Winter funk

The surface of reality

There’s a feeling I get sometimes
It’s like being in a bubble, looking out
Muffles the sound and blurs the vision
Like a drone hovering over the city
I’m floating on the surface of reality.

Skimming across the water
A casually tossed stone in slow-mo,
Rippling out in circles against the bank
Like a boat rocking, it makes me heady
I’m floating on the surface of reality

Can you see me? Can you hear me?
I’m separate from the world,
My mind is on another plane
All your noise and colour cannot touch me
I’m floating on the surface of reality

Well, procrastination has set in and this week I have achieved nothing. My poor attempts at drawing stare at me mockingly from the easel, no words written in the novel either. Even the housework has been neglected, as I have sunk into a winter funk, variously watching the rain patter on the windows, or revelling in the moments of warm sunshine that stream in our north facing glass. Movement consists of getting wood for the fire and making food as needed, binging movies on newly discovered MUBI (arthouse international movie streaming service) and season 3 of the Handmaid’s Tale on SBS on demand. I did take a few photos in the garden, which I have added to the gallery on the right.

I have planted our winter veggies, so I guess that’s an accomplishment. Let’s see if they produce anything. There are some local events I am thinking of attending this week, so that might help to break my cabin fever and get me out and about.

We did venture out on the weekend to watch Melbourne storm win against the Knights in rugby and go to our friend’s Adelaide themed birthday party, with an overnight stay in town and then brunch in Puckle Street Moonee Ponds on the way home.

I recalled that the last time I was in Puckle Street would have been about 50 years ago. This was one of the many places my Auntie Nancy used to take me when I stayed with her in Glenroy on the school holidays. My Mum worked, a bit unusual in those days, so I was sent off to Auntie Nancy who didn’t work. She would take me on all sorts of excursions all over Melbourne by public transport, (these were the days of the red rattlers and W class trams). We had a wonderful time. She would plan out the visits to places of interest, taking the weather and transport availability and timetables into account, not sure how she did it in those days before the internet and Google maps. Places I recall visiting included Como house, the botanical gardens, the zoo, Myer Music bowl, the city for shopping in Myers, Puckle street for the market, the museum (the old one), and the National Gallery of Victoria when it first opened; I recall being mesmerised by the water window and the stained glass ceiling in the great hall. We also went to Queen’s park in Essendon, where we fed the ducks while we ate our lunch.

The thing about going out on excursions in those days, was that you got dressed up in your best clothes and best shoes. For me this was always a kind of torture, because my best shoes were always uncomfortable, and we trudged around all over the place, easily getting our 10,000 steps (an unheard of concept back then) and I would invariably end up with blisters and sore feet, often persuading my Auntie that if I went barefoot it would be better, which she allowed when we were in the gardens so I could walk on the soft cool grass. Its funny to think that we managed to find our way all around Melbourne city and suburbs without any digital aids, not did we carry water bottles, and we didn’t die of dehydration. 😊 Sometimes we would have a sandwich in a café for lunch, sometimes we took our own packed lunch or if we were in the city it would be Coles Cafeteria. I recall the red vinyl and chrome stools that would swivel around. One day I ate a bowl of canned tomato soup for lunch there, spent the next half an hour twirling around on my stool, despite being told not to, while the ladies chatted, and then promptly threw up my lunch all over the floor. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sympathy. Lesson learned the hard way.

My memories of those times are very happy, I think because often it was mostly just the two of us and she would ask my opinion on things and include me in the planning, she would encourage me to be the one who asked for directions or pay in the shop, because I was shy, and she wanted me to learn to be more confident. She also tried to get me to be more adventurous in my food tastes and introduced me to so many new favours and dishes than I had at home. The overarching thing that has stayed with me was how much fun we had, and how much trouble she went to so she could make my holidays enjoyable experiences. I doubt that I ever thanked her properly. Auntie Nancy is gone now of course, but she left me wonderful legacy in those fond memories which have stayed with me for life.

And so another week begins, heading into the winter solstice, a time for hunkering down and hibernating, I seem to be doing that well. at least.