We went to the races on Saturday…what a hoot! We dived into a shady spot on Rundle Mall, a TAB where all the gamblers lurk on beautiful sunny days, and watch TV screens and place bets! John was mortified and hung back, unwilling to be ‘seen’ taking part, so I had to ask a guy how to fill in my form, and then pay up my $12 for a win or a place! Then we got the tram back to Morphetville where the race track was, and we had such fun, watching the horses march about, and the owners swigging champagne in their winners enclosures and such like…I felt a bit like Jilly cooper, as I read ‘Jump’ not so long ago…she describes it all so well…John was associating more with Dick Francis…less sex and glamour in his writing!

Anyway we kept our Rebel Raider in our sights, until they finally paired him up with his jockey…dear God it was a girl, and she was a midget. But plucky. For she pulled him up from second last until when they galloped past at the finish, I was just about shrieking…and they came in 4th. NOT good enough. But what an afternoon!

I imagine the next ‘flutter’ we have will be on the Melbourne Cup, when everyone dresses up and makes a big day of it all. I do hope Black Caviar will be running…I intend to make my fortune on him. (hot tip!!!!)

Braved the rain and the dark last Thursday to go and see the High Priestess of Quilting…Sharon Schamber. Ladies of the Guild of Quilters had all gathered and were assembled.  It reminded me a bit of a scene from Roald Dahl’s ‘Witches’. Quilts were shown and admired from the various groups around South Australia, and then there was the imaginary drum beat as Queen Sharon took to the stage, along with her cowboy husband. That’s him on the left.

They had just come from the US, horribly jet lagged, but I was utterly enthralled along with everyone else. What an amazing talent. She dyed her fabric, painted art work on it, quilted it in all sorts of techniques, and what was shown was like something out of an art gallery. She says she quilts 15 hours a day…married her cowboy on the understanding that she would never cook or clean, and together they win all the prizes, and jet about giving presentations and demonstrations. I particularly loved a lady in a red dress, the folds of which just fall out of the portrait frame, as though she were alive

….then there was Sitting Bull, so powerful, and HUGE…later I had a close up view and saw all her stitches.

Yesterday I went to my new quilting group, where I have started another embroidery….the ladies were fun, talented and helpful, and I duly stitched and didn’t bitch, but listened! I am embroidering a centre piece of pale pink flowers that I will surround with a patchwork, hexagon quilt, to make a cushion for Gerry. Maybe it could be the ring holder and then become an heirloom! Oh well, I can dream.

Going south to the Fleurieu Peninsula on Saturday to stay with old friends I knew in Kota Kinabalu, way back in 1981…really looking forward to that, and I shall take my fishing rod.

In the meantime I am so upset by the News, and the awful pictures of London and horrible yobs, looting and burning. People are so horrible. But to leave on a positive note, there was a wonderful story here this week, about a a beached baby humpbacked whale. Everyone was pouring water on it, and finally dragged it back into the surf, and sent it off with a wish and a prayer. Whales voices can be heard for about 20 kms, so they say, so the rescuers were hopeful that the mother might hear him, and in the morning, when the helicopters and planes were cruising overhead they saw them, re united!

We are all being optimistic that it was indeed the stricken calf and he had a happy ending. Now onwards and upwards, and back to the Highland Rocks!