I dragged K into a "all books five bucks! Madness! Warehouse madness!" sort of place on Sunday and, just one is told never to do, snagged a book just because I liked its cover design. Reading the first few words of the blurb illuminated its general themes... grieving man jumps on old bike, rides to save his soul, etc... sounded orright to me. It wasn't until later that I read the rest of the thing. Among the hyperbolic quotes about stunning debut novels and shining new talents, was the revelation that the protagonist's voice was akin to Forrest Gump's. Let that be a lesson to you when caught up in the frenzy of cheapness.
Frenzy of cheapness was a recurring theme of my two-week break. My lovely Ma popped down to the city one day for some mother-daughter time, most of which we spent trawling op shops. The car boot was full of booty by the end of the day. Selected highlights: telephone table, a clock from someone's 'den' with a cedar frame and red ceramic face, a wee bit of enamel dishery, fabric, shiny things for me to wear... it was a stupendous haul.
Another stupendous hall (I am Queen of Segue, non?) is my house's own - since its makeover. I was permitted entry to my new(ish) housemate's studio and admired all the pretty things within. She showed me some panels she had woven (she is a Goddess of High Craft) and were floating about, somewhat homeless. I requested that we hang 'em at home because they were splendid. Soon after, we got out the hammer drill and mortar bit and ladder, and up they went, accompanied by a suite of bingo cards I had been meaning to hang for eons. And lo, a nifty hall - so long as you ignore the brick dust and dog-hair-dust-bunnies. Note well the hard rubbish hat-stand lurking in the shadows...
But standing (promise, last segue... they're getting a little forced) is the thing I have been unable to do for the past few days, having offended my apparently unstable spine somehow. Imagine my joy at spending the last four days of my holiday lying flat on the floor as my tortured back had its own little hissy fit. Bah. Made ever the more pleasant by two things: firstly I have abandoned vacuuming of the carpet because it's about to be torn out and replaced, and just didn’t see the point, so I was amid a sea of dog hair, grit, and general domestic detritus. Secondly it was BERLOODY STINKING HOT, especially in my uninsulated back room where the telly, friend to the invalid, is located. By Saturday I was grumpy and unpleasant indeed. My back is slowly emerging from its incapacitated state and now I'm just sore rather than sore and doubled over.
Working back through the break now... New Year's Eve was fairly quiet, but pleasantly shared with the dregs of my liquor cabinet and a merry posse. Despite my Scroogey attitude to this season of stupidity, Hexmas was really great. The Curmudgeon's family - previously strangers to me - were warm and friendly and welcoming and gave me the thumbs up. And he and I, through some miracle probably sent to us by Lil' Bebe Jebus himself, managed to share a kitchen without stabbing one another with my lovely set of German knives and produced a feast - he did the white and brown foods, and I did the green and sweet foods. There was a mighty bird, which was roasted, and reduced to carcassness. The wee nieces and nephews had a grouse time (see previous post) and lo, I declareth it a rampaging success.
Other than a dearth of good open cafes this time of year (reference: Worst Breakfast Evah with K on Sunday), life has thusly resumed its regular programming. Speaking of programming, the Australian series of the Fatties returns to the dinky screen shortly and I am cheered to a worrying extent by this fact. Whenever Channel 10 runs a promo ad for it claiming that it's 'coming soon' I am almost screaming "When? OH, but WHEN?" at the telly. I do love to watch them while eating ice cream or similar. I wonder if it will suffer the difficult-second-season-syndrome of most 'reality' shows (better called cruel-ality?) and quickly fall into disfavour. I recall my unfortunate addiction to the first season of The Block, whereas I watched the second season for about 37 minutes before flicking off.
New Year's Resolution: floss my teeth more. Join me. It's the feel-good resolution that doesn't judge.
And finally, just in case you were worried...
Squid is just fine. Shown here hangin' tough with her pal Hoss.
