tea on the beach

It is 35 in the shade and humidity is pushing my tolerance levels, however as the British Raj demonstrated, that is no reason to pack away the teapot. With the kitchen only metres from the water, I can take all of my paraphernalia to a shady spot and catch the sea breeze. A swim or three in between blog posts and I’ve earned a nap. 

Sumba and I are home alone, with Aquaman doing a quick Singapore run to renew his visa. I have a new appreciation for the daily challenges a single mum must face, and I’ve only got a bleeting goat that misses his dad.  My current challenge is convincing him how delicious fruit and vegetables are, and that he should try chewing them rather than the plate they are on.  There will not be photographic evidence of me on all fours eating carrot stalks.  

birthday adventure

Just the two of us on a borrowed motorbike. Bathers, sunnies, long sleeved shirts. A loaf of camp oven bread, salad and art supplies in the backpack. Over the newly graded road to our favourite south side beach and beyond. Returning home when my butt was numb and the dusk shadows long. Yes, I feel lucky. 

thirty something

It's my birthday week. Hip hip hooray. I am very partial to a bit of birthday action, and refuse to accept that it can't be as exciting as it was when I was seven - perhaps not seven, as that day ended in tears because everyone else got a party hat and I didn't. Mum had to swiftly cut out a crown with a big number 7 stapled on the front to save the day.  

I have but a few humble requests : a cake with a candle, a rendition of happy birthday, no dishes, and at least one opportunity to do something new (yes, my semi-enlightened husband has reminded me that every moment is a new experience...) This year, to ease my childlike expectations, I steamed a vegan chocolate and cranberry cake the day before, and tried not to watch when Aquaman cut it up before presenting it to me with a tea-light candle on top. Ever the practical thinker is my Tom.  We shared it with the boys next door for breakfast. 

The remainder of the day was a beautiful combination of solitude, peace, adventure, and socialising. A quiet moment with a magazine and coffee in my birthday cup (handmade porcelain by Samantha Robinson), an empty lagoon to swim in, a late morning smoothie, an all afternoon outing, and burritos for dinner with friends at the hotel. 

I was blessed with unexpected presents (including the necklace I am wearing above, made by fellow islander, Hildi), a bounty of kisses and a second cake decorated with plastic palm trees. 

Thank you.

Photos from our picnic to the south coast of the island coming up next. 

island interior style

Alaia wooden surfboard shaped by Aquaman last summer : see the process here.

Busroll painted by me : I love original busrolls, and although they have become an overused design item, now printed on tea towels with your choice of destinations, the sheer irony that we could ever have a bus with an actual timetable was enough to paint one of my own. 

Sunburst mirror by me : driftwood on ply, made back here

A changing collection of beach love. Plate from Jengalla ceramics outlet, Bali. Antique doily from the op shop in Busselton.

Striped cushion cover made from a tea towel that I burnt a hole in, screenprinted with a teak leaf design and machine stitched. Grey paisley cover from Haveli Interiors, Bali.

Welcome sign found on the road side, tossed into the bush after a village dispute over boundaries.

Moka pot and coffee tin from Venice.

Ceramics from Dayana, Bali

Timber mozaic by me, made from canoe pieces.

Meditation seat beside a collection of beach finds.

Bolster cushion cover screen printed and quilted by me over a few art society afternoons.

Mosaics I made from broken tiles found on the beach, stuck onto driftwood.

Silver boxes (my favourite storage) from Bali.

Hand printed card by Saraswati Papers, Ubud, stuck onto driftwood. Small dish from Jengalla, Bali.

Ceramic butterfly from Erice, Sicily, beside a Balinese hand painted offering box. Painting in the background by Tom.  Kerosene lamp (for regular blackouts) from the local shop.

Assorted photos and cards on my studio peg board.

There is always a creative project on the go in our beach house. Almost all of the furniture and decoration is made by us, or local craftsmen, using found materials and native timber.  Any item brought in from Bali or Australia requires careful consideration to pass the "do I really want to lug this" test.  The closest shop stocking any kind of furniture is over an hour away and specialises in plastic everything, while the nearest Ikea is on the next continent. It is rewarding to create a space that reflects our creativity and life on the island, and we value the time and peace we have to engage in play and artistry. The only challenge exists between our varying desires for minimalism and ornamentation. Tom has told me the new shed is out of bounds for doilies.  

sun, dirt & water

Unless you have arrived directly from Saudi Arabia or the Great Sandy Desert, our island is shockingly dry at this time of year. It is now over five months since the last rain drop, and the colours of the landscape are muted by dust and thirst. Coming from a rare visit to Australia in spring, via the rich surrounds of Ubud, where green claims a new intensity, our little garden with its lemongrass, sand and rock statements is harsh reality under the blazing sunshine. 

The goats snuck in the back door while I was away (and Aquaman was napping on the job), and smashes the basil, silverbeet and papaya. At sometime during their feast they had a conscience and left the three precious sunflowers untouched. Now, standing proud in the red dirt is a beacon of yellow, a huge smile from nature, my first sunflower. 

our baby, sumba

Sumba was brought to us as a one day old orphan and his tiny body was barely bigger than Tom's hand. He was uncertain on his legs and tripped over his umbilical cord. Now, four weeks later, he is a strong, bounding bundle of loveable joy. Aside from frequent peeing on the floor, he is the perfect baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry, and takes himself off to bed after the last bottle of the day.  He adores his dadda and follows close to his heels on adventures beyond the compound. The two of them can often be found bonding in the new shed, with Sumba chewing the electrical cords and the bottom of Tom's board shorts. 

He is developing his innate manliness by head butting the aloe or a loose tea towel, and provides hours of entertainment performing agile leaps over the furniture. To show he isn't all balls and brawn, he is generous with butterfly kisses, and is proving his intellectual aptitude with an interest in board games.  My dad has high hopes it might ignite some deep and hidden maternal desire for a two legged baby. 

Dream on.