Never enough

I wish there was more time in a day. I wish time would hurry up. I am a contradiction. I am ungrateful for the hours I get and loath them, waste them, rush them - haste them. I am eternally grateful for the hours I get, hold them together like precious gems, admire them, savour them.

How to deal with such a juxtaposing position.

Ruddy-Brown

On any other day,
it would have seemed like a normal house.

But today, the lawn stood talk, dandelions dotted an unkempt landscape. The windows were undressed, yawning at the outside world darkly.

The agent, a lanky middle-aged man with dark hair and big teeth smiled at us from the front landing as we walked across the neglected grass.

“Hi guys, how are you today?”

We responded amicably, exchanging greetings and introductions.

“Okay, before you come inside there is something I need to disclose to you.”

Now, when a real estate agent says that, your heart sinks – nothing good can come from disclosure.

“This house is currently vacant and I have to tell you that there was a deceased body found inside. At this stage it is going through the courts, and is actually being investigated as a murder.”

I watch Sop’s face as the prospect of angry, vengeful ghosts haunted his thought processes. Unease likely painted on my dial, the agent could obviously read us both.

“Do you still want to come inside?”

~o0o~

The gray carpet bore an ugly ruddy-brown stain.
Really, it could have been anything...

We suddenly wished we hadn’t gone inside.

Mast

There are rare times when work is the conduit for great, honest pleasure.

I’m not talking about the thrill of closing a big sale; that kind of experience can be inspiring, but it does not fill my heart with joy - only the empty gratification that comes from making money.

Sailing, on the other hand creates landmarks; I can look back through my memories and each sailing expedition is a truly treasured icon.

On Wednesday, one of our suppliers called to invite my boss sailing on the coming Friday. If he couldn’t make it our Account Manager said they have a spot for our company, so I would be invited to go.

Despite being somewhat of a second thought, I was unfazed. My internal dialog when informing my boss of the opportunity went something like this;

“Please, please, please, please, please, please be busy!!”

He wasn’t really, but felt he couldn’t afford the time either. (Either that or he sensed that I was aching to go and did a very lovely thing for me…)

“Do you think you can afford the time?” He question.

No question about it. I’ll make the time.

I nearly danced out of his office clicking my heels together and whooping loudly with joy. I felt like climbing on my desk, doing the happy dance and singing at the top of my voice “I’m going sailing, I’m going sailing, you cannot be there, you cannot be there, (pointing at co-workers) I’m going to looove it, I’m going to loooove it…”

I did however show great restraint and kept my good fortune to myself. Let's be honest, nobody particularly appreciates gloating.

I could write a long passage about the afternoon itself. I’m going however to let a picture do the speaking for me…

Scream VI

Everyone in my household seems to share a pathological fear of a common foe. Regularly I walk in the bathroom and there it is; growling ferociously and leering.

“I dare you!” it proclaims. “I dare you to try and change me! I will bite off your fingers and spread scandalous rumours about your personal hygiene. I’ll stab you in the eye with my plastic spindle. I’ll throw the chemicals that I know are in the cupboard in your face. I’ll…”

But, like every household, there needs to be one brave soul. That intrepid individual, who does not cower, does not avoid the monster that is…

The Empty Toilet Roll.
[Dum dum Daaaaahhhh!]

I am that brave hero -
Fear not, my wonderful family, I will save you!

Book End

Fair to say, Mother Nature knows a little about putting on a show.

Yesterday afternoon she was unabashed, unashamedly flaunting her talent. From my lounge room window I watched as her watercolour bristles dabbled thick forbidden hues.

It was a lovely sunset, beauty unannounced.

Absurd Help Desk Conversations

On subjects other than the weather.

I have a momentary fascination with the way raindrops dance across the window as the car spirits us towards our destination. Leftover childhood ruminations; I cock my head to the side so that the light from the street lamps gets caught in fat drops. A few ambitious beads gather together, gaining momentum and tearing across the pane like a purposeful snake through a poppy field.

Magenta reds and butter-ball yellows streak past, I focus. We are in Chinatown – or at least, at that end of Sydney City and we are circling for parking.

The city seems to have swelled even since the last time I came here. Despite the driving rain, hundreds of pedestrians zigzag, jaywalk and dash across the glistening streets. And we are circling for parking.

Michelle and Michael know their way around but I am lost, astutely aware of my relief at not being the driver, on unfamiliar wet streets, circling and circling for parking.

“We’re never going to get a park on the street.” Sop, impatient when hungry, offers to pay for parking in World Square. Internally, I rejoice. I’d much rather be eating than circling for parking!

~o0o~

A good Korean restaurant is not just bustling, it is a hive of happy eating and warm vibrant smells. Tables are covered in dishes brimming with fiery soups and fragrant meats. There are few couples, many families. Those at the tail end of their meal lean back on their seats, rubbing expanding bellies, looking stuffed and sated.