I’ve observed myself before when I’ve had to deal with loss and the subsequent ‘life goes on’, so I know a thing or two about what’s good for me in that situation, and what’s bad.
Good: go through Mira’s toys, medication, pillows and blankets immediately and make a washing pile, a donation pile, and a keep pile.
Bad: clutch Mira’s pillow and sob into it (I only did five minutes of that one, so I’m giving myself a gold star).
Good: clean up – no particular room, just go around and throw away things that never get used and tidy, tidy, tidy.
Bad: go around and focus on the absence of Mira under our desks, on the couch, in front of the fridge staring me down for food or between my legs when I’m cooking waiting for bits of vegetable to fall to her level.
Good: keep up habits. That means on Saturdays, try to make it to that little Brunswick op shop that’s only open for three hours. Look for a buddy to come along.
Last Saturday buddy turned out to be Suzie. Now Suzie is really delightful: she has the tiniest face and ears and a pixie haircut. She can hoola-hoop, like me she loves to photograph decrepit houses, and she has a very contagious laugh and enthusiasm for life. So going to little Brunswick op shop with Suzie: good. Very good.
Even better: spotting a lemon tree with plenty of lemons hanging over the fence (score!) and the ensuing conversation on how to make them ours. It may or may not have involved a debate about climbing on Suzie’s shoulders – and my weight. It ended in Suzie’s resolve to hit the gym to withstand my 55kg, or bring back a stepladder next weekend. We want those damn lemons (seriously, don’t they look good?).
I get even more excited when I see maps of a different kind, that organise information in a way you’ve most likely never seen before. These are maps of Paris and Melbourne, and they must have been as fastidious to draw up as they are amazing to look at.
Simply put, the maps are about photography: the blue points represent pictures taken by locals, the red points pictures taken by tourists, and the yellow points are the wild card (their takers couldn’t be put in either categories).
Eric Fischer, I applaud you.
Look at more cities in his Flickr set (he’s prolific!). You will also find out what 4 and 30 correspond to.
I want a wall of these. Bad. Maybe of cities Christian and I have been to and lived. I can see it. Brilliant.
(Via Far Out Brussel Sprout).
If you go in and notice that clock missing one of these days, it’ll mean I swiped it*. But for the time being, it’s still in its place.
*Can you blame me? It even says ‘Pour manger bon’ on the face! Objects that speak French to me are as good as mine, I say (if they are beautiful and simple that is, like Clock here).
With talk of my knee surgery last night I suddenly remembered I hadn’t posted photos from our little trip to Industria on Gertrude Street from a few weeks ago.
Me: If it’s really cold I am going to complain.
Christian: How hard are you going to complain?
Really, who wants to go out after dark in the cold Melbourne winter? Who’s with me?
I discovered last night how pretty things look when photographed out of focus. It took me long enough: I am short-sighted and I like the look of things (including me!) better without glasses or lentils (read: contacts – same word in French which I just use out of habit).
I took a lot more because I got excited, but they all pretty much look the same :)
If you want some umbrellas (or lamp shades?), they are in Richardson Street driving towards Albert Park, and they were there as of this morning.
I love this place, and the coffee is so good!
I forget what it’s called though…
Wagamama, Flinders Lane.
My hands are blurry in the first image because I’m putting pawpaw ointment on them!