Poppalina

Post #500

When cash-strapped, housebound and aimless,

  

a spot of Home Beautification can be Just the Thing.

Meanwhile, on the Domestic Front

Shushu, laid to waste with One of Her Heads for the best part of 3 days, rose like Lazarus today and soldiered on, if only because the prospect of periodically opening her eyes to the monotony of a bedroom ceiling, only to wince, curse the Universe and all that it manifests and then hotfoot it back to unconsciousness, was enough to bore her to death.

So.

The yoga room, while not entirely unscarred by recent events, is nonetheless clean, tidy and ready for action.

 

The floors throughout the house are -  for the next 5 minutes anyway - clean enough to eat from and

The studio is up, running and making me think - albeit vaguely - about crafting again. 

 

 

I owe this last one to Sandra. The way she and Bogi ripped through that studio renovation positively shamed me into action.

Hmmm... and here was I thinking I was on a Low Achievement Jag. Funny how the mind works; double vision can play tricks on your perception, making everything look twice as hard and only half as good.

In other news, the figs, while still as hard as bullets.....

 

are starting to smell.....

well....figgy.

 

Stay tuned, Fig Lovers. It's all going to happen very suddenly.

Memories.....annihilate the corners of my mind

Intense business, all this looking into the past.

In the last fortnight, I've been obliged to confront every last memory landmine that lurked in the dark recesses of what has proven to be an almost bottomless house.

Trust me when I say that each one packed a punch.

Good times, bad times. I've discovered that it makes no difference. All weigh equally heavily, and I appear to share with Gore Vidal a natural reluctance to relive any of it (turns out that his Palimpsest is an excellent companion at such a time, and I highly recommend it).

The things I've given away this week would make a grown man cry. Third generation heirlooms. Books inscribed for me by my mother. Fifty boxes that collectively represented the emotional remains of the love of my life; sorted, culled, tearfully repacked, and shipped out, never to be seen again.

To commemorate this somewhat gruelling week, I would like to share with you one of the happier memories; my best friend Sarah's wedding. My daughter (pictured here in the Baby of Honour matinee jacket that some of you might recognise), startled by post-ceremonial applause, has just finished Hitting the Note, only allowing herself to be distracted by the flowers just long enough for this photo to be snapped. The look of serenity on my face is, no doubt, actually one of sheer relief. That kid could turn your entire universe to white noise when she wanted to, and would, without the slightest hestitation.

 

Nostalgia has never been my forte. I distrust sentiment, seeing it as a perilous and slippery slope, the end of which will see me up late and drunk, singing loudly and tunelessly to the Clancy Brothers, as did my father on a regular basis.

That said, I would give a great deal to kiss those stroppy, fat little baby cheeks again.

And this photo, not surprisingly, will be coming with us.

You call that destashing, do you?

Watch, admiringly, as Shushu drops a ute load of stuff off at the op shop.

Observe the momentary expression of serenity on her face, because she now owns less and some it was very hard to part with but she did it anyway because she had to.

But wait.

Whatever is Shushu doing?

Oh NO!  She's having a Quick Look Around!

Watch sadly, shaking your head in disbelief, as Shushu buys more stuff.

 

 

Silly, silly Shushu

An Enchanted Calabrian Faraway House

Too dark to show you anything much inside New House.

We pause only to note the eye-gouging height of the light fittings, suggesting the prior occupancy of Southern Italians,

(an assumption that would be perfectly corretto).

 

We stop even brieflier to admire the kitchen tiles, because Leah, for one, would love them...

 

And then dash outside, before it hails again, for a Proper Look with the camera.

   

 

Exploration, so far, has revealed

1 apple tree,

2 apricot trees,

1 lemon tree,

1 olive tree,

1 bay tree, 

an exceedlingly healthy fig,

and a rosemary bush dating back to the time of Moses.

I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

That spidery, leaky shed through the trees is about to become my still spidery but hopefully not so leaky studio.

I found a compost barrel so full of eggshells, that it made me wonder...

Could it be?

Is it possible?

It could.

It is. 

Please allow me to present the Oldest and Weeist Chook Shed in the Whole World Ever.

   

At which point I just died and went to Palazzo Heaven.