When I hear the beginning of the kettle boiling, it makes me think of the times I was gently woken up in the lounge room under a fort of pillows, Dad boiling the kettle. I would hear the gentle distant roar, the kettle waking up from a deep sleep, louder and louder. Click of the kettle and a random clearing of the throat by my dad. Then splash of hot water filling the cold ceramic mug. That really quiet splash but so familiar. Would mean I survived the scary sleep out in the lounge room and I remember the uncertain noises coming from behind the piano when the old kitchen clock said 5:10am. I pushed the pillow wall over next to where my sister was meant to sleep until she chickened out at 9pm last night, just after ‘The Bill’ finished. She was concerned some chav’s from Tooting would get her, she was seven.. And in Australia. Anyways I was the brave one, 11 years old and king of the leather cushion and old blanket cubbyhole. It may not have been the most structurally sound but the heavy Yosemite National Park book on top of the table that held the blanket up only fell on my sister once during setup.
Oh I am on the tram. Two sets of couples were so focused on each other they both forget to hold onto a bloody pole and fall onto me. No apology either, which is fine since I never did apologise to that blind man that time, but no point making excuses.
Magnolia’s are out! First symbol winter is dying. Mike pointed out that they remind him of purple flames amongst the trees. I like this image, and bring a fire extinguisher just in case.
Marissa and I went for a spontaneous bike ride the other day. No expectations always lead to surprise. I had no idea how beautiful the scenery is by the Yarra river, we decided to ride along it. Some parts were like Wind in the Willows, some other areas were like Waterworld (the big budget flop which then became successful as a stunt show at Universal Studios), with the boardwalk for the track laid right on the river. In summary, we felt like kids going on a Saturday afternoon adventure! And we both left the day with big grins on our faces, and what more can you ask for in a day of your life? We sat there and watched the sunset over Melbourne, the faint smell of new flowers and ants taking the crumbs of cheese we left.
I had a bath tonight. My bath is about 4 foot long. So I end up having my legs scrunched up against the shower wall to fit my torso in. To an onlooker (not like I would have onlookers in this situation) it must look mighty awkward. It is just a bit less awkward for me, the one experiencing it. And I swear as I have gotten older, my hands wrinkle so much faster in the water. Is this a sign of getting older? And I will admit, I still make my bath a bubble bath. Though my shower gel sucks as bubble bath, the bubbles do not have the right consistency for relaxing. Why? Because they pop too fast and make a lot of noise and so there is no peaceful silence, just that quiet crackle, especially the ones stuck in your ear that you cant get rid of. Yep, so the reason I share this with you is because I was going onto say, I listened to a song. This was the song, reminds me of being up near Bundaberg in QLD and laying in a Spa with the ocean in the background, parrots in the trees and the worries of then were so different to any worries I have now. I am thankful for my worries now. I was not of the past worries. I will say worries just once more. There, worries.
I laid in the bat
How awesome are baths! I remember as a kid living at my grandma's house. There is this awesome concrete tessellated tile bath my uncle made, it even has a step in it. And yes, how can you have a bath without bubbles. Awesome memory stirring post.