Light In Winter And Then Waking Up By The Sea

Oh, Jesus, the road works are really too much. They are replacing the tram tracks and the thump thump thump thump thump of the big machine with the pointy thingamy hanging out the front digging up the old tracks woke me up on Friday night. Me. The person who sleeps the sleep of the dead. Me. The person who can sleep through a hurricane. (Okay, it was a bad storm, but you get my point.) Me. Who is woken by nothing on earth. Knock on my door, ring my doorbell, call on the phone, I won't hear once the land of nod has enveloped me.

Oh, sometime in the early morning I woke because I needed a piss, to be truthful, to hear the boom boom boom boom of the before mentioned jack hammer. I tossed and turned for, oh, um, probably 10, or 15, minutes before I dozed off again, but that is long enough, too long enough. Well, it was enough for me to worry about sleep last night. The workers will be in full swing by then. As nothing really disturbs my sleep, something that does is a big deal. They were working right through until Monday morning, I asked one of the chaps in a reflective yellow jacket.

"Monday morning, everything must be back to normal," said the workman.

Oh?

So, when Jane suggested that Sam and I come to Ocean Grove with she and (father) Mark, I thought it was a damn good idea to get away from the now exponentially increased noise of the inner suburbs. One night down, one to go, as they say. The quiet of the country suddenly seemed so appealing.

We all took the youngest boy child of the family to see Despicable Me 2 yesterday afternoon at Melbourne Central, Mark, Sam and me. It was hysterical, we laughed and laughed. I love the way Sam laughs when he really thinks something is funny, it is pure joy. Mark and Jay ate McDonalds, because Jay is like most 9 year olds and he won't eat anything that he hasn't eaten before. Sam and I ate Sushi. Oh, the food court at Melbourne Central, it would be easier to name the food that you can't buy there.

The designers had tried to be stylish, they had given it a really good attempt but, really, it just ended up looking try-hard and a bit flaky, eclectic would be a kind description, but they nearly got it and full marks for trying. The place was full, there were people everywhere. I managed to pick a table next to two beautiful blonde girls who spoke incessantly and loudly in Finish, or Swedish, or one of those languages and they couldn't have been more annoying if they were trying to be annoying. We should have just farted loudly, or picked our noses and flung it, no eaten it, but, of course, we didn't and we just ignored them.

Then, afterwards, we wandered down Swanston Street to meet Jane and to watch the Light in Winter in Federation Square. Ah, the lovely boulevard that is now Swanston Street, it has been beautifully transformed into a lovely promenade, it is so much better without cars. It makes one wonder how much more of the city could be made carless. 

I like Fed Square now, when originally I hated it. But now I think it is charming and quite cool. The light show was interesting, but the music was uninspired and, quite frankly, boring to snores. The singers before hand were dull, the choir was rubbish. There was one terrific female singer who sang with the choir, who was fantastic, but the rest, shake of the head, not so much.

Then we escaped to the beach. Lovely. Buddy staid home, poor Buddy, as he loves the beach. He sat there and watched us all get ready and you could see in his face, that he knew something was going on and that somebody should be putting his harness on him and giving him directions to the car, but they weren't. He kept looking from one to the other of us.

Then it was a night drive down the highway out of the city. I love a good night drive, it is like an escape, it is like an adventure.

We lit the open fire and I fell asleep in front of it with my head on Sam's shoulder.

So, this morning, I woke to the lovely, sunny open spaces of a suburb by the beach. Ah, fresh air, breath it in. Yes, big breath. Ah, the light and the depth of the atmosphere, somehow, it is different in the country, it is different again by the beach. It is lighter and airier, it seems healthier and cleaner.

I could move to the country one day. I think I probably will, one day. Out of the rat race.