not The Norlane Pool
At 5pm today it was 40.1 degrees. I would say I was in heaven, but in actual fact I was at Beatty Park pool, lycra wrapped and doing slow and happy laps.
I love heatwaves like this, when time melts in cliched Daliesque fashion, and life slooooows down. Not for me the airconditioned rabbit warren that is work. Stepping out of the stairwell into the carpark, the heat shimmers the air, like an invisible wobble-board.
Heat radiates and rises up from the concrete, making my shoes ick. I love it.
There is something undeniably sexy about weather like this. And not because of the copious sweating and scanty clothing. You breathe differently, you move differently. You don't even move, you drift. Even the breeze is halfhearted.
Because it's too hot to sleep, the days automatically get longer, and there is time, long beautiful minutes, to stand on suburban balconies and listen to the neighbourhood rustle of 11pm. There's a brief smear of stars above the city skyline and a trembling sliver of moon, and air that is warm as breath.
Nudity goes without saying here; and little besides water passes my lips as the hours pass in the night, and in fits of half sleep half wonder I slowly come to the realisation that it's dawn.
Later: Domayne furniture, where I went to buy some towels, to make home a little more luxurious - M arrives tonight. And the only luxury I am good at is home luxury. Big towels, clean linen, good food... I want to return some of the comfort and luxury he showers me with, in my own Banana way.
So, I was paying for the towels, and I asked the lady at the checkout what these little ceramic doodads were...like gift tags, and she said they were for special gifts, that the receiver would never through away, like something beautiful you would give your Mum if you were moving overseas.
-That's already happened- I said
And then she told me that her daughter lives in Norway. And in the middle of a City West retail mega store, I felt this soft cord of commonality loop around us. Mothers and daughters, cast apart at separate ends of this happy earth, and yet still finding daggy things that symbolise sentiment and belonging. I left smiling.
Later still, I went swimming with Steph from work. I wasn't looking forward to it, and boy was I out of practice. Not with the swimming itself, but with dressing in the one piece togs. I stood there for quite some time, with the bathers pulled up to my waist, trying to figure out where the hell my boobs go and how to fit my arms through. Until I realise that I should have put my legs through another hole as well. I was laughing so hard it took quite some time.
It was also my first time wearing a swimming cap, and that also caused hilarity.
But the best thing was the memory smell of chlorinated water, and the sound of bare feet on wet concrete, and the smell of sunscreen and the happy screams of little kids.
I am full of wonder today. M's plane is late, but I am full of wonder today.
...
I love heatwaves like this, when time melts in cliched Daliesque fashion, and life slooooows down. Not for me the airconditioned rabbit warren that is work. Stepping out of the stairwell into the carpark, the heat shimmers the air, like an invisible wobble-board.
Heat radiates and rises up from the concrete, making my shoes ick. I love it.
There is something undeniably sexy about weather like this. And not because of the copious sweating and scanty clothing. You breathe differently, you move differently. You don't even move, you drift. Even the breeze is halfhearted.
Because it's too hot to sleep, the days automatically get longer, and there is time, long beautiful minutes, to stand on suburban balconies and listen to the neighbourhood rustle of 11pm. There's a brief smear of stars above the city skyline and a trembling sliver of moon, and air that is warm as breath.
Nudity goes without saying here; and little besides water passes my lips as the hours pass in the night, and in fits of half sleep half wonder I slowly come to the realisation that it's dawn.
Later: Domayne furniture, where I went to buy some towels, to make home a little more luxurious - M arrives tonight. And the only luxury I am good at is home luxury. Big towels, clean linen, good food... I want to return some of the comfort and luxury he showers me with, in my own Banana way.
So, I was paying for the towels, and I asked the lady at the checkout what these little ceramic doodads were...like gift tags, and she said they were for special gifts, that the receiver would never through away, like something beautiful you would give your Mum if you were moving overseas.
-That's already happened- I said
And then she told me that her daughter lives in Norway. And in the middle of a City West retail mega store, I felt this soft cord of commonality loop around us. Mothers and daughters, cast apart at separate ends of this happy earth, and yet still finding daggy things that symbolise sentiment and belonging. I left smiling.
Later still, I went swimming with Steph from work. I wasn't looking forward to it, and boy was I out of practice. Not with the swimming itself, but with dressing in the one piece togs. I stood there for quite some time, with the bathers pulled up to my waist, trying to figure out where the hell my boobs go and how to fit my arms through. Until I realise that I should have put my legs through another hole as well. I was laughing so hard it took quite some time.
It was also my first time wearing a swimming cap, and that also caused hilarity.
But the best thing was the memory smell of chlorinated water, and the sound of bare feet on wet concrete, and the smell of sunscreen and the happy screams of little kids.
I am full of wonder today. M's plane is late, but I am full of wonder today.
...
posted by BanAnna at 2/25/2010 01:58:00 am
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