Category: nostalgia

cakes · chocolate · music · nostalgia

The Icing on MacArthur Park (and My Christmas Cake!)

Joanne4 Comments

On Christmas Eve I iced my Christmas cake, as I am known to do every year, during one of the preceding days leading up to the big day itself.

As a general rule, the icing stays put. But not this Christmas!

The moisture in the air, due to the massive amounts of rain we have been experiencing over the last few weeks, had my chocolate icing venturing to places on my cake where chocolate icing was not intended to be!

(The humidity level has regularly hovered around 80 – 90 % for some time now.)

Immediately, I had music in my head…

“MacArthur’s Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down…
Someone left the cake out in the rain…”


Yes, I know, my icing was sweet brown icing and no, I did not leave it out in the rain! Although it looks for all the world as if I did!

Do you remember the song, “MacArthur Park”? It was written by Jimmy Webb and recorded by actor, Richard Harris in 1968. The song became an instant one hit wonder for Harris, the actor.

I remember the song well, from listening to my mother constantly singing it around the house, whilst going about her housework! She was totally besotted by the song!

As to the actual recording of the song, even as a child I found Richard Harris’s voice haunting. Still do, for that matter.

Not that I had a clue as to what the lyrics were going on about!

It got the better of me. I had to take myself off to YouTube and find the song. Just to hear that voice again. And the orchestra. And to feel the sensation of goose bumps….

Yep, I’m my mother’s daughter. I’m besotted by that song!

I came across a few trivial facts to share with you also, just in case you’re interested in Richard Harris, or his gorgeous voice, or his acting, or that song…

Richard St. John Harris was born in Limerick, Ireland, in 1930.

His movie career began in 1958 and included roles in such memorable movies as “The Guns of Navarone”, “Mutiny on the Bounty” and “Camelot”.

In 2002, Harris played his final movie role in “Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets”, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, Harris passed away just two and a half weeks before the release of the movie.

As to my not understanding the lyrics of “MacArthur Park”, apparently they are meant to symbolise the ending of a love affair!

You can watch and listen to a YouTube video here ~

to hear snippets of the song, as sung by Richard Harris, along with interjections of anecdotes about the song and Harris himself.

For an uninterrupted (shortened) version of the song, go here ~

This second link is “A Tribute to Richard Harris”. Whilst he is singing the song, various photos are flashed across the screen, of Harris as he appeared in some of his movies roles. At the end of the video, an Irish Blessing appears, reading,

“May you always find blue skies above your head,

Shamrocks beneath your feet, laughter and joy aplenty,

Kindness from all you meet,

Good friends and kin to miss you if ever you choose to roam,

And a path that’s been cleared by angels themselves

To carry you safely home”.

Isn’t that a lovely blessing?

And so ends my “Richard Harris / MacArthur Park walk down memory lane and trivia quest”.

The humidity has dropped today to around 60 %, the rain is gone and the sun is shining, but I’ll be waiting a while before I add any icing to any cakes I bake!

Australia · nostalgia

The Blue Mountains

Joanne6 Comments

Two days ago I mentioned here on my blog page that I had lived in an area prone to bushfires ~ The Blue Mountains of New South Wales.

The Blue Mountains was my first home, the area where I spent the first thirteen years of my life.

Many years later I still reflect on those thirteen years with feelings of immense nostalgia. I’m sure I could start a separate blog entitled something along the lines of “Memories of my Early Life; Growing up in The Blue Mountains” and never run short on content!

They were happy years, filled with magical discoveries, exploring, adventure and learning, back in the days when the world was young and I possessed not a care in the world. *sigh*

The famous Australian poet, Henry Lawson, penned the most perfectly descriptive poem about the Blue Mountains, which I would like to share with you today.

Henry Lawson is an Australian icon, born in Grenfell, N.S.W. in 1867. Henry departed this world at an extremely early age, in 1922. I’m certain that upon his demise he took with him many untold stories and poems about Australia.

Today’s photo is another oldie from my first photo album. ‘Tis a very young “me” again, this time taken at Echo Point, Katoomba, the lookout of the world famous “Three Sisters”.

I do hope you enjoy the poem. It was written in 1888, after Henry had spent a few years living in the Blue Mountains himself.

The poem was copied from the book, “The World of Henry Lawson”, a book I discovered and purchased in 1983. No internet links provided for this one! 😉

I’ll leave you now with Henry Lawson, who is far more capable of describing the breathtaking landscape of the Blue Mountains, more lyrically than I would ever be capable of! 🙂

The Blue Mountains

Above the ashes straight and tall,

Through ferns with moisture dripping,

I climb beneath the sandstone wall,

My feet on mosses slipping.

Like ramparts round the valley’s edge

The tinted cliffs are standing,

With many a broken wall and ledge,

And many a rocky landing.

And round about their rugged feet

Deep ferny dells are hidden

In shadowed depths, whence dust and heat

Are banished and forbidden.

The stream that, crooning to itself,

Comes down a tireless rover,

Flows calmly to the rocky shelf,

And there leaps bravely over.

Now pouring down, now lost in spray

When mountain breezes sally,

The water strikes the rock midway,

And leaps into the valley.

Now in the west the colours change,

The blue with crimson blending;

Behind the far Dividing Range

The sun is fast descending.

And mellowed day comes o’er the place,

And softens ragged edges;

The rising moon’s great placid face

Looks gravely o’er the ledges.

gardening · happiness · inspiration · nostalgia · spring

Daffodils

Joanne2 Comments

Daffodils ~ William Wordsworth

“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.”

(Photo credit : aspenlandscapedesigner.blogspot.com)

Australia · Changes · happiness · nostalgia

Why is a Ship Called “She”?

Joanne3 Comments

Many years ago, in fact so many years ago that it now feels like it was a whole lifetime away, a new shopping centre sprang up in the most unlikely of places. For reasons which I have never been aware of, these shops were built right smack bang on the edge of Sydney Harbour.

Who would have thought?

The whole concept was very avante-guard, back in the day, even for Sydney.

Surrounded by a marina, the local rowing club and a beautiful parkland area along the water’s edge, these shops were an absolute delight to visit.

As a newly married couple, my husband and I enjoyed visiting Birkenhead Point every weekend. Our weekly fruit and vegetables were carefully chosen from the huge array of fresh produce on display, after which we would wander along the harbour side, pointing out which boats we liked the most and dreaming of a day when we would own our own.

Just this morning, I dragged out of my linen cupboard an old, faded and fraying tea-towel, a relic of our visits to the place where just the two of us would while away the hours, with not a care in the world.

Those were the days when we truly, although unintentionally, lived the lives of minimalists, without even realising how lucky we were. Where did those days go?

But back to the tea-towel…I remember finding it at one of the nautical shops down near the water side. We loved to admire the shop’s wares, although we had little money to purchase anything.

On the towel is printed a story ~ “Why Is A Ship Called She?” It goes like this ~

“A ship is called a “she” because there is always a great deal of bustle around her; there is usually a gang of men about, she has a waist and stays; it takes a lot of paint to keep her good looking; it is not the initial expense that breaks you, it is the upkeep; she can be all decked out; it takes an experienced man to handle her correctly; and without a man at the helm, she is absolutely uncontrollable. She shows her topsides, hides her bottom and, when coming into port, always heads for the buoys.”

Reading back over it all of these years later, it really is an extremely sexist tea-towel! However I still enjoy the play on words, and I remember why I liked it back then.

After finding the tea-towel, I Googled Birkenhead Point. Yes, the shopping centre is still there, however I do not recall it as ever having been the ritzy edifice it now appears to be!

Australia · gratitude · inspiration · nostalgia

The Town that Time Forgot

Joanne4 Comments

???????????????????????????????Not far from my home, just over two hour’s drive north from here, is a sleepy little town, a town that time forgot.

The very first time I drove into Eumundi, which would have been over twelve years ago now, I felt right at home. The main street of the town is lined with wonderful old buildings, lovingly maintained throughout the years, preserving the rustic charm of a bygone era.

This is a town where I always feel good, no exceptions; a town with a calm energy pulsing through its tranquil, old world veins.

Despite the town’s population of a mere 500 estimated residents, Eumundi is actually a township familiar to many the world over, mostly due to the world renowned Eumundi Markets, held in the centre of the town, each and every Wednesday and Saturday morning.

Words alone cannot describe the attraction of the Eumundi Markets. Only a visit to the town in person could evoke a complete appreciation of the atmosphere, and the feelings of serenity, whilst wandering through the laneways of the colourful market stalls.

Emma and Adam at the markets.
Emma and Adam at the markets.

Nothing compares to leisurely strolling from stall to stall, whilst munching on a bag of freshly roasted macadamias (Australian bush nuts) and sipping on a cup of homemade ginger beer.

There’s so much detail in these two photos, so just click on them to enlarge.

???????????????????????????????
The home-made Ginger Beer stand.

I’m sure you can imagine my utter delight when Berkelouw Books opened up, right in the heart of Eumundi. The first time I walked into the new store, perhaps three or four years ago now, I can only liken the feeling to what I imagine it would be to have died and gone to book heaven!

The heavenly aspect of Berkelouw Books, however, is not just due to their stocking of latest addition books. Cramming the shelves of line after line of tall bookcases towards the back of the store, I discovered the biggest range of good quality second hand books that I have ever clapped eyes on in my entire life.

Now, I’ve been a browser of second hand book shops for many a year, but never before have I seen such an extensive range of pre-loved books as on display at Eumundi.

Time stood still for me as I pored over the multitude of books contained on the shelves. Upon leaving the store, I had become the proud owner of four books, written by one of my favourite authors, Daphne Du Maurier. Adding to the charm of my finds, each book had been neatly autographed by its original owner, dates included, going back to 1958. The same man had owned all four books.

The best frittata I have ever tasted came from a cafe in Eumundi. The name of the cafe escapes me now, although I could go back there today and find it in an instant. This cafe is right across the road from Berkelouw Books, on Memorial Drive.

How do I describe the magical quality of Eumundi, this sleepy town, held peacefully within the palms of a time-warp? How do I explain the feelings of euphoria I experience when visiting there?

To put it simply, I can’t explain why I feel this way, any more than I can understand whether it is a feeling unique to me, or whether others have also felt the magical touch of serenity within the timeless buildings and rolling green hills just outside of the main town centre.

Could I live in Eumundi? Yes, I could drop everything here, and move to Eumundi in an instant, even though its climate belies the four seasons I hold so dearly to my heart and constantly miss, due to living in a sub-tropical area.

The natural elation I experience during a visit to Eumundi is worth sacrificing cooler weather for…  🙂