one of those nights.

i inhale the rich smokey essence of my 12 year aged scotch whiskey as it draws ever closer to my mouth, in the cool glass. its a quiet night here, and i am making the most of it. i'm fighting the patriotic urge to switch on the tv set and watch the football game between warring states, knowing full well that that would ruin the solitude and silence here felt. so instead, i'm going to bake something, maybe a few things. i have some girlfriends coming over tomorrow night for some crafting and making, and i want to serve sweet treats and goodness so we can fumble away the night with happy hearts and bellies. I think i'll craft some of that chewy caramel corn, and some pretty strawberry iced cupcakes (with special Hershey's strawberry syrup).

it will be a nice evening - one with jazz playing on the long player, whiskey in hand (still) and quiet service to friends.

a.

rainy weekend at home

this weekend has been one of indoor quietude. not quite like that quietude that Wendell Berry encourages, of stillness, sans technology and open ears to the birds and the trees. (we live in suburbia, up the street from the coal train line and just over the hill from the steel works - there isn't much of that quietude 'round here.)

but, instead, we've stayed in bed longer than usual, drank more cups of tea than usual and explored new areas of this, our 'new town'. as the rain fell yesterday we took the northern distributor to visit some of the nicer northern suburbs that lay between the towering escarpment and the rocky coastline. we huddled under the leaky umbrella and our hoods, watching some mediocre waves roll over the famous Sandon Point. it was my first visit to the famed break. it was pretty beautiful, with the deep inky seas, rolling white horses and voluptuous clouds above.

today, i laid in bed again, keeping safe from the chill and read some of my favourite blogs. after a trip to the corner store i starting baking; some of the tastiest ginger cookies that suit this melancholy weather perfectly.

a.

some words from another time

i found this funny old thing while pulling out a heavy book (on Contemporary Painting in Poland, no less), from the book case. i wrote it back in 2008 - many moons ago, while drowning the friday afternoon sorrows, alone, in a pub, in a town i didn't belong. its a pretty sad story.

THE PUB 

(the title is questionable i know - at least i can say it reflects...well something.)

at the pub, people speak,

of footy clubs and winning horses,

games they've won 

and tales of losses.

amoung the chatter and the bellows,

others wait for tucker;

throwing down schooners,

of all things light, dark and bubbly.

finally on arrival, 

the food can silence the crowd.

munching and swallowing 

until all stomachs are full.

the crowd is loud again, at the pub.

the food is over and

schooners almost dry.

a long hard day, is waving goodbye.

me. 2008. nelsons bay.

raise a glass, if you would, to all things aussie...and bogan. this ones for you em, to go with my effy.

a.