Orange Gems

 

We have a shady garden, and even though I put the tomatoes in the ground much too early, it wasn't until the end of January that some started to turn orange. Not quite red, but we were so impatient we started picking and sitting them in bowls in the sun for a couple of days. All the plants came from tomatoes we bought in the supermarket and ate: Roma and Mixed Cherry Toms.

Gold Gems

Courtesy of good friends, we came into possession of 2kgs of golden plums. They about the size of a medium to large grapes, and super tart at first, but with a sweet aftertaste. Ben decided to give it a go making jam for the first time.

And what a lovely jam he made. The color is slightly darker because he used raw sugar, but the jam is sweet and tangy, and tastes similarly to apricot jam, his favorite.  

And I made a warp.

Summer

  

From PYO@185 in Hope, purchased mid-afternoon after being picked in the morning just before Christmas. Supermarket stuff never came close.

Inspired by "Rubbish"

Many artists say they are inspired by nature, while I always insist I prefer history, stories and man-made objects. I may have been wrong. I was loathed to discard these, and took gazillion pictures.

In Amongst or Underneath

Occasionally I must remind myself we do have stuff other than weeds in the garden. Or in amongst, or underneath.

#FirstWorldVice

  

We don't see too many of these pricey rubbish around here, but it's disheartening when we do. The pipe might have been exposed in the 2022/8/19 river-of-rain/flood/landslide. Maire Street.

Some Ordinary Days in Nelson are Extraordinary

 

As it must be where you live, too. From near the top of Tamaki Street.

We Must Live in Paradise

 

I have been a fan of Bird of Paradise since 1982 when I saw them in person in Hawaii for the first time. I have seen some around Nelson, but our place is shady, and I must clear a pretty large patch for them to succeed, so I have been reluctant to commit. 

Only a few weeks ago I got this close to one, from memory somewhere near the Cathedral Steps, and it was scary; there was a hint of viciousness in their beauty. Maybe it's enough to admire them from afar.

A Favorite Recycled?

 

Fuchsias were the flowers in fashion when we came to New Zealand. I had never seen them and the choice of colors were mesmerizing. Then they disappeared for over 20 years, but I swear I saw some in the garden shop last spring. She may be a survivor from the last century. Waimea Road.

Ben's Too.

 

Ben's been breaking a little bad for half a dozen years, roasting his own. The Coffee Company, Hardy Street.

Worldwide Shortage in Children's Sizes

  

I wanted orange or florescent yellow green, (doesn't exist,) or red or navy blue, but would have compromised as far down the list as the pale blue-blue. I love yellow, too, but that's my current color. Apparently my size, Children's 4, is one of the most popular sizes, which is probably why there are only one or two options for me on a given day, and that day they were sad pink, pale teal, or the tear-indicingly beautiful navy but one size smaller. After walking around town for a couple of hours, in proper walking shoes, I convinced myself one size smaller was a frivolous ruling, so with a heavy heart, I went with the pale teal. 

Earlier in the season the shop kept telling me to pop back in every so often because they were getting new ones all the time, but on this day a staff told me there is a worldwide shortage of children's sizes. Soul Footware on Trafalgar Street, which used to be Mariposa on Hardy Street.

15 minutes later I saw these, and contemplated what the Universe was telling me. These found at The Warehouse, St Vincent Street.

Old Fashioned

There used to be several of these old-fashioned bakeries right in Nelson CBD when we moved here. This one on Hardy Street is the last one, or two, left. They have pretty good sandwiches for reasonable prices so I sometimes ate them on a park bench or by the river, contemplating life, universe, and the stark changes Ben and I made moving here from Tokyo/Yokohama. By far the best guilty pleasure were two custard slices in a thin, soggy paper bag I had to balance on my palm until I reached the car, to enjoy after dinner. Or before.  

Sorely Missed

 

We used to have a mind-blowingly fabulous magazine shop on Hardy Street, where you could buy the latest New York or London Review(s) of Books flown in overnight, (for a price, I must add.) I used to spend hours just looking at the different kinds of magazines published around the mainly English-speaking world, and then go home with an English garden or American home&garden sort.

This is the one purchase I kept from those days. I thought these boats were sublime, and wondered if Ben and I could make tiny models, but the more I read about boat-building, the less it became a relaxed Sunday afternoon proposition. (Still game if I can find a sufficiently-challenging-yet-not-too-expensive kit, but not in a rush to add to my unfinished projects pile.)

From memory, the male owner of the magazine shop passed away suddenly, and the shop sold immediately.

On the other hand, I have no idea what the left half of the sign says.

Somewhere in Town

 

Being something of a history buff, I love it when I happen to see these markers around town, but sorry, I have no idea where I found this one. Do you know??