Back on the Pumpkin Patch

To my surprise I am actually really loving being back at my parents' place. The beautiful New Zealand weather, space, healthy food, having my own things back like books and clothes and computer, the chance to sit on the lawn and think about where I should be heading next without too much pressure. And free food & rent... of course.

The best thing is that I am getting along with my parents really well. Finally we are relating to each other like adults. None of that nagging, interrogation and advising anymore. I think having young kids (my four young cousins) around here really helped them to realise that I am a responsible and independent adult in comparison - the stark difference between a 27 yo and 13 yos. Its sad that its what it had to take, but its good that they are breaking through that barrier in their head. I love spending time with my cousins too, very sweet and lively kids, each all blossoming into their own unique person. (Well, apart from the hiccup this week... if you read on to the bottom.) I have no qualms about continuing a strong and supportive relationship with them for the rest of my life. At the end, when everyone else is gone, they'll be my family.

It was great spending a week in Canberra. Seeing all my mates again and doing all the things I used to love to do, tying up loose ends and all that. It basically made me feel so much more comfortable about leaving things where it should be left and moving on. For good. Closure, if you know what I mean. I just left in too much haste last time, not enough time to figure out whether it was the right thing to do. But this time I think I feel much more happier with my decisions. It did confirm to me though, what a great place Australia is to live. Lively, pulsing, excitement, art, ideas and colour... I really think I still need a good stint in Sydney or Melbourne in a few more years I think.

Good old Hamiltronn. I went into town today, to a temping agency to get the ball rolling to gets some part time money coming in. I can type 72 words per minute, would you believe. I could even print two pages out of ten on reverse order and draw a border around a table. It does amaze me how a town can change so little in the space of eighteen years. Its just that I hardly recognise anyone here anymore. Except for this girl from school who now has two toddlers. I used to be able to call every second person by their second name on this street - that was ten years ago. I know this cos that was when Sway by Bic Runga came out, and they were still playing it in Max today. How I survived that long in this town is still beyond me. I did still find some adequate stimulations I guess, but perhaps my time was so suffocating that it still acts as my excuse to lead such a gypsiesque life style.

There is no doubt that my parent's place is kick-arse though. I wish they'd lived here when I was younger and not lost in suburban gossip. I love this farm. I love the river, how deeply green it is in the gully, the fluffy carves poking their pink noses at you, the abandoned duck nests on the bank, the lilac and white fox-tails looking so buttery in the late evening setting sun, having a beer and smelling the thick earthy air, watching a plane land, wearing a T-shirt...

The Gin Chair

I have a confession to make. I really really really want to bundle mum and dad off to the Bay of Islands to a batch when they are ready to retire and take over this place. I'm going to make it into a cafe-gallery on the first floor and a Bed & Breakfast on the second. Pump off the concrete slab out the back and put in a huge wooden deck, extend the kitchen (but keep the vintage fire stove), make the girls' room into an ensuite, add a few more carparks, hire a proper gardening advisor, computerised watering system... Serve coffee that's actually worth drinking and cakes that are actually worth six bucks a pop; sushi from Cambridge; and have lots of weird-shit type art exhibits; invite the town for openings serving the best champagnes and cheeses in the world; a $5 surcharge to sit on the Gin-chair under the lemon tree; a biannual music festival down by the river with the Finn brothers; Cats, peacocks and monarch butterflies running amok in the garden. Definitely no dogs. If they want, people can get married here. That kinda thing.

And bringing out banana smoothies to German backpackers sunbathing nude in the backyard.

Great Things This Week

• Howard's gone - woo hoo
• Driving
• Rediscovering trampoline
  

Shit Things This Week

• My 15 yo cousin running away from home and having to be on the "Picking-up-the-pieces Committee". Little shit.
• Ink on my insurance claim receipts completely faded
• Still feeling bloody upset about Cupes
• Lost a set of photos I thought I had downloaded two years ago.... eeeeeek!!!