tired

I took two nighttime tabs a little while ago, and already it is making it difficult to type. Now I know what it’s like to be, oh, William Burroughs or some other junkie. You know, you take drugs to be creative and then you can’t even type. Anyway, everyone (as the girl who served me at Safeway tonight when I went to buy Mia some sour cream – her name was Lyndsay) has a fluey cold at the moment, and I am never one to miss out on a new trend, so here I am. I had a sore throat every morning for about four mornings, but each time I got over it, so I thought nothing more of it. And then at about 8 pm last night (Saturday, I’m typing this in bed actually, but won’t post it till Monday I guess) it hit me and I was down. In fact for the last 24 hours I have felt pretty alright, it’s just I’m crying all the time and of course my nose is running like… alright, no metaphors, too gross.

I am a bad diarist because it is really hard for me to remember things. Yesterday we went to see Emily Ferretti’s exhibition in Johnson St. There was a painting of a colander I really liked which luckily was on a postcard just inside the door. She had sold all the paintings anyway. Then we did some shopping at Pascoe Vale Road Market, always a pleasure. I took the dogs out to the park and we met a guy with a little white fluffy dog who Charlie would not stop barking at. The dynamics of Charlie’s world are too complex for me to even theorise about. All I know is she’s trying to defend the pack, because Millie won’t do it. The reason Millie won’t do it is she knows the pack is not under attack (I don’t know what she would do if the pack was genuinely under attack; I hope I never have to find out. Very occasionally she will discipline Charlie, with a front paw on the shoulder, but that’s as far as it goes). Charlie can’t seem to see this.

Down in our lake we have two black swans with three cygnets, and a pelican – and numerous little black ducks and some mallards too. Frogs as well, which sound like they have an echo chamber effect on them – not sure whether they’re underground or just croaking at walls.

Today we went to Ceres for my mother Jane’s birthday. We had Hot Indonesian Eggs and Laurie hurt his head on a rock. Jane retired on Friday which must be weird. I think I might retire too. She is going to get her puppy in about a month. She has already named him, Kenzie. He is a border terrier.

Some new characters are moving to the neighbourhood in a while, Nicole, Julian and little April have bought a house up the road. They are not moving in for 3 months. Christmas in Jacana they say.

I don’t know what else I have to tell you diary. I continue to live the life of an elderly child, attempting to read the minds of animals and also attempting to churn out obscure academic papers on seemingly random topics (seemingly? I must be having an out of body experience). Anyway the coldnflu tabs are obviously kicking in now as I can’t think so I will lie back and enjoy the trip.

april 27-28 debrief pt 3

So here are a few bits and pieces from what I got. The Red Onions album (top) was my most expensive purchase, $25 which didn't seem absurd and though I only played two or three tracks before Mia wanted to watch the news I think it was a good buy. Pretty sure that's Geoff from the Crayon Fields' dad in front of the washboard thar. Dave Warner's last album for Mushroom, Correct Weight, much better than I expected for what the $1 price tag suggested. Air Supply I am not yet sure about. The 3 Little Pigs record pretty much one of those artefacts that seems worth the 20c asked for its status as a curio. The cover claims it is a 'Sambo' record, the label that it is a 'Kiddidisc' product. It would appear that this release captures the company in transition. Early to mid 70s I would say. From NZ.