peter and helen's

Last night I went to Peter and Helen's, I rode the bike (Mia and I share a really good bike we got from Cash Converters a few months ago, though she also has one that's exclusively hers, admittedly I could kind of ride it all I like at the moment, but I suppose if I want that thrill I only have a few days) to their place in North Melbourne which took an hour and towards the end it got pretty dark. As it happened I had a front light in my backpack but there was no attachment. But I did have some masking tape (this is getting a bit Fortunately Unfortunately isn't it) but I didn't think it would be a matter of seconds to tape the light onto the front of the bike. Later, when I was leaving P&H's, I did tape the light on the bike and there was no problem except... the light didn't work any more! Then I tapped it and it did. But I had noted on the way from Jacana to N Melb that it was almost all downhill, which I guess makes sense when you're dealing with a path that follows a creek, so I wasn't game to ride all the way back, so I took the train.

P&H have three boys ranging from 8 to younger. One thing I found particularly strange about them (though it didn't make me feel squeamish the way it once would) was they are so touchy. I suppose what I really mean is touchish. I don't remember being so happy to sit on (relative) strangers' laps or touch their backs when walking behind them, etc. I imagine my commenting on it says more about me than them. Also clearly they are just comfortable in their house with their parents and each other there, etc and why shouldn't they be. It's not often I spend much time with boys and I admit I got a little swept up in the general hilarity particularly as they whipped themselves up in the half hour or so before they went to bed. It's a pretty amazing dynamic and they were all in their different ways a hoot. That said I don't know how P&H cope with the constant ruckus but obviously they do, very well.

Obviously having boys under ten affects one strangely and I discovered that P&H did not like Shaun of the Dead - fair enough, it's not very good really though I found it mildly satisfying - but they apparently really didn't like Napoleon Dynamite, and that, I feel, is very strange.

I spoke to Mia this morning, she called at 7:30 - seems like she has been to every gallery Europe has to offer and by bizarre coincidence she was in the Netherlands when she got an email from a Dutch man who wants to buy one of her paintings (ie he had no idea she was in the country). Unless it's a trap. She says her London show went well and the Dutch relatives have been really hospitable, which is their reputation (the relatives'). I wish I'd been there particularly for that bit.

Once again the carport is not being painted (I really thought the local Amish would come to the party for that one) well, in truth, my workplace hasn't paid me for a month and I am not sure when they are going to do so again, so I can't afford luxuries like paint. Also I admit when I looked at it again I don't think I've really removed enough of the old paint, and I need to invest in some sealant for the back part where there has been a bit of a rust issue (the carport, a classic piece of gangly seventies design, has too much of an overhang on the gutter - presumably to limit the amount of big things that get into it - but this also means it's hard to get major detritus out). I did want to present Mia with a repainted carport on Tuesday morning but too much dazzling paintwork out front may detract from the beautifully repainted bathroom, not to mention the watercloset, which now has some pictures hung in it for quiet contemplation (a picture of the stairs at the first house I lived in out of home, 202 Abercrombie St, for instance - why did I take that picture? No-one knows, least of all me, but I suppose the same strange impulse that made me keep it 20 years and then stick it in a $2 frame and put it on a wall; and a picture of a warehouse demolition in Brisbane also from the mid-80s. ) All very tasteful.