We ate spicy soup. And some jelly thing with pork and prawn, which I kind of liked, but Sam turned up his nose.
I was a little vague and I got out my phone. Sam shopped with his usual intensity.
You teach people of the existence of a supernatural being, then you live your life as if that super natural being is telling you the way to live, telling you the truth, that is delusion, that is insanity.
Believe in the magic man, don't believe in the magic man, whatever makes you happy, but remember nobody else has to live as though the magic man is telling them how to live.
People are going to have different views. You've got to respect them as long as they are respecting yours. There in lies the problem, conservatives demand respect, but rarely give it to differing views.
I wrote this at 14.30, crossing Nicholson Street Abbottsford, amongst the traffic, under the canopies of the plain trees, under the blue sky and the shining sun, as Sam encouraged me to move along to go shopping at The Hive. Me on my notes on my iphone. Sam bought greens and veggies and supplies for dinner for the week and I bought pink lady apples at 99c a kilo for snacks at work so I don't resort to buying cake.
We walked home up Victoria Street to Bunnings where I wanted to buy a brown plant saucer, to replace one that I had, but in a bigger size, so it still matched the rest of my plants in my atrium, but Bunnings doesn't stock them in brown, so the nice boy with the dreds, and the nice legs in his shorts, assured me. I'm sure, I have bought them in brown there before. (Plant saucers, not handsome dred boy legs) I have a large begonia that only just fits in its saucer and it threatens to over flow if I get too enthusiastic with the watering can, so I just wanted a bigger size. I've trialled the bigger size with a black saucer that I have, but my eye goes straight to it, because its black. But, maybe, that is just me.
So we headed home. A walk in the sun. I didn't need the hoodie I had worn. Don't you hate it when you have to carry your jumper instead of wear it because you have misjudged the weather, it seems so unnecessary, so redundant.
The sun shone at home, the day sparkled, the afternoon glistened, so much so, that it just urges you to do something. It is easy to do nothing in winter. I wanted to plant my Ficus cuttings, but I needed sand, so we drove back to Bunnings. I cleaned the rest of the shit off my car before we left, it took some time.
There was a cute boy in motorbike leathers who admired my Peugeot as we went upstairs in the glass fronted elevator, saying he had a black one, the paint work on which wasn’t as good as mine.
Really? I thought. Your duco must be really shit. Or was it that I'd just washed mine and that it was wet? Mine so needs a polish... and a proper clean in all of its corners and hard to reach places.
Who cared though, he was handsome and perfectly lovely to gaze at as we chatted.
I now have 25 Ficus cuttings planted up. If they all grow, which I expect they will, I have green fingers, or is that thumbs, after all, I'll have them coming out my ears. Who wants a Ficus? Perhaps, we should get a stall at a weekend market? I could make cake. Banana Cake and Ficus plants, and maybe some glitter, it would be a crazy kind of stall.
We ate chicken schnitzels and coldslaw for dinner. Sam made it all himself. Yum, yum.
Then public holiday was over, seemingly quickly. So the rest of the week will go quick, just a couple of days and the week will be over. And then the year will be over. Don't you think it has gone quick? Can you believe it is November already? Have you grown a moustache? I never do. Although, I kind of like the 70's porn stars at work this time of year.
So we headed home. A walk in the sun. I didn't need the hoodie I had worn. Don't you hate it when you have to carry your jumper instead of wear it because you have misjudged the weather, it seems so unnecessary, so redundant.
The sun shone at home, the day sparkled, the afternoon glistened, so much so, that it just urges you to do something. It is easy to do nothing in winter. I wanted to plant my Ficus cuttings, but I needed sand, so we drove back to Bunnings. I cleaned the rest of the shit off my car before we left, it took some time.
There was a cute boy in motorbike leathers who admired my Peugeot as we went upstairs in the glass fronted elevator, saying he had a black one, the paint work on which wasn’t as good as mine.
Really? I thought. Your duco must be really shit. Or was it that I'd just washed mine and that it was wet? Mine so needs a polish... and a proper clean in all of its corners and hard to reach places.
Who cared though, he was handsome and perfectly lovely to gaze at as we chatted.
I now have 25 Ficus cuttings planted up. If they all grow, which I expect they will, I have green fingers, or is that thumbs, after all, I'll have them coming out my ears. Who wants a Ficus? Perhaps, we should get a stall at a weekend market? I could make cake. Banana Cake and Ficus plants, and maybe some glitter, it would be a crazy kind of stall.
We ate chicken schnitzels and coldslaw for dinner. Sam made it all himself. Yum, yum.
Then public holiday was over, seemingly quickly. So the rest of the week will go quick, just a couple of days and the week will be over. And then the year will be over. Don't you think it has gone quick? Can you believe it is November already? Have you grown a moustache? I never do. Although, I kind of like the 70's porn stars at work this time of year.
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