My Suburban Life

Yesterday was hot in Hobart. Real hot. I left my Moonah office early with the soul purpose of heading to the local icecream emporium, Valhalla, to buy a large delicious scoop of my favourite -  salted caramel. Mmmmmm! Outside the shop sitting on the bench seat is an older woman with a large icecream cone in hand.  She has the most youthful, joyous expression and as we glance towards each other, we both smile.  In that moment we are connected through the unspoken solidarity of mature women unashamedly eating large cones of good icecream on a hot day. Her legs are swinging like a young girl, so happy with her moment in the shade on a hot day. I remember my ex mother in law telling me that as a young lady she, and her cohorts from the ladies college, were forbidden to eat icecream in public. I don’t think this was just about the risk of stains on uniforms. I suspect this was concerned for the moral fortitude of the young ladies and the risk that licking an icecream in public could

At a time when consumerism is an epidemic and products are designed and manufactured to fail within a few years or even a few months, a trip to the opportunity or tip shop can be a welcome reprieve. Not only do they offer practical and affordable replacements, but much like a treasure hunt, sometimes we can find gold. Glenorchy offers a number of excellent op shops, second hand stores and the Glenorchy Tip Shop, where I recently spotted a beautiful little timber boat, complete with oars. For anyone with kids or with the skills to bring this little gem back to its former glory, it is a bargain at $120. I had to resist throwing in on the roof racks. It would be great to paddle on the Derwent, but instead I settled for a 1970’s coffee table. I’m not an avid fashion shopper, in fact I almost come out in hives when I enter the shiny, chrome lined glitzy shops, but I am a passionate op shopper and I am familiar with most in the municipality. My latest favourite is the Hobart Ci

Nothing tastes better than home grown vegies. The land around Merton, which was the original name for this part of Glenorchy, used to be farmland and orchards. Over the years it has been replaced, but for anyone keen to grow their own food, there is a treasure trove of top soil that is just gagging for some action. I’ve opted for raised beds close to the kitchen and fruit trees and berries in the larger yard, along with natives for shade and to attract the birds. The raised beds are already paying off and each trip outside leads me to the sweet sugar snap peas that dangle in wait. Luckily the dogs haven’t taken to eating them. My previous, Rudi the Wonder Dog, loved a fresh pea off the vine. So this morning, as I looked in my somewhat sparse fridge, I decided to do a poor mans pizza for breakfast. It’s a simple and satisfying experience and coupled with freshly brewed coffee it is hard to beat. Ingredients: Flat bread Garlic oil from the fridge, made with my sisters garlic

About four minutes from my house is the Glenorchy Pool. I went there this morning and was one of about six people doing laps. Slow, lethargic, rhythmical laps. None of us were breaking records. I didn’t know anyone else. I borrowed goggles and paid my $5 and I was in the water. Beautiful blue, clear, peaceful water. Freestyle was my chosen stroke. The first few laps were a struggle; mentally I was overthinking everything. It’s been a while since I did laps. It was a little like trying to meditate. You know, when people say... ‘Clear your mind of everything.’ Easier said than done. Thoughts rushed through my mind and it seemed that with every exhale the stress and angst dissolved, until that crust that weighs you down had disappeared into the water. I did laps as a kid; training early morning before heading to school. I have fond memories of the old pool at Windmill Hill in Launceston; the narrow corridor filled with water that you had to wade through to get into the pools and the

My Suburban Life is both reference to where I live and how my life has unfolded. So, let’s begin with the simplest part of this....Glenorchy. Although, this suburb that sits north of the Hobart CBD is anything but simple. Claimed to be the most multicultural suburb in Tasmania, it is a cultural, political and social blend of people, attitudes and beliefs. I have been living in a quiet street for the last three years since I purchased a little 1960’s house that originally belonged to Norma and Cyril. It’s a warm, inviting and sunny house which reminds me of my childhood, with the tinted green laser light at the entrance and mix of red brick and timber. The large back yard which was immaculate lawn until I got my hands on it, would have once been a cricket pitch and paddocks next door have been replaced with many houses and units.  Three years is only a brief hello to this community and I feel that there is so much more to it than I have experienced. I guess it is the crossroads