I dreamt that Scott Morrison was my boss. He kept ringing me but wouldn’t speak when I answered the phone. Just silence. Welcome to my nightmare. Was that the dream before my 3am piss, or after it? I can’t remember. I’ve been having full on dreams lately, more fullon than normal. I always try to remember them when I wake up, but it is like trying to catch water in your hands.
8am. Bruno and I head downstairs. Moments later Sam joins us.
8.30am. I make coffee. Sam feeds Bruno.
9am. I make apple and cinnamon hot cross buns, thanks to David, and more coffee.
9.30am. I message Mark.
I had a chest xray last week because I keep getting pains in my chest, but it is nothing new, as I have had 2 gastroscopies in the last few years and this is just to rule out anything else. And since the doctor hasn’t rung this week, I think I can assume there is nothing wrong. It’s just middle aged man sore chest syndrome, apparently. Did you know there was such a thing? Probably what you had? David has just been staying in his all consuming jabba the hut kind of way. She left yesterday. My next door neighbours have a new puppy and they have gone and left it in its incessant I-don’t-like-this all day barking. And my maidenhair ferns have sooty mould. How are you?
Mark said…
Haha...nicely encapsulated...
I was only thinking about you an hour ago when I was out potting up some more lettuce and using Eskimo's (Eskimo is their Mastiff dog) fur as possum deterring mulch, and wondering how you are, so spooky.
I have my good days and bad days, depending how hard I work, still getting intermittent nerve pains in different parts of my torso, my right arm went numb and tingly for 5 minutes yesterday and that's always a bit disconcerting, but I did spend 3 hours shovelling mulch yesterday at Jane’s place, so a pinched nerve is probably the culprit, I think once you’ve had a major operation when something goes wrong with your body, it’s hard not to worry that something else is going on, but I press on regardless, pushing myself to the limits of my endurance, just to prove to myself that I'm still functioning as a 35 year old, if that takes me out, so be it...
We’re having a normal summer now, sunny days with high humidity and afternoon storms, quite pleasant really, and the garden and lawns are looking quite spectacular, so that's pleasing, especially when I can escape into the air-conditioned house for a break, knowing our solar panels are providing free electricity, so life is ticking along quite nicely.
Looking forward to returning to Hanoi home in March, will be so lovely to be back with the extended family, I’ve really missed the life that we have there.
I said…
I wish you didn’t live so far away
I’d pop over for a visit
Mark said…
Yes, that would be lovely, but there is always da plane da plane....
I said…
Mr. Roarke
The sad queen’s new dog, my neighbours 3 doors down, whined and yapped and complained all morning. Bruno kept stepping out onto the back veranda and looking in the whining direction with a head tilt, or two. That was until about 11am when it stopped. It was as though someone came home around that time. Maybe they did? Do I say something to them, I wonder? Well, they won’t know the dog’s an auditory menace if nobody tells them, I think. But I risk sounding like the complaining neighbour if I do. Nyr! What can you do?
11.30am. I stopped soaking my finger in warm salt water and put betadine on it. Eventually it gets really tiring doing everything one handed, infection, or not.
I started saving Will McBride images. They are just for me to have and enjoy. I’m never going to reproduce them anywhere, so I don’t give a toss about copywrite.
Sam went to the supermarket, he was back at midday with lunch stuff. I am spoilt getting my lunch cooked for me every day. Why would I want to go back to the office?
I pissed my day off away again. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t do that, but the only thing promises are good for is breaking. I so told myself I would be productive and that I would get all those things I had to do, done. Re negotiate the house insurance, but I still have until 7th. Find a roof plumber, oh, who can you trust? Get a quote to repair the car, oh, bored already. Repaint the toilet where that water damage occurred. Get the glass roof panel replaced. Learn a language. Ha ha. Sweep up the back courtyard, now, that at least is slightly therapeutic, put on your headphones with some music.
I was going to write one short story a month, that was my new year’s ish , kind of, if I made new year’s resolutions, resolution, that seemed immanently doable, but no, I haven’t done that. I haven’t written any fiction recently. Just Youtube.
I’ve been collecting old B&W photos of my favourite photographers of the 20th Century. That’s all I have been doing. Grrr. Still, they are nice too.
3.45pm. I go have a shower. It has been a couple of days. The joys of working from home, hey? Track suit pants and greasy hair until I can’t stand myself any longer.
It started to rain. It rained a lot. Summer has slipped away again and we are back to wet weather. I was going to take Bruno for a walk, but it rained.
We ate risotto for dinner. I started it, but Sam finished it. I made some excuse about my infected finger being too sore for all that stirring, which Sam bought. He seemed to have it made quicker than it ever takes me anyway.
It continued to rain.
We watched TaskMasters. Nyr? Ah? Really? Just another vehicle for our so called television celebrities. Yawn. Just another type of reality TV show.
8ish. Sam took Bruno for a walk. Taskmasters whitters on as I collect more antique B&W photographs.
Sam watched Philomena Cunk. I’m not really so keen on her, sometimes she makes me laugh, sometimes she doesn’t so I put in my headphones and watch YouTube. I watched WatchJRGo and his S type Jaguar.
I bought a Racing Cars CD 30th anniversary. I listen to it on YouTube, as I watch some time elapse weight loss journeys of some young guys.
10.45pm. We went to bed.
It was cold like winter suddenly in Melbourne.
Lights out at 11.11pm.
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