Sunday, 28 December 2014

Happy New Year 2015;

...say good bye to the old 2014..

Sunrise, January 2014

In a few days….a new year makes its great entrance; it comes with hope and gilded dreams. Whispering about its seasons that come and go; It smiles and  means to be a happy Year for all. Ts

January/figs are ripe

February/Tillandsia flowering;

March/Escargot found in the butterfly garden;

April/Rain, Plectranthus and Roses

May/ blue sky

June/ rain and fungi

July/ a cold winter, the beautiful Elina is flowering

August/Dendrobium Orchids make an appearance.

September/spring has arrived, Louisiana Iris;

October/ Gladioli and new daylilies in the bulb garden

November/ Miss Bella,a  phyton, has emerged from hibernation; in all the years she has lived in the garden, she has grown considerably, she is not poisonous, has become quite friendly, she knows, she is welcome.

December/Bromeliads as nature intended them to grow, big and bold collecting water and nutrients,

©Ts Photos and text/ Titania-Everyday.

Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Library cat;

Water colour “Library Cat” by Craig Roffler

Books I liked;

 Book of Fires by Jane Borodale

1752 Agnes Trussel, 17, has run away from her rural  home, burdened by two guilty secrets. she arrives in London, shocked by its squalor and poverty. She finds work  as an assistant to a fire work maker. She learns to make rockets, stars and other fiery fireworks; She meets a young seller of gunpowder and hatches a plan to get hr out of her predicament...and so the story goes, well written and interesting plot.

The Glass Painter's Daughter by Rachel Hore.

In a tiny stained-glass shop hidden in the backstreets of Westminster lies the cracked, sparkling image of an angel. The owners of Minster Glass have also been broken: Fran Morrison's mother died when she was a baby; a painful event never mentioned by her difficult, secretive father Edward. Fran left home to pursue a career in foreign cities, as a classical musician.

In heaven an angel is nobody in particular.
George Bernard Shaw, Maxims for Revolutionists.

Interesting, well written and a happy ending.

China Rose; Old Blush flowering in my garden.


Monday, 27 October 2014

Ode to a tree...

 you see a tree,
 its awesomeness takes your breath away;
you may feel,
the most beautiful in the world is a tree in full flower,
 holding on to its place with an intrinsic stubbornness, displaying innocence and fragrance
 in an abundance of beauty 
 colour, layer upon layer,
 humming and trembling with life.

Grevillia robusta/ Silky Oak;

25 years ago this tree was a tiny seedling I gave to my neighbour. He planted it in his garden. 
In the past 25 years t the garden has changed hands many times, Yet, the tree is still here, has matured and  become part of this  garden. 

©Photo/text Ts.

Saturday, 18 October 2014

A dream...

Last night I had a funny dream, a bit nightmarish. I gave a dinner party.  The seating arrangements were different, all the guests were sitting in groups of four around small tables  I was sitting with a friend, had an animated conversation, so he did not have a face I knew. He looked a bit like Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind.
 The two other people, a gentleman and a lady I didn't know either. It turned out it was the Italian Ambassador and his wife. The gods know, I do not know any Italian Ambassadors nor their spouses. Anyway, I thought they were Spanish as the lady wore a Mantua and a Mantilla, I was wondering if I had forgotten that  it was a fancy dress party. Anyway, we were sitting and eating, talking, my friend “Rhett Butler” and I a little flirting, a sip of wine, suddenly my eyes swept over the other tables,  over to the Ambassador and his good wife, no one but "Rhett Butler" and I  had any wineglasses. Flustered I  said excuse me, got up from the table and wanted to go and get some wineglasses from the cupboard. The cabinet  was staring at me with empty shelves, all the glasses were gone. Frantically I tried  to remember where I  put them.  I ran around in the house and could not find the wineglasses, not one set. I looked in all the cupboards…nothing…then I woke up.
 The Moral of this story do not clean and rearrange your  cupboards before you go to sleep.

©Photo/text Ts

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Tuesday...when a bell rings...

Brugmansia/ Angel's Trumpet;

Did you hear a bell ring today? It means an Angel just got his or her wings...

©Photo my garden Ts.

Monday, 13 October 2014



I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. ~Michelangelo

©Photo Ts

Sunday, 12 October 2014


Rose Perle D'or flowering in the garden.

Unless you can love, as the angels may'
With the breath of heavens betwixt you....
Oh, never call it loving!

Elisabeth Barrett Browning; A Woman's Shortcomings

Sunday, 24 August 2014


“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” 
William Blake 

The host tree; small ferns have attached to the bark;

“Look: the trees exist; the houses
we dwell in stand there stalwartly. 
 Only we
pass by it all, like a rush of air.
And everything conspires to keep quiet
 about us,
half out of shame perhaps, half out of
 some secret hope.” 
 Rainer Maria Rilke,

 Beautiful curtain of  the  Casuarina;

“Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.”
 Alfred Tennyson,

We are so small and we cut you down without a thought how you might feel; the chainsaw blasts and roars, crunches through your innerst  cores...Ts.

“We have nothing to fear and a great deal to learn from trees, that vigorours and pacific tribe which without stint produces strengthening essences for us, soothing balms, and in whose gracious company we spend so many cool, silent, and intimate hours.” 
Marcel Proust

“Fancy cutting down all those beautiful make pulp for those bloody newspapers, and calling it civilisation. - Winston Churchill, remarking to his son during a visit to Canada in 1929” 
 John Vaillant, The Golden Spruce: A True Story of Myth, Madness, and Greed 

“Within its gates I heard the sound
Of winds in cypress caverns caught
Of huddling trees that moaned, and sought
To whisper what their roots had found.
“A Dream of Fear” 
George Sterling, The Thirst of Satan: Poems of Fantasy and Terror 

©Photos, some Text; Ts

Monday, 2 June 2014

June; baking a cake;

Authentic Carrot torte from the Canton Aargau, Switzerland

Lemon zest made with Bamix, easy and quick. Lemon from my tree, untreated, organic.

 Almonds ground with Bamix;

Ready for the oven;

Baked and iced;

Ready to eat.

Rüeblitorte = Carrot torte.

5 egg yolks  (organic, mine are from my friendly black austral hens called “The Angelinas”
200 g Sugar  (add to yolks and mix until thick and  pale.)

250 g carrots, finely grated
250 g almonds ground
1 lemon organic not treated as you are using the peel, zested  and all the juice  (add to above)

80 g plain flour  organic if possible
1 tablespoon baking powder    (add to mixture)

5 egg white beaten until stiff and shiny (do not over beat)   
1 pinch of salt  (gently mix stiff egg whites into the mixture, (it is fairly sloppy)

Fill a spring form with this mixture. (prepare form, baking paper on bottom of form, butter the sides and  a little flour, so the cake won’t stick to the sides.)

Bake 180° C or(350 F) for around 50 minutes, test with a steel knitting needle to check if it is cooked.) Let it cool.

250 g Icing sugar  (powdered sugar)
2 - 3 tablespoons lemon juice, you can use different options
(or water with  a few drops bitter almond)  or ( 1 tablespoon water and 2 tblsp. Kirsch)
Mix  and pour over torte.


© Recipe, photos Ts

Thursday, 29 May 2014

Library cat...May;

The Serpent and the Staff
Barbara wood

With a story that’s vividly told with rich historical details, Barbara Wood brings Ugarit to life. For readers who enjoy delving into the deep past of civilization, this is a recommended read
The plot and pacing are masterful, skilfully envisions a society set in biblical times, with people-trading, marrying and scheming in a thriving coastal town at the centre of ancient trade routes, rendered in soft focus but with marvellous clarity and complexity.
Her fiction come alive with authentic detailing and highly memorable characters, vivid sketches of women who triumph over destiny. 

Set in the tumultuous era when Egypt is on the brink of becoming the dominant world power, The Serpent and the Staff tells the powerful story of a Canaanite family's struggle for survival in a climate of violent change, when cherished beliefs and traditions are threatened.

Ugarit Syria, 1450 B.C.E.
Page 208; He thought of the moral decay of the Brotherhood, because the scribes had become to powerful. They have a monopoly on reading and writing.  Even Doctors and lawyers rely on them.  Such power has corrupted them. 

(Nobody could read and write, everybody had to employ or go to a scribe to have anything written down or read to them.. It was a complicated cunei form of writing with thousands of  pictographs.)

Cuneiform script is one of the earliest known systems of writing distinguished by its wedge-shaped marks on clay tablets, made by means of a blunt reed for a stylus. The name cuneiform itself simply means "wedge shaped", from the Latin cuneus "wedge" and forma "shape," and came into English usage probably from Old French cunéiforme.

The cuneiform writing system was in use for a span of more than three millennia, through several stages of development, from the 34th century BC down to the 2nd century AD. Ultimately, it was completely replaced by alphabetic writing (in the general sense) in the course of the Roman era and there are no Cuneiform systems in current use. It had to be deciphered as a completely unknown writing system in 19th-century Assyriology. Successful completion of its decipherment is dated to 1857.

My 2 cents; interesting history details, a great narrative, in between , on certain pages  it became a bit  ponderous. All in all enjoyable.

Sunday, 25 May 2014


Ballina NSW 18/08/2012   18:01 AM

The Conscious Army
Love is the new religion of the 21st century 

"On the surface of the world right now there is war and violence and things seem dark. But calmly and quietly, at the same time, something else is happening underground. An inner revolution is taking place and certain individuals are being called to a new light. 

A silent revolution. From the inside out. From the ground up. This is a Global operation. A Spiritual Conspiracy. There are sleeper cells in every nation, every city, every town, every village on the planet. You won't see us on TV. You won't read about us in newspaper. You won't hear about us on the radio. We don't seek any glory. We don't wear any uniform. We come in all shapes and sizes, colors and styles. Most of us work anonymously. We are quietly working behind the scenes in every country and culture of the world. In every city, on mountains and in valleys, on farms and in villages, no tribes nor remote islands are left out.. You could pass by one of us on the street and not even notice. We go undercover. We remain behind the scenes. It is of no concern to us who takes the final credit but simply that the work gets done. Occasionally we spot each other in the street. We give a quiet nod and continue on our way. 

During the day we have normal jobs, but behind the false store front  is where the real work takes place. Some call us the Conscious Army. We are slowly creating a new world with the power of our minds and hearts. We follow, with passion and joy our orders come from the Central Spiritual Intelligence. We are dropping soft, secret love bombs when no one is looking, Poems ~ Hugs ~ Music ~ Photography ~ Movies ~ Kind words ~ Smiles ~ 
Meditation ~ Dance ~ Social activism ~ Websites - Blogs ~ Random acts of kindness... 
We each express ourselves in our own unique ways with our own unique gifts and talents. Be the change you want to see in the world. That is the motto that fills our hearts. We know it is the only way real transformation takes place. We know that quietly and humbly we have the Power of all the oceans combined. Our work is slow and meticulous like the formation of mountains. It is not even visible at first glance. And yet with it entire tectonic plates shall be moved in the centuries to come. Love is the new religion of the 21st century.  
You do not need any exceptional knowledge to understand it. It comes from the intelligence of the heart embedded in the timeless evolutionary pulse of all human beings. Be the change you want to see in the world. Nobody else can do it for you. 
 Perhaps you will join this silent power or you already have. All are welcome.

© Photo Ts/ Text Author unknown
People try to find a way out of their predicament, as  Governments around the world get harsher and ,  corrupter,punishing the population and making them pay for failures and debts created by greed of the banking fraternity. Leaning heavily towards oligarchy, while spreading the meaningless mantra of  Democracy which they are  undermining at any occasion to benefit  plutocrats and oligarchs. Creating lies, and falseness to protect the chaos  bankers and  Corporations in their  never ending greed  create. 

Plutocrats: The Rise of the New Global Super-Rich and the Fall of Everyone Else

by Chrystia Freeland  (Author)

There has always been some gap between rich and poor, but recently what it means to be rich has changed dramatically. Forget the 1 percent—Plutocrats proves that it is the wealthiest 0.1 percent who are outpacing the rest of us at breakneck speed. Most of these new fortunes are not inherited, Amassed instead by perceptive businesspeople who see themselves as deserving victors in a cut throat international competition. With empathy and intelligence, Plutocrats reveals the consequences of concentrating the world’s wealth into fewer and fewer hands., Plutocrats is a tour de force of social and economic history, the definitive examination of inequality in our time.
  1. Plutocracy or plutarchy, defines a society or a system ruled and dominated by the small minority of the wealthiest citizens. The first known use of the term is 1652.

Thursday, 22 May 2014

Outback moments;

The Heart of the Swag; Henry Lawson

Oh, the track through the scrub groweth ever more dreary,
And lower and lower his grey head doth bow;
For the swagman is old and the swagman is weary—
He’s been tramping for over a century now.
He tramps in a worn-out old “side spring” and “blucher,”
His hat is a ruin, his coat is a rag,
And he carries forever, far into the future,
The key of his life in the core of his swag. 

Getting ready, Bill is passionate about flying, he makes sure everything is in perfect order and condition, as we are spending many hours in this flying machine! 

As far as the eye can see...

There are old-fashioned portraits of girls who are grannies,
There are tresses of dark hair whose owner’s are grey;
There are faded old letters from Marys and Annies,
And Toms, Dicks, and Harrys, dead many a day.
There are broken-heart secrets and bitter-heart reasons—
They are sewn in a canvas or calico bag,
And wrapped up in oilskin through dark rainy seasons,
And he carries them safe in the core of his swag. 

Oh Yes, I could live here; I crave the the infinity of the outback sky.

I dream of a garden with one thousand roses under an outback sky.

There are letters that should have been burnt in the past time,
For he reads them alone, and a devil it brings;
There were farewells that should have been said for the last time,
For, forever and ever the love for her springs.
But he keeps them all precious, and keeps them in order,
And no matter to man how his footsteps may drag,
There’s a friend who will find, when he crosses the Border,

A glimpse of  a day, week, month, perhaps a century past.

...silver leaves and scented flowers... a song for the outback...


...and then a sandstorm approached...

to be continued an other day...

©Photos/Text Titania Everyday Ts