ducking

I realised I didn't write about going to see The Arrival of the rubber duck on Day One of the Sydney Festival a couple of weeks ago.

If you know me, you know of my penchant for whimsy, and the thought of seeing a five-storey high rubber duck float into Darling Harbour was too good to be missed. Karen had organised a yum cha lunch on that day, so it seemed like a good idea for the Beilzes, the Phillipses, Georgina and me to trundle down to the water together after lunch at Sky Phoenix. Which was, of course, delicious.

It was a scorchingly bright day, but I remembered I had some umbrellas in the car, which was conveniently parked across the road at mum's work (so good having a mum with a parking space in the city!). So at least sitting out in the hot sun wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Though after a couple of hours, we were really just ready for the duck to get in there and didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the acrobats and band, who I'm sure had worked really hard in preparation. I felt sorry for them when, due to a technical hitch, they had to pad out the time by repeating a song and sequence that hadn't been that interesting the first time around.

But there was a rubber duck cannon that fired 3000 ducks into the water! Bubble machines! Duck bill whistles for the kids!

I was impressed by Huff and Puff's restraint, who dutifully obeyed when they were told they weren't to blow on their whistles until they saw the duck, and then they could blow to welcome him in (though Huff couldn't blow into the whistle with enough force to muster a quack anyway...it was pretty cute).

Little A had a rubber duck from home that she played with while she waited, but we scored a few more when the duck collectors started chucking them into the crowd (one for each of the kids and one for G's duck-loving ferret).

Once the giant duck started drifting in through the Pyrmont Bridge, everyone just smiled. So much smiling! I wonder what the kids made of it. I wonder if, at that age, you can still be all, "yeah, it's a giant duck. That's not unusual, is it?", or whether you're completely confused about what's going on.

I love art that plays with what is 'normal' and what 'should be'. There was whimsy enough to satisfy even me, and a lovely day in the outdoors with friends.

Mooncakes

I'm a little early to get mooncakes for the Autumn Moon Festival (apparently falling on 14 September this year) but I'm happy I didn't miss them entirely like I usually do. My family never celebrated this festival, which is why I always forget when mooncakes are 'in season'.
I remember dad giving me a mooncake when I was in my early teens and being stunned by these wonderful morsels, and loving the whimsical name. Mooncakes are sweet and slightly salty at the same time, velvety smooth and meltingly delicious. They're about the size of a fist, but you only eat a little bit at a time (about a quarter), as they are incredibly rich - and not cheap! They can be made with all sorts of fillings, but most common are lotus seed paste or red bean paste. Sometimes they have whole egg yolks in the middle to symbolise the full moon.
You're supposed to have them at celebrations with family and friends (much like celebrating Chinese New Year), but I don't see why you shouldn't have them just because. A lot of Chinese traditions have a vague memory or sense of recognition for me, but I don't really know what they're really all about. Hooray for the internet...
The story I like most about this festival is the legend about the Chinese people organising an uprising against the Mongols in the 14th century by hiding messages inside their mooncakes. Subversive desserts!
I went into the Asian grocery at Maroubra Junction today and saw a table full of red tins and boxes that just triggered a childish delight in me. Some were as expensive as $11 a cake, but I went for a cheaper brand. Even so, as you can see, the packaging is lavish and pretty (and just a bit kitschy!). I just had a taste of one filled with red bean and an egg yolk, and it didn't disappoint.

o i do love a festival

Well not much has happened in the way of writing today (though the day is not yet over and for some reason, I get my best writing done around twilight or late in the night...not sure why that is, just know I need to leave ample time in the day to just mooch around). But mum came up and spent the day with me. It also happened to be Katoomba's Winter Magic Festival, complete with a parade, market stalls, musical acts and people swathed in lots of velvet, corsetry and silly hats. It was a beautiful day and lots of fun - pictorial highlights below.

We wandered up and down the main street for a while. I bought a skein of the most gorgeous hand dyed merino (because I am determined to finish knitting a scarf this winter, damnit); a present that I'll probably give Imogen for Christmas of a pink and purple felt bag made in Nepal to raise money for an orphanage; and mum bought us both some beautiful jewellery. Then, having had enough of the crowds, we went to Lilianfels for our playing-at-being-ladies high tea. I love hanging out with my mum!

this little girl was the first I saw dressed up after mum and I met at the station and she looked so chuffed to be in her princess dress - the kids by and large had the best costumes!

part of a dragon, I think it was made by kids at the primary school and I'm guessing this guy was their teacher (or dragon wrangler)

tilted main street and gorgeous blue sky

part of an inexplicably long chunk of the parade - a whole bunch of Falun Dafa supporters/practitioners. there was a marching band, drummers, dancers and people with quite alarming banners showing Falun Dafa practitioners being tortured in China, along with one that simply said in big letters "Falun Dafa is good" - well, it does come from the land of propaganda, doesn't it? I'm still not sure why it took up so much of the parade, and as it was the last group to march it made it end on kind of a downer.

We couldn't work out where this group was from - a commune or something? All the men had bushy beards and all the women were in shapeless dresses with long, usually braided hair. Wherever they were from, they were very happy-looking and energetically danced to some great folk music.