Sunday far Enough Away

We got up late, had a shower and walked to Victoria Street for soup. The sun was shining down warmly, like honey or warm milk. Winter sun that I just wanted to walk in.

The soup was yum, Vietnamese, pork belly, eggs, rice noodles, and just what the morning called out for; huskily asked for, requested, like a nightclub singer dreamily the morning after Saturday night, croaky, gentle, slow.

Afterwards, we sat outside in the only coffee shop in Victoria Street and drank coffee in the sun. I so wanted the raspberry muffin, but Sam looked over at my stomach and winced, as he does when I want a fatty treat.

I read about the shooting in the cinema in Colorado and about the French premier being cancelled because of it. What does the French premier have to do with a cinema in but-fuck Colorado, I wondered, shooting, or no shooting. Surely, the two are a world away from each other? Surely, one has nothing to do with the other. Surely, that is over thinking the whole tragedy just a little too much, isn’t it? That is taking our “fear culture” just a little too far.


Still, it was a lovely day and what did I care? Colorado? Where is Colorado? Poor bastards. With their gun culture what do you expect? Sad though, almost incomprehensible, that that could happen just like that. One minute they were eating their popcorn... the next... Why would anyone want to defend gun culture?

It made good reading over Sunday morning coffee, or heads buried in our respective newspapers, those crazy Americans. Sure the Norwegians have been at it of late, but the Americans still own the genre.

The sky was blue and I walked hand in hand with Sam up the Langridge Street hill. A world away? Two worlds a way.


Apparently, we have to go to the supermarket if not every day, every second day. Apparently. Oh really? We didn’t go yesterday, after all. Can’t we have scrambled eggs? But we had to go today. Maybe it was as punishment for my mean thoughts about Colorado. Maybe? Oh, they weren’t meant to be mean thoughts but, you know, if the world wide news didn’t bring mad men going on shooting rampages into my lounge room I wouldn’t know of such things, you know. It wouldn’t be apart of my world.

We only needed some bacon to cook another quiche. I tried to talk Sam into just having a quiche with no bacon, but he wouldn’t be in it.

“Slack Christian. Slack Christian!”

And since we were going mushrooms and a leek. I wasn’t being slack, just bored. Hands up who of you relish a trip to the supermarket?

I just had to defrost those two sheets of pastry that I thawed out yesterday and which I didn’t need, so I refreeze it.

“I’m sure it isn’t healthy to refreeze anything?”

“Don’t be a pussy,” replied Sam.

I wasn’t convinced that I was being a pussy. What was it that my mum always said?


To Mark

Is it bad to defrost pastry, not use it, then refreeze it and then defrost it for a second time and use it?

I decided to not live in fear. Realistically, it is not good to refreeze anything, but pastry is essentially only flour and water, let’s face it.

The quiche leaked everywhere out the bottom of my two piece pan, like a fat girl pissing standing up. Or that greeting card with the elephant spread legged on the front? What decade was that from? That was a very popular card, the elephant pissing on the from, often with the caption, It never rains but it pours. Would that be a popular card today?

Bugger! Good thing I had a tray under the quiche. It looked like fried egg, as it baked on the tray. Pity the quiche is somewhat empty? I was going to attempt to pick the egg up and return it to the quiche. Sam gave me that look, you know, a cross between mental and disgusting. We had a green salad to accompany it.

I whipped the rest of the cream and added the vanilla bean, which I didn’t really know what to do with it, and scooped big spoonful’s over large wedges of the red velvet cake. It was nice too.


It was a quiet night, just me and Sam and the open fire. We watched Masterchef and Modern Family. I love those two shows. I want to lick Andy’s… er… um face. Modern Family cracks me up.

We watched the best of Graham Norton, which seems to change segments at an unwatchably fast pace. Graham Norton is so cute, cute in a best friend kind of way, not a sex way.

We watched two new episodes of True Blood. Bill, Eric, Alcide, three of the sexiest men on television and some how Suki has them all under her spell, lucky bitch, as they say. Suki must truly have a super snatch, as the delectable Pam said.

I think Pam makes it into my all time favourite characters along with Monty Burns and Karen Walker, Celia Hodes and Sheldon Cooper. Pam’s great, really great.

Half way through the second episode we hear the front door open and close. Shane was home early as he had training tomorrow. That was surprising as he doesn’t come home from Sydney until Monday night. We were just about to go to bed anyway, the episode was just about over, so we didn’t see much of him.

I message Mark before I head to bed. He still hasn’t called me back, I hope he’s okay. I hope he isn’t thinking that I never call him?

Oh well, we ate it. So far so good, not dead yet.

sweet dreams, going to bed now.

You didn't call back

I hope you are okay

everything is going okay

I hope you landed okay