...I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Last night I went to our local Living Better Group. We learnt how to make Rosehip Syrup, (so wonderfully delicious) Hawberry Sauce (the advice is to halve the sugar in Hugh's recipe) and Sloe Wine, which was AMAZING. I am going to be a winemaker. First, to find the sloes. There was much discussion of which hidden country lanes to wander down to find all of this free autumn bounty. I can't believe I have discovered this treasure trove of Tassie locals who seem to spend all their spare hours picking sloe berries and making wine in their garages, in between spinning yarn from their Angora rabbits, whipping up jams and jellies and growing all their vegies.
And water divining. After the meeting a couple of us walked the couple of blocks back to where we were parked, and Martin whipped his water divining rods out of his car boot and gave us a demonstration. His grandfather was a water diviner, and apparently his grandson can do it as well. Martin divines water for property owners who want to know where to dig a well or bore. Sure enough, as he walked slowly across the road, the rods crossed, indicating the underground stormwater system. But he could have been crossing them himself, surely?
I had a go. Nothing. Martin says about one in ten people can divine water. I'm not really convinced about water divining, but I'm disappointed anyway. Tanya who runs the Living Better Group, had a go next. The rods crossed at the same spot. But she could have been doing that, right? Subconsciously, after watching Martin? Then another couple from the group, who had been finishing off their drinks, came wandering along. Martin thrust the rods in their hands, one after another, and instructed them to walk across the road, without explanation. Both of them had the rods cross in exactly the same place. They said it felt a little like having strong magnets in their hands, pulling together.
Well, I am amazed, and a little put out. Of the five people standing on that street corner in the dark, I was the only one unable to sense the presence of underground water. I have two things to say.
One: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy..
Two: I am not the person to take with you on a desert expedition.
A need for rhythm, detachment, slowness.
8 hours ago