I have no idea what to say about the arrival of 2022, except that it’s here and none of us have a crystal ball.
We had no plans, but weren’t disappointed, except in the music which accompanied this year’s TV viewing of the Sydney Harbour Fireworks.
Although we spent the night at home, we went over to Pearl Beach in the afternoon, and walked around the rocks. It had been an exceptionally hot day (especially after all the heavy rain we’ve had lately). So, by the time we arrived in the early evening, t was perfect. Happy Days.
However, covid had even made it onto the local rock face.
That might not sound like much, but people don’t write things on our rocks around here as a rule.
So, you could say that it represents a degree of frustration.
Or, perhaps it’s simply a statement of fact!
Of course, it’s probably not “a local” being this time of year, but some interloper from Sydney, although the people of Pearl Beach probably blame the uncouth hoards from “over the hill” (which includes yours truly).
However, if covid truly comes to town, Pearl Beach is prepared. I spotted this:
After dinner, as per usual, we watched the fireworks extravaganza on TV grateful for the extraordinary celebrations going ahead amidst uncertainty and stormy weather. Indeed, listening to the news tonight, I could be excused for thinking life was continuing on business as usual. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.
What did you get up to for New Year’s Eve? I’d love to hear from you!
Last night, we fell victim to a dastardly criminal mastermind, and much to my personal embarrassment and shame, I have to confess it wasn’t the first time either. Rather, it was a repeat offender…a “recidivist” as the convict records would’ve reported in utter disgust. Wonder how many lashings dear Rosie would’ve received back in the day for thieving half the freshly baked coconut cake off the kitchen bench last night? Instead, we just banished her outside. She was lucky she wasn’t dispatched up the hill to the RSPCA, which in this case should be renamed the Royal Society for the Protection of Cruelty to Humans.
However, this raises another curly question…forgiveness.
Should we forgive and forget? Turn the other cheek? Let Rosie steal tonight’s replacement cake? Or, should we inflict the greatest of punishments? Make Rosie an outside dog?
Meanwhile, Rosie is parked right at my feet, which is rather unusual. Should I interpret this as contrition? That she’s actually sorry? Indeed, she’s now licking my ear and there’s no ball in sight. If it were any other dog, and I’d have no doubt. However, Rosie is her own dog. She bows to no master, and refuses to come when called. I find it hard to believe Rosie has developed a conscience overnight, but stranger things have happened.
Meanwhile, we have a teenager at large tonight and dubious conduct might not just be the province of the canines in the house. With all this focus on covid and the thieving canine , have I been overlooking the biggest elephant in the room of all?
Parents of teens on New Year’s Eve, stand on guard!
Tonight, a friend tagged me on a photo of Badde Manors Cafe in Sydney’s Glebe, saying she thought I used to hang out there. I was pretty impressed by her memory, because each of us used to go there in our past lives before our paths crossed with pre-schoolers and babies at playgroup. However, Badde Manors was that sort of place. It left an indelible impression.
Anyone who has frequented Badde Manors has their own story to tell. I first went there at the start of 1989 when my best friend from school and I moved into a two storey terrace house on Abercrombie Street, Chippendale. It was right on the pedestrian crossing on the rat run from Redfern Station into campus, and we could sit up on the balcony in varying stages of sobriety, and prospective and unrequited requited love and call out to friends passing by. It was like living at the very centre of the universe and being surrounded by friends, life and opportunity. Indeed, across the road was the Reasonably Good Cafe where I used to do poetry readings back in the day. It was all there right at our fingertips…as I said, back in the day.
It was our flatmate, Michael, who introduced us to Badde Manors. He was a fair bit older than us, and much more suave, sophisticated and urbane. My friend hailed from the Northern Beaches, and I hailed from the North Shore, which might have had prestige but was sadly lacking in street cred and that’s what mattered more. I was probably doing my usual thing and wearing stripes and Country Road. I wasn’t conservative on the inside, but as we all know, it’s the outside which matters.
Anyway, I was probably awkward, and although I was going into second year and was no longer a “fresher” I still had much to discover in the world, and that included Badde Manors. Michael introduced us one Saturday morning as we went to the markets and Macro Wholefoods.
I can’t even remember what I used to order there. Some kind of chocolate cake no doubt. However, what comes to mind now, is returning to Badde Manors in October 2018 and absorbing the cafe through the lens as it was that day – a frozen time capsule. I haven’t been there since, but get the impression from the web site that it might have been renovated.
Anyway, as I said, a friend tagged me on a photo of Badde Manors Cafe tonight, prompting me to post this photographic tour down memory lane. I thought others might want to join me here.
I especially hope those of you who used to hang out at Badde Manors have enjoyed sharing this trip down memory lane with me. It would be great if you could leave a few stories – a great thing to do on a wet and windy Boxing Day night.
I look forward to hearing from you!’
These are all my own photos copyright Rowena Curtin 2018.
Last year, our Christmas shrank from thirty to six, and this year it was down to four humans, and the three dogs were very much appreciated, even if they were plotting a grand ham heist as I carved it up on the bench.
It wasn’t sad, or disappointing. It was just the sensible thing to do. Moreover, our teenagers have been out and about a lot lately so it was good to spend time with them and have a family meal. There could well be a time round the corner where it could just be down to Geoff and myself home alone for Christmas once the kids move out. Yet, I couldn’t see that happening. I’d be opening up our home.
Our Church cancelled all services this year. They were only having Christmas Eve services anyway, and with covid going through the roof around here, they cancelled Christmas Eve as well and didn’t have a plan B. The call was made afternoon. However, we had dinner with some friends from Church and communion. I ended up doing a bit of a Church hop on Christmas Eve st5arting out at St Mary’s Cathedral (Catholic) to St Andrew’s (Anglican) both in Sydney and then hopping over to Westminster Abbey. None of these services were “me” but they were meaningful and quite beautiful. Indeed, those voices of the young boys sound quite ethereal and potentially rather reminiscent of our heavenly hosts. I don’t know. Perhaps, they could be more of a baritone.
Meanwhile, I headed out with our daughter after dinner driving round to check out the local Christmas lights. You have to love people who make over the top look lacklustre in whatever it is they undertake. We found this house that looked like a one stop carnival. It wasn’t a big house, but there were so many little nooks and crannies packed with dazzling Christmas scenes, a model train layout and even a snow machine. I felt like a born again five year old standing there taking it all it and it really energized my spirits on what was shaping up as a lacklustre Christmas (especially at this point our kitchen table was piled sky-high in Christmas cards, wrapping paper and everyone’s laziness.)
What most of you would probably notice about our Christmas, however, was the scorching heat. It was 30 degrees celsius by lunchtime and I’m sure you could’ve fried an egg out there. A few friends are looking a bit red and fried in photos today. We didn’t get to the beach, even though it’s just down the road. I was too busy with cleaning up the house, cooking and cleaning up and just wanted to fall into a chair and relax. Ditto for today. My dad’s always been one to lock the doors and bar the windows on Boxing Day.
Have you ever considered how much time, effort and money goes into Christmas? As parents, it can feel rather overwhelmed not to mention crippling especially when the kids are younger and you’re having to provide two sets of presents. Have you even wondered why? After all, Jesus was born in a very humble manger in Bethlehem and anything but Westminster Abbey. Scrooge gets a bit of bad press about being all bah humbug about Christmas, but have we one too much the other way spending buckets of money, especially when so many don’t even believe in the reason for the season?
However, quite aside from honouring Christ’s birth, Christmas Day provides that day once a year for families to draw together and reconnect- especially those big extended families of aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and multiple generations. That’s our usual Christmas and I love it. Would never trade it in, but at the same time, I am grateful that we’ve had a few Christmases at home with the kids. It would never have happened without covid. It also made me much more appreciative of all the work my aunt and family do each year as hosts.
What did you get up to for Christmas? I’d love to hear from you.
This weekend, I’m afraid I can only offer you some hypothetical pavlova. I was meant to make a pavlova for my son to take to Venturers tomorrow night and I forgot. Well, I thinking I’d probably make it tomorrow anyway, but I had actually forgotten about it. Or, perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Last week was so incredibly stressful, that I’ve gone splat over the weekend and not done much at all except recover.
Last Friday night was the first of three dance concerts our daughter will be performing in over ten days. I know that sounds a bit insane. However, due to the never-ending four month Sydney lockdown, production kept getting deferred until the first performance last Friday night and a second performance coming up on Wednesday night. The annual dance concert will be held on Sunday night. Then, we will have this event called Christmas, which is actually very important to me both spiritually and in terms of catching up with my huge extended family. However, every year it just seems to get more exhausting with me wondering are we actually going to get there? Or, are be going to break down somewhere in between?
At least, we’re not hosting this year and aren’t madly shifting furniture, ripping up carpet, laying down floorboards and painting the room. Yes, we did get the order wrong and had to be mighty careful with the painting. However, we learned for next time, which is why the next room hasn’t been touched.
Last week, I think I mentioned that the weather’s been really lousy and we’ve had a lot of rain over the last couple of weeks. Well, we actually had a couple of days of brilliant sunshine and yours truly actually made it done to the beach and went for a swim. I also just sat on the beach and soaked up the sunshine and almost felt a wave of electricity flow through me. It was bliss! We only live about a ten minute walk from the beach, but I don’t get there as often as I should.
While sharing photos of my daughter and I, I thought I’d post this one taken of us in our new pyjamas at Peter Alexander. They were having a Black Friday saleich extended to Monday. I also bought a magical pair of red sequin Dorothy slippers, although instead of tapping them together and going home, I want to travel overseas. I’d love to be a free spirit like that at least in theory. However, having lived in the same house for twenty years now, that would seem to suggest I like bedrock stability instead.
Well, I think that’s all I’m going to share for now. It’s really late.
So, how has your week been? I’d love to hear from you in comments!
This week, it feels like I’m needing some kind of snorkel or perhaps a kayak to connect with you through the heavy rain which is besieging us at the moment. I’m not complaining yet, because I’m probably so used to being in lockdown that being indoors due to the rain doesn’t feel like such a big imposition as it used to. I am also older, and finding the comforts of home much more alluring than I used to.
How has your week been?
I hope it’s gone well!
Yesterday, was my husband Geoff’s birthday. We had a very low-key day, after a stressful week and ordered Indian takeaway, rather than braving the crowds and potential covid risk at the restaurant. That, however, meant clearing the kitchen table for us to sit down. OMG!!! That was an effort. I don’t know how things are with your kitchen table. However, ours seems to fill up with all sorts of detritus, which on a good day might be stacked carefully into neat piles in descending height order. However, on an average day, stuff just gets pushed up the other end, and the sedimentary layers buckle to form unstable mountains and inevitable avalanches onto the kitchen floor below. Just to compound the chaos, our cleaner had to stop coming because she hasn’t been vaccinated and they couldn’t provide a replacement. That certainly hasn’t helped.
Anyway, by the time the takeaway arrived, the table was clear, cloth in place, and table set. What more could he ask for? Presents, of course. Well, I had them sorted too after wrestling with the crappy wrapping paper which wouldn’t allow the sticky tape to stick and so I had to use the stapler in the end. You can just imagine how that turned out. Indeed, it reminds me of when I managed to end up sideways on zoom during the week when the dog pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. Boy, was that humbling. I was asked to mute myself while we went in to watch the video and I had to apologise. Can’t find the mute when I’m stuck sideways like this and the host kindly muted me instead. Welcome to my chaos.
In addition to the chaos, the last couple of weeks have been incredibly difficult for some people close to me, and I absorbed their tragedy very personally. Indeed, the shock hit my physical body like being rammed by a truck. Since then, a different friend has has a micro-stroke or what is called a TIA, another friend has a tumour in his colon, and another friend who had gone off the grid has resurfaced which brought me absolute joy, although her harrowing tale was very distressing. My husband half-joked to stop answering the phone. I didn’t but Friday was a busy day, and I’m not in the psychology business or a doctor. I’m just garden variety me.
I don’t feel that I’m of an age where your friends start dropping like flies, and I certainly recall my grandparents telling me that all their friends had died, or they were going to funerals all the time, and the reality of that didn’t really sink in back then. However, there is that progression through life…children’s birthday parties, 18ths, 21st’s, weddings, births of kids, for some divorce, and as the zero birthdays start to add up, it’s inevitable that we’ll end up at funerals…the last stop on life’s journey. Not that I intended to get all morbid on you. After all, my friends are doing well. One is recovering and the other off to surgery so nothing too worrying there at this stage. It’s just that all of this has made me think.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to keep myself on the straight and narrow. That’s involved trying to ensure I get regular exercise, and extricate myself from my writing/research to get outside and absorb the expansive coastal landscape right on my doorstep. I went on a walk to the Mt Ettamalong Lookout. The flannel flowers were still out and waving their pretty faces in the wind while I was there. There was quite a blanket of them, and they just looked magnificent. I continued on to the lookouts, which I found so healing after recent events. I don’t know what it is about looking out over a steep cliff and across the water at an expansive view, but it was absolutely breathtaking.
I also went on another walk at the Mt Penang Gardens up the hill at Kariong. The garden here have quite a mix of native and overseas plants, and so much to scintillate the camera lens (or my phone in this instance). I didn’t come across too many labels identifying the various flowers and so you’ll just have to enjoy their visual appeal without knowing exactly what they are.
Since I missed last week, I’ll also mention that Geoff and I went out for dinner at nearby Terrigal Beach last weekend, while we were taxiing our daughter and her friends around.
Anyway, that about sums things up. How has your week been? I look forward to hearing from you.
Tonight I’m celebrating a journey of epic proportions. For the first time in four months, we actually drove over the Hawkesbury River Bridge and into Sydney to visit my parents and brother. The last time we came out of lockdown and we saw them again, I was so excited and I was soaring. It reminded me of going up to see my grandparents in Queensland and I’d almost be leaping out of my skin waiting to see them. I was much calmer this time. I hadn’t made a cake or anything (which is rather exceptional), and I’ve been trying to pace myself a bit. All these rushes of excitement can be quite exhausting and I’m just trying to remain on more of an even keel.
Usually, I’d take my violin down with me and mum would accompany me on the piano. However, I haven’t practiced much in the last six to 12 months so there wasn’t even a quandary about taking that. Instead, I sang long to a couple of Beatles songs…Michelle, Hey Jude, Yellow Submarine as well as Are You Lonesome Tonight? My voice was very rusty, and I’ve been thinking my lung situation had destroyed it. However, it might just be that my register has changed with age. So, I might be doing a bit more singing in the shower. I’ve also made a note to self to get back into practicing my violin and piano. I’m better focusing on one thing but that’s not a balanced life, and now that we’re out of lockdown to some extent, the juggling act has returned.
Tomorrow, our daughter goes back to school. It’s going to be a rude shock, as she was ill and missed a lot of school before lockdown and she’s been doing some schoolwork online from home for the last four months which has included going to the beach. A number of bikinis have arrived in the mail along with sunglasses, and I guess the teachers know what they’re up against and hopefully she can catch up.
As yet, I still haven’t made it to the hairdressers yet. That’s coming up for my daughter and I on Thursday. I’m looking forward to it. meanwhile, she had eyelash extensions fitted during the week. This was something totally out of the realms of my experience as I barely even wear lipstick these days (especially being at home in my PJs during lockdown) . However, now she’s working at McDonalds, she can afford such essential services, and I was merely roped in for taxi duties. Of course, she didn’t tell me it was going to take two hours until were about to leave and she suggested I might need a book!
So, while she was there, I hid out round the corner at the Mt Penang Parklands finishing off my book (Julia Baird’s Phosphorescence: On awe, wonder and things that sustain you when the world goes dark.) I also walked around photographing the wildflowers. In typical Rowie fashion, I managed to get lost and struggled to find my way back to the entrance. However, I was somewhat relieved to read that the architect of these 56 hectare gardens liked to think of it having a hide and seek element to it. However, I don’t think seeking my self was quite what he had in mind!
Meanwhile, my research projects are progressing. As you may recall, I’ve been helping my friend research his father’s experiences as a Polish bomber pilot in WWII. It’s a slow process exacerbated by the language difficulties, but we’re making headway. It’s also turned out that others have been posting about his dad and a few of his close mates and that’s really added so much to his story. There are two Christmas greetings his follow pilot Alojzy Dreja sent to English families they’d met in December 1940 and both of these speak about the suffering of fellow Poles imprisoned by the Germans and the Russians. They give a good feeling of what it was to be in exile, but grateful in a sense to at least be free. meanwhile, on the Ethel Turner front, I am currently reading Little Mother Meg, which is the third book of the Woolcot series which includes her most famous work: Seven Little Australians. I haven’t written a post over at Tea With Ethel Turner for a week now. So, that’s a priority. It’s hard to be in so many places at once, especially now that lockdown in easing and we’re getting busier.
BTW I thought you might enjoy this little quote from: Little Mother Meg. The Woolcot’s are holding a dance at their home, which is known colloquially as “Misrule” and Meg’s teenaged brother Bunty who is a bit awkward is a bit unsure about interacting with the girls:
“but what in the world can I talk about to a girl I’ve only just met? You just say,`May I have this dance?’ and she says, `Yes’- if she doesn’t say no, thinking I look the right cut to crush her feet to jellies – and then what on earth is there left to say?”
Meg walks Bunty through the sorts of small talk he can undertake with the girl and then she offers him some very sage advice:
“But do your best to forget all about yourself, and try to give the girl as nice a time as you can.”
I really appreciated that, because when you’re nervous and so self-conscious, you’re not thinking so much about the other person. Indeed, being more thoughtful about them, would definitely give you an advantage.
By the way, I also remember being incredibly nervous and self-conscious about dating when I was at school. Ouch! It could be painful, awkward and so embarrassing.
Lastly, Geoff and I went on an unexpectedly short visit to near by Hardy’s Bay to watch the sunset after Mr 17 burnt his foot on hot coals from his fire pit. There was a quick trip to hospital just to be sure, but he was given the okay and I’m sure that must’ve been the fatest turnaround time on record there. He was in and out in about 30 minutes.
Anyway, that’s about it for the last week.
I hope you’re all keeping well, and had a good week.
Late yesterday afternoon, Geoff and I made a hasty getaway to fit in a sunset walk over at Hardy’s Bay, about a 15 minutes drive away. Our kids are now 17 and 15 years old and hardly at that really young stage where we can’t get away without a minder. However, that doesn’t mean we’re not still attached to the leash. We are always only a phone call away.
As those of you who have lived through the teenage years can no doubt attest, you’re still not absolved of your responsibilities as a parent. Indeed, in some ways things can even ramp up. Even if the law doesn’t require you to provide constant supervision and your teens probably couldn’t think of anything worse, you’re still on a leash. Moreover, when they’re small you can delegate much of your supervision responsibilities to daycare, after-school care and grandparents. The former expire once your children start high school, and grandparents while willing are more than likely to be less mobile than they were once upon a time. Indeed, they could well appreciate a helping hand from them.
When it comes to Mum and Dad, they might not want to know or talk to you much of the time, but when trouble strikes, they certainly know how to find you. Overall, you want that. I want that. The alternatives can often be undesirable, and at worse, fatal. You don’t want teenagers in trouble trying to nut out complex situations for themselves, especially when they’re under the influence of drugs, alcohol, peer pressure, fear of being found out and the list goes on. It’s usual for me to pick my daughter and her friend up at odd hours. I never complain. Never lecture. Well, maybe sometimes. I do ask questions. Try to ensure everyone’s okay. I don’t portray myself as the cool mum, but I want them to know I care and I’d rather be the biggest dag and very uncool, and have them feel loved and valued.
However, at the same time, we parents also need a break, a breather. We need to be able to walk out the front door and have a bit of down time. Of course, going on a date with my husband would be nice (especially after 4 months in lockdown). However, as I said, I’d much rather come home if there’s a problem. I’d much rather be there for our teens in the event of an emergency. I really do. You do believe me, don’t you?
Last night, Geoff and I headed over to Hardy’s Bay for a walk and to watch the sunset. However, we’d just managed to set foot onto the jetty and I’d managed to take a couple of photos, when the phone rang. I’d initially thought it was Geoff’s work. He’s in IT and on call. That could mean a trip into Sydney. However, this time it wasn’t work. It was Mr 17. He had a fire pit running at home. It all seemed pretty safe and he’s a scout, and Geoff made sure he had he hose set up beside him. What else could go wrong? Well, it turned out some burning coals had jumped out and he’d stepped on them. Of course, he was barefoot. That’s not because he wasn’t advised to put shoes . Of course, he knew better and living right near the beach, we’re pretty casual with out footwear and I must admit to going barefoot a bit myself, especially when I was younger. I don’t think you’ll ever catch Geoff without shoes on, although I just peered over to check and sure enough…bare feet. However, his shoes are right there beside him and I think he puts them on just to walk around the house. You know, it’s a minefield around here.
Anyway, Mr 17 had Googled his burn and rated it a second degree burn, and there were blisters. That meant a precautionary trip to hospital. Of course, you can just imagine the moans and the “here we go again”. It’s only been a few months since we were back there with our daughter. Surely, we don’t have to run up frequent flyer points going there? Geoff was all set to go and looked at me and said: “You’re not coming?” Well, I felt a bit of a piker. However, I needed to drive our daughter to dance and I’m immuno-repressed and it’s best for me to stay away. Of course, it would’ve been better if we could all have stayed away, but better to be safe than sorry. Geoff and Mr 17 were on their way. I expected to see them in upwards of 3 hours. It no longer amazes me that an emergency can proceed at a snail’s pace.
However, miracles do happen. Not only did they have an express trip through emergency. His foot was fine. Dad’s bandage and the betadine ointment would do the trick. By the time Geoff returned from parking the car, he was through.
We had intended to get out tonight, but time ran away from us. I had a very relaxing time reading out at the new table out the front, and then we had lunch together out there as well…a home date.
How do you find parenting your older children? Any stories to share? I’d love to hear from you.
It’s been quite awhile since you’ve heard a peep let alone a loud beep from Mum’s Taxi (AKA the Tutu Taxi). Being in lockdown for the last almost three months and throughout the last 18 months, I’ve literally been able to hang up my keys, stay in my pyjamas and write to my heart’s content. As blissful as that might sound for any writer, writing in lockdown is quite different to being a poet ensconced in your ivory tower. So, it was hardly no prison cell and I was allowed outside for exercise and could go walking along the beach, bushwalking or visit my friend in his social bubble. However, it’s not the same when park benches are covered in red tape because you’re not allowed to sit down, everyone’s wearing masks unless they’re exercising, and you have to QR code to enterjust about anywhere. So, it was with a mixture of jubilation, trepidation and continued isolation, that the people of Greater Sydney welcomed Freedom Day a few weeks ago.
Anyway, on Tuesday our daughter told me I was driving her up to get eyelash extensions. She paid for them. I wasn’t going to spend out money on that. I’ve never been a fan of fake eyelashes. However, she wears them for ballet concerts, competitions etc and so I guess once you’ve crossed that bridge, it makes more sense.
However, what she didn’t tell me was how long it was going to take. Now, I should’ve been prepared to hang round for eternity. After all, isn’t that what parents do for their kids? Wait?!! I’m not into all this cosmetic beauty stuff and how it all works. However, I did take a book, my journal and regretted not taking my SLR and just having the camera on my phone.
I started walking around looking for a park bench in the shade to read my book. By the way, I was reading Julia Baird’s: Phosphorescence: On awe, wonder and things that sustain you when the world goes dark. It’s an absolutely brilliant book, and what I’d describe as a “slow read”. I wanted to savour and enjoy almost each and every word. So, it’s taken me a very long time to finish it. Indeed, I started reading it in September last year. Honestly I thought it had been a year or even three. Here’s one great quote from the book:
“Life is tempestuous and life is precious, and recognising that those two things are twinned is part of the secret of the truly phosphorescent.”
There wasn’t much left to read, and I seemed to finish it off in about an hour. Of course, there was that great sense of regret you have when you finish a book you love and wave goodbye to your new best friend. Although I immediately decided I was going to start back at the beginning again. I really want to etch this book into my psyche and remember it all. It’s filled with stories and quotes from numerous thinkers and poets and it’s so very me. It’s like exploring a fascinating and exhilarating world, and I have also made a note to self to head out on a night kayak run with my husband and experience the Phosphorescence first hand for myself.
After finishing my book, I walked around the gardens regretting I hadn’t bought my digital SLR. However, the camera on my phone didn’t do too bad a job. Yet at the same time, I wondering whether photographing wildflowers in a man-made garden really counted, especially after going on some magnificent bushwalks and photographing the wildflowers actually in situ and in the wild. Isn’t it just like photographing lions in the zoo rather than heading off to Africa? The photos still look good. Indeed, they probably look a lot better, but they’re simply not the same.
Anyway, while I was there reading my book, I glanced up and noticed what appeared to be a class or two of young kids running down a steep, small grassy hill. They were having an absolute ball, and there is something so liberating about running fast down a grassy hill as a young child which almost feels like flying and you’re about to take off. Apparently, when I told friend about this my face was so animated that he asked me what childhood memories it brought back. There wasn’t anything specific and I can’t remember a lot of hills, but the exhilaration is still with me and perhaps I should sneak in there after dark and let myself go.
Reading my book and watching all those kids running must’ve done my head in, because yours truly who has been to this park a couple of times before, got lost and couldn’t find the exit. Indeed, I found myself stuck inside a maze. This is what happens when you’re exploring man-made garden instead of the bush. The bush is simple. You go in. You come out. Well, it is where I’ve been going bushwalking but these are hardly complicated hikes. Of course, I blame lockdown for this. So many everyday kills have been neglected and have rusted away. Indeed, I’m sure four months of solid repetitive research and writing at home has literally rewired my brain and done all sorts to my neuropathways. Indeed, while being so focused on a lockdown project so I’d have something to show for all that time might actually prove a mixed blessing.
Anyway, two hours later, my phone rang and I was summonsed to pick her up. We were going to go for a bushwalk together, however, it was now raining and so we raided a local bakery and had lunch in the car looking out onto the beach.
And yes, the eyelashes certainly looked spectacular. Not completely ridiculous either, but not the sort of thing a hibernating bear requires. I’m actually looking forward to going to the hairdresser next week, and guess who is coming with me…
Have you been on any good walks recently or read any book books? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.