In Search of a Title

Snip Snip

Wed, 06 Jan 2010 04:08:01 GMT

Not sure about posting bits of my WIPs, but as I'm grumbling about this a lot lately, I thought I might share some.

This is from the excitingly titled Wind Weaver. Boy meets ship. Boy loses ship. Boy has to face down power-hungry satyr to get ship back.

"You look fine, sir." Even as the words left his mouth, Nate wondered if it was a smart thing to say, but Mr Byrne gave him an amused look. He stopped fiddling with his collar too.

Nate went over how he'd been told to act. He pulled his shoulders back. He lifted his head. He couldn't look anyone in the eye because the only person nearby was Mr Byrne and he was staring towards the station entrance. Although what he did or said didn't really matter, as long as he looked good. Then the other men would know that Mr Byrne could afford proper servants.

Nate took a deep breath. Maintaining that impression was a lot of responsibly though. What if he slipped over? The dirt road looked dry and stable, but sometimes that was the most treacherous. He leaned over and pushed the door shut without moving his feet.

"I should..." Mr Byrne smiled, a little nervously. "I will be back, later." He walked towards the train station.

Nate let his breath out.

"Was that so bad?" the coachman called as he climbed down.

"No," Nate said, and grinned. "So we wait now."

"We do." Tom patted the near horse on the flank. "Once I've checked over these two."

Which he wouldn't let Nate help with. "Can't have you smelling like horses," the coachman had said when Nate offered to help hitch the pair to the carriage.

Hopefully the meeting wouldn't take long. Nate couldn't see the platform from where he stood, the station building blocked his view. Beyond the station though, he could see part of the track.

When he worked at Bettham Park, he'd only seen the trains from a distance, as they passed the gate at the far end of the yard. He was closer now. He stood on the tips of his toes to see if he could get a better view of the track.

"Looking for something?" Tom asked, from the other side of the horses.

"Just the train."

"It'll come. You can go onto the platform and wait."

"I can?"

"Of course. As long as you're back before the master is, and you don't get dirty or make a fool of yourself," Tom crouched down beside the far horse, "or fall off the platform and get killed."

"I'll try not to."

Nate followed the dusty road up to the archway that led into the station. There he hesitated. No one shouted at him though, so he walked through.

The platform was a long, covered walkway along the side of the station building. At the far end, he saw his master, standing with two other men. Nate hesitated. Tom had said it was all right, but... Then Mr Byrne looked Nate's way. He obviously saw Nate, but he just turned back towards his colleagues.

It was all right to be here then.

On one side of the platform, a wide door led into the station building. A wooden sign beside the door had writing on it. Ticket O... Nate frowned. Off? It must be where they took the tickets off the passengers.

A bored-looking man sat on a wooden bench near the door. As Nate approached, the man sat up. He put one hand on a small cart from which came the smell of fresh strawberries. Nate studied the words on the side of the cart. Ice... oh, ice cream. He licked his lips. Strawberries and ice cream, was there anything more delightful?

The man beside the cart peered at Nate. "You buying?"

Nate shook his head.

The man sniffed and looked away.

Nate sighed. Then he remembered the train that was about to arrive. He shouldn't be greedy by wanting too many good things at once.

Down the track, he saw a light approaching. Was that the train? It came closer, following the track. Then came the whistle. He shivered. Soon he would see a train close up.

As it came closer, he saw the carriages following behind -- three long red boxes. The train clanked and squealed like it needed oiling. It charged in, still squealing, getting bigger and bigger. Nate took a quick step back.

Other people were coming onto the platform now. An old man walked by, so close he almost banged his suitcase against Nate's leg. The young woman with him was crying.

The train rattled past. Nate heard metal grinding against metal, then the huge beast slowed to a stop.

Doors opened along the sides of the carriages. Three men and a woman got out, then a boy about Nate's age. Nate watched him walk away. How wonderful it would be to rush from place to place behind such a powerful creature.

Nate took a step towards the rear carriage. No one shouted at him to get away. He took another step forward. Now he could see in the window. Two long padded seats faced each other, across a gap just big enough for the passengers' legs. It looked like the inside of a horse coach, but wider. Even the little curtains at the windows looked the same.

He looked down the length of the train. If each door opened into a compartment like this one, that meant, Nate paused to think, a hundred and twenty people could be carried by just one train. Many more than a team of horses. Trains didn't need to be fed or exercised either. Surely it was just a matter of time before trains were used everywhere instead of horses. Although it might be hard putting tracks all through the town, so horses wouldn't all be replaced.

Nate looked over his shoulder. Did he have time to look at the iron horse?

His master now stood on the edge of a group of men. The other men were nodding their heads or waving hands about, as if talking, but Mr Byrne was still. He mustn't be part of their group yet. It was strange to think that masters had a hierarchy too. Although they probably didn't drop hay bales on each other to gain an advantage.

Nate walked along the length of the train until he reached the iron horse. The first part looked like a little room for the driver, although he could see nowhere to sit. Nate stuck his head in. It had lots of handles and clock faces. Was that how they talked to the horse?

He moved on before the driver returned.

The wheels were bigger than any Nate had ever seen, almost as tall as he was. He looked up. The black horse itself, that was huge. How could anyone control something so big and powerful?

The whistle blew. Nate jumped back.

A man stuck his head out of the driver's room. "Don't get too close. We're pulling out in a bit."

Nate backed away. There was no sign of his master now. Surely he hadn't gone back already?

Nate hurried to the archway, not running, that was undignified and he might fall over, but as fast a walk as he could manage. Tom stood by the horses' heads, probably talking to them, and there was no sign of Mr Byrne. Nate relaxed. He walked back along the road at a more sedate pace.

Other coaches were parked along the edge of the road now. A big, black coach caught Nate's eye. The shiny black paintwork was embellished with gold swirls and lines. More swirls and lines had been carved around the edges. Nate looked through the window. Inside were plump, padded seats with arm rests and foot rests. It looked very comfortable.

Nate walked back to his own coach. It looked dull by comparison.

"Pretentious fool," Tom said.

"Me?"

"Never you, boy. The owner of that coach. You look at it closely next time. It's poorly made, probably done on the cheap. He put all the money into decoration, so he can impress people. Bet he regrets it every time he travels a rough road."

Nate just nodded. They all looked the same to him.

"Now with this one..." Tom patted the side of their coach. "Mr Byrne was smart. He got it cheap because its owner wanted a bigger one, but it's quality. You won't get bounced around as much in there, and it won't break easily either. You see, you can always make a drab coach look better, but fancy paintwork won't fix a faulty coach." He gave Nate a direct look. "Mr Byrne, he sees what really matters, not the surface appearance, doesn't he?"

Nate shuffled his feet. He felt Tom was talking about him, but he wasn't a coach. "I, ah, guess so."

Tom chuckled. He leaned against the side of the coach, and pulled a stick and folding knife from his pocket.

A darkhaired man came up to the black carriage. Nate turned away so he wasn't staring at it. "Why not buy a good carriage and then paint it fancy?"

"It takes money to do that, boy."

"But masters have money."

"They do," Tom chuckled, "but they also have servants to feed and clothe, and horses to look after, and a house to keep. That takes all their money."

"I hadn't thought of that. Mr Byrne doesn't have many servants, nothing like Lord Bettham, so he must have more money?"

"Other way around, boy. Mr Byrne has less money than your old master, so he can't afford as many servants. That's why he's wanting to go to all these meetings--"

"Where is my watch?" A hand thumped down on Nate's shoulder. He turned to find a man with a bushy black beard glaring down at him. "You thief, I saw you poking around my coach."

Help: lots of photos --> web page

Sat, 02 Jan 2010 07:34:29 GMT

This is something I've been meaning to do for years, but put off because it's too daunting. It's not going to get any better though.

When I visit places I take photos. You hadn't noticed this, I'm sure :) And many of these are "useful" type photos e.g. various rooms of a building from different angles, and close-ups of doors/windows/looks/other details. The ones that appear in LJ posts are only a fraction. Now it seems to me they'd be more useful if I took the time to document what they are, and also, that they'd be useful to other people so it might be worth organising them and putting them on a website.

But, would they be of interest to enough people to make it worthwhile? Possibly I am the only person that spends hours searching the web trying to work out the layout of a stable/coach house complex.

And, um, I'm talking thousands of photos. Seriously. Also a pile of old postcards collected for similar reasons. So I have to find a process that makes it as easy as possible. I don't mind the editing photos and adding comments to them part, that is the fun bit. It's the getting them onto the web in a usable format that puts me off. My original thought was to use a Wiki but there's a learning curve there that I don't want to do through (see original sentence). I'm thinking a blog, properly tagged would do the job but I use LJ for posting photos so I don't know anything about the other photo/blog interfaces. Is there an easy way to upload large batches of photos (minimal clicking, dragging would be good, I can't get away from the upload time :) and turn them in a post? Or is there some other format I should be considering?

ETA I'm thinking Wordpress might do that job, now I just need a username. I don't want to use the one I already have :)

Deloraine

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 10:10:26 GMT

Fifty kilometres along the Bass Highay, almost directly west of Launceston, is Deloraine. Here the highway turns north and heads up to the north west coast. As towns go, it has something of a dual nature. A comment by someone a couple of years ago made me see that many people see the town as artistic/cultural hub sort of town. I see it as redneck-central. I think you can see a bit of both in the photos.

I have to admit, I don't know much about the history of the Deloraine (which might not seem that unusual except um...) other than somewhere back in the dark ages, one of the governors, I'm thinking Sorell, said, "We need more agricultural land. Go west and see what you can find." What they found was a land of brown soil and good rainfall, that is very good for growing potatoes and other vegetables, and poppies it seems. Also dairy cows and fat lambs.

In 1870-71, the first railway line on island was put through from Launceston to Deloraine. The following decade the line was extended up to Devonport, up on the coast. (This bridge is from the 1880s.) Judging by the amount of late Victorian architecture, the town obviously benefited from the railway. There are still a lot of the older boxy Georgian buildings here though.

A few years back, the highway was redone and the towns along this part all by-passed. It doesn't seem to have hurt the town though. The main road always seems to be busy, lots of cars and lots of people, and quite a bit of tourist orientated businesses. At least on one side of the river.

The main road that used to be the highway rans through the town, crosses the river and then runs through the main shopping area.

On this side of the river, the shop haven't been as prosperous.

Just before the river, is the community centre, with the squash courts down the back. I note this because, while our parents were playing squash on the weekends, my sister and I would play in the empty community centre. Mostly the basketball court. I seem to recall there was a small theatre or cinema in here too.

The Meander River. I know I've put up photos of this bit before but I can't find the post :( "Meander Valley" is the name of the local government area and the region in general, from beyond Deloraine back into Launceston. The little building on the side there was a hydro power station (oldest publicly owned extant hydro station in the country? or something like that.) You can see the railway bridge and, just beyond it, the older part of the road bridge.

Across the river now. Baptist Tabernacle, built in 1880 (it says so above the door).

This is the bottom pub, properly the Deloraine Hotel, built in the 1840s but obviously it's been extended over time. I think there are four existing hotels in the town (including one back along the road on the other side of the river that I'm blanking on the name of). There are a lot of former hotels too.

Moving up the road. This bottom end of the main shopping area hasn't changed much over the last couple of decades. The contents have sometimes changed, but others haven't. This was a greengrocers, I think, and a secondhand shop.

The Empire Hotel has gone more upmarket.

That building at the top on the left used to be a hotel, I believe. Now it's shop.

From the roundabout, and there's the same building again, on the right. Harrises (the low building in the middle, with the metal front) has been there forever. It sells clothes and stuff. My grandmother used to go there a lot. The buildings behind are on the other side of the river.

Also from the roundabout, the RSL Club, where birthday parties and things took place.

I mention the roundabout, because after this point, there's been a lot of new development in the last 20-30 years. Most of this is new, or new fronts on older businesses.

This is also newish -- built in front of the supermarket -- but now I think the supermarket has moved.

This is the top pub, now "Ye Olde British Hotel". I guess tourist prefer to go to "Ye Old" hotels. My grandfather spent most of his time here.

Just an interesting point here, the bluestone foundations, which are common in the town and the north of the state generally. Just not usually this noticeable.

A slight detour off the main road, to look at the Catholic church. The Meander Valley had a strong Irish Catholic influence in the early years. More importantly, we used to play in this area a lot as kids, because my grandparents lived just down the road. There's a school adjoining the church (you can see the gable) and it used to have a large sand pit, also just a good area to run around in.

Back to the main road. The building on the left looks a lot like an old hotel to me, but I can't identify it from this angle.

The Folk Museum, I think it still is. Once it was an inn and cottage. The information centre referred to there is back off the road and a very modern building. I haven't been in there. Note the "arty" street decoration.

Masonic Hall and, two up, Oddfellows Hall, now a laundrette.

Same, from the other side.

The road continues on to rejoin the highway, and from there to place north and west. There was a secondhand bookshop in that building at one point. I think it was built as a shop, late Georgian.

And that's Quamby Bluff, which is the local mountain. We climbed it once, sort of. It too much longer than it should have too.

Longford

Thu, 31 Dec 2009 07:26:42 GMT

Just playing with photos from Deloraine. In the meantime, here's some quick ones from Longford, taken in the evening outside Blenheim Inn.

Midlands Highway

Sun, 27 Dec 2009 09:37:50 GMT

This is about the Midlands Highway, that bit of road running from Launceston to Hobart and back again, so I can work out what I have already written about and provide some context for future posts. It has a map, which links to a bigger map. Its not a very fancy map but it's mine. And there are notes on the towns.

<-- a road leading to the location given
(bypass town, not actually on the highway)
Links are to relevant other posts

LAUNCESTON
Breadalbane --->Evandale
Which is best know for the Roundabout, where the Southern Outlet, the road to the airport and Evandale, the back road form Launceston and the road to Perth meet. There used to something like 3 pubs here, once upon a time and now there's just the Woolpack Inn which is a coffee house or private house. It varies. Also, my sister lived here for a little while.

Longford <--- Perth ---> Evandale
Heading north, Perth is "almost home". It's also where you turn off to go to Longford and the North West Coast. It has all the usual things you'd expect a small country town to have (service station, chemist, small supermarket) and people form Evandale sometimes come here because it's closer than the city. It's actually an historic town, with some nice old buildings and some interesting stories but no one seems to bother with them. One of Mum's great-grandfather's had a butcher shop here, and he and his wife and some of their family are buried in one of the cemeteries.

--->Evandale

Powranna
Epping Forest
Cleveland
South of Perth is a long stretch that is the most boring stretch of the highway. It's a long straight stretch of mostly farmland and remnant forest. Sometimes, if you're up at some horrible hour of the morning, you get to see the sun rise behind Ben Lomond. That's almost worth getting up early for. Powranna, I think, was a train station. Epping Forest, I'm not sure if it every was anything other a spot on the map (and the name for the surrounding area). Cleveland was a coaching stop. It has two former inns, one of which is a restaurant/coffe house. There's a little church and cemetery, and some houses.

---> Evandale, via Nile, also Deddington & Clarendon

(Conara)
Conara Junction is where the north-south railway line (I forget the name of it) meets the Fingal line. As far as I know, it developed as a town for the railway workers. My paternal grandfather grew up here.

---> Fingal Valley, East Coast

Campbell Town
In the 1980s, the highway was rebuilt to bypass many of the towns. Heading south, Campbell Town is the last town before the bypassed section. The town has turned this to it's advantage as the place to stop to eat, stretch your legs or go to the toilet. It's always busy.

It's one of the towns Governor Macquarie gave the location for on his trip from Hobart to Launceston before the highway was built. He names the town after his wife, Elizabeth Campbell. Want to guess what the river here is called?

I have a lot of photos from here, and an information brochure I recently picked up that makes the town much more interesting than I thought so I need to put them together.

(Ross)
Ross is where we usually stop. I could say a lot about the town, but I've said most of it before.

(Tunbridge)
I think this used to be a coaching stop. There isn't much here now, except houses. Although the antique shop which closed is now open again, Mum tells me.

(Woodbury) & (Antill Ponds)
These are more location on a map than specific places. Antill Ponds is the closest point to halfway between Hobart and Launceston.

(Oatlands)
Oatlands is usually considered to be the halfway point (although it's something like 84km from Hobart and 117 to Launceston). It makes some claim about having the most sandstone buildings but I forget the details. It also has an old gaol and courthouse and all that stuff, but I've never seen them. And the windmill, of course.

(Jericho)

--> Richmond, via Campania & Colebrook

(Melton Mowbray)
Used to be Cross Marsh. There's an old hotel and probably some other buildings. The Lake Highway runs off here, which takes you to Bothwell and then the Central Highlands.

(Kempton)
Another bypassed town, but not one we stop at so I don't know much about it. I think it was known as Green Ponds once upon a time, but that might be the district rather than the town.

Dysart
Bagdad
Mangalore
These all run together on roads along the edge of the highway so I don't know where each one starts/finishes. A few years back, at the start of a certain war, if you put "Bagdad" into Google, the town's online centre was one of the first matches. They apparently got a lot of supportive emails from people who can't spell.

Broadmarsh<---

Pontville
Brighton
These two towns also run together. I think the Brighton Showgrounds, where we used to do for dog shows, is actually in Pontville. There's some interesting old buildings in Pontville, but we never stop to get photos of them. Brighton is an "old money" town and also a commuter town. There used to be an army camp in the area, that was sold off and I think turned into (I forget the term -- place people come stay). It used for a while to house refugees from one of the former Yugoslavian states (I'm thinking Serbs, but it might have started with a K). Then the government sent them home, which caused a lot of upset.

New Norfolk<--- Bridgewater ---> Eastern Shore
This is "almost to Hobart" point. There are a lot of shops catering to travellers (service stations, takeaways). The Bridge is here, that being the bridge over the Derwent that goes up with a ship wants to go thourgh. There's a train track along the edge of the bridge too.

New Norfolk<--- Granton

Other Northern Surburbs

HOBART

Walk to Gorge

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 06:15:56 GMT

You might remember this or similar photos from back in August.

This is how it looked yesterday:

Looking back towards the city.

Also noticed a lot of other things I hadn't seen before, like these rocks on either side of the path. And I've walked along here, how many times in recent years? A strange walk...

Some parts were familiar. (That's Dog Rock)

Others were from some place I'd never been before. (You are being watched.) Obviously someone had come in during spring and moved the rocks around.

"Do peafowl dust bath?"

"It seems they do."

"I'm just going for a walk with my boys."

The one on the right seems to be a male from the colouring, but he lacks the tail feathers. Immature male?

She kept pecking at his neck and head. He didn't seem to mind, and followed her about.

"Now dear, you obviously didn't brush your feathers this morning and here are all these tourists looking at you."

On the way out :)

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 04:17:36 GMT

I feel like going somewhere today, but it's going to happen for various reason :) So, I shall a virtual/photo trip instead. Once I decided where.

Going...

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 06:44:52 GMT

I posted photos of these cottages back in 2007. I think since then, the developer was quoted in the local paper as saying he wanted to demolish them to build a car park. About a week before I took this photo in September, there was development application notice on them, to be demolished. I don't know what the result was, but I think it's just matter of time either way.

A couple of weeks later, the cover over one window had partly fallen down.

I took these last week.

The silly shrinking story

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 05:50:22 GMT

This is frustrating.

I have a novel I wrote a few years back. Shocking, I know :) It was on the long side so I spent some time getting it down to 120K words, cutting scenes and all that stuff. Eventually I declared it done and did the query agents thing with it. Towards the end of this process, I realised it was actually two stories. Two problems occur, let's find a solution, here's a resolution. So I could cut it two and that would give me room to develop the story world and characters better.

Of course, since finishing it, I'd gone on to write better and more interesting things so I put this other one on the back burner with thoughts I might get back to it one day. Turns out 'one day' was last Thursday.

Once I chopped the "second bit" off, I ended up with a 75K novel. So I started to read through it, looking for places where I could add in a bit. I'm about halfway now and I've managed to reduce the word count by a few hundred. Um.

It's full of "He wondered" and "He could see" and that crap which if why it's shrinking. I don't know about this "making it longer" thing though. Usually when I rewrite, the things naturally grow longer and then I have to go through and jump on them to make them smaller. I've had to deliberately make something longer.

Any hints?

Question

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 09:53:07 GMT

Just as a matter of interest and certainly not any sort of research for any novel that I am definitely not writing:

If you were in a situation where you thought you were in danger of losing your sense of self and you tried recite statements about yourself in an attempt prevent this, what would you say?

Somercotes - the Shed

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 10:44:50 GMT

To finish off from the other day, I had a look through there. It made my head hurt though.

It starts off fairly ordinary with carriages

and wagons, like you see everywhere, if usually in better condition.

It does occur to me that with equipment in this condition it is easier to see the construction details.

Then there's a, um, one of these.

Ah, it's an Austral Oil Engine, which is an engine fuelled by oil. So now you know.

There are lots of photos of them in better condition here and also an easier to read version of the "name plate".

This one is easy: a John Deere tractor. Unusual to see one just sitting there though. I like the wheels.

That's a Roseburn boiler. I know this because it says so on it. What it was used for? This I am not so sure on.

Now this I thought was a seeder (seed drill) on the basis that it looks like one.

But then I took in the whole thing and decided maybe it was some sort of ploughing and seeding thing.

But then I looked at modern seed drills and decided I might have been right the first time.

The next thing though

I have no idea about, other than I don't want to be near it when it's operating. This appears to be looking at it from the side.

The thing on the right I should know but it's fallen from my brain. You put vegetables into it and cut them up. I'm thinking it's root vegetables for animal feed.

The thing on the left, um, one of my companions in this adventure was all over it (descriptionwise, his feet stayed on the ground, but I didn't catch what he said.

This one you can guess as well as I can.

Uh...

A metal thing with lots of wheels?

My brain has had enough at this point, so I brave the stinging nettles and go back to the find the rest of our group.

I think a muse is necessary, for crowd control

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 05:53:37 GMT

To my characters,

Please note the date. It is December. I am sure we agreed that December was for rewriting. Specifically for rewriting the WIP. And when that draft is done, we'd look at this year's Nanonovel and then maybe think about starting something new. Remember?

I don't care if you have a storyline, with a beginning and end and middle with lots of conflict and a romantic sub-plot. I don't care if you have a cool setting. I don't care if you have an interesting female MC. I don't care if both main characters have names*, even surnames. I AM NOT GOING TO PAY YOU ANY ATTENTION. I am also not going to looking for a relevant picture for desktop background.

Go away.

*Anyway, I thought we decided not to use Jack/John variations for MCs?

Wool

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 11:23:39 GMT

For buffysquirrel

The wool display at the Tasmanian Wool Centre at Ross has samples of wool of sheep breeds farmed in Tasmania. Wool is one of those things that is hard to photograph, especially in poor lighting conditions.

Three types of Polwarth wool (and Strong Merino on the end).

Polwarth, 23 microns. Polwarths were developed from a Merino-Lincoln cross. They're useful for meat as well as producing good wool, and they're hardier than Merinos. These are what I think of as "typical sheep".

A variety of breeds, including a cross-bred black on the left.

English Leicester, IIRC one of the breeds that was popular in Australia in the early decades of farming.

Suffolk, the black-faced sheep.

Merino wools

Fine Merino 19 microns. The information panel says "A lightly larger version of the Superfine Merino breed from a Saxon with other blood lines. The fibre diameter mean is of 19 microns and the staple lengths about 77mm. Wool use - Fine cloth, suitable for mens and ladies suitings."

Fine Merino wool

Extra Fine Merino, 16.8 microns. According to the Australian Association of Stud Merino Breeders website, this would be Ultrafine. It's actually a frustrating subject to look up online, when many of the websites about merinos don't mention the superfine or Saxon strains.

Whatever, it is gorgeous wool. Very white. Very soft. Very expensive.

Marbles

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 07:57:35 GMT

I've put this photo up before, it's from Richmond gaol. (So why am I posting it again? Because I can.)

According to me, these were found in the courtyard during an archaeological dig. The gaol was built 1828, the two wings added 1835 and the place closed in 1928, so marbles from each end of that 80 year period? And what are they made of?

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 12:05:56 GMT

Looking over the Deepings Dolls* web site yesterday ~~and I want that one and that one and definitely that one~~ and it clarified a thought I'd been mulling over lately**. It goes something like, for most interests it's usually possible to collect related things, whether it's ornaments or pictures or things decorated with that theme or actual associated objects. Some subjects are better dealt with than others but that just makes finding things for the more obscure subjects more fun. But then there are other subjects for which there really isn't anything but books.

Does it matter?

I think it does, because when my brain is in a particular place, it likes to have things around it associated with that "place". Also, it means you can add it to your present wish list ;)

*Worth a look if you're after a gift that's different, they're clever and often amusing. cassiphone sells them and her mother is one of the artists

**I shan't tell you which figure made me think this though

Somercotes

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 07:36:16 GMT

Last Tuesday we visited Somercotes, an old farming property near Ross.

Now what makes this place worth posting about: it's not a house museum, it's a working farm with an assortment of outbuildings and an old homestead they're trying to maintain. So it has some rather interesting features.

I did completely forget to get a photo of the whole house but there is one here or an older one. If you've ever been down to Hobart, you've probably seen it in the middle of a paddock just after the second turn off to Ross. Unless you are looking at the other side of the road.

The estate was established by Captain Horton back in 1823, which is of course, a Long Time Ago. The focus then was on establishing the farm buildings and the house was constructed later, sometime before 1842.

There's a courtyard at the back, formed by the house, two side wings and a bit of wall.

The building on the right is the dairy and the double roof is for insulation.

Note the bars on top of the wall.

Also more on the back of the house. Ross was very remote at the time the property was established, and the fortifications was intended to keep out bushrangers and aborigines.

Intended anyway. They had a visit in 1843:

From the character of Captain Horton, we judged him to be the most likely gentleman in that locality who was able, however unwilling, to perform an act of benevolence, and upon this supposition we decided on paying him a friendly visit. We soon arrived within sight of the fortress it being the most appropriate name I can find for that gentleman's residence, which was defended by an outer wall with embrasures, and, in fact, all the other appliances of a citadel about to be besieged. We therefore reconnoitred for a short time in order to ascertain if the enemy had any weak points which could be turned to advantage, and at length resolved to take the garrison by assault. Advancing with a firm and determined front, and after some slight skirmishing, we made ourselves masters of the outer works and also succeeded in taking fifteen of the enemy, whom we immediately placed in durance, with the exception of one who conducted us to where the main body was posted.

Our strength being now reduced, having to leave one of our number in charge of prisoners, we were obliged to act with great caution. The troops in the garrison were as yet unconscious of our presence, as we carried the outer works at the bayonet point, but on advancing to the ramparts we were seen by a scout, who quickly retired to give the alarm, but Jones, with great presence of mind and the most undaunted bravery, rushed across the ramparts and knocked the scout down before he could give the alarm, and afterwards charged the enemy. On hearing the fusilade inside, I was of the opinion that the assaulting party had met with a determined resistance and might in all probability be vanquished. Resolving to revenge the death of my comrade, I fiercely commanded the guide to climb the ramparts, being responsible for his safe custody, and speedily bore up for the attack, and, passing over the body of the scout, I found Jones engaged in a hand to hand encounter with the captain of the garrison, who, on seeing a reinforcement coming up at the charge, gave himself up as a prisoner of war and the fortress at once capitulated.

When in possession of the fortress we brought in our prisoners, placing them all together, upon which we were informed by the captain that a female had made her escape during the conflict and would likely return in a few minutes with a fresh body of troops. He also made use of very insulting language not at all becoming the character of a gentleman, and, among other things, observed that he was not afraid of losing his life, if I was. I cautioned him to be silent and to retract his expressions, and with these injunctions he complied at the end of my gun. Had he been armed and in a position to defend himself, I would have put his courage to the test, if all the Police in Ross and Campbell Town were on the premises. Jones now stripped him of his watch, and in my rambles through the fortress I found a young lady in deep mourning, with whom I did not interfere, thinking that as Mrs. Horton had made her escape all further precautions were unnecessary. We then quitted the garrison, taking very little with us, and as no blame could be attributed to any of our party, who all acted with the greatest courage and determination, we resolved at some future time to pay another visit to our friends, when we might have a better opportunity of testing the courage of the officer in command.

From Martin Cash: The Bushranger of Van Diemen's Land in 1843-4: A Personal Narrative of His Exploits in the Bush and His Experiences at Port Arthur and Norfolk Island

The courtyard entrance.

Inside the courtyard that can be seen through the gates. That other side was apparently built as a wall, then a roof and floor were added lately. This older photo shows it without the bushes. More interesting, I think.

The front of the house. Unusual window design. Unusual here meaning "I haven't seem it before". The windows have shutters both inside and out. The inside ones are closed. The external ones don't seem to match the windows.

View from the front of the house: 5000 cherry trees and the ruins of an old school. It seems the trees that once hid the portico were removed to improve the wind flow through the orchard. The Midlands Highway runs across the middle of the photo there. (Two green paddocks separated by a hedge, then the highway, then the ruins and cherries.)

Wooden trim on the verandahs is typical of the early homesteads. During the Victorian-era it became cast iron and then back to wood for Federation-era houses.

Side windows, covered with external shutters. They obviously fit the windows better than those at the front, but this is the side wing not the main house. Sandstone flagstones.

Immediately behind the house, is a cottage. The back part there was built in the 1820s and the front part in (if I remember correctly) the 1850s. Note the door joining them.

The guide made a point of the difference in the quality of the brickwork for each part.

(The camera was being contrary. A large unmoving object, a short distance away and the light is fine, so lets make it blurry.)

This is the Ticket of Leave building, where we had morning tea.

Note different roofing materials.

Our guide explained the a ticket of leave was given for good behaviour "to convicts who had left Port Arthur". We do know what is wrong with that statement, yes?

The back of the building. The bit on this end is obviously a later addition.

From inside that bit, you can see the shingled roof of the older part.

Back to the outside photo, note the fence. There's a lot of this fence about but I haven't seen it before so I have no idea how old it is. And metal confuses me.

There's more of it here. Note the gate. This is other building in the Australian Heritage photo database entry. I'm guessing it was workers' accommodation. Now it's tourist accommodation.

The same with this one. The windows on these cottages are a single frame and hinged on the side.

I missed what this building was used for, but mother referred to it later as the blacksmith's shop

Which seems to be the case :) It was a tiny, dark room crammed full of bits.

That is a colour photo. (Small room with little light, of course the camera works. OK so it's touch out of focus in places but I love the lighting effect.)

A horse-powered pug mill for preparing the clay for brick making.

I saw these at the entrance and they looked out of place with the rest of the fence. Here they are again on the other side of the house. They don't look quite so out of place here, but still oddly shaped gates posts. That's because they weren't built as gate posts. Can you see them in this photo?

I'm thinking these are water pumps, old and new.

Baaaaaaah.

Now this shed turned out to be very interesting, but it can keep until next time.

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 01:08:58 GMT

So I go back to working on my WIP that was put on hold for Nano, but brain keeps thinking about NanoNovel09. So I print that out to read the first bit and brain starts thinking about WIP.

...

I think I shall go Blah! to both of them and write non-fiction instead.

Books, and the irrationality of buying them

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 03:25:55 GMT

I don't tend to buy fiction: new stuff is too expensive, secondhand is full of stuff I don't want to read and I rarely find anything I do. Also, I have been reading very little lately (I start things and don't finish). Also, I have piles of "To Read" books sitting around. I do not need to add to them.

As for non-fiction, I spent too much on this on the weekend. Although they were all books I hadn't seen before and on Topics of Interest so I have to buy them. Also the piles of books on the bookshelf besides my computer chair are threatening to fall on me.

So what do I do today when I walk past the secondhand bookshop with the Australiana/Antiquarian room in the back? Go in and have a look. Bah. Then, when I'm done with the costume shop around the corner that took me up that way, I go into the op shop and check out their books, even though I'd been in there late FRIDAY AFTERNOON.

Gah.

I did find a little book that nephew might like for 50c though, and two jigsaws. I have tottering piles of jigsaws too, but they're Done.

It's not necessarily irrational though. The books I look for are usually OOP and have been for decades or from very small presses/self-published, so they're not necessarily easy to find so it makes sense to check whenever possible. *ignores that I see the same books popping up in different shops/stalls at different times*

Going

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 01:15:58 GMT

I don't know if you remember the Midland Military Meet I posted photos of last year? It was at Easter, but this year the date was changed to... this weekend!

So that is where I shall be all weekend. Plus there's a "Swing Dance" on Saturday night. This requires Costume. Eep.

Anyway, if you're in Tasmania this weekend, and want to look at ~~people running around in strange clothes~~ some military reenacting, historical display and interesting stalls, you know where to go. It's fun.

On male protags, or females realy

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 08:04:13 GMT

A year or two ago, I'd told cassiphone I'd write a post on why I tend to write male protagonists. At least I think it was her. It was so long ago I'm not sure. I put off writing it because, well, when I thought about it, it became complicated.

The simple reason, as I was growing up, I usually found female protags annoying, so why would to write one?

Second reason, when I write it's usually to explore a character in a situation and, well, I'm familiar with female attitudes/approaches/attitudes having put up with them all my life and I want something different when I write :)

The third reason is interesting, and I only noticed it recently. See, most of my stuff is fantasy set in a world based to some degree on some time in the past. That'll be the starting point for my world-building. Now every novel length story I've written like this has a male protag. As of this month, I've written two set in the present and both had a female protag. I also have two set in the future, on other planets. One has a female protag, the other because the nature of the story has male protags. But with both these worlds, there seems to be a genetic problem associated with the Y-chromosome because they both have more more female characters than males among the supporting and minor characters.

So I'm thinking this is a reflection of how I view these cultures. Past settings are usually male-dominated so less opportunities for females characters so I have less. I don't care for the FC who goes out and pretends to be a male. I like my FCs to, at least start off in, roles that appropriate to their society. Then they tend to be more real to me, and therefore more interesting. Whereas in the future, the appropriate roles are broader.

(Having said that, I do have a potential story set in 1830s VDL with a female MC that I'd hoped to do for Nano this year but although I had interesting characters and situation, they wouldn't give me a plot. Until the werewolf turned up last week and brought a plot with him. I can't see me maintaining interest in it for another 11 months though.)

Rose and some other things

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 03:20:26 GMT

Last summer, two dry periods killed off almost all the container plants in my garden, including the rosemary and natives :( Four plants survived, a thyme that I can't remember what is (either T. vulgaris or officinalis), soapwort and my two "old world" roses.

If I'd made a list of which plants would survive a bad dry spell, soapwort and roses would not have been on it. That encouraged me to buy another one, so this spring I added Madame Hardy, which rewarded me with three flowers and more to come. Not bad for a new container grown rose.

This is a very lovely white Damask (introduced 1832), with a nice scent. It's supposed to be reasonably disease resistant too.

This is James Mitchell, a moss rose (so it has lots of tiny thorns along its stems) introduced in 1861. I've had this about four years. It's flowered the last two and had just one bloom each time. But it is a very pretty bloom (just past its best here). It's also disease resistant (no black spot on its lovely green leaves) and obviously quite a hardy plant.

My third rose is Cardinal de Richelieu, I missed getting a photo of it. It has rather untidy flowers but the colour is wonderful so I'll link to someone else's. It's a Gallica hybrid, introduced 1842 I think. It is scented, not strongly but it tends to linger. It seems quite hardy and fairly disease resistant, although mine has a outbreak of black spot on one branch, but it has been damp and I forgot to dust them this spring.

My two tea plants. The one on the right turned brown and died for no apparent reason. The left one is growing happily. The thing behind them is the soapwort, which has taken over its container. The orange nasturtiums are weeds. The more I pull them out, the faster they grow

Not my garden :) That's my mother with her Echium but it was a bit past its peak when I had my camera out there.

While I have your attention...

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 06:23:02 GMT

I keep thinking I should do some actual posts on Launceston, so I'll start by annotating the panorama from previous post

1. Old gas works site, now being Developed
2. Big fancy hotel. It was the International when it was built, then Novotel. Don't know what it is now.
3. Walkway along North Esk River. Walkway is this side, buildings are the other.
4. New Centrelink office designed by someone who obviously went to a lot of trouble to make sure it fitted in with the existing buildings, not.
5. Holy Trinity Church
6. Backwater Creek/Bridge Hotel, now back packers and I'm sure it's not in as desperate need of work being done on it as it appears from the street
7. Clock tower on top of former post office. Erected 1906 to celebrate city's centenary
8. Telecom building, tallest in city
9. Boags Brewery
10. West Launceston, on the hill
11. Monds flour mill
12. Cataract Gorge/South Esk River, in the dip between the hills
13. Trevallyn, along the hill
14. Old Sea Port, where North Esk meets Tamar
15. Invermay Rd, which is the main route through the northern suburbs, and becomes George Town Rd, then meets the East Tamar Highway
16. Entrance to Queen Victoria Museum & Art Gallery, Inveresk on site of former railways workshop

View from history office at museum

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 05:40:26 GMT

Click for larger version :)

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 07:40:09 GMT

Can someone look after Matt for a few days? He's a 24 year old anti-social wretch who can't open his mouth with a string of obscenities coming out. He works as a scavenger (strips out abandoned buildings when the owners aren't paying attention) and gun runner, and likes to drink, consume various illegal substances and sleep around.

He is pissed off that I'm not working on his book, even though I keep saying I'll get to it when I'm done with what I'm doing now. Usually he goes sulk but he's started reciting an ABC (A is for...). Fortunately, he's stuck on E. I'd share what he's got so far, but it's not work safe.

The Unwanted Books

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 06:59:18 GMT

Books in the box of books that we got sick of lugging to the market and home (aka Books No One Wants To Hand Over Money For).

Priestess of the White, by Trudi Canavan
Dragonflight, by Anne McCaffrey
Dragon Quest, by Anne McCaffrey
The White Dragon, by Anne McCaffrey
Star, by Danille Steel
Beauvallet, by Georgette Heyer
The Man Died, by Wole Soyinka
Her Honor, by William J. Coughlin
The Eye of the World, by Robert Jordan
The Prince and the Pauper, by Mark Twain
Smiley's People, by John Le Carre
Homicide My Own, by Anne Argula
Legacy of Love, by Caroline Harvey
Castle Roogna, by Piers Anthony
On A Pale Horse, by Piers Anthony
Catherine, by Maura Seger
Roget's Thesaurus
The Road to Paradise Island, by Victoria Holt
The Singing Tree, by Brain Parvin
To Mother With Love, by Curtiss Ann Matlock, Carole Halston & Linda Shaw
Rose of the Prophet, by Margaret Wies & Tracy Hickman
Growing for Market
Funk & Wagnells Standard Desk Dictionary, by 2 vols
Storm Warden, by Jenny Wurts
First Knight, novelisation
Gate of Ivory, by Robert Holdstock
A Kiss to Dream On, by Stephanie Mittman

(There are more, mostly kids books, inc. a whole stack of babysitter's club younger sister, and romance, in boxes at my sisters.)

While looking for them, I also found a box of books that people may or may not have been willing to pay money for, but they only got to the market once or twice before we stopped going. Including them on the off chance some might want one.

Lion Of Senet, by Jennifer Fallon
The Moon and the Sun, by Vonda McIntyre
Post Captain, by Desolation Island, by Richard Temple & The Catalans, by Patrick O'Brian
Privileged Strangers, by Hugh Rae
Cause of Death, Patricia Cornwell
A Crown of Swords & Lord of Chaos, by Robert Jordan
Island #79
AustraAlien Absurdities
The Mad Ship, by Robin Hobb