So - I didn't make a decision
to buy cheap polyester trousers
nor did I purchase any shoes
and I couldn't make up my mind
about a fifteen dollar tea set
with white cups and saucers,
white tea pot, milk jug and
a sugar bowl - white, of course.
And I wasn't quite sure about
whether or not to buy another
granuflex dressing for my leg,
which seems to be healing,
nor was I sure if I needed
any groceries after all
so I entered neither Woolies
nor Coles, which I never use
anyway ...
............................but I did forget
my house key, which was dense of me.
So I called Sharon, who rescued me
as Sharon has rescued me before
................ arriving with a spare key
from which the key-cutting guy cut
two copies, while Sharon bought
pillows and an i-pod docking station,
then we sipped chai latte tea,
whatever that's supposed to be,
before Sharon went home, while I
frittered away indecisive moments
unable to choose between Thai,
Chinese and Indian fast food
outlets on the Mall's fourth floor
then settled on Wonton Vegetable
Noodle Soup from the Chinese... but
that turned out to have pork in it.
,
One of the marvels of Google is that merely by typing the words "hot weather" into the search box you may stumble upon a page headed "Rabbits & weather - hot weather information" by Jane Morrison.
Spike and I sat in Belmore Park at lunch time, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of final preparations for this evening's launch of the year of the ox. It was hot so there was more than a little exasperation and frustration in evidence as people sorted their tents of Buddhist charities, hare krishna brown rice, private health insurance and all the rest. Short-tempered men squeezed promotional Volkswagons into tight spaces between trees and portaloos. A bored man driving a fork lift truck deposited refrigerator units to ice cream tents. Swarming through the construction site, dozens of body-painted cricket fans .... slightly worse for their morning's drinking sessions and the lunch time humidity ... made their way to Central station and the Sydney Cricket Ground for the one day-day match against South Africa.
Barking mad, unless you're an eighteenth-Century Mason. But the music is lovely and the singing was truly captivating. Emma Pearson's two arias as Queen of the Night were stunning. The crowd in the opera house was simply stopped in its tracks by the second piece and we roared our appreciation until we didn't know what to do next. So we sat back and enjoyed the rest of the show with its neat little resolutions of boy meets girl stories and the more than slightly incredible idea (these days) of Masonic good triumphing over the female / night's evil. Me? I'm on the side of the lady who sings from the Moon.
