"I couldn't quote you no Dickens, Shelley, or Keats..."

The MONA museum: http://www.mona.net.au/ 

is a tourist site that I never get tired of going too.  I love that Hobart has a museum that is a tourist site because it is unexpected.  The museum changes often enough to be interesting for me every time.

I find happiness in the fact that Hobart is attracting more of the type that will understand and appreciate a museum like MONA but also that there is still a large share of the type that find MONA disturbing.

I enjoy peoples reactions to their visit.  I love that I get to go whenever I want and experience of all the changes.

As my friend Kat planned her visit during MOFO: http://www.mofo.net.au/ (she wanted to see Amanda Palmer who cancelled)- so the museum grounds were as crowded as I had ever seen them.  There was a strange mix of random cruise ship people- loudly announcing their ignorance of where they were or why and then many I assumed were comped festival artists, and personnel.  I would normally have not gone during a time I knew would be crowded, so I am glad I got to see such a mix of visitors.

We had biked (there had been rain showers off and on all morning so skating was too risky) to the museum from the domain.  The wait for the museum was about forty minutes but at least the exhibits were not unbearable crowded as the capacity was capped.  There is now a movie theater that will be running the Operas (finally!) from New York- which for the last two years has been making me feel very left out of the world...not being in a city where I could go and see the Opera feed. 
http://www.metoperafamily.org/metopera/liveinhd/LiveinHD.aspx 
http://www.sharmillfilms.com.au/?page_id=2195 

I am going to catch up a bit as we are in between visitors again for another week. 

 

"There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!"

I love to be a tourist is my home town.

This is a convenient way to live as I have called many towns home.

The Crowleys' came to stay for awhile, and mostly we ate and went to the beach and entertained very small people, although only two, did seem to outnumber us.

However, there was one of two tourist items on the list that we could do and that was take a tour of the 'Cascade Brewery'.

Being Tasmania, this would of course be the "longest, continually run brewery in Australia".

I was a bit unsure about taking a group tour but I really did learn a lot.

I could have guessed the origin story- some man in the area of England, heard of the opportunities in the new land and decided to come over and build a water powered saw mill to cash in on the booming building trade. (The brewery part is the more interesting part of the story).

After a false start or two, he made it over, met with the Governor-General and was allotted his 20,000 hectares and 2,000 convict laborers. (okay maybe that was 2,000 or 200 I never can remember anything past the whole "free" land and labor part).

He got the spot he wanted which was below the meeting of two rivulets coming off Mt.Wellington- this is where the name Cascade comes from.

However from the aforementioned false start- some "coppers" came by and put him in jail for two years.  While he served his time, construction continued on his factory but while in jail he came up with the idea to start the brewery instead.  As he owned the only pure water source, all beer in Hobart was made in town with water that ran down past the prisons, the slaughterhouses and other pleasant areas.

Here is the cliff note version of my other fun facts.

The Tasmanian tiger at the bar is actually fake, and was made by an agency for a commercial that everyone except me remembered.

The face of the tiger is not representative of the real animal as it was made to look "friendly".

The brewery was not passed down through the family because the boys did not have children, and the four daughters with the nine grandchildren all "perished" in a boat just off the coast of Wales on their way back to England for a wedding. (!)

Until 1994, there were four times a day a bell in the brewery rang: "Tea, second Tea, after-tea, and dinner", in which all employees and crafty truck drivers with good timing, were given ten minutes to drink all the beer they could in that time.

Apparently very few people every quit their job at the brewery.

Now- the new policy is that each employee gets a case fort-nightly to drink "responsibly" at home.

I also learned that vegemite is made from the sludge at the bottom or was it skimmed off the top? of the beer vats.

I am not sure if this makes me feel better or worse about vegemite.  However its iconic status makes more sense to me now.

I also learned a new word from the ingredient list- wort.

I plan to use it in scrabble as soon as I have the chance.

...and the whole world was standing still and the moon was turning red..."

The fact that upon returning home to Tasmania, the island experienced the hottest day ever recorded- 41.3 c., should teach me to not joke about the difference between Stockholm and Hobart.  Yes, the season are reversed, but normally we do not go from one of the coldest winters to one of the hottest summers- however this year that was the truth.

The day that was 30 c. plus we took to the beach with its cool waters.

For this 41.3 c. we went to the movies which is one of the only air conditioned places I know of.  I felt the guilt of not being in the fire zone.  Of course any fire can reach even where we live- and in 1967 the fires were above even the central business district of town.  This is one of the reasons people do not take containment of a fire for granted.  I am not a native- so I do not have inherent worries about fires.  I understand, because as a Californian I do have that inherent panic from my experiences in earthquakes.  In fact, it is that sense of unease that I feel when the world goes still, and the hot air is oppressive and one can feel the threat, only here that threat is fire not earthquake.

I have learned that the land here- not only recovers from fire, most of the land is reinvigorated by it.  These are gum trees not oaks or redwoods.  I also learned that 'my' fire plan - "walk into the bay"- is an actual plan.  I was joking but apparently...

Basically- people have to either leave as soon as the threat begins or is anticipated or they need to stay and know how to defend their house.

This is harder if you are surrounded by acres and acres of bush- as opposed to us, being surrounded by other houses.  Houses which here are commonly brick not wood construction.

 Meanwhile, as you can see by these tasty and pretty cupcakes, Zok is happy.  The first thing I did when I got home was to put on a record, and then I picked some lemons so I could make lemonade.

 The farmers market, Sundays- in town continues to grow.  I bought two nice bottles of wine for my Finnish by way of Sweden- currently living in Sydney guest who arrive late next week.  We also bought; cherries, bosenberries, blueberries, gooseberries, and late season seedlings for the garden.  I had an iced-coffee (!), and a man next to me said 'Ah that looks like a spider.' and I was so happy to explain the difference between the two.  For my first six years in Australia all I ever got was someone explaining a 'spider' to me when explaining why I couldn't simply have iced-coffee.

Also note the cute food trailer- an idea that years ago everyone I know told me would never work in Tazzy.

 

 

"...they ought to make you wear a sign, Danger T-N-T..."

When I helped move some skaters into the place I like to refer to as the 'Derby Mansion', I did not realize that the house, and most buildings on the small island- once belonged to Albert Nobel.

Nobel was the inventor of dynamite, and in whose name the Nobel Prize is given.

The house was his laboratory.  There is a good cafe across the park which was the site of his factory.

When I first saw the house, all I could wonder at was that the owner left behind not just glassware, and expensive, lovely curtains but items such as a grand piano.

It was all very impressive - but of course if the internet is correct he had more than one factory over the years.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Nobel 

The whole area is pretty, and the coffee at the cafe is good. To get to the house or cafe you have to walk through the woods, and there is a water view from most angles.

I was curious to see how the house would fare for parties- as with six skaters virtually all of the league would be actually not casually connected by at least one person.

I managed to be sick the only time I felt up to going to a party there.

I am sure they have been good ones- but sometimes or maybe more accurately, often the idea of a large party and easily a 10-15 year gap in the median age just seems plain exhausting to me.

Vinterviken Cafe is now a favorite of mine. 

http://www.winterviken.se/conference-banqueting-stockholm 

I feel lucky when I come across some place by chance, or luck, or through derby.  I still need to take Zok there, but this place is on a list of several...better luck in 2013!

 

 

Christmas here, Christmas there...

Stockholm continues to have more and more snow.

I dug out our door that leads to the terrace to rescue some forgotten summer furniture and to dig out the BBQ.

However, we have had snowfall since then so you can not tell I did anything and the snow is piled up against the windows again.

Zok and I have decided that this is the most and the least Christmas-y Christmas of all time.  I love all the huge Christmas trees that are in almost every square. 

Mostly because we were both away from either home until the 15th, followed by Zok and I getting food poisoning from our (no longer) favorite Ramen place.  If we had made any plans we would have had to break them as Zok is still sick and this is day four.

I am better but Zok is mostly curled up in a ball- moaning or worse.

I was hoping Chester would have a dusting of snow while I was there but I was out of luck.

Meanwhile in the snow here we have a neighbor that is quite good at snow sculpting.

Merry Christmas to all-

We will soon experience the shock of traveling from weather that is -12 to +23...

 

...and the bell was ringing in the village square...

My relationship with snow is more accurately a sort of fake- movie and song lyric inspired relationship.  Sort of like when a person is such a fan they convince themselves that they truly are in love with this actor or that- when of course they can only be in love with second hand information and characters portrayed by said actor.

Okay, sure - I had a flirtation some time in the 1970s, in one of those midwestern states as in "maybe it was Ohio? No-no was it Indiana?..."

But how could snow love me? The kid from the coast that did not know about snow reports of school closures, sitting each snow day waiting at a bus stop until some friendly midwesterntype pulled over to say "Hey- Kid! There's no school today!".
 

But I know this- maybe other people are more constant, more present in your life but I am pretty sure I am the only one that actually sings  out loud as I tromp through your banks.  Who laughs when I slip on your icy bits. Who stands in the middle of the road thinking 'glitter! glitter! magic wonderland! sparkle! sparkle!' in perverse wonderment.

 

"Promise me something, kill me right away if I start to get slow, ...kill me right away its the least you can do..."

Here are the things that I still do not understand about 'Sport'.

(Although I truly believe I know why 'to play sport' and to 'be' sport and to make sport of someone all fits under this one word.)

I don't understand the emotions.

I don't understand letting go all the comments said in the heat of the moment.  Because mean-spirited, mean words, don't dissipate into thin air.  Then work there way into your mind and your dreams.

I don't understand wanting, needing, something (a move?  a dash of glory?) so much.

I don't understand that losing a game can mean so much.

I think a true sports person about now would point out that the writer of these comments is not great at sport.

I suppose they might not even go so far- perhaps not understanding is where the line is drawn.

So within all this understanding or misunderstanding or not being able to understand where am I?
 

I care too much for what others think and feel, and too little for myself.

This is a flaw and I think I am good for acknowledging the flaw.

I also think I am at a point in my life where I would rather withdraw.

Because let me tell you - I am not actually prone to boredom.

Okay- Okay ! I can hear you pointing to certain times- certain wintery, solitary times on the island.  But, I will protest.  The time was extreme and I have learned better.  But I was never actually bored.  My life was just so different with the absence of an over-active social life.

Quitting the field because you are unhappy qualifies as a win in my un-sportslike mind.

Also- the whole sport thing has made me soft.

When people are mean my reaction is shock.

My 30-something self would have reacted defensively and aggressively.  See how I just used those sport words?

I think I was doing better at the sport of life.

From this post you might think my team lost another game- actually the team won one, and barely lost the second.
I was not on the track a lot, but I was unfortunately, on for the last jam that cost us the game.
If I look at the derby year selfishly?  Then hey! Look at me- hanging around mid-forties, possibly more physically fit than I have ever been.  I helped with a lot of fund raising for a league I respect.
I have made a few- good, and actual friends.
There is a lot of winning in there as soon as I shake off this emotional hangover.