Tacos of love and bambi handholding

It has been a full and crazy last 24 hours. Not much sleep has been had but I think I'm travelling on adrenaline.

Yesterday I left work early, with a list on a post-it of things I needed to get done before relinquishing Norm for my holiday. Bodhi tree for book, pet shop for treat for Smokey, butcher for fatty bacon...alas I ran out of time to make it to Balcatta and went to Primavera in Mt Hawthorn. And oh how i love old Italian men. Especially butchers. I got a gorgeous slab of pancetta for cooking for the princely sum of $5!

Then on to Maddington, where Kym made tacos while we quaffed some very drinkable white wine, and then sat and watched a Bon Jovi concert from Chicago where they played the whole Lost Highway album. I whimpered as usual. I shouldn't need reminders of how wonderful my friends are, but last night was a great example of why life would be eight shades greyer without Kym. We laughed ourselves stupider.

Then at home, after belting out Cher songs badly in the car, I set to making the bambi dish with the gorgeous shoulder from the Margaret River venison farm. The woody, romantic smells filled the house and my belly with wonderfulness, but I wasn't happy with how the beast was behaving in the oven. So much so that my eyes flew open just before five this morning and I felt it necessary to send Em a text begging for help in my bambi crisis.
Not long after, the call came from Sydney, and she metaphorically held my hand, as I cut into the meat and tasted it, and realised that it kicks arse, and venison is not going to be as melty as lamb shoulder. So I think I'll be okay tonight. If not, Smokey will get more of a treat than he bargained for, and we can have pizza.

So I'm just about ready for work. There are pockets of panic that sometimes spill over onto me, but once I'm in the air I think all will be fine.

Beautiful

so, I had the wonderful portrait photography session yesterday, and it made me feel beautiful...
Recently i said that freckles were like tattoos from the sun, beautiful. And then I saw this Cara Phillips project online...she takes photos with UV light, which at skin clinics usually brings up the imperfections on skin...and freckles I suppose are considered imperfections. But I feel shot through with light when mine come up across the bridge of my nose and my cheeks... and look at this girl. She is glorious...

The other thing I thought about a lot today is relationships, and how they form us, and what they make of us for the future. I don't want to engage in M-bashing because he was my choice and I loved him very much. But I accepted so much as given. I allowed myself to disappear in the great cloud of everything for him and now when light is shone down the tunnel and I find myself face to face with myself and being told I am, actually, important it's all a bit confronting. How easily i let myself melt into devoted housewife mode and let banana disappear. Well let me tell you it's good to be back.

And one of the sweetest messages I have received, actually there are two:

One from MattK - he of the circle of trust -
Oh sweetheart I'd never do my happy dance but I will say that you should be with Someone who makes you happy and wants you to be the clever dynamic woman you are - not just a hungarian housewife

and from Ross
Totally believe in you..you are beautiful and free to soar

Seriously, with friends like these how can i ever feel lonely? :-)
It has been a month since I finally said the words that had been collecting in my throat for weeks. I am not happy with you. I need something else. They were hard words to say but I feel good that I finally said them and we gave up the pretense.

Now there is packing, and fighting with Soi'La, the washing machine, and answering blackcurrant emails. I am happy. In a stripped down, basic way, I am happy with myself and where I currently am. I am okay without music and without distraction. I'm not scared of myself anymore. A work in progress, but I reckon it's worth it.

Do you always watch for the longest day...

And then miss it?

I do, and this June it was the shortest day and I missed that too. There is so much to think about these last days.
I went against my superstitions and watched the game at the Paddo on Friday with J, but all the hoping and swearing couldn't save the team from being beaten by the Swans.
Post-pub the night was close and full of wonder and so the weekend began, slowly and with smiling.

I shopped on Saturday, important things like Tim Tams for the trip and bits and pieces for the bambi shoulder I'm cooking on Wednesday. I am probably disproportionately excited, but I smile when I think of the way Em and I barreled into the venison farm shop, salivating.
There were two more football games to watch on Saturday - SarahJ picked me up and we went to North Beach first - I swear God was in a good mood when he invented afl uniforms, to watch J and then on to City beach to watch Sarah's Rob. Good fun, until one of his team-mates staggered off the ground with a broken collarbone. We three spent the next four or so hours at the hospital, walking from xray to exam room, the Eagles Pies game on every available screen.

On Sunday, after a substantial mug of Paul I strapped my various devices on and headed to City Beach for a run. And I completed 16kms. I know it's a long way off a marathon still but it made me so very happy. And what an encouragement, running up the many hills of North street and then cresting the last to see the Indian Ocean spread out before me like a welcoming embrace. I ran up to the Ocean Beach Hotel on the corner of Eric, proudly muttered "Home stretch baby" as I turned around and ran back to Norm.
Later, what started as an offer to look after J and his sore head turned into an absolute treat for me, with lunch at the Breakwater in beautiful winter sun. Not too sure what I've done to deserve this.

I then spent an hour with an amazing photographer called Melinda, by a colourful wall in Freo on Cantonment street having my photo taken. What a thrill! And the results are mostly wonderful!
No trip to Freo would be complete without a pilgrimage up to the monument and whilst there I saw the most gorgeous thing! On the bench next to me say a couple, maybe 16 years old. And they had the simplest picnic of bread rolls and chocolate milk. And I thought champagne and strawberries are not always necessary, sometimes the simplest gesture can make your heart soar.

On the drive home I saw something else wonderful: At the Loftus lights I was stopped next to a big, rumbling Holden ute with a big burly bloke driving. And then I noticed that on the seat next to him, sitting on top of a motorbike helmet was a cat. Yes, a cat. I wanted the lights to stay red for ages.

The night was set to fizzle after that, with an encroaching wave of I'm so ronery, but a chance phone call saved me and this morning I was late to work, late to breakfast but infinitely happy.

In four days I fly, ready or not.

Morning have sharp edges. Perth is wintering.
The fruit bowl is empty but for the banana, and even that not for long. I fly out in a week.

I saw a fantastic African extravaganza at Burswood last night with Barb, a sort of history/ showcase of African music through the years.
Aren't human bodies incredible? The show went from tribal dancing through gumboot dancing - originating from mine workers, dancing and singing in the Shebeens, gospel and hip hop. It was really rather phenomenal and I loved that the women's bodies on show weren't picture perfect. Big bums and strong legs and boobs of all different sizes and bellies - they had bellies! - and yet they were so full of joyous life and sex appeal and humour. It was great!

Work continues on its insane trajectory, but there will be a little football tonight, a little photography and running and maybe a film on the weekend, accompanied by the beautiful clean colours of this cold snap.

The rain is lashing Perth again. I farewelled the Blackcurrants for more than two months this morning, with a delicious breakfast shared with much laughter. Even if not my own home, I am very lucky to live in our odd little family unit.
Trapidation over my own trip continues to grow, tainted with guilt and stress.

I have much to think about, as a conversation with HT made clear to me yesterday, drinking milky tea while Perth spread sunshine carelessly. Embracing change and all of that.

So this morning, blinking away sleep and wading through the weather I felt like I needed a dose of Winterson to start the day. And in her column from December 2011, she says:

I would be dead if I had never found books. So I wouldn’t call them a luxury or a leisure item. I’d call them allies in the life and death struggle.

She also quotes the late owner of Shakespeare and Company bookshop in Paris:

George said, ‘The business of books is the business of life.’ I love that. If books do disappear then something of life will disappear too.

This is timely to think about as Fairfax slash jobs across Australia and broadsheets like the dear old Age are to become tabloids. I hope we never lose the smudge of newsprint completely.

I found the previous bit of writing flulff in one of the bags I had packed from M's house - still full and reeking of 'home' that I didn't feel ready to unpack for some time. But I've felt increasinlgy ready. And everything is unpacked now, and I felt fine looking at old words and remembering.
March was hot this year. Clothes-cumbersome unneccessary hot, and I loved it. He bought me a banana lounge for Christmas, and it became my staple position, half sticking out from under the patio roof, legs browning until I couldn't bear it anymore.

There were some upsets this weekend, but not too severe.

Friday was for romance. And for being treated like a lady and I loved it. When was the last time I had a taxi door held open for me? Or had help putting my coat on? It was a twinkling, warm and close night, and I cherish it.

Yet despite the beautiful Friday night, I woke quite lethargic and heavy on Saturday. N and I drank a slow coffee and did round the house stuff before we went to North Beach for our hot stone massages. While she had hers I libraried, and then she shopped while I was under the hands of this wonderful talented woman. I may have drifted off into a snuffly pug-noise-making sleep towards the end but I didn't care.
Afterwards we had lunch at Yelo, in the blustery, almost open cafe with the whole grand ocean before our eyes.

In the evening, Bruce and Kaz came over for dinner, I made Mrs Ed's special hazelnut and coffee cake and we had a grand time. Until I felt like my eyes were closing involuntarily and I made it upstairs and crawled into bed. I slept the sleep of the perfect, or the innocent or whatever and woke without an alarm at 9am. I lazed, marvelling at the sun-touched day, stretching, feeling good. And then I got a text.

Now, as an avowed and passionate carnivore I love pork. But the picture of the small beast I had fed for a week splayed on the spit roast did bad things to my mind and my mood plummeted. I don't think M meant bad by it, but I felt the day sort of caving in, so instead of letting it do that, I went for a run.

Music in my ears, heart rate monitor strapped on, I ran from the edge of the City Beach car park to the corner of Karrinyup Road and back. And oh on the way back it was hard. I struggled and my legs screamed but then the Blackcurrants rode up behind me and I received a massive extra surge of energy "Home stretch baby!" and must have run the last 2kms with a silly smile on my face.

A shower at home and some skyping, some writing, and a carpet picnic with my famous eggplant dip, crudites, and oh my god the best damn wedges I think I've ever made. Oh, and Miami Vice.

Today is a good day. Gym in the morning, an alarm activation giving two of the security guys an eyeful of my knicker-clad-bum in the changeroom, painting first thing at work, and outside, all shiny and beautiful. Perth is resplendent in light once again.

How to stop spinning in a fast world

the unruly rhythmic lurch of the hills hoist creaking under force of this wind sent straight from the Pilbara. Sent straight from the mouth of a cyclone that has thrown the clouds upside down and rain-beat birds into silence.

Here, the cat pushes for space on the banana lounge, raising greying eyebrows each time i nudge her with my foot.
It is the peace of a suburban Sunday; willy wagtails dance and scrape their feet along the garage roof.

The wing beats of an invisible crow. Dark shadow-flash above the patio. Sunday afternoon sounds.
And though time has melted into March we are still wringing summer from our skin.

these words are my postcard sized pocket of escape.
Under the long flat sky, pockmarked by plum coloured clouds. I imagine rain.
How it would fall on charcoal hills. And splash against embracing trees-
making spiderwebs heavy with crystals.

The westernmost tree I've seen

said my beautiful Emma as we walked out of the airport towards the waiting Norm. It was a wonderful wonderful night.
There were bubbles, for a good reason, and wine and cider, just because. And a gorgeous gift from Em and Jim that fits beautifully round my neck.

It was the start of a wet and adventurous long weekend!

We started Saturday with a trip to Balcatta to the magic sausage shop (does that sound weird?). The Adriatic Butcher shop has a wonderful collection of smokey, spicy, wonderful suausage and various meats. Csabai, Gyulai (or as Nickiy will forever refer to them hence: Hot-Chubby and Doolally), speck and cabanossi. Breakfast was black pudding at the West End Deli and then we headed to Freo, for a day fat with conversation. We ended up on Monument Hill with a bottle of bubbles as we watched the sunset. On the way home I had a bare bummed dip in the water at Leyton Beach (thankfully we were alone) and then at home we proceeded to get very silly with bottles of wine and bourbon. Photos of the night have been locked in a vault, never to be revealed.

We had a vague idea to drive down to Margaret River on Sunday but when Em woke me with a kiss on my forehead at 6.30 I had trouble remembering who I was. Nevertheless, I packed the esky, made coffee and toast and we headed off. In the rain.

But not before the massive enormous terrifying spider who first made her presence known on Friday, reappeared at the edge of my door. I squealed like a girl, and Em tried to get rid of it, failing, and seeing the spider scuttle back INSIDE the car. We headed off, Em on spider-watch-duty, me driving with my bum clenched, trying to keep my terror in check.
Somewhere in line with Harvey, very calmly Emma said "I can see the spider"
Very calmly I replied "Should I pull over?"
Mere moments later, the spider was dead and we were on our way again, smilingly believing that that was the biggest adventure of the weekend.

We stopped first at Meelup where the extent of the weather madness became apparent. Norm's door was almost ripped from her frame and the rain was almost horizontal. Em rolled up her pants and stood calf deep in the gorgeously raging sea. I stood under a tree, laughing like a madwoman and sending giddy texts. Curving round the coast from Eagle Bay, we stopped first at Clairault Estate wines. Fancy, and opulent in the rolling scenery. We were early, and the only ones there, so the guy spent lots of time with us. We bought a Petit Verdot and spent lovely long minutes, sampling their wines.

There was some orgasmic delight at the venison farm (I bought a shoulder roast!!!) and then we stopped for lunch at Knee Deep. Lunch and a good shiraz. And that's when the real adventure started. While we were finishing up our frankly amazing desserts, a huge sound rent the air. A wind like nothing I'd seen or heard before tore along the vines ripping branches and bark from the trees and stirring the rain into frenzied lines. We looked at each other nervously, and waited until at least some of it had passed, before we walked out to Norm to find she was thankfully okay.

But the roads were not okay. Several large branches had landed across various roads, making some of them impassable (like the road to Howard Park) and some of them barely manouverable by going off the road, or around onto the oncoming lane.

We spent some time marvelling at the elegant Karri trees, with the light glistening on their trunks and then, despite the crazy weather we headed further south to Augusta. The clouds parted momentarily where the two oceans met, and the desolation of that jutting corner was just beautiful.

By the time we cruised north through Margaret River darkness was falling and out on the Bussel Highway many trees still littered the road. On the outskirts of Bunbury Norma's need-fuel light came on, and I turned into the town to find a servo. Alas, the whole city was shrouded in darkness, and a small huddle of people stood at the doorway. Power wasn't promised before 10pm and even that wasn't a certainty.

We ended up at the Mantra Bunbury, in a gorgeous twin room with kick-arse toiletries and a big telly. We sat around after showering and ate a carpet picnic and drank our Petit Verdot. All in all it was a pretty sweet end to a very adventurous day.

Finding fuel on Monday was a mission, but thanks to Em's iPhone we found a functioning Caltex and were saved.

It's never long enough, time spent with people you love. But I can honestly say we made the most of it. We even got in a showing of Hercules Returns (get yer hand off me left tit and put me down!), sitting on the couch drinking Aperol.

Smiling

It's raining and the sky was resplendent in rainbow this morning. I have seldom felt this happy even in grey weather.
And it's odd. For the first time in a very very long time, I have feel okay in my own headspace. Without distraction. Felt okay to lie in bed, eyes open and hand on heart and not feel panic.
I went for a run the other day without the ipod. Just my thoughts. It sounds like such a trifling thing but for me it was huge. I appear to have reached a place where I feel... just Good.

I had coffee with Mark today (and it made me happy that even after 33 years of being married, he thinks about romance with the Mrs) and he couldn't stop saying how good I looked, how glowing (not glowing in a pregnant sense!) and that I seemed like I was in a good place. And I bloody am! There is no place I would rather be at the moment.

My faithful Polish fellow-foodie has brought in some delicious beefy goodness for a surprise lunch, so the day keeps getting better.