Day 11: Octoportraits

Luke bought me this little octopus finger puppet at a fair on the

 Isle of Wight during our recent holiday. He isn't always sad. 

 Drunk octopus

Startled octopus

Day 10: Not Monday, pink trunk, Richmond adventure

I thought it was Monday when I woke up at 6.00am and heard Luke getting ready for work. I groaned and rolled over and then through the sleep fog I realised it was Sunday. Woooh. That is one of the best feelings. (He works every Sunday. )

Look at the colours in the trunk of this eucalyptus tree a few blocks from my place. I haven't edited it in any way. It's pink!

It caught my eye when we drove past yesterday and I went back today to take a photo on the way to the supermarket. It was going to be a quick trip for cheese for a dish I planned to make for dinner, but I ended up roaming the backstreets of Richmond with my camera for well over an hour. I just can't resist wandering down streets I haven't been down before.

Upside down, Miss Jayne 

I found some old signs and since I haven't started my ghost sign blog yet, I'll share them here.  These are from several buildings comprising the old Rosella Preserving Co factory on Balmain Street, which is now a corporate complex. I've never been in this part of Richmond before so I was rather thrilled to unwittingly find it.  

The eponymous bird

 The main building

 I love how badly peeling the paint is

[Something] Pty Ltd Engineers on Goodwin Street

Excellent street art

I watched the Bill Bryson lecture this afternoon. A quote:

What a wonderful and wondrous place [Earth] is. What a lot we have done with a little atmosphere, some water, a warming sun and a few other healthful ingredients. Look around you next time you are out of doors in the open air and marvel. I beg you. Marvel at the staggering inventiveness, the elegance, the beauty, the utility, the exquisite...glory that is life on earth. It is hard to believe that anything could ever be better than this.

Oh, a quote by English novelist Margaret Drabble that I found on Pinterest, which captures what I was saying the other day about the appeal of my uncertain work situation:

When nothing is sure, everything is possible.

Day 9: A delicious din and surprise flower

We went to a new place for brunch today - Moth to a Flame on Swan Street in Richmond. It was so noisy I felt like I had supersonic hearing. People laughing, crashing cutlery and crockery in the open kitchen, a banging door and coffee machine noise combined to make me never want to come back, even before my meal arrived. But dammit! My blueberry pancakes with lemon curd, creme fraiche and citrus sugar were scrumptious, and my hot chocolate was just about perfect too. There were several other dishes on the menu that took my fancy so I might just endure the cacaphony again. 

I'm also going to make my own lemon curd and citrus sugar. I love lemony things. 

My spathiphyllum is growing a flower, which is most unexpected because a few months ago the poor thing was so sickly I thought it was going to die. Once I realised what was wrong with it I managed to revive it, but I didn't think it would flower again because they can be finicky about flowering at the best of times.   

Luke is on the way home with kebabs for dinner. Yum. I'm starving. 

Day 8: Excited about small things again

Do you remember last year I went to see Bill Bryson deliver the Kenneth Myer public lecture at the Town Hall? Well, I did and I really enjoyed it and I've been wanting to see/listen to it again since. I'm excited to have found the lecture on YouTube and I can't wait to see it again. Something for my weekend to-do list. 

I know that I'm getting back to my normal self after my period of gloom because I'm feeling excited about small things again. When we were in Paris in August waiting in the queue to go up the Eiffel Tower Luke asked me if I was excited and I answered honestly: No. 

WHAAAAT? I knew it was bizarre to be in Paris for the first time and not feel excited - to not feel even remotely exhilarated like I was on my trip to New York - but that's how I felt. Then a few weeks ago I was researching a day trip to Maryborough in central Victoria and I got a little bit excited about visiting a tiny village called Bung Bong, which has an abandoned church and an old bridge. Eiffel Tower? Whatever. Bung Bong? Wheee!  (In the end we forgot to go to Bung Bong!)

I had a miniscule spider scrawling on my had on the way home. Its body was smaller than a pinhead and it had to climb over the tiny fine hairs on my hand. People on the tram must have wondered why I was so fascinated by my own hand. 

My iPod battery hit empty just as I arrived home tonight. It's the second time that's happened in the last week. 

Day 7: The excitement of uncertainty

There's going to be major changes at my work early in the new year.  I won't go into detail because there hasn't been an official announcement yet and it's still meant to be very secret squirrel. I don't think I've mentioned where I work, but I'll err on the side of caution and button my lip for now. 

In any case, these changes mean there is some uncertainty in my future. I find the uncertainty bothersome* because it's not that long since I've started to feel really settled into the job, but it also has some appeal. It's a little bit exciting not knowing for sure where I will be this time next year. Imagining possibilities, thinking about opportunities is more interesting than thinking about the status quo (except when I think about the possibility of being unemployed for an extended period).  

My ambivalence about the uncertainty ahead reminds me of this poem (or verse from?) The Blooming of Madness:

* I enjoy using the word 'bothersome'. 

Day 6: Flicks with the chicks

I went to a Flicks with the Chicks session at Gold Class tonight with Bertie, Lauren and Rosie (another friend from my old work). The session includes the movie, a glass of bubbles on arrival, finger food and dessert, and a showbag with girlie stuff and edible things. 

We saw Enough Said, with Julia Louis-Dreyfus and James Gandolfini in one of his last movie roles. I enjoyed it -  it's not hilarious or ground-breaking, but it's sweet and likeable. 

Southbank was still buzzing when we left the cinema. Warm weather will do that. It got to 30 degrees C today and is still 24 as I type this at almost 11.00pm. 

I'm really looking forward to bed. Goodnight. 

Day 5: Mindfulness through photography

I had a "me too!" moment yesterday when I read an ABC News story about a new book on mindfulness through photography. Capturing Mindfulness is written by Sydney author, illustrator and public speaker Matthew Johnstone, who says buying a camera helped him to overcome years of depression. 

I went out and bought a camera, and in many ways I believe this camera saved my bacon. It was through this camera that I realised the whole concept and idea of being in the moment...Photography at the end of the day is really about stopping, it's really about seeing what's in front of us, it's really about stopping and focusing and it's about capturing that moment.

Me too! Well, in a way...Photography hasn't saved me from depression, but it has had the pleasing side effect of taking photos is that I take more notice of my surroundings. I see more. I actively look for things. My experience of my world is richer and I feel more connected to it. It gets me out of my head and into the world. Writing Gleeful contributes to this too, of course, since I need to take notice of life's little pleasures. 

Matthew Johnstone is also gets excited about being in industrial areas where there are rusty pipes and peeling paint, so we have that photographic obsession in common as well.  

I was meant to have them

I've had my eye on a pair of boots in an online shop and every now and then I check to see if they are on sale. This afternoon they were still at full price, significantly more than I would usually spend on shoes. Then five minutes after I checked, the store tweeted about their 20% off sale (I don't even follow them - it was a promoted tweet). I couldn't resist. Now they are mine. Hopefully we get a little more mild weather so I can wear them before autumn!

I'm 34

I was quite pleased today to learn that my fitness age is younger than my actual age - 34, rather than 41. That was my result when I said I exercise two to three times a week and go "all out", which I do at the gym. When I put in that I exercise at a lower level of intensity nearly every day, as I do when I walk to work, my fitness age is 38. Either way, younger than 41.