One of my favourite places in Sydney is the Library of NSW in historic Macquarie Street. So much to see, but one of the most interesting sections of the library is the ever changing Amaze Gallery.

Look what I spotted recently; a Victorian era recipe book about the size of a matchbox; 55x47mm. It concentrates on puddings, cakes and jellies. The tiny volume is called The Handbook of Practical Cookery; a bit ironic considering a magnifying glass is required to read it. Surely it should have been titled The Impractical Handbook of Practical Cookery.

The author, Matilda Lees Dods, was something of a celebrity. Ms. Dods was a teacher at a cooking school in London’s South Kensington. However, she would sally forth on speaking tours to the industrial towns of northern England and Scotland and even to the United States. She was a cross between Mrs Beeton and our own Galloping Gourmet, Graham Kerr.

Of course being a curious soul I had to zoom in and check out the recipe on the open page. It was Aunt Martha’s Pudding and sounded very similar to the steamed puddings my mother used to make when I was growing up in Tasmania.

I wasn’t too keen about the preserved cherries, but it seems Aunt Martha’s Pudding has spread widely, with variations such as sultanas or raisins to replace the cherries.

Here is something quite different. A ‘self portrait’ by Salvador Dali inspired by the pansy. Note the waxed mustache. It’s from a newly acquired portfolio of botanical images (well sort of botanical) by Dali. Each plant is given human characteristics in the artist’s inimical style. I doubt the portrait would qualify for entry in the Archibald Prize.

Remember the recent craze for adult colouring books? They’re not so new after all. The emphasis is definitely on ‘adult’ here.

AMAZE THE LITTLE ONES TOO!

There is often something to engage children in the gallery and currently it’s making a telescope. My associate Editor Des did his best, although I’m not sure he followed instructions properly.

When you have finished your visit to Amaze you can pop up to the new rooftop bar for a cocktail and a snack.

The views from the patio will amaze you as well.

MORE ON THE LIBRARY OF NSW.

Hello, Editor Des here. We have been doing a lot landscaping around our new house, digging trenches for pipes and stuff like that. I was helping the men the other day when I spotted something VERY interesting.

It looked a bit like the moon, or a miniature fallen planet, but my guardian Pauline Conolly told me it might be a musket ball from the un-civil war. Wow! She suggested I take it down to Sydney and show it to the people at the Australian Museum. It was a bit hard to fit in my case, but I managed to tie it closed with a length of rope, after I sat on the lid.

Off to the museum. I hid the artefact under my jumper, just in case I was mugged by a rival collector on the way. These things can be worth a fortune.

The people in the research part said they would do some tests and carbon dating. They told me I should come back the next day for the results. How exciting!

FIND NUMBER TWO

Meanwhile, look what else I found. It’s a broken angel’s wing….possibly Greek. Pauline said it’s a metafore, sorry metaphor (had to look that up ) for the current state of the world. Oh dear, and she is usually such an optimistic old soul. I left this treasure in the garden because it seemed a bit wrong to disturb an angel by digging the rest of him/her up. Contrary to what some people might say, I’m quite a sensitive soul.

AND THE ANSWER IS…..

OK, I suppose I have to tell you. The Museum’s tests came back. Oh dear, they said my artefact is a VERY early tennis ball. Good grief…I burst into tears, but the lady expert told me, ‘Cheer up Editor Des. It was quite possibly one hit by the Australian super star and grand slam winner Mr Rod Laver!‘

EDITOR DES – HIS BEST FIND YET

I was still disappointed, well who wouldn’t be? However, Pauline said she would show me something truly amazing around the back of the State Library. It’s stuck on a Moreton Bay fig tree. Well she said that what you can see me sitting on is an old piece of dinosaur poo. Isn’t that just amaze-BALLS? It really deserves a plaque; ‘DISCOVERED BY EDITOR DES (with a tiny bit of help from Pauline Conolly)’

I wonder if the Museum would be interested?

For more information on The Australian Museum, CLCK HERE

A stump does not have to symbolize the end of a tree’s usefulness. Tiny, insect eating birds such as wrens and robins often choose one as a low level look-out post.

Meanwhile I have fun with stumps as ‘garden art’. That variegated rhodo hat would not look out place at the Melbourne Cup.

And here is anther very ‘cool’ hat for Miss Stump. The base was actually the ice from a bird bath. I rather like the understated grevillea trim.

On a more practical level, stumps make great garden seats. Here is one beneath my Japanese maples. It’s delightful to sit here with a book and a cup of tea on a sunny autumn day.

Of course, if you live in Australia there is one hazard with stump seats; spiders like to make their homes in them. I have a nasty feeling the one in the following photo might be a deadly funnel web. A bite on the bottom would be extremely unpleasant.

Here is a solution…..try and move that rock Mr Spider!

This old eucalypt stump is the perfect platform for an insect house.

AT THE WOOD HEAP

The stump shown below is from an old acacia tree. Acacia wood is one of the hardest and densest woods of all. This one was almost petrified. It was cut with a chainsaw. Rather lovely really.

I’m afraid it defeated my little electric saw. Back to the chainsaw if I want small enough pieces for firewood.

Three snapped blades!

If I had any woodworking skills I could make something beautiful, like this acacia wood salt pot.

And here is a much thinner section of acacia. The pink is paint from the blade of my saw, which struggled to cut even this piece. Hardly any sawdust is produced, just a tiny bit of what looks like fine, black pepper. It burned all night in our wood stove.

STUMP TINDER

OK, so sometimes you might find a damp old stump that has almost completely rotted away in the centre, but believe me it’s pure gold. What you have to do is separate the outer ‘shell’ with your axe or splitter and leave it to dry out. It will end up as light as cork. Sometimes I have a row of tinder drying out, rather like sun drying tomatoes.

And there you go….no fire starter required. Just put a match to a small section of tinder. Even my associate Editor Des can do it.

It’s always such a loss when a tree has to go. Toll the bell for them Editor Des.

FOR MORE IDEAS USING PLANTS AND OLD STUMPS, CLICK HERE.

I have a bit of an obsession with miniature bicycles. It began at the West Ulverstone primary school when I was in grade five and fell in love with a boy called Lee Dunston. Lee had a wonderful green trike, which was designed as a pencil sharpener.

He used to give me those old-fashioned conversation sweets at lunch time, but it was really the trike I wanted.

Sadly, the wretched boy shifted his affection to Irene Anderson, after performing with her in a school play. I looked him up on Facebook one day and was tempted to ‘friend’ him. I was going to ask if he still had the trike, and if so….could I have it? Of course I didn’t go through with it….what if he said he had given it to Irene Anderson all those years ago. I’d never get over it!

The little bicycle pictured below is the closest I can find to it.

As an adult I am still drawn to bicycles, especially miniature versions. I don’t actively collect them, but I do seem to have gathered a few.

This one was made from wire, by an elderly man near Sydney’s Central Station. Isn’t it clever?

I bought this one from the Blackheath antiques centre for my associate Editor Des.

We live in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales at Blackheath, where the main claim to fame is our annual Rhododendron Festival. I decorated Des’s trike one year, and it was very much admired.

Despite the rhodo festival success, Des has never been happy with his trusty (rusty) old trike, hankering instead after a red sports car (well, I wouldn’t mind one myself! ) or at least a two-wheeler.

I suggested he might settle for this red fireman’s bicycle. Far more practical than a sports car. We are prone to bushfires in the Blue Mountains. But no, he said he didn’t want to put himself in danger.

It was when his girlfriend Milly was given a snazzy two-wheeler purchased in trendy Leura that he really felt hard done by.

When Milly wasn’t looking, the silly fellow tried to ride the new bike, but as you can see he is far too big for it.

He was last spotted leaving for Sydney in the hope of picking up a racing model at the spring sales.

I think this is what he has in mind; a king among baby bicycles, guaranteed to make a bear’s heart beat a little faster.

THERE IS A FACEBOOK PAGE ON MINIATURE BICYCLES

Cash is dead… well on its knees anyway, especially change lower in value than a 50 cent piece. Like most people I now pay for almost everything with my credit card. Nevertheless, my partner Rob and I have accumulated dozens of two bob bits (20 cent pieces). What to do with them? They are far too heavy to lug around for tip jars in cafes; let’s face it you would need at least ten to show appropriate appreciation for a well made coffee.

My associate Editor Des heard Rob and I discussing this and he decided to make an executive decision.

I caught him upstairs in the study, busy with scissors, stickers and a pink post-it-note. He told me he was going to leave the money in the mini library up by the church hall in Wentworth Street.

Well Editor Des, I have to say I’m impressed by your decision to pass the change on to a child, even though I wasn’t consulted. A little person might play shops with it, or spend the dollars on marshmallows from Blackheath Creative. But here’s a thought, in the spirit of reading, it could be put towards a present from Glee Books.

There was someone else at the library when we arrived, so we had to go to the bakery and come back later. Des tried to pretend he wanted to be an anonymous benefactor, but the truth is, he is inclined to shyness ….. believe it or not.

While he was placing his box of change I noticed something wonderful. A dear person had donated a copy of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine. My GP Louise recommended this book soon after it came out, but somehow I hadn’t read it. I call that serendipity.

By the way, it’s not the first time Editor Des has left change in the little library. Once he put in a pot of my gold. I just hope he doesn’t take it into his head to leave my credit cards there.

FOOTNOTE – What did we buy at the Wentworth Street Bakery? Berry French tarts, because there are still no Hot Cross Buns.

My associate Editor Des feels he is defined by his jumper, which is the item of clothing he has worn almost constantly throughout his 23 years (no pants, and only rarely a hat). Unfortunately he has always hated having TEDDY across the front; excruciatingly juvenile he believes. Plus, people he meets when we are out and about tend to call him TED, instead of DES. Well I understand his annoyance.

Anyway, he confided this to a lovely Tasmanian lady called Josephine Carswell recently and she generously offered to knit him a new jumper. Reflecting my own family connection to Tasmania it was to have a Leatherwood flower motif on the back. Yes, the blossom we have to thank for providing us with that world famous honey.

We did some measurements, allowing for any increased corpulence in the future. I’m afraid Desmond was completely uncooperative during this exercise so it took a lot longer than anticipated. I had to resort to certain threats, but at least the strategy worked.

So then it was simply a matter of waiting until Jo’s work was done and the postie arrived. Good grief, Des sat waiting for long that his bottom went numb on the cold letterbox. I had to find a little cushion for him.

Oh the excitement when it arrived. He whipped off the old and pulled on the new. A great fit.

Look, it’s the colour of golden Leatherwood honey. Pretty smart don’t you think?

It even came with washing instructions. So thoughtful.

Mind you, Des thought that laying flat referred to him. We don’t get much sun here in the Blue Mountains, but….

Don’t get crumbs on your new jumper Des or it will be into the washing machine with you. A napkin would have been a good idea, or a little plate.

There was such a sweet card included with the jumper. Clearly Miss Jo is a lover of honey bees;

Editor Des; ‘Yes Miss Jo, bees are magnificent…unless one stings you on the nose!‘

The card itself is by a talented Tasmanian artist called Kristy Burgess. Here is her website. The site is called ‘Far into the forest art.’ How appropriate.

Oh my goodness Des, what do you think you’re doing?? Put that match out immediately. You will still need your Aussie green and gold jumper to wear on major sporting occasions. Remember…. the Ashes are coming up. For heavens sake….we nearly had ashes of your old jumper!

OK, anything you would like to say to the kindly Miss Jo, Desmond?

Wow, did you make that card yourself Des? ‘Yes, I did.’ ’

My guardian Pauline Conolly and I were digging a hole for a little maple a few weeks ago when we found buried treasure…and that’s no yoke, I mean joke (sorry) . It was hidden under dirt and decaying leaves.

Pauline told me it might be one of those ‘thousand year old’ eggs they sell in Sydney’s Chinatown. Apparently they are a culinary delicacy.

Or it could be a miniature version of the extinct Elephant Bird’s egg …. like this one our friend Errol is holding. It had an auction guide of £50,000. Sadly, it’s unlikely to be one of those beauties.

Oh well, might as well see what it tastes like. I was boiling some water when Pauline said;

‘You won’t need to cook it Sweetie, because it will have been preserved by the passing of time’. ‘Oh, and don’t clean it, that encrustation is part of its allure.‘ Really? Sweetie…so patronizing.

I was just about to get a spoon to crack the top of the egg when she said. ‘Wait! Pop up to the study and look at the date, Des.’

Oh very funny…not!

OK, it’s not very exciting, but we think the egg came from our neighbour Rick across the laneway. He keeps chickens, but they might be descended from Elephant Birds for all I know. Perhaps it was stashed in the undergrowth by a thieving crow, or more likely by a wretched fox.

RECOMPENCE WOULD BE EGG-SELLENT

I think this gift may have been an expression of regret over a very stupid prank by a certain person. However, it needs to be a very much larger egg before I can forgive.

For example, this speckled brown one would be acceptable. It’s nearly as big as Errol’s Elephant Egg. Its scientific name is, I believe, Ferrero Rocher.

Happy Easter everyone.

Desmond, aka Editor Des, has been sitting at the woodheap bird watching with his mate Bob Banksia; full name Mr Robert Banksia Serrata. They have been hoping to see the arrival of the blue wrens. No luck so far and I think the tension must have led to a bit of a quarrel. Des ended up face down in the dirt. He should have remembered our Australian author May Gibbs and her tales of ‘big bad banksia men.’ Their aggression is legend, and it lies just below the surface.

One swipe of Bob’s serrated green foot and Des was lying face down in the dirt.

Oh for heavens sake, look at your face. Time for a consoling cuddle, an early supper, then into the bath.

Look Sweetie, here’s a warm towel thanks to Mr Rob installing heated towel racks. Oh, I nearly missed those suds on your sore nose.

OK, hair and teeth now please Desmond. What on earth have you done with your toothbrush? No, it is not in your bathroom bag. And no, you cannot use your paw. For heaven’s sake, I’ll have to lend you mine.

Alright, now into bed. Goodnight my poppet, I hope you don’t have nightmares. Just wondering….are you still going to be friends with Bob?

‘No, he’s just a big hairy bully.’ By the way, I’m cold in here.

Fair go, how can you be cold with that fur coat?? Go to sleep!

REVENGE ON BOB BANKSIA

I didn’t think Des would be keen on returning to the woodheap, but off he went straight after his porridge with a bit of a glint in his eye.

As I was making the bed I looked out and saw him grab Bob by the fellow’s thin green legs.

Next thing they were both on the ground and Desmond had forced his adversary into submission. Atta boy! Now make him apologize.

And do you know what? He did, just before he ran away!

I don’t like to promote violence on this site, but sometimes…..

Here are some of Bob’s cousins, who live locally. Wow, I hope they don’t gang up on Des.

Here is the leader of the pack, Flash Jack…..OMG!

Good fences create good neighbours.

For more information on Bob’s family, CLICK HERE.

Gardens are places of wonder, especially one like mine that borders the Australian bush. Here in the NSW Blue Mountains  a  eucalyptus tree was the source of great fun recently, but also a sad tale of pride coming before a fall.

Sometimes a  tree, in this case I believe it is a Mountain Ash (Eucalyptus regnans) will release a long, long strip of bark. This one must have measured nearly five metres. My associate Editor Des and his friends Milly and Little Jack  were desperate to climb it, and I really couldn’t blame them.

Eucalyptus bark rope.

Oh the fun the three of them had, swinging in the breeze by the woodheap.

A EUCALYPTUS SWING

Now this all sounds delightful, and so it was…except for my own  stupidity.

OK, so I haven’t worn jeans since I was sixty, in the spirit of trying to grow old gracefully. However, more than ten years on I found an old pair  and was amazed that they still fitted me. Oh vanity, thy name is Pauline. I was so pleased that I decided to leave them on for the day.

A dangerous pair of pants.

Now those wretched jeans tricked me into thinking I was a fit young woman and I climbed onto an old chair to help Editor Des back down the bark ‘rope’.  He was quite a bit higher up than his friends and had lost his nerve. The ground was uneven and  to make matters worse, the seat of the chair is made of  thick rubber bands. OMG, no wonder  I overbalanced and came crashing down into a banksia.

An accident waiting to happen.

Editor Des ended up in a grevillea bush, shaken but unhurt.

Good grief!

I nearly broke an arm and couple of fingers. It’s difficult to see in the following pic, but  there was a lump  the size of the proverbial egg.

When I went out next day the chair was in nearly as much trouble as me….struggling in the clutches of a dry, brown ‘snake’.   Honestly, there is something  very creepy about that bark. It has a life of its own.

There was only one, rather drastic solution. Yes, revenge is sweet.

Hello, this is your Christmas correspondent, Editor Des.

Have you heard of a Santa’s  Nice List?

Well a lovely lady called Amelia  at our village laundromat put one up in her front window. It’s in Wentworth Street at Blackheath. That’s in the Blue Mountains in case you don’t know.

I should be on there!

People could nominate suitable youngsters, but unfortunately (and very unfairly), nobody suggested me.

Anyway, I consider myself extremely nice, so I asked if I could go on the list. Straight away Miss Amelia  said ‘Of course you can sweet Desmond!‘

Yesterday I persuaded my guardian Pauline Conolly to take me up so I could show her my name. See, the thing is she doesn’t always appreciate what a little gem I am! This is despite the fact that I gave her all the potatoes I grew this year.

I was looking down  the lists for DESMOND C, but much to my horror it didn’t seem to be there.  Pauline smirked and  said, ‘Looks as if you didn’t make the grade  after all Mate. What a terrible shame. Do you think someone caught you smoking?’

Where oh where am I?

OMG!! I did post a smoke & grog  pic on social media the other day, but it was just a joke…honestly. Surely nobody told Miss Amelia  about that?

And then wretched Pauline started giggling and pointed to a name. ‘Haha. Look, there you are. Oh, how funny.  Well you are a bit of a demon, Des,’

OH…, !#@!*#!! How can this be?

That’s it! Christmas is stupid and so is Santa.

I’m not one to sulk, but….

FOOTNOTE – Pauline says she has written to the North Pole about Santa’s Nice List  and explained everything,  but  can I trust her?  Probably not, because I suspect she had a hand in the  corruption of my name.

FOOTNOTE TO A FOOTNOTE –  Oh wow, Miss Amelia has put up another list now. I might arrange to have PAULINE C. put on it. That would teach her a lesson, wouldn’t it?

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. AS FOR ME, WELL, I WILL TRY TO RALLY AROUND BY THEN.