Choosing to collect.

I love collections.

I know people who collect frog things, owl things, cat things, odd coffee mugs, souvenir spoons, buttons, cook books, stamps, patches, garden gnomes - almost everything you can think of. And this is not just a female thing - men will collect everything from beer mats to cars.  People enjoy their collections, which satisfy personal needs and help with bonding to family and friends. If you are a collector of post cards you are more likely to receive one from Aunty Val when she goes to Fiji, because she sees them in the gift shop and immediately thinks of you. She might also buy an owl figurine and a snow globe for the cousins who collect those.

I think to be a collector you must have a streak of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder).  I have a touch  of that - if symptoms are matching the pegs colours on the washing line, unease that books in a series can't be shelved by height AND author and resorting my button box annually ... size or colour or shape is the big question.  It's just one box.

The experts say people collect for emotional value, not financial. Collecting can provide us with a sense of security, help us cope with anxiety or connect with a person or time that is important to us.  Savage collecting can be a hunt, a quest - a never ending pursuit.  This does not include people who collect to resell for profit, that is business, or hoarders, which I am often called. Hoarders will hang onto anything, empty cat food tins, newspapers, string (well string is good to keep), but not items to treasure or display - and so not really a collection.

And collections do not include stashes for hobbies - piles of fabric, boxes of thread and ribbon or stacks of wood and containers of nails and fixings needed by quilters, wood carvers, toy makers, crafters and artists.  So, my fabric stash is not a collection.

I was given a stamp album when I was about 10 years old. Even in those days I didn't get many letters and had to buy stamps to put in the book until the great aunties cottoned on and started sending me envelopes of their used stamps, but so many were the same and then I found you really should research the different countries and mount the stamps by issue date ... and it just wasn't my thing, at that age. I still find it hard to throw a stamp away, so I cut it carefully from the envelope and slip it into a box to keep, until I find a charity that uses them. That leaves me free to resort the button box.

I started a collection of small dolls when I was about 12 and by my late 30's I had 70 dolls from all over the world - representing over 50 countries. I didn't travel, but other people did and it gave them the idea of bringing home a doll for me and some of the dolls I had dressed myself.

When I reached the point of packing a house and three children to move interstate, I had to shed some things. The dolls represented a carton to carry and my daughter was not a doll person so ...  

I presented my collection to the library of the Primary School my children had attended. The librarian ...ummed and ...arred and obviously didn't want them - how could she not want them, they were lovely and all came from different parts of the world.  I just left the dolls and walked away and tried not to wonder what became of them.

The world is full of beautiful things I would like to collect including, but not limited to, children's books, modern art, period costumes, chairs, tote bags, small decorative containers, rag dolls, and pottery.  Collecting is time consuming and expensive. I had to make a decision to avoid collecting. 

Years after the big move, and a few smaller moves and children growing up and away, I found the Matryoshka doll my mother bought back from Germany in 1974.  It was the one small doll I kept from the box donated to the library.  I've always loved these Russian nesting dolls and really wished I knew more about them. So, I'd found something I could collect and research and treasure and display - something people could identify with me or have in common with me.   

Google brought a whole cyber world of information and history and on-line Matryoshka shops to browse and Babushka kitsch to buy. Some Matryoshkas are signed by the artists who painted them, some are made with stick on faces. The prices vary from about $10 up to $100s for dolls that are works of art.  I now have a collection of doll sets that I love, dolls I've bought on special occasions, some imported from Russian, some bought by family and friends travelling overseas and one special set made by a lovely friend.

Beside the dolls is another collection of related items that are not dolls, including salt and pepper shakers, measuring cups, egg poachers, drinking glasses, coffee mugs, storage boxes, canisters, nail files, scissors, wrapping paper, gift bags, tea towels, fabric pieces, sew on patches, soft toys, key rings, lip gloss holders and more  - the world has gone mad over Russian Matryoshka, aka Babushka, nesting doll stuff - and I am happy about that - because I collect them.

  

--------------

And, this is another Russian Doll,
for anyone who remembers  ........

How did you MAKE that?

So many blogs I read are on arts and crafts and I enjoy looking at all the lovely things being made - so I thought it's probably time to show my work. It will have to be something a little bit novel as my crafting skills are just average. This latest project surprised me when it came out as well as it did.

I make laundry bags for Aussie Hero Quilts and Laundry Bags, to send to Aussie personnel deployed overseas.  I enjoy it because I know the bags will help people keep track of their laundry and that saves time often spent trying to find a clean uniform.  Also I can also be as creative as I like.  More information is available on the AHQ blog - http://aussieheroquilts.blogspot.com.au/

Laundry bags - cotton drill, and printed duck with kangaroos

Probably most of the AHQers make quilts - I've not done a large project like that for years, and quilts are mostly repetitive - that's not a put down, I love quilts, I love traditional patterns and modern styles. I love the fact that so much work goes into them. I especially love scrap quilts and crazy quilting, but - for me, once the design is decided the most interesting part is over.  Until it's completed, that is - holding up a quilt you have made yourself, or that has been made for you, is a very special feeling.

We had a dinner in Brisbane for the Qld AHQers and along with speeches, door prizes and a pretty good raffle, there was a laundry bag competition.  The theme was open, but the Aussie flavour seemed to be the most popular. I wanted to enter just to be in it and thought maybe I could have fun and be really creative.

I had a picture in my head of a photo bombing giraffe I'd seen on line and a painting by my little grandniece, Izzy. I thought of making a wall hanging or cushion from that image - but with an Aussie animal. Earlier in the year I'd used left over strips of fabric for the desert landscape above, with Ayres Rock and a kangaroo -  I could do that again.

Giraffe by Izzy

My plan was to draw onto calico with fabric pens, fuse that to the bag and see if I could draw more into it with the sewing machine - not embroidering, I'll leave that to the very clever ladies with wonderful computer embroidery machines -  just drawing with sewing thread using the common straight and zigzag stitches.

Now to the design.  Australia = big blue sky, bright sunshine, orange earth, lots of green, and blue ocean. Recently I'd made a block for a group quilt with these colours - it was included in the quilt they raffled at the dinner.

Aussie theme patchwork block

Choosing animals. I like kangaroos but they are not easy to draw - they can turn into huge mice or rabbits if you aren't careful. I wanted something orange to contrast with the blue I'd chosen as a background so I tried a kangaroo.

Years ago I made papier mache animals as stage props. They were the size of small children and were carried across the stage by the small children.  One was an emu. He'd be perfect.

Drawing animals is not easy for me and I always need to research. Once upon a time I'd be searching through books and magazines, then photocopying the pictures, but now we can google anything. I cfound animals in the positions I wanted, copied them. turned them black and white, erased the details and outlined the shape - just love PhotoShop.   I worked out the size I wanted then cut the pictures up in the program, as my printer only takes A4.  When printed I stuck the bits together, cut out the shape and used it as a guide to get the outline and proportions, drawing around it with a 3B pencil. The choice of picture is important because any foreshortening does not translate to a flat image.

Once the outline was on the fabric I filldc in the details with ink, looking back at the original photo on the computer screen. The pose or expression can be changed at this stage.  Colour and shading was done with fabric ink pens I bought on line.  When I felt it was ready I cut out the calico animal. The kangaroo looked uncomfortable - but they look that way in photos too. I had high hopes for the emu.

The background had to be sky blue but I didn't have the right colour. I like to use a medium weight cotton drill or printed duck for the laundry bags because it's sturdy and nice to sew and comes in lots of colours.  But my usual ebay sellers couldn't help me with sky blue drill or similar so I was forced to actually go to a shop. I'm not an expert on fabric but love to handle it and finally found some cotton chino in the right colour. I'd never seen Chino before.  It was a bit lighter in weight than the fabric I usually use, and felt a lot softer, but looked almost the same.... hmmm.

The blue alone lacked richness so adding a strip of bright yellow desert, in cotton drill, to the bottom made a big difference. Using a fabric fix I ironed/glued the animals to the chino.  Ugh. Chino is not the same as drill.  It stretched out of shape and twisted. Also it was very humid that day and the fixative came away from the backing and didn't iron on properly. That turned out to be a good thing as I was able to pull the calico off and stretch the chino in the other direction - almost flat.  But, it meant the glue didn't take hold at the edge ... so all the edges would have to be covered by stitching. These little accidents along the way have a part in defining the finished piece, and I love that. Art often wanders in a different direction to the pattern.

Heat fusing the sketches on calico to the backing and stitching on Kangaroo

Stitching, stitching, stitching. I changed top thread colours but kept a neutral in the bobbin. The back of the piece was almost as interesting as the front. Some areas were straight stitched first, outlining the eyes and some long feathers, but most were zig zagged in different widths, making sure feathers or fur stitches covered all the raw edges.  I worked on the stitching for 4 or 5 days - in spurts. I loved it.  Maybe it wasn't exactly like drawing with thread, a little more like painting at times, I was learning what my machine would do in the way of free stitching and it was exciting to see the animals develop under the sewing machine.  I love the eyes on both of them and Emu's little grin is his own. Kangaroo looked a bit nervous so I added a stalking emu and then Emu needed a kangaroo to chase him.

Ironing the back of the fabric to smooth out puckering  - stitching feathers onto Emu

There are no instructions to give because the stitching is like drawing, you go with what feels right at the time. I did spend time unpicking tiny stitches when the Chino stretched our of shape, several times. And no, I didn't win the competition - I didn't really expect to. I find the sort of things I make never get the popularity vote, I think my designs have to grow on people - and, the judges were male soldiers. They are not into fabric art, they want something to give them a laugh, to tell jokes about and that's what they chose.  Congratulations to the winners, who understood the nature of their recipients.

At this stage the bag was one flat piece. I decided on where to fold it, ironed, stitched the side seam (three rows of stitching), ironed, added the channel for a drawstring, lined the bag with flannel shirt type checks and ironed again. While sewing the bottom seam I realised the bottom of the Emu and Kangaroo would meet in an ugly, thick lump. All I could do was sew in another folded strip of fabric to at least make colour break. The final job was to thread the drawstring through. I use cotton sash cord because it feels so nice.

OOppppsssss I had cut out a yellow sun which was to be over-stitched in white, but I  forgot to attach it before sewing on the drawstring channel. By that time I'd done so much sewing and unpicking ... I just couldn't do anymore. The sun was left off.

One flat piece - side seam stitched and ooopps, the sun wasn't included - bottom seam done with inset strip
- Kangaroo on a full laundry bag.

I posted the bag away and found I missed Emu's face for days, almost like losing a pet. When I saw it in the display a week later he seemed to have settled down and was sitting fairly flat.  I wonder who will open a parcel one day, pleased to get a new laundry bag, and find my Emu looking back at them. I'd love to see that.

The finished bag - Kangaroo's side with the lining hanging out, Emu in all his glory
and demonstrating how he'll look on a full laundry bag. He might be a little bit scary.

What next?

It's impossible to prepare for everything, even though we try.  This 2013/14 summer began with threats of bush fires, damaging storms and cyclones - not all at once but it seemed like it  And a year ago we couldn't have guessed that a brand new baby would now be part of our extended family. Two years ago we didn't think we'd still have a dog. Disaster or delight, tremendous or trivial -  there are no guarantees. And when we do survive and find that new kind of normal something else will come along ... what next?  We just can't imagine.

Our family and friends know our dog and how much a part of our lives he is.  Now coming close to his 13 birthday (March 2014) we are aware he won't live forever and we've tried to prepare for that while avoiding the toe tapping wait mode. As a medium size male dog his life expectancy is about 10.  Being an active male Staffie could lower that - but, he is de-sexed, on a good diet, exercised daily, lives inside the house and sleeps on a soft surface - so his life expectancy is 12+. 

For the first five years we had very few problems, apart from noticing we had a hyperactive dog who madly chased anything that moved. And we soon found we had to check him daily for ticks and remove those, every day. Short haired dogs don't need brushing and a squirt from the hose can extend bathing for weeks.

There was a broken tooth, caused by chewing big logs and a split claw, possibly caused by rolling big logs in the paddock and both of these had to be removed under anaesthetic. A wound received when he was attacked by wild dogs required the vet's attention. Then he began growing warty things and a few mystery lumps on his legs. These were cut off and a grass seed embedded in his bottom lip led to the removal of the lip, so now he looks up at you and shows his bottom teeth.

Along the way he suffered pancreatitis which required not one, but two trips to the all-night vet hospital, in heavy rain, followed by a low fat diet forever. When a lump that had been growing on his nose was diagnosed as a mast cell tumour the vet felt we would only have him for a few more months - that was in Dec 2009. We held our breath and prepared. Half his nose was taken off in July 2010 and he went onto a homeopathic remedy. He recovered well, though he sneezes more than other dogs.  However arthritis was developing in his hips - we hoped it would slow him down. That was enough, and we looked for a smooth run ahead.

In March 2011 his right back leg went limp and we were told the knee had to be rebuilt. When you have a dog with a huge personality, who communicates well, is usually obedient and never chews your shoes how can't say 'no'.  Three months convalescence was hard on all of us and then in December the other knee went and we went through it all again. What next?

Time passes and we forget. I changed his diet to almost no commercial food and we added sweet potato, pumpkin, oats and psyllium husk powder to his home cooked meat. We had a healthy, happy dog.

We try to keep Rufous close to us, always on a rope or lead but there are still times when he can't resist the call of the wild by running after a kangaroo or dashing off to welcome a visitor and changing direction to chase a kookaburra - and he comes home limping. Our hearts sink until he's had a good rest and recovers. It's sad to hold back a dog who loves to run. His high need for activity has to be satisfied by several walks a day and a short run on a long rope.  He loves being outside so playing with ants under the clothes line or watching RJ weed the crop is good for him.

Early one Friday morning, hubby RJ was tending the new ginger on the far side of the farm, near a neighbour's house. The neighbour was upset about the loss of several chickens overnight and they were discussing the possibility of foxes or wild dogs, with Rufous sitting quietly nearby. As usual the rope on his collar was attached to a long stick which he drags along when walking as a reminder to him, and which can be tucked under something heavy if he has to stay put.

Something moved in the bush. Without warning Rufous was off - rope flying behind, stick bouncing along the ground until it caught between two trees, held for a split second, the weathered rope broke ......  dog gone.

I knew nothing of this, being asleep in bed at home. The phone rang about 8am and I didn't get to it in time. A message on the answering machine identified Lisa who said she had found a 'little' Staffie and could I phone her back.  What?

I phoned RJ and asked, "Where is Rufous?"

His uninformative reply was, "I don't know".

"Um .... isn't he with you?"

"No".

That was no help. I phoned Lisa and asked her to describe the dog.

"He has a sore nose," she said.  "The phone number was scratched on his registration tag."

Oh yes, I remember - I'd done that months ago when two adventuring Staffies had turned up at our house and we contacted the owners through the phone number on one of the collars.

Lisa and I swapped addresses - she was actually in our street but right at the top of the very steep hill and on the opposite side of a deep gully. To get there Rufous would have run uphill through dense bushland. There are deep gorges, a creek and several springs in there as well as thorns and spiky plants and possible wild dogs, foxes, snakes and kangaroos. She offered to drive him home as she was about to take her girls to school.  I couldn't suggest walking up to their driveway because I can't walk Rufous home on the lead without being molested by all the other dogs in our street.  I waited by our letter box with his lead and soon saw a little red car approaching, very slowly. Behind the L plates was a teenage driver in school uniform. In the back seat, beside another girl in school uniform, sat my darling boy, looking as if he was always chauffeured by pretty girls.

Lisa jumped from the front passenger seat and helped Rufous climb out of the car, still trailing a wet broken rope. I snapped his lead on quickly. He didn't look at me but turned away to sniff grass along the roadside.

"He's a lovely boy," Lisa said. "He had a good play with our boy before we knew he was there. We've had Staffies in the past and we know a good one when we see it. Now we have a Neo Mastiff".

I was numb, still thinking of what might have happened if I'd not scratched the phone number onto his tag.  Mastiffs are big dogs, aren't they?  We waved goodbye. At home Rufous had a huge drink of water. I wiped him down and he was soon asleep. RJ came in feeling guilty. I just hoped Ruffies new knees would be okay. He limped a bit, but at the hip, not the knee. Phew.

I googled.  'Neapolitan Mastiffs are one of the largest dog breeds with males weighing up to 80kg and measuring 65-75cm (26-30"). They are heavy boned and thickset with a big broad head.  They salivate heavily particularly when they are hot or after eating and drinking. If they want to come inside the house you'll have to wipe their mouths and faces with a towel.'  That's a big sloppy dog.

Monday morning at 8.30 I was asleep (I stay up late). RJ stuck his head around door and said, "I've just phoned the vet and they say to bring Rufous up straight away".

"What? Why?"

"He's peeing blood".

"What?"

"He'll be okay, go back to sleep".

As if.  "Ask them to cut his nails while he's there".

There were two phone conversations during the day and then they said we could collect him at 4.30.  He had been sedated to have his bladder x-rayed and blood samples taken (and nails trimmed). Urine had been collected and they walked him around until they got a poo sample. He was howling with boredom when we arrived.

The x-ray showed an odd shape in his bladder. Tumour?  The samples were sent away for testing and the x-ray went to a specialist for diagnosis.  We came home with 10 days' supply of antibiotics and a receipt for a lot of money.  A few days later the vet phoned to say Rufous had an E-coli infection in the bladder and needed another 30 days on antibiotics.  What about the bladder shadow?  No one knows what that is.  Oh.

I googled.  'E-coli is the most common bacterium isolated in canine urinary tract infections. Dogs may have an urinary tract infection at any age but in male dogs it is generally classified as complicated. E-coli can invade the host's immune system. One possible source of E-coli is drinking water contaminated by faeces.'

The antibiotics were big white tablets, just right to feed to a dog ... NOT.  They have grooves in them so they break into four small pieces ... if you have huge muscles in your fingers.  Give with food - that should be possible if they are not too bitter.  I licked one - errrk.

The dose was three half tablets twice a day. I experimented with cooked oats, rolling little balls, pushing the half tab inside and then dipping into melted coconut oil (he loves it) or peanut butter (loves that too) and convince him it was a treat. He often swallows treats whole if there is another one waiting - but he can also swish it around his mouth, swallow the good bits and spit out the tablet.

That was good for the morning tabs. In the afternoon I tried to deprive him of snacks and fed him a little bit late so he was hungry enough to eat up the loaded oat balls hidden in his cooked meat and sweet potato. They all went down, mostly. If food was left in the bowl I temped him with a smear of peanut butter - but even with good fats I have to be careful because of his history with pancreatitis.

I was quite good at serving up his meds after 40 days. The follow up urine test showed no blood or infection.

It's not easy keeping Rufous tethered all the time, but it's much safer at his age. He likes to be outside and can still get up to mischief, eating possum poo when we aren't looking, getting bitten by ants when he tries to play with them, lunging at toads, biting the heads off lizards, trashing cardboard cartons. He plays hide and seek games with me and chasing with RJ.  He has a good life but he's not pampered - all dogs sit on the couch to watch TV, don't they?

Many other dogs are not looked after as well. There are dogs around here that run wild all day, sleep outside on hard ground, get chilled in wet weather, eat crap and tinned food and don't even have their ticks removed.  If Rufous picked up that E-coli infection during his two hour escapade up the hill why don't all these other dogs get it too?  And that is the mystery parents of young children wonder about. 

You just never know what will happen next so look after your pets and your children and all the other people you care for, treasure them and let them be a blessing - there are no guarantees for safety or long life.

Looking at the MOON

I struggle to understand the phases and orbits of our MOON - and conversations with my Science teacher husband and my Scientist brother, who both claim knowledge and understanding of moons, planets and space stuff as one of their high interest subjects, just lead to my brain shutting down and I'm soon humming the old nursery rhyme.... 

I see the moon,    
The moon sees me.  
God bless the moon, 
And God bless me.

I do know the moon is about a quarter the size of the earth, that it takes 27.3 days to orbit the earth and I've also read that it takes 29 days to go through it's 'phases', from full moon to no moon, new moon and full moon again.  Apparently that has something to do with the moons slightly sloppy orbit, so that each time it goes around it takes a little longer and that's as far as my understanding goes.

However, I do enjoy creative stories, origins and interesting history tit-bits and there are even some jokes about the moon.

Q. What was the name of the first satellite to orbit the Earth?

A. The moon.

Starting with a strange, but true story, one that comes along once in a BLUE MOON ...... we all see that the moon is bright white or silver or sometimes yellowish, but not blue. Way back in the 14th century they knew the moon (or moone with a silent e) was not blue. An expression of that time - 'he would argue that the moon was blue' meant the same as our expression - 'she'd say black was white'.  So reference to a blue moon meant it was not so, or could not be.

As very little on this earth stays the same for long, a time came when people did see a blue coloured moon. Viewing the moon, at a certain angle, through a haze of chemicals like sulphur, can make the moon look bluish.  In 1883 the Indonesian volcano Krakatau erupted and the dust in the atmosphere made the moon look blue in many parts of the world for almost two years.  In 1927 a very long dry season in India caused enough dust for a blue moon and in 1951 the northern USA saw a blue moon through the smoke from forest fires in Canada. This does not happen very often and so the meaning of the expression altered to refer to something that happened rarely, or from time to time. 

But even this adaption didn't stay in place forever. Centuries ago people around the world  used different calendars and had different names and dates for the months of the year and it was all a bit of a mess if you were travelling. Some calendars followed the phases of the moon, others were based on movements of the sun. Gradually, due to trade and business, these different calendars were adjusted until most of the world was on the same page calendar wise. 

So, we have the year divided into 12 months, each month roughly 30 - 31 days. But the lunar month of 29 days from full moon full moon, is shorter than our calendar month and so it happens occasionally that a month will have two full moons.  This rare event of the second moon in a calendar month has recently become known as a blue moon.  Apparently it happens about 7 times in every 19 years - my husband explained this is because every 19 years the starting point of the earth's orbit around the sun, and the starting point of the moons orbit around the earth line up and they both begin again.

Q: "Why does the Moon orbit the Earth?"

A: "To get to the other side?"

This step in the naming of this phenomenon only developed in the last 25 - 30 years,  cemented into place by the media (it's a cool story when it happens) and also it became an answer in the trivial pursuit game.  This is exciting as it illustrates so well that we live in living history.

And a modern use for the blue moon - poets, and song writers use it to symbolise sadness and loneliness -  see as the Rodgers and Hart Blue Moon duet below - lots of great versions on YouTube.

HE SINGS:

Blue Moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own

SHE SINGS:
Blue Moon
You knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for

In some areas the moon was such a part of daily life that it stood for the period of time we now call month. The modern honeymoon holiday for newly married couples originates with a custom that began in 4th century Northern Europe.  To start married life on a sweet note, newlyweds drank mead, a drink brewed with honey, every day for the first moon (or month) of their life together - and that was a honeymoon.

A SUPER MOON is another good media story when it appears, and a great opportunity for photographers to show off.  Because the path of the moon's orbit around the earth is an elipse, not a circle there are times when the moon is closer to the earth than it is at other times.  When this closer position happens during a full moon it is called a super moon. People are convinced the moon is huge - but to my eye it's just nearer. 

2013 Super moon over central Australia

We know the moon is made of rock. Astronauts have been to the moon, walked around in the moon dust and brought rocks back to earth so it's difficult for us to understand that at one time people believed the moon was made of something else. We can check back to the 16th century again because that was when the printing press was invented meaning that from then on more copies of printed  works existed and some were kept while before that time the one or two hand made copies were lost of destroyed. We find that from the 16th and 17th centuries there were references to the moon being made of cheese.   

An English poet, John Heywood (1497 - 1580) wrote,  "Ye set circumquaques to make me beleue/ Or thinke, that the moone is made of greene cheese."   (You set circumstances to make me believe or think, that the moon is made of green cheese).  This mocking of the idea that the moon was made of cheese was possibly because some people at the time actually believed it was.   

An ancient folk tale tells of a simple farm boy who sees the reflection of the moon in the water of a pond. Not sure what it is he relates it to something of the same shape that he understands - a wheel of cheese. New, or un-aged cheese was called green cheese.  The story was told over and over and and as so often happens the origin meaning changed to the opposite meaning and up to the 19th century many children actually believed the moon was made of cheese!

Q. What do you get when you take green cheese and divide its circumference by its diameter?
A. Moon pi.

So with everyone looking at the moon over thousands of years it's no surprise that minstrels sang about a MAN IN THE MOON....


The man in the moon 
came down too soon
and asked his way to Norwich;
He went by the south 
and burnt his mouth

while supping cold pease porridge.

Of course this is a bit of nonsense - you can't burn your mouth on cold porridge so it follows that the man in the moon is nonsense too. But, strange creatures that we are this rhyme only added to the belief, at least among children, that there was a man in the moon.

In 1638 an English bishop named Francis Godwin wrote a sci fi book called The Man in the Moone, about a voyage to the moon. The Man in the Moon appeared in ballads and folk stories in many different cultures. This came from shadows on the moon taking on facial features. 

From my own childhood I remember -  

'Hello Mr Moon face, high up in the sky.
I can see you smiling, while in bed I lie'.

But I never actually saw the face in the moon as I grew up in the Southern hemisphere and these old stories come from the old world in the north.  European tradition was to see the figure of an old man on the full moon. He often carried a burden and was accompanied by a dog.

The need to have a visible place of banishment to frighten law breakers could be the reason some Germanic and Roman traditions represent the man in the moon as a thief being punished.  In Chinese mythology the goddess Chang'e is stranded on the moon, with a group of moon rabbits, after drinking a double dose of immortality potion.

The moon has a gravitational pull on the earth and so it affects the wind and the ocean tide. Once again that's the limit of my scientific knowledge.  The moon has been there for a long time so we named it. Our word moon comes from an Old English word, mona.  It was mene in Old German, mano in Old Saxon and Danish. By the 15th century English people were spelling it as moone and then moon.

In Latin the word for moon is Luna and this is still used for things relating to the moon such as the luna calendar.  Luna was also the moon goddess and from her we get the words lunacy and lunatic.  It was believed that the moon affected people and animals, causing madness or illness during the full moon. Science cannot prove this is true but many policemen, nurses and doctors think otherwise. Myths about werewolves or lycanthropes, men who transformed from a man into a wolf under the influence of the full moon, are still part of popular entertainment. 

But whatever you believe the moon is a beautiful thing.

2013 Full moon from east coast Australia

FULL MOON By Walter de la Mare

One night as Dick lay fast asleep,

 Into his drowsy eyes

A great still light began to creep

From out the silent skies.

It was the lovely moon's, for when

He raised his dreamy head,

Her surge of silver filled the pane

And streamed across his bed.

So, for a while, each gazed at each-

Dick and the solemn moon-

Till, climbing slowly on her way,

She vanished, and was gone.

This is a Moon Pie

using GINGER

Like many people my early life experience with ginger was limited to ginger snap biscuits (yum) and crystallised ginger (yuk).  I didn't know how ginger grew or what it looked like.  Apparently I wasn't alone in this lack of knowledge because now that I know something about ginger other people expect me to answer all their questions.  My hubby has always had a heart for farming and had done bits and pieces over the years.  Twenty two years ago we moved to a house in a sub-tropical forest which was next to a ginger farm. The first thing I noticed was the lovely smell, a peppery lemon scent that drifted on the air while they were harvesting ginger.  Our two boys worked on the ginger harvest as their first jobs.  It was only for a week or so at a time and they enjoyed doing man's work outdoors, coming home for lunch with mud encrusted feet and legs and knowing how well they did when they were paid by the bucket at the end of each day.  We got to know what ginger looked like then and I began to use it in stir fries.

Harvesting ginger

A few years later we wanted to do some farming and decided to go into organics. While the land was in conversion we grew a variety of herbs, including parsley, basil, rosemary, garlic and also shallots. And various vegetables and flowers were tried at different times - I loved the sunflowers.  It was hard work, learning as you go and we soon found the packing and transport was the most difficult side of the business.  By this time our neighbour had retired and was no longer growing ginger.  We were looking for something a bit easier to ship to the city and the idea of organic ginger came about.  So, WE became organic ginger farmers.  It's the 'Royal Wee'  Big R says, as I don't do any actual hands-on farming.  So I don't plough or plant or weed or fertilize. I don't dig or pull up or wash or trim the rhizome but it's still a 'we' because I label boxes, help with packing, do the necessary paperwork, phone calls, emails, bill paying etc and that adds up to a normal little we.

Ginger growing in our paddock

Ginger is native to Asia and used in many Asian and Arabic dishes and also has uses as a medicinal herb.  It's often described as pungent, (strong/sharp taste) but that varies from one type of ginger to another.  It goes well into sweet or savoury dishes. Use it fresh, dried, cooked, raw or sugary - crystallised ginger is ginger boiled in sugar and then rolled in sugar crystals.  Ginger can also be preserved or pickled in vinegar - a little like ginger sauerkraut.

Small piece of new season ginger with flags

To grow - Ginger grows underground like a root, but is called a rhizome.   Several leafy stems, or flags, grow above the ground to the height of about a metre.  Planted in spring it takes around six months to mature and then you can pull up the early harvest ginger, which has a light, sweet flavour.  About three months later the green flags, begin to yellow and wilt. The rhizome stops growing but it can be left underground for a few more months.  Ginger picked at this stage is late harvest ginger. To pick the ginger you loosen the soil and pull up the rhizome. The flags can be snapped off and then it should be washed and the little stringy roots trimmed away.  When peeled the flesh is creamy coloured, fibrous and moist.  The early harvest ginger has a pinkish flush and is light in flavour.  Late harvest ginger is thicker skinned and deeper in flavour. 

To buy - when shopping for ginger, choose a rhizome that is firm and smells fresh. You don't want it if it's been sitting around for a while, feels rubbery or has black squishy spots.

To store - everyone asks me how to store ginger.  I've heard that it's good to store it in a plastic bag in the fridge but I've found that makes it soft and soggy.  I've also heard people say they freeze ginger to make it easier to grate, but I have not had any success with that.  I leave it on the bench or in the fruit bowl and it's fine for about ten days, depending on how old it was in the first place.  If you need to cover it use a brown paper bag. The best idea is to only buy what you need and use it within a few days.

To cut - first chop the ginger into easy to handle pieces and peel off the skin. It can be a little hard to hold being wet and small, like a piece of carrot.  I use a knife and slice it into discs.  I find these are easy to hold in one hand while I peel around the edge.   Then it can be chopped into chunks or thin strips.  I've heard people talk about grating ginger but I find that difficult because it is so fibrous.  I once bought a bamboo ginger grater that was not successful for me as it didn't grate the ginger and then it went moldy in our sub tropical summer. A food processor could be better than a grater as it would save the juice.  Only peel what you are using as it won't keep without it's skin.  I suppose that's why you can also buy powdered ginger and preserved ginger.

Slice, peel, chop - and into the pot

To cook - add ginger slices or strips to stir-fries, curries, soups or stews or drop into the water when cooking rice.  Some say that it's best to add ginger at the end of the cooking as the flavour can fade with stewing.  I love pumpkin soup with ginger added and I use it with olive oil to marinate chicken pieces and lamb steaks.

Many recipes are available for baking cakes, bread and biscuits with ginger, though most sweet recipes use powdered ginger (some people find too much powdered ginger causes bloating).  Recipes can be found on line for ginger jams, chutneys and sauces too.

To serve raw - chop finely or grate (if you have a better grater than I have) and sprinkle over salads and sandwiches, or over hot meat and vegetables. I have sometimes used the vegetable peeler to make very thin slices.

To drink - Apart from the popular ginger ale, ginger beer and ginger wine you can make ginger tea.  Drop one or two teaspoons of finely chopped fresh ginger into a mug, and cover with boiling water. Let it sit for five minutes, stir and drink as tea, either hot or cold.  You can add honey if you want a sweet drink.  Or, you could drop a disc of ginger into your cup of black tea, instead of lemon. Much better in black tea though as milk coats the ginger and the flavour is sealed in.

For medicine - My herb books say that ginger contains potassium, magnesium, manganese, vitamin B6 and copper.  It is traditionally used to calm digestive troubles, motion sickness, morning sickness and dizziness. It can also help with symptoms of colds and flu - hot ginger tea can be comforting. Crushed ginger can be used in a poultice for arthritis.

There is a warning for ginger use, which also applies to garlic.  Ginger, especially in large doses, can interfere with medications that slow blood clotting as ginger is a blood thinner and can interact with that medication. Anyone on medication for heart disease, diabetes or high blood pressure should be careful so check with the doctor, pharmacist or naturopath if you plan to have ginger on a regular basis. 

Using fresh ginger once or even twice a week should be fine for most people.  I have Asian friends who say they comfortably use ginger and garlic in their family meals every day.