ was a good choice, interesting, entertaining and you get to hear his great voice as well. Might have been a strong undercurrent message with that title and my mood…

Fledgling Crested Pigeon (much smaller than it looks in this photo)

The thermometer read 6C, a see-your-breath nippy morning! I rugged up and took off a bit after 7am before I had a chance to change my mind. On the way out the door I grabbed the bird seed and fed the birds as well. I wondered if there were so many of them because word had spread of my heroic effort to save a young crested pigeon the day before. It had been attacked by a large crow and was traumatised as well as minus a few tail feathers, so for a few hours I watched over it and then when it suddenly came good I opened the box and it flew under the eave on the front verandah and finally off into the warm afternoon. So all his relatives may have come to thank me by eating my seed? Hmmm. Never mind, my heart is warm.

Early morning is a beautiful time of the day in late May. The sun is just coming up and casts long shafts of golden light between the shadows of the trees along the Todd River bed. So I paused often to photograph it for potential painting ideas.

Early morning along the Todd River

Recently it was Don’s turn to procure our weekly multi-grain sourdough loaf and to get each of us a sweet treat only to find my favourite almond croissant wasn’t available that day. I settled for a piece of his pistachio scroll. Life is torturous at times. I’ve been trying to hold off having the almond beauty to only every few weeks. That way my jeans still fit and it remains a  much anticipated treat and doesn’t get old hat. Who wants to eat an old hat, I ask you?

The last time Don was at The Bakery a lady in front of him asked for an almond croissant and then asked if they would shake it so that the sugar and almonds on the top fall off before they put it in the bag. If you were that person, forgive my judgment but what were you thinking??? First of all, the marzipan filling would still mean there was almond and sugar in it, and secondly, couldn’t  you do that yourself and save the hurt feelings of the poor baker who had been up since 2am baking such a heavenly treat as would make angels weep? Honestly, is it any wonder there are people like me who embrace their introversion…rhetorical question, does not need answering.

My confection addiction, Almond Croissant from The Bakery, Alice Springs

After a small bowl of fruit and yogurt studded with a couple of tablespoons of homemade granola, I carefully removed 1/3 of the croissant to finish my repast. Another third of it was consumed with a cup of tea mid-morning, and the final third was my dessert that evening after a bowl of lentil soup. Left to my own devices, I do live wild and loose.

Be well.

Note: It appears WordPress has made more ‘improvements’ to their system and this post has behaved very oddly in its assembly, so please let me know if anything is amiss…ardysz@mac.com

giddyup to the coffee horse…

17 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by in Alice Springs, Food

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To say I don’t get out much would probably be an understatement. I’m not a gadabout when we are in town. I don’t like crowds so I don’t even attend exhibition openings, choosing to go after the opening to see an exhibition. I see many amazing sights when we travel so when I’m at home, I’m at home…except… that my good friend introduced me to the Coffee Horse.

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My good friend, Betty helping me solve the problems of the world! Note the rocky outcrop in the distance.

It is hard to put into exact words why the Coffee Horse has me infatuated, but it does. Betty feels the same. Some of the reasons we love living in Alice Springs are the down to earth experiences of having the bushland nearby, a thriving arts community and people wanting to ‘have a go’ at doing something a bit unusual.  Coffee Horse has it all. I hope I haven’t gone and spoiled it now that I’ve let the cat out of the bag! We also like that Alice is a small enough place that you can get to know the owners of the various shops, but big enough to be anonymous if you want to be…more or less.

Of course the flip side of our isolated, small town life is that we sometimes long for the finer things the city can offer. Recently, and arguably, our best hairdresser in town closed its doors after 36 years and some of us are mourning the loss and wondering if we are doomed to be follicle-ly challenged for the remainder of our days. So, it is with great appreciation, that we have discovered another place which feels special.

Many of you will have seen or procured coffee from a ‘coffee van’. On our recent travels a coffee van in the middle of nowhere seemed like a little miracle. One coffee-less morning on a lonely stretch of road in New Zealand, my husband and I saw a handwritten sign, alerting us that we could get ‘good coffee to go’–on a stretch of road that looked highly improbable. In fact my husband stated his doubts aloud, in the form of a chuckle when I proposed we might find coffee on the road between Franz Josef and Haast. He further expressed doubt as to the quality of such a find, to which I responded, ‘you can get a very good cup of coffee from a coffee van’. Moments later, like a mirage in the wilderness, there it was, the coffee van. Festive flags motioning us with their siren-call-promise of a great coffee. It was all true. I promise. It’s not often I’m right, but on this occasion I was…absolutely.

Salted Caramel Cheesecake beacons!
Who is that hanging about over my shoulder???
Good coffee and a little sewing or reading, thank you very much.

Meanwhile back in Alice…The Coffee Horse is an unassuming, small, repurposed caravan, located on a lot with a thriving art supply and framing business. Also, located next to it on the same lot is a shoemaker. I don’t mean a shoe repairer, I mean a shoe-maker of fine custom fitted shoes, for which you have to wait. Quality takes time. His website says requests are currently closed but you can leave a contact when there is an opening. Good for him. Sprinkled about the grounds is evidence of the creative hearts that have passed through this place—sculptures made from ‘junque’ and repurposed items —one person’s trash is another’s treasure…

At the back of the lot, behind the outbuildings, sits one of Alice’s many rocky outcrops. Sometimes when we are sitting and soaking up the winter sun, or shaded from the heat in summer, you can see kangaroos hopping through the scrub. Now you don’t get that in a city cafe!

People from all around this light industrial area come to fill their ‘keep cups’ and have a break from their day.  Some buy the custom made pottery cups, or opt for the standard, mismatched mugs and cups. The coffee that fills them is second to none. Decaf is my poison of choice and it is as good as any I’ve ever had. They make lovely toasted sandwiches (I’ve heard) and their vegan, grain-free treats are delicious (I’ve dabbled). There is no loud music playing, just the coming and going and quiet conversations of patrons. Some quietly indulge in a book, or sewing, others have their heads down in their phones, though I don’t see that very often. Most people are quietly chatting and laughing. It is a happy place. Even Alison, who operates this little oasis, gets a short break now and then. You can find the Coffee Horse on Instagram. Her new creation opens at a second location, near Watch This Space Gallery, next week. It will be called the ‘Silver Brumby’–a ‘brumby’ is a wild horse. We will check it out and report back to you.

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Creator of the Coffee Horse, Alison, soaking up some winter sun.

Who would have thought a young woman with an old repurposed caravan could draw me out of my house and into an alternative comfort zone?

In Alison’s words ‘May the horse be with you!’ And with you Alison…and with you.

 

**I have not received any payment or even free coffee for this post, I just thought you might enjoy this slice of Alice Springs life.

a survival story…

12 Thursday Jul 2018

Posted by in Animals, nature

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Let me set the scene for you. It is the day after the twelve boys and their coach have been rescued from the cave in Thailand. It is a winter morning and -3C (26F) outside. I prevaricate over my usual morning walk. Will I? Won’t I? Gee it is cold. Those 12 children and their young coach got through 16 days trapped in a cave, surely I can put on my nice warm clothes and walk for 50 minutes.

I jogged up the hill near my house, walked 30 metres or so to catch my breath and then decided more jogging must happen to warm up. As I jog down the other side of the hill, still trying to get my blood pumping, I see some scavenger birds circling a distant, dark shape on the fairway of the fourth hole (we live on a golf course). A few more metres and I realise the shape is a Dingo feeding…on a dead kangaroo. I pull my camera (which is my iPhone) from my pocket and open it up, hoping that my cold fingers can still get the touch controls to work. I take a photo that I know will show very little, but it is just to get the settings right and make sure the touch control is working. As is my usual practice with wild life, I slow down. As I approach, every few metres, I take another photo, and another, refocusing and getting closer each time.

The birds of prey begin to scatter. The Dingo eyes me nervously but he is hungry, so he continues. Finally, he thinks I am too close and he reluctantly begins to head toward the taller grasses at the edge of the course, looking back over his shoulder all the while. He still doesn’t want to leave his meal behind so he stops…and watches me. I’m relieved that he is somewhat afraid of me since I am walking alone and have no means of fending off an attack. He has what he wants anyway, and that is not me.

I quietly walk on and soon am getting farther away. He decides I mean him no harm and he approaches the carcass again. Now I can see the bloody bare bones of the rib cage but I know if I stop it will spook him so I continue on. I don’t want a graphic photo of the corpse in any case. I know this is Mother Nature and all part of the survival of the fittest.

And what about those boys and their coach, and their rescuers? If that isn’t also a tale of survival, I must have missed something. The world is a marvel and a mystery, revealing itself every day.

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Dingo and dead kangaroo in the middle ground of the fairway

of lizards and life…

27 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by in Animals, nature

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For a few moments I melded with the sunlit rocky outcrop reflected in the glass. It was peaceful there without my mind unraveling its usual tale of woe.

Sips coffee.

Heart is wrenched at the thought of the old man who looked like my father, shuffling along in front of me a few days ago. As time goes I somehow miss him more. I thought it would all fade as the years passed.

Begins another day.

There are lizards in my life. As a personal animal totem–not necessarily mine, but maybe… a lizard can symbolise repetition of cycles. It can also mean a person is extremely good at facing their own fears and moving between realities and alternate existences. How does one know what is reality and what is otherworldly? Both can seem so real and yet so preposterous.

Our bearded dragon sits patiently in the tree near the patio, waiting for his lunch to crawl or fly past. Take away, fast food. Or sometimes he sits in the top of the rosemary bush, doing much the same, but the scenery is different. Now and then he trots out onto the golf course, a hundred feet or so in front of the house, and he sits. Frozen in the heat. Occasionally he raises a leg and holds it in the air, as if uncertain of his next move. Or he bobs his head up and down–now what is that about? Makes me smile.

a view of the mountain and perchance a snack?
a change of scenery from the rosemary bush

The pygmy goannas rent a holiday space in the rafters above the insulation in our house. They come and go and, except for years of mice in plague proportions, keep the house fairly rodent-free. Hearing the occasional scuffle in the ceiling is more reassuring than worrying. They sometimes peer at me through stored pots in the corner of the courtyard beside the clothesline. Is she friend or foe? I turn to hang a pillowcase, hear a soft sliding sound and look back in time to see a long dark tail disappearing into the roof space. Very occasionally I see them out and about, crawling through the courtyard, stopping frequently in case a snack is nearby. Once, in winter, I discovered them sunning on the side of the studio. Am guessing the rammed earth walls are very user friendly for their claws. They have been around this property since we moved here 20 years ago, and probably before that.

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pygmy goanna sunbather

Geckos are ubiquitous. They party at night when we are asleep, feasting on a banquet of mosquitoes, moths and insects, if the copious droppings are anything to go by. Our geckos almost never die in the house, thank goodness, but they love to shed their skins here. Every few months I find a gecko skin, nearly perfectly formed and left behind in the ledge of our bedroom window. The skins are translucent, soft and pliable. The window is always in dappled light, with leaf litter below and native bushes a few feet in front. It must seem a friendly space. I wonder what it feels like to not just metaphorically shed one’s skin?

after the shedding…
off with the old…

The art of my life is when I see things that evoke feelings which I am able to access and turn into words or drawings. I wish for you, lizards and alternate realities and a muse who will help you spin them into gold.

When we bring what is within out into the world, miracles happen. ~ Henry David Thoreau

early risings…

17 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by in Alice Springs, Life, nature, photography

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As I understand it, we tend to be either morning risers or night people. I can’t say with certainty if I was born with the early riser’s tendency, but it was certainly nurtured into me. I’ve been getting up before sunrise since I was very young. Those early summer mornings as a teen went mostly unappreciated, I must admit. Rising at 4.30 was to help Mom make umpteen sandwiches for my Dad and brothers to eat during their day of work at the Christmas tree farm. (Corsi Tree Farm is now operated by my brother, visit here) Fried bologna (fritz) sandwiches, unadorned, save a little mustard, is forever in my memory. None of us ever tired of eating them, only of making them! Lunches made, boys and father packed off to the farm, Mom and I would have breakfast and begin our daily chores at home. It was always a good feeling to know most of the day’s hard yakka was done by lunch time.

School started for us at 7.30am, so even when summer was over we had to wake early for five to use one bathroom and get to school and work. At 2.15 in the afternoon the bell would ring and we catapulted from our seats into after school activities or jobs. Growing up in this kind of environment created some very productive people!

These days I wake early, mostly because I can’t sleep any longer. It’s one of life’s ironies that when you reach a stage in life where you have time to sleep, you can’t. However I think I am, at heart, a morning person, so there are worse afflictions that could, and have, happened. 

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Probably my all time favourite photo, capturing my favourite phase of the moon, a bird, a tree and the sky at early dawn, all things I love.

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Pink virga and rainbow adorned sky

When the light is still tenuous is my very favourite time; moon still visible, a couple of stars perhaps, delicate symphony of morning chorus. If only it could last a little longer. Clear days produce stunning, ombré shaded skies…and flies. Cloudy skies hold the element of surprise…and even more flies. Hard to say which skies I love more. The flies I love not at all. Just this week, pink infused virga, defied gravity, evaporating before reaching the thirsty ground. Cloud and sun played hide and seek, sending shafts of light to illuminate mountain tips, tree tops and grasses before suddenly being swallowed by grey. As a light chaser, I am utterly compelled to photograph all of it, though my efforts are not always successful.

along rocky outcrops at the back of the golf course on a cloudy morning
along rocky outcrops at the back of the golf course this almost, clear morning

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Morning sky this week

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Galahs in gum tree

The first part of my walk is the quiet, contemplative stretch that takes me to the back of the golf course along rocky outcrops and where I seldom see any humans, but occasionally a dingo or kangaroo. Galahs tumble from their perches, wheeling through the sky and calling to each other. Occasionally some lunatic crested pigeons try to impress each other with mating manoeuvres while balancing on high wires. To each their own.

The second phase of the walk takes me toward civilisation where I encounter a few early risers like myself. Easing into the day, we nameless regulars make our rounds, loners like me as well as enthusiastic dogs accompanying their more sedate human companions. The last quarter of the walk is up my street where I can see who is moving in and out, who has put in a new garden, who has their garbage bin in place for weekly collection—who hasn’t bothered to bring it in from last week’s collection. Occasionally I have a brief conversation with a neighbour but mostly at that early hour, it is just a wave of recognition.IMG_6464

Sun reaches higher and burns away the long blue shadows of early morning. Soft golden highlights transform into harsh daylight, edging objects with brittle, little black seepages. Gone the promise. Enter reality, where earlier images are but shimmers in my mind.

Good morning from Central Australia.