Monday, April 27, 2009

Gone and come back..

I went away for 10 days.

I did this:

1. Wrangled four wonderful friends and one wonderful husband. Not at the same time.
2. Cooked an amazing cake, an amazing risotto, and some amazing marmalade. Yes, I DO have a strong ego about cooking, don't I?
3. Slept, and slept, and slept. Lots.
4. Didn't get a horrible chest infection in spite of leaving with a toxic sore throat *boggles*.
5. Did excellent texting with my darling dorter.
6. Enjoyed lots of sea and forest views, and scents, and rain thereon, and wind above. It was grand.
7. Watched a small boy happily eat sand. Nom nom!
8. Learned two new knitting/crochet skills. Yeah!
9. Didn't really miss email, computer games or Facebook. Sacrilege, but true.
10. Dreaded coming home to no Maccy, but did it anyway. Came home to Wendy, who was delightful. Never underestimate the velvety purrfection of a small black whirlwind.
11. Made the house instantly cosy with the first fire of the season.

I did a whole lot of other stuff, like walks, and singing, and fixing furnitures in the old house, and measuring windows, and thinking I should get on with the painting but not do it. And dusting up to parent standard. Except I stopped halfway cos my back hurt. They coped (they came down to take over the house when we left). Hi dad!

Do you notice a major omission from that list?

Go on, look harder....

Yeah!!!! No doctors, chemists, physios, snake oil merchants or allied health care of any type, kind, sort or quantity. WHAT A RELIEF.

Note to self: do this more. And more...

Today brought to you by lingering eau-de-coast. a touch of coffee, and the smell of apple gum burning.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Easterage, festivalling, and quiet repose..

We've had "overflow guests" - friends who usually stay with a mate came to us, cos the mate's new bathroom is looking very spiffy but has no actual plumbing. Tricky to manage dry showers at the best of times.. our guests spent truly amazing amounts of time (their stamina!!) at the Folk Festival, and in between times ate satisfyingly large quantities of the food I made in a big splurge of cooking on good friday.

We also spent time at the Festival, M more than me. I had no energy thurs/fri/sat morning, thanks to a change-of-weather hed of deth. Honestly, my body is so sensitive I'll have to resort to shorter lists of what isn't a problem, and soon. Weird. The time I spent at the festival was as usual divided about equally amongst music, food and crowd-watching. I'm always amazed at the numbers of middle-aged women who sport the most eccentric and generally rather ugly outfits. I guess it's just that silly-hat-and-mad-stockings kind of vibe which makes it happen. And yes, *I* bought a hat. A rather tame, teal-green crocheted almost-beanie but no pom-pom. I have my limits.

The music I enjoyed the most was a group called Vardos, from Melbourne, which is a trio of gels who play Romanian /Hungarian /Latvian folk on a violin, piano accordion and double-bass. Very good, very clever, and also very funny, because the violinist is a natural clown, and plays up to the music and the crowd quite shamelessly. Fun..

My favourite food was the Spanish potato tortilla, which was served with a pureed salsa of herbs, vinegar and onion. Very, very good. I returned on Monday evening for another serve but sadly they had sold out of every speck of their food. Told you it was good.

Now I am having a quiet couple of days preparing for a colonoscopy on Thursday. Erk. I've never had one before, but have watched (uneasily) as various close friends and rellies have gone through the process. I'm apprehensive but apparently I needn't be. I'm not so sure - it's a very unnatural thing to do, is all I'm saying.

On Friday I hope to go to the coast with the Good Wimmin again, for quite a few days of coastal repose, eating, walking, bonding, textile-age, and probably some well-considered shopping. I think we have enough time to do a day trip if the Wimmin are of a mind to do such a thing. Maybe up to Kiama? Or the blue/black/raspberry farm? We'll see. At least one posh dinner is on the list of must-dos. I'm just looking forward to being near the sea, in the eucalypt forest, and the peacefulness.

We are still mourning our dear Maccy, hearing squiks and seeing shadows. But we are more resigned to his loss now. I go out every day to sprinkle some petals or catnip on his grave, and say hello. Our other cat, Miss Wendy, has taken to sleeping on the bed with us most nights, which we find very comforting. A bed without a cat! Sacrilege. She is no tamer, but during the night can be heard sitting and having a little purr to herself. Nice.

Today, and many days previously, brought to you by the delightful aromas of fresh earth and gardens, thanks to some very good rain over the last 5 days. Even the very dusty plastic cover on the garden table is looking shiny. As for me, I am continuing my love affair with Jo Malone scents. I'm torn, totally torn, between her Amber and Ginger cologne, her Amber and Lavender body cream, and her Vintage Gardenia cream, which is truly, deliciously blissful. Try it soon, lavishly, and see.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Quiet silence...

Still feeling very subdued... there's a biiiig Maccy-shaped hole in the house. Small reminders of his huge purrsonality follow one after the other. Sprinkling petals on his grave helps, a little.

Still receiving messages from around the world, literally, such kind words. Stunned shock from friends who can't see email regularly.

We know he was a very special kind of angel. We like knowing he's still around dispensing good karma and felinitude. His voice can be heard in the distance, asking for fud or expwessing outwage that the doors won't open. And the purring!

I just want him back. I may have to change the photo at the front of this blog, I don't know if I can bear to keep seeing it.

I knew from very early days, that parting from Maccy would be very difficult. The grief and sense of lamentation is so strong ... nothing mere about this puss. I guess it will ease ... somehow I owe it to him to keep him close in my mind, to somehow go on thanking him for 12 years of sublime companionship.

Today ... there is no today. Just a blur of time since last Saturday when we laid him to rest. Great sadness..