Swimming Pool

I was 17 when I discovered that not everyone else saw the world as fuzzy as me, and that I needed glasses. Wanting so badly to be cool, wearing glasses just didn't fit the image I was pathetically striving for.

My parents were always pretty tight with money, but somehow, I managed to persuade them to get me contact lenses. That was in the days when contact lenses were very expensive and had to be cleaned with a cleaning solution and then boiled to disinfect every night.

One summer Saturday, the parents of the two little girls I regularly babysat, told me that I would be babysitting the girls at the house of a friend of theirs that day. As it turned out, a mega-rich friend with a fantastic mansion and enormous swimming pool. The girls would have their cozzies and I could bring mine too. There was another little girl at the friends' house and I was looking after all three kids while the parents were out.

It was a hot day, and we had such fun playing in the pool. Such fun, that I completely forgot that I was wearing contact lenses. It wasn't until it was time to go home that noticed that my right contact lens has vanished. Into the pool, obviously.

When I got home, I was terrified of telling my parents. I knew they would not react well My dad yelled at me: did I have any idea how expensive contact lenses are, and why wasn't I more careful? He said there was only one thing to do: he was going to get his scuba diving equipment and find the missing contact lens in the pool.

Like a drowning fish, I gasped. In disbelief. In horror. Was he completely insane to think it was even remotely possible to find a tiny invisible plastic sliver in a big swimming pool? Did he truly think that the pool owners would let a complete nutcase go scuba diving in their pool? Did he want to ruin my life?

In an instant, he was already putting the scuba gear in the car. I pleaded, I begged, I promised I would never ever be so careless again. Eventually he relented. I've never been sure if he realised himself what an idiot he would look like, or if he eventually figured the health insurance would pay for a new contact lens.

The memory still sends shivers of panic and embarrassment up my spine.

I am still here

"After a few years living in Narrabeen, I felt we were on the verge of becoming 'normal Australians'... "

I have been working like crazy lately, and also been on the road alot, so I haven't had much time to blog .... not even to look at my favourite blogs .... I have missed you all.

At the moment, I am at the blue house in the forest. Saying my farewell to it, because its time to move on. I wonder where my adventures will take me next. Feeling a bit sad, but also excited about what might come next.

Driving up here last week, I visited a friend I had not seen for 38 years. She lives in Armidale and I stayed the night there. We talked about old school days in Narrabeen. Rusty memories suddenly became vivid again.

The furniture is all out of the blue forest house now. I am sitting on the floor of the empty house, with the sun streaming in. Tomorrow I am on the road again with Malo and Dog. They are wonderful fellow travellers, both of them.

Leonard

1. vesna has the most beautiful feet
   
   
2. there's a guy in an apartment in the next building who always plays his leonard cohen cd very loud on a friday night. he's probably heartbroken, but i love listening to it.

Dog

Sometimes you see a dog wandering along on its own. It might be a stray dog, or it might be a dog that has just decided to jump the fence and go on an outing alone while its owner is at work. Until a few years ago, when I saw such a dog, I would have crossed the road to the other side of the street to avoid it: because I was afraid. I had a few bad experiences with aggressive dogs when I was a kid, and those experiences sort of left their mark. I did not understand dogs at all. I thought they just like to sniff and bite people.

But that changed when Dog wandered into my life. You could say Dog has been rescued twice, because his previous owner rescued him, full of good intentions, from a doggie rescue shelter for abandoned or abused dogs. But the previous owner found that he was unable to cope with all that caring for a dog requires.

Given that I was sort of afraid of dogs, it is strange that Dog should have ended up with me. I did not want a dog at all. It is a long story, but suffice to say that he sort of insinuated his way into my life.... and also, Mog really wanted him.

So now Dog, the almost-non-barking, doe-faced, Jack Russell/Mini Fox Terrier/ Australian Red Cattle Dog cross, has been with me for about 3 and a half years, and I have definitely become a dog person.

I love going for long walks with Dog. I chat with other dogs and their owners when we are at the park. I love the way Dog races up to me with his tail wagging like crazy after I have been at work all day. I love the way he does a face like the cat in Shrek when he is begging me to play with him or throw his toy for him.

I even let him sleep on my bed. None of my friends can believe that one!

So now I just have to look out that the python in the garage does not eat him. Because I am very fond of Dog.

Urban oasis

The usual route Malo and I take to walk to his school bus is along the river, and then up the hill past a building site, then a little further along to the bus stop. After I say goodbye to Malo, I walk home with Dog via a different route, which is through an industrial area where there are lots of mechanics and panel beating workshops: a pretty ugly urban landscape, but Dog likes it because one of the car workshops has a dog he likes to talk to.

So this morning, we were doing our usual thing. The bit along the river is quite nice. We feel smug that we are not caught in the daily traffic jam on the bridge, we count pelicans, and watch ferries. Malo usually ends up a bit wet because he likes to jump waves made by the ferries' wash.

On my way back home along car workshop street, something different caught my eye. Something green. I looked again, and I laughed. The Guerrilla Gardeners had been at work overnight. A vacant lot which had been just bare soil littered with broken glass, had been transformed into a small urban oasis. A green space for the mechanics and panel beaters to eat their lunch, with even a kennel as a shady resting spot for the car workshop dog!

The whole street looked infected by this sudden arrival of a small green jewel. A happy start to the day.

Celebration

Today is the Australia Day holiday, and until about an hour ago, it was a hot sunny day. Not noticing the change of weather approaching, I took the dog for a walk. We had only been out for about 5 minutes when it began to drizzle. Not too heavily, though.

A little further on, Dog and I encountered a group of about 30 laughing, inebriated young people, leaving the lovely riverside park. Seemed that the rain had brought an end to their celebration. Quite a few wore shorts or t-shirts sporting the Aussie flag; one or two were even draped in the flag.

Dog and I walked on, and got to the park. The scene the group had left behind from their barbeque party in the park left me puzzling about what tricky thing it is, loving one's country ...

There's a Bobcat in my garden ...

I've been at the forest house for about 3 weeks now. I had so many plans to do lots of drawing and illustration and blogging while I am here. But there is so much work to be done in the enormous garden, so that my artwork has had to take second place.

At the moment, there is an small bulldozer filling in a leaky dam and levelling an area at the front of the property. The frogs figured out a day or two ago that something was about to happen, and relocated themselves to the small pond at the bottom of the garden. Smart frogs. Their croaking and the singing of the cicadas and the calls of tropical birds still manage to drown out the noisy bulldozer. I have been pulling out weeds and invading creepers, and am getting the vegie and herb garden a bit more organised.

Its magic here. In a week I head back to the city. Sometimes drawing has to wait!

Double happiness

After 4 days on the road, we arrived at our destination. It is peaceful and beautiful here, my blue house in the forest, surrounded by tropical vegetation. Away from it all, yet not too far from beaches and nearby towns.

The first thing I did when I arrived, even before I made a pot of tea, was to put a load of dirty laundry in the washing machine. Don't know why I love washing clothes so much, but I do. Love the thought of the clothes being clean and smelling fresh soon. Love sorting light colours from dark colours so you don't end up with pink clothes. Love the smell of the laundry powder. Love watching them go round and round through the window of the front loader. Love hanging up the freshly washed clothes with matching pegs. Love watching storm clouds brewing in the distance, worrying about whether it will stay bright and sunny till my washing is dry.

Whilst the first load of clothes was in the machine, I unpacked the car and made a pot of tea. We had a small lunch and settled into the house. Two loads of clothes washed and hung out to dry, then we headed to the beach.

Double happiness because today it is raining, and the forecast says it will rain for the next 3 days. But my washing got done in time. All nice and clean and dry. When the sunny weather returns, the ritual begins again.

Time to do very little

Before Christmas, everyone is madly rushing to get all their work done before the year's end, and to get everything ready for the silly season. And then Christmas comes, and goes. And then you have my favourite time of all: that time after Christmas and into the first weeks of the new year, when there is no pressure and when you head to the beach often, but most of all, you just lie on the sofa with a beer and a book. Perfect.