Saturday, July 22, 2006

feeling ill on a Saturday night

We've had our week of rain and mud - where the back legs of your pants get the wet treatment from stomping over puddles in the asphalt. These past few brilliantly sunny days have seen the locals stop mid stride and smile into the sky. Store owners stare wistfully out stocked front windows and people have generally slowed down to look around. The chilly/sunny days are the best kind - without the sweaty humidity of 30+ days and finding your arm stuck ungracefully to your handbag. They give you a taste of spring without the hay fever and a reminder of nostalgic summer days spent playing under the sprinkler without actually needing to do it.

My Friday was gloriously spent sketching gum trees with the kids. They stretch upwards forever, these things - with their grey branches finished off with olive green leaves that look like giant pom poms from a distance. I salute the star shaped rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves with a hand to forehead sheltering the eye and muse over their slightly bent and twisted sihouettes. Pardon me, but there is something magnificently amusing about the sudden outcry of "oh crap, where's the eraser?" interrupting the gentle rustling of wind over the extensive grounds. But maybe that's just me.

Today, another sunny one - making itself known through the blinds this morning, and me stretching under the covers before settling back down to sleep. Feeling very ill and so a day under the doona sipping tea is the medication. Later, disturbing a thoughtful moment the phone makes its familiar rattling noise against the clock radio and I pick it up to read the message. EM is in the head hospital again, "feeling quite solitary". I pull the covers up and roll over again. August is going to be a prickly one, I can feel it approaching like a shadow without a human anchor.