Late nights, early mornings. 2 am bed, 5 am awake. Most of my adult life has been this constant struggle. A morning person mixed with the musician time. It was easier when I was younger, but it gets more difficult as each year passes. This might be eased with a siesta, but I don't do afternoon snoozing.
My mom celebrated her 40th anniversary as a nurse this weekend. It had been a while since we'd seen the extended family. Holidays, workloads, the lot. You get the idea. The kids were ecstatic as always to see their relatives. I love these small gatherings.
Just being present, really.
It doesn't take more than that.
A week is a long time in politics, and in life.
This time last week, we were in Canada, it was summer, the days were long - and we knew who was running the country back home in Australia.
Over the course of this week, we've spent 24h in transit, a week trying to adjust our internal clocks (finally with some success overnight); and 5 days watching our parliament being brought to a halt by internal struggles, and the party in charge attempting to choose a new leader - finally with some success overnight…
I take the afternoon and head out for a wander with my camera. I've no idea what I'm looking for other than escape. Then my phone pings. Incoming, in every sense of the word. Dad's had another heart attack and has been taken by ambulance to the hospital. I head over there and make my way to the medical receiving unit. My mum and my older brother are there. The absence of my sister is front and centre, a gap in the chainmail, surrounded twisted metal.
My dad's levels are fairly normal, so the doctor asks if there has been any sort of trauma in his life lately. They have adopted a Japanese theory, that a lot of heart conditions are less to do with medical conditions and more to do with stress or trauma. My dad tells them that my sister died just over a month ago. It turns out there is such a thing as broken heart syndrome.
We have exactly one week left in the magical valley of Mizala. Its such an incredible place to spend the summer, and even though we have done this for the last several years, it never gets boring.
Of course, being a business owner means I can't simply "not work" for five weeks. I have admin to keep on top of, even if I'm not physically shooting any commissions.
My favorite time of the day to do this is early in the morning. Poking away at my keyboard after making a coffee, dealing with the dishes whilst watching the most incredible sunrise is an opportunely I'm very grateful for.
I love being the first one to unlock the wreckers and pad out onto the terrace.
I'll miss this place of course; I'll miss that sunrise, I'll miss the noisy cactus in the night and I'll miss wondering just what the heck goes on in that abandoned house where cars occasionally appear, then disappear.
This time next week, we'll be at the airport and my mind will be on the wedding I have two days later in the Lake District.
In the meantime, my friends, keep well & shoot well.
Run, shower, house keeping (laundry), work
Repeating patterns
Faut suivre le rythme, garder la cadence, mélodie estivale, chansons et improvisations pour piano désaccordé, jeux de mains, jeux de cartes, règles en batailles, bleu, jaune, rouge, vert, tapis et tant mieux, tant pis pour toi, je recommence, on dirait que je suis lapin, j'écrit mon nom, du bout du coeur. M.
Our twenty year-old fridge broke down, forcing us to live off coolers for a week. We were obviously due but there’s very little joy to be found in buying a new refrigerator—it’s one of those utilitarian objects that quickly fade into the background of our lives. We’re far from the thrill of a new TV...ok, maybe that’s just me. Of course we were an inch short on height clearance when it was finally delivered: we ended up removing two cupboards, leaving a gaping hole where several mixing bowls used to chill, happily waiting to fulfill their duty.
Needless to say all of this wrecked whatever semblance of schedule we’d manage to figure out. So I spent the weekend alone, working, while the family attended the annual summer gathering at my in-laws. A shame...but those lost days represented time I simply couldn’t spare.
There are obvious signs of impending change in our household this morning: toys, bowls...carpets temporarily removed. Everyone’s back and we’re about to drive to the animals refuge in Ogden again—except this time, Watson is coming home.
Next up: Cats & Dogs - Wild Adventures in Fur...
“After many a trial
We all silent there
It burst as new-arisen,
Throwing a shade to where
Time travelled at that minute.”
The sky is calling. It's time to go.
There's no clearer sign that a trip is ending than the email from your airline saying 'check in online for your flight tomorrow!'
The packing has been going on all day; and at the same time, I'm drawn back to the details of where we are, the particulars of this place, which may or may not be here when I'm next in this country. So my focus is split between putting things in bags, and appreciating my surroundings one last time…
