7.20am. Bruno was ready to head out the back for a wee, so when I opened the bedroom door, he took off down the stairs. It was light by this stage. It was cold.
We sat on the couch together, once he'd come back in from his wee.
I read the news, such as it is, sucked into the world psycho drama. I somehow got onto Harrison Ford – the new Indiana Jones movie is out, I can’t imagine what an 80 hero would get up to – and I ended up looking at his children and his houses. Shake the head.
8.10am. Sam was up.
8.20am. I made coffee and Vegemite toast. I ate my supermarket bread, I can really taste that it is insubstantial compared to the bakery bread.
I read the news, somehow got onto Harrison Ford and ended up looking at his children and his houses. Shake the head.
8.10am. Sam was up.
8.20am. I made coffee and Vegemite toast.
I watch YouTube, TheLateBrakeShow and the garage in Wales with the 911SC and the yellow TR6. And then the episode with the blue 2CV.
The morning is slipping away and I am doing nothing. Another day off slips through my fingers, so it would seem. If I was made to lie on a couch, surely The Great Pumpkin would have given me padding. Oh look, he did. 😊
10am. I piss around in the garden for a bit. At least I’m not staring at a screen. I start trimming the creeper on the side wall of the garden. When I see it needs trimming where the side wall morphs into the house wall, which will involve me climbing up on the lounge room roof to reach it, I decide it is time to head back inside again.
10.30am. I have a shower and get ready to take Bruno for a walk.
11am. I hit the update on my phone before I take Bruno for a walk, that seems to take an inordinate amount of time, but in reality, it takes 15 minutes, it’s just that I want to get going on the walk, as the walk takes an hour and I like to be back before 12-12.30pm lunch.
11.21am. I take Bruno for a walk.
Charlie is talking to Sam in the study as we leave. He is telling Sam he won’t be here for lunch, and possibly dinner.
Bruno and I are out on the footpath and Sam calls us back.
I suspect he calls us back because Charlie isn’t home for meals, and the cupboard is bare, we can go out for lunch. (Sam cooks all of Charlie’s meals too, I’m sure it is because he wants to be seen as a good uncle) Sam suggests we go to Brunswick Street for lunch (now that he doesn’t have to cook for Charlie).
“Okay,” I say.
“Unclip Bruno and get comfortable.”
It is too early for lunch, and Sam isn’t ready anyway. He goes and has a shower. I sit back down. I get my laptop out again because, you know, it is disconcerting when you have you plans changed from under your feet, so to speak.
11.45am. The sun comes out.
11.55am. Sam is done with his shower.
“Come on, let’s go,” he says. “It is going to rain. Fuck. Fuck,” he says. “We are doomed! Doomed! Doomed!” (I've told you before how Sam is Mr Weatherman and he takes the weather very seriously. When he says we are doomed, he doesn't mean our lives are in danger, just our plans. Yes, I know, it is a little dramatic, but what can you do?)
“There is the voice of optimism,” I say.
“The forecast says rain late morning.”
Midday. We head to Brunswick Street. I suggest Mexican, just so Bruno gets a longer walk and we don’t need to walk him again later. I’m all for multitasking. Not that I’m not good about it. Ha ha. Head out to lunch, walk the dog, everything done. Lovely.
It starts to spit with rain by the time we get to the first street. So, we decide to have Ramen in Smith Street, however, by the time we get down to Smith Street it starts to rain heavier. So, Bruno and I head along Smith Street to home. Sam buys food from Coles for lunch.
Bruno and I buy bread at the bakery. I bought bread in the supermarket wholemeal sough dough, but when I eat two slices for breakfast I am really hungry by lunch time. When I eat two slices of bread from the bakery, I am not really hungry by the time lunch time comes around.
It rains heavier quite briefly, but it had stopped by the time Bruno and I got home.
12.30pm. Sam is back. He has pies and instant noodles. We have instant noodles for lunch.
I watch Coldwarmotors, and the one about his friends P5 Rover and the other cars in his collection.
1.15pm. The sun is out.
1.40pm. Bruno and I attempt walk number 3.
The sun is shining. It is warm on my back when it hits my back.
We cross to the south side of Gertrude Street where the sun is shining.
People are so harumphy lately, when Bruno, or Bruno’s lead, blocks their pathway, they act, some of them act, more and more of them act like Bruno has no rights to take up space on the footpath. I always say I’m sorry, but I get harumphs, and eye rolls, and loud exhales so much so, that I’m thinking I am simply going to respond in future with a shrug and a vague look, the equivalent of oh what-can-you-do? Let them work out what they are going to do about the problem.
Fortunately, it is just a few, but they are painful. Today, I had one guy who kind of did a shoe shuffle, then spread his arms out wide on either side raising his shoulders up and kind of accentuating a double take as he stared down at Bruno, like Bruno could give a shit, with looks that could kill, waiting for me to do something, exhaling like a hippopotamus about to charge its quarry. All he needed to do was stamp his foot a few times.
And yeah sure, I get it, human beings feel superior to every other creature on the planet – much to our imminent demise – and I am really sorry that my innocent, puppy-eyed dog has dared to step into your all important way, but really, are you seriously rushing to save the planet and you only have 5 seconds in which to save the world, or what is your story buddy?
1.53pm. We meet a cream Lab as we walk down Brunswick Street in the sun. He and Bruno do major bum sniffing and dick licking antics. The lovely lady owner of the Lab and I chuckle in a slightly embarrassed way as the two dogs have absolutely no reservations about going 'there.' We pull the two of them apart eventually with a good hearted blush.
The sun is shining beautifully.
2.09pm. Bruno and I stop at Le Gourmet cakes for a long Mac and a raspberry muffin.
The cute son isn’t working today. Mum brings me my coffee and, let’s face it, cake. Muffin is just an acceptable way to say cake, isn't it.
2.21pm. Some chick stands behind me yapping on her mobile phone momentarily. Someone was in hospital. They’ve had a procedure. Did they get everything they needed? Did they need her to bring anything in. Still annoying. I am so tempted to turn around and say, “You know that device you have in your hand, it has this really natty feature where you can talk into it absolutely anywhere?” But, of course, I don't.
But, soon she is gone and peace is returned to the village.
I proof read some of my writing that I saved to notes on my phone before we left. I drink my coffee and eat my muffin.
Bruno lies out on the footpath in his super dog pose and practically everyone who walks past is enchanted by him. Just his eyes moving, watching the passing parade.
2.35pm. We start walking again in the sun.
Brunswick Street > Johnston Street.
2.45pm. We meet a very excited Samoyed cnr [name of my] Street and Johnston Street. “Some dogs think he is being aggressive.”
“Bruno is really chilled, he won’t think that.”
“Some dogs are intimidated.”
“Bruno won’t be intimidated.”
“Oh, good,” says the girl. Then the Samoyed is so excited he jumps on top of Bruno, literally. I pull Bruno away and we turn and head up [name of my] Street.
Bruno looks at me as though he is saying, “Seriously? Jumped on me.”
“I know,” I say.
And a cute, cubby, baby-faced wog boy (he's at least 18, just to be clear – and ‘wog boy’ is very much a term of endearment in gay world) in tight black track pants and a white hoodie with the hood pulled up on his head comes towards us. He looks as though he is looking for some place in particular.
2.54pm. cnr [name of my] & Moor Streets the sun shines like warm honey.
3.02pm. We’re home.
I write my blog. I try to make it interesting. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t?
I Watched Where Love Has Gone, the first half anyway. What better way to spend an afternoon of a rainy day than with a bit of Bette Davis, I ask you? But the misery hour comes on before Bette is done with dominating her family, and we all know how Sam is a stickler for the misery hour. Me, I can take it, or leave it.
We ate KFC. It was delivered by Salim. It was delivered latish, it was coldish. It was shit. The second time we’ve had KFC in as many weeks which is unheard of really.
We watch Gardening Australia. It is good for the soul, Tim tells me.
Sam went off to save Zelda. I watched the rest of Where Love Has Gone. It is very dramatic, melodramatic. Susan Hayward kills herself in the end, the reality of life becomes too much for her. She always spoke like a drag queen, she really did. Like a bloke in a frock.
9.50pm. Bruno wanted to wee and go to bed.
We watched Buena Vista Social Club.
10.50pm. We went to bed. Bruno went for one last wee. Sam headed out the back to clean one of our security cameras.
11.45pm. Lights out.
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