Ah time; where have you gone?
It's been a goodly while between postings, so a hearty thank you to the four dear people who have persisted, like kind parents, checking in each day. If you are not already Australians of the Year, prime ministers or MasterChef finalists you deserve to be.
What has the space of two months brought? Many a goodly thing:
1. I have started a collection of miniature driftwood. This piece is currently my favourite:
Sorry about the blurriness at the centre of the photo; I think my camera has glaucoma?
Anyway, this delightful piece of driftwood is sitting on the kitchen windowsill. I have chosen to present it, in this installation, next to that fine example of twentieth century technology, the 'rubber plug', for scale.
There are other pieces of my miniature driftwood collection rattling around the glove box, and others still in the cupboard under the fish tank. I haven't so much told Mr Kettle about my new collection yet as not told him, but I'm sure when he does finally realise all the shitty bits of wood around the place are *precious* to me he'll be stoked.
2. I have survived my histrionics about having the 'flu.
3. I have partaken of the berry of the mulberry bush (which isn't a euphemism for anything; I actually tried mulberries for the first time).
4. I made it all the way through Wuthering Heights again without wanting to kill myself.
5. I have discovered The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain (but not, unfortunately, purchased my own ukulele yet).
6. I have spent a few giddy moments wondering anew why my letterbox is shorter than a standard letter.
7. I have listened to some very, very good music and wondered anew (again) why I bought tickets to see Holly Throsby this Friday night.
8. I decided I wanted to write a libretto for a rock opera then woke up the next morning with a hangover and realised it was just a hideous drunken dream.
9. I have spent innumerable happy hours imagining what the builders responsible for the renovations in the three houses across the street can do with their freakin' sanders and grinders.
10. I have learnt that 'landfall' does not mean the moment your boat or space ships lands on Terra firma (which I have been espousing energetically) but the moment a storm reaches the shore. Who knew? Not me. But now I do.
But I go on. Tell me, what's been happening with you?