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You know I was in a big room and it was empty and I kind of thought I should fill it or something. Fill my mind or expand it and go outside of myself seeing all covering all. It was all white and the windows were huge and the light soft and it could almost be gauze on the windows but wasn’t. Just the effect of it. A big happy enveloping thought spreading out and curling around and back and not having any edges like the air itself. A part of the ether. I am sure of this one thing.
There is no God. What will happen when this thing that has defined us is removed from the possibility of being? What will replace it? For it must be essential. It is part of the very core of society. It is bizarre. It is part of being a part, not being apart. One must pretend there is a god, and politely ignore the superior superciliousness of those who believe a paradise waits in his bosom. If you really think about it, really make a meal of taking the whole thing apart, it is ridiculous, another fairy tale written for children.
Walking to the station I looked down my front to see if my boobs were still there (they were) and thought about checking the time on my phone because I thought I was late. I didn’t fish for the phone as it made no difference if I knew I was late, and I briefly thought I should wear a watch. The phone is an hour out and that doesn’t matter, but I’m not sure if the minutes are right and they matter. I made it just in time but at the wrong end of the train, so didn’t see him.
The best thing about Sunday school, apart from a general sense of goodness and the world being right-edness, was the chance to dress up. Good people went to Sunday school and the little white hat and little dress were special. Not worn for much longer. Hats went out of fashion for quite a while and now it is always the mothers with young children who wear them. Young mother, young child, both with a big sensible hat. Never wore one before and won’t for much after the 12th birthday, but wear one now. Set a good example while it works.
I’m feeling pretty good today. The sheets are smooth and warm and the cat is on the doona curled up against the small of my back. The car is running well after being filled with petrol. I don’t drive it enough and the petrol goes off. I should get half a tank at a time but I hate getting petrol. It’s another chore. That is probably why. Now the days are cooler and it is nice to be in the sun the dog is again dragging his blankets out to lie on. I don’t know what I want to do.
I saw a flock of white cockatoos fall like a mosquito net onto a large gum.
In the grass below, pigeons pecked at pieces of bread. Some cockatoos dropped to the ground and tore at large pieces of bread held in one foot, and some had taken bread back to the branches of the tree, where they perched, eating in the same manner. Behind the tree lay a startling blue sky layered with cloud of apricot stripes. In the tree, each cockatoo was placed equidistantly, as though by design.
I could have been at home instead, watching the other Sunrise.
The sky was becoming clear after heavy rain. Water dripped from trees and overhanging bushes so an umbrella was thought of, if not used. The railway lines were flung down like shiny zippers. Everything was wet and glamorous in the morning sun. After rain is the best kind of wet weather to be out in. It rains often in the valley and a further bank of cloud to the West promised another downpour. It’s like that sometimes, the luck of being out before rain, after rain or being caught out in it. Whatever way, it can be a pure delight.
You may be wondering what happened to Wendy. Wendy wandered away to be rescued by the well-intentioned Wilfred. Although well weirded-out, Wilfred wasted no time in wrapping Wendy in his red cloak and whisking her to his Grandma’s house, Wendy still holding her weapon. Once there, Wilfred was shocked for the second time that day, saying “My, Grandma, what big ears you have!” And when Grandma smiled, “And what big teeth you have!” When grandma sprang from the bed Wendy used her walrus-gun for the second time that day, and whacked Grandma, for it was plain Grandma was a wolf.
I want to write about journeys, but this writing caper is harder than you think. All the journeys one can take, they are never ending. They pop up and fall back through my eyes and stack up as in the packing room of the Archibald Prize, and I jump from one to the next seeing promise in them all. I don’t have to select the best one. I can use them all. For one hundred words a month I can use every one. Everything is a journey. That is an amazing thing to realise. Without even trying we undertake journeys.
The big gum stands magnificently on a rise with the lightening morning sky as a backdrop. A kookaburra sits among the branches. Little mynas operate in a gang and flit around the dangerous bird. He ignores them. He is probably waiting for the sun to come up so he can have a good laugh, then he will launch from the branch and fly away with the mynas diving and swooping around him. He might be a she, I always think of a kookaburra as male. Flocks of birds: boys and girls; black, rustling, nagging crows neither one nor the other.
A better call does entertain facts getting hung in judicious knowledge, lending many new or proper questions reflecting simple texts under varyingly wide xylophonic yellow zones. Another biscuit can’t do except following great happiness, if just knowing limits may never offer peace, quietly resting since time undertook vacant white xrayed Yankee zephyrs. About being crafty deigns ever finding gifts hidden in jars; knotted lariats made nicely of papyrus queerly reed styled to uphold vindictive witches Xbox zoos. A blue car drives effortlessly forward greatly helped into jail knifing lime maxi-taxis near operational pride quest riding socially twisted uber Viking westies.
The woman, her brother and son sat down to eat roast chicken. The birthday boy tasted his food and said “That wasn’t too bad. At least it didn’t make me spew.” The cook looked up, surprised at the comment, and enjoying the look of wry amusement on the face of the young man across the table as he looked at his uncle. “You do mean the sprouts, don’t you?” she said for her son’s benefit. “Yeah,” said her brother, “I was worried I might spit it out.” Sprouts on your birthday would go down as a memorable birthday meal, perhaps.
The girl had long, wispy strands of hair, and the sort of hair cut that looks like it has been chewed by a rat. Her friend had two untidy bunches with green and yellow dye in patches, exactly as if a kid had done a finger painting in her hair. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds, and of course being young they could get away with it. After a good, long, appreciative look at this I noticed the person directly in front of me was actually a man. His neck was long and covered by a finely combed mullet.
Favourite times: walking by the river on a cool morning where you can see a pelican as big as a man and two ducks standing on water with wings spread in a mirror image; the place where the river is deep and the fish jump; a serious dog made comical by a pink spotted ball. Taking a shower; making coffee and putting the dishes away; wearing a scarf on the walk to the station and reading on the train. Not favourite: arrival at Central station; the hill at the start of the walk home at both ends of the day.
Another experience from a train. In ‘the zone’, tuned out from surroundings, I find a perch equidistant from other people and close to a hand rail. Eyes unfocused, I decide not to get my book out. I become aware of “Hey! I can feel your erection!” in a too-loud voice, followed by the giggle of a girl. I ignore them, and again wonder if I should get my book out… then I wonder at my ability to be unconcerned by these idiots. Before they leave one of the kids scrawls a tag on the newly painted floor of the carriage.
I was determined not to look at the kid’s handiwork, to not give him the satisfaction of noticing - even after he and his friends had left. (When they left a woman muttered something about stupid kids in a stage whisper that they could have heard, as they weren’t quite out the door yet… dangerous.) Anyway, I had to have a look. I mean, a freshly painted floor. I could smell the paint when I got on the carriage and looked for the source, and appreciated the effort. But, the reason I couldn’t stop glancing at the tag was because
It matched exactly (and I do mean exactly) the colour of the flats worn by the woman opposite. It was the type of blue that should have remained trapped in the ‘80s forever, or at least have been banned from appearing in clothing. I glanced up from my book several times to confirm the colour match (I was, by then, sitting, after a woman had pointed at a seat, smiling, as she left the train. I think she was happy to leave us to the entertainment). The shoes were bad. Thick, bright paint-colour blue (obviously) flats with neat white dots.
This delivery will be at about 10am. Could I please have administrator access for 24 hours to do this? Done. Hi there, It's 603244. Looks ok. Do you have any times for Wednesday on Pittwater? Departure & return etc. Again, sorry for my late email, I know this makes it harder for you. That all sounds fantastic. The computer & printer are at home. I'll have to call after hours. A copy of the payment request form went in this morning's mail to you. Just checking on a start time. Mmm, sounds good. Just a cheap one, basic, nothing fancy.
Sounds good. Yes, that looks fine. Enjoy. Thanks. The fridge is now in place. It will just need plugging in and some tape removed from the door. I thought I'd come up later and do that but if you want to do the honours. I'll keep the book. Please put it in my tray on the shelf outside the office and I'll collect it. Yes, this is fine for ongoing access. That's great, thanks. It's released. Nothing after 2pm tomorrow. What time do you think he will be leaving the museum? It's on the board. From The Good Guys. Bargain!
I hope to go upstairs later so I could call by then. I'm just waiting on the form being signed. 29th is fine by me! They're out at the moment so I'll get back to you in an hour or so. A 0900 roll would be good, or as soon as possible after that, say no later than 1000. Keeping you in the loop, I am engaging as extras, freelancers with gear. Tomorrow is fine (of course!) I'd say there's a good chance he's able to help you, or know who can. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.
It’s been raining for weeks. It’s hard to keep floors clean, not that it really matters. It’s hard to dry washing. That matters. Mould is growing everywhere, on walls, shoes and belts. There are more mushrooms and toadstools in the grass than I have ever seen. The dog is digging holes in the back yard as he is relegated there for a while. Today he gets back in to the veranda. That doesn’t provide much more shelter in wet weather but it’s better than only having the kennel. It will stop on the weekend, apparently. It has to stop eventually.
Confirming the extension of your contract. This extension has been entered into the system, and you will receive a contract letter for signing. I have some numbers to change to different cost centres and wonder what the deadline is for this to be done before the next billing period? Please see the attached list and advise myself of missing details. The attached list should have ALL NAMES. Please also advise the accommodation list is correct - do we need more/fewer rooms. The names below are ONLY THOSE REQUIRING ACCOMMODATION. I will contact IT & security about your account & pass.
I remember. Sorry I haven't been in touch! I'm really looking forward to it. If we leave here at around 6pm, do you think that would be a good time? You are so sweet. I bet that's not what you thought when you got my email ;) Great! I don't know why I didn't think of this before! If you'd like to send me a list of the Fridays you've done I can cross check, then we'll know all is up to date. I am very sorry to be so slow getting the information to you. Have a good night!
Praise the lord and hallelujah, and I have released them. Can you please tell of days off - you'd do this anyway, yeah? That's easier then! I presume it has been actioned. If not I guess contact the helpdesk. That's alright. I decided to let you get away with it this time! Seriously though, thank you so much. It is a definite help to me and the crew. Did she want different colours? Order a couple of boxes of each colour in the first instance if so and order more if happy with them. Ordering stationery shouldn't be this hard.
Yes, I'm scared. They don't make it easy for us. I'm sorry I didn't say good bye on Friday. I hope you have a great time and I for one will miss you! That makes sense. Thanks! I'm forwarding the original. Please sign the attached form and leave it for me to collect. I'll let you know if anything goes wrong with this plan. This is so I can track travel around the states. Excellent, can you please just add me then, with the ‘receive itinerary’ box checked. I'm not getting enough emails but this should ensure a few more.
Sorry about blank email, typing with mitts on. It's cold! Not without looking at the list. Isn't there a TV production one? Let me know when you are out. Also, I just remembered training further this fortnight. I'll leave it I think. Please advise if the attached invoice is fine to pay. The operator is overseas. I can send it through signed and with cost centre. I don't think I'll worry about that. I don't need that specific number. Thanks for your help. 3rd June is fine by me. Have fun in Cannes, I am not jealous. Not at all.
I have an old CDMA handset. I don't think the number is still active. Can you check if it is on the account? I hope you had a nice time camping! The above purchase order is appearing as a commitment against the current financial year. I have two chairs that are broken. Could you please arrange for the chair doctor to look at them? The weather is lovely now, no? The purchase order was for monthly instalments on a lease that has been completed. Please chase this up. Is this something you can help with? The commitment should be removed.
“Mum, I have a problem and I need some advice.”
What a fantastic thing to hear from a seventeen year old. Feelings of pride that he is so open and sensible, and that he feels able to approach me… followed swiftly by worrying images of what the problem may be… followed equally swiftly by an earnest concentration, and listening ear.
“There is a new game out at midnight. I haven’t reserved one, and I don’t know if I can get it if I don’t reserve it… or I could try to get one without reserving it… and it’s at Broadway…”
“What about school tomorrow… and you can’t take the bus?”
“I’m going to school. I’m a good boy. And buses are…” he petered out pathetically.
Deflated, manipulated, relieved, what am I? We went out and reserved two of the allegedly final three at the Metro, taking care of the first two problems: he is guaranteed a game, and Metro is easier than Broadway. Third problem solved: I drive the boys to the Metro at 11.30pm, visiting the place for the second time that day in trackie dacks, hoodie and assorted mismatched clothes suitably warm for the sudden unseasonably cold weather.
I fitted in perfectly in my leisure wear, topped by then with a beanie and coat. After wandering around the game shop for a while I left the boys and sat outside in the deserted food court, watching the crowd assemble for the midnight release; mostly young men and a few young couples. One guy nodded with a smiling “hi” to me as he wandered off to fill in some time before midnight. A fellow devotee, he may have thought. The boys heard a guy – likely the same one - say “congratulations” to someone who had just bought the game.
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