seasonal woes – and colour

Vibrant colour from the callistemon in the front garden

The theme for this year’s Girls’ Night In, the annual Cancer Council fundraiser organised by a former colleague, was Wedding Party. I reckoned I could mange that, hand on heart and no trouble at all, simply by grabbing something from the wardrobe. What I wore to Eldest Son’s wedding, a very long time ago, fitted the theme: the jacket is glittery and glamorous and – most importantly, given the present chilly evening temperatures – it has long sleeves. I declared myself to be the Mother-in-Law from hell, stating that, “None of those women is worthy of my son!” It’s never a very serious business, although the underlying cause is dear to all of us. And the food is always like the guests: fabulous.

That was Saturday. On Sunday, the menfolk were out on motorbikes, making the most of the unexpectedly summery weather. I had an appointment on the other side of town, not far from my long-ago workplace that burnt down after I’d finished there. No satnav assistance required and a pleasant day to be out and about.

And then, you know, the weather having finally – we thought – turned warm, it (re)turned (to being) cold with torrential downpours and allergen levels that saw YoungB suffering hay fever like you wouldn’t believe. But the tree is up in Vic Square, the pageant happens tomorrow and my email inbox is all but overflowing with seasonal offers of discount gin (among other things) and enticing specials on thises and thatses.

My email inbox also receives occasional family history gems. Recently, receiving a couple of historic photos dating from 1917 saw me diving into all sorts of online records to find additional information. I also dived into my hardback family history volume to cross-check dates. While I was about it, I updated the electronic version of my family tree to reflect the results of my researches. It’s satisfying to be able to do that diving without having to worry too much about what else might or might not be getting done while I’m so engrossed; or wondering whether I should call it quits so I can be compos mentis for the office tomorrow. No need 🙂

And meanwhile, the seasons are rolling. I hope yours is being agreeable, wherever in the world you are.

 

deep gratitude

Leisure enough to observe and enjoy the mesembryanthemum

After a busy weekend – plus lots of laundry, of course – I was less than bright and bubbly come Monday morning. It was fabulous to know that I could either roll over and go back to sleep if I wanted to, or simply take a few extra minutes then grab my coffee after everyone else had finished. Some sort of mix generally has more appeal and I don’t wand to miss out every morning on having coffee with the menfolk.

The days are sunnier and warmer (I say optimistically, though we’re also enduring low temperatures and torrential rain – but the ground isn’t as chilly as it has been and the daylight hours are definitely longer). The airborne nasties are making their presence felt and pollen levels are now indicated on the official weather site. Our noses are sufficiently sensitive to know that antihistamine ingestion would not be out of place. Sneezing inside a full-face motorbike helmet is yukky and dangerous. That happened to YoungB a few years ago and, as much all of us laughed when he told us, there’s no doubt it’s best avoided.

I can head out to long lunches or afternoon tea dates with friends and other family members, and casually spend the afternoon walking around a new housing development before hopping on a train to come home. All during working hours. And I can have late nights on the weekend after social outings that I was able to accept very last minute, because I don’t have to worry about being at my best the following morning for work.

I’ve resigned my union membership, which feels rather strange after so many years of solidarity. Without that ongoing financial commitment, I can take out a subscription to an e-book platform. I know that some of the lighthearted titles I have on my – lengthy! – book recommendation list won’t be available through the local library and I wouldn’t buy them myself as p-books. Some platforms have certain titles available free with a monthly subscription, making that cheaper than buying and therefore a cost-effective option. I just have to remember not to stay up all night reading, simply because I know that I don’t have to be up early next day. It’s probably not good for my blood pressure.

I have yet to start any Christmas crafting. The pageant is looming and, although I’m not there to see it from the office window, I’m sure the tree is going up in Vic Square. Another year is drawing to a close. We’ve had highs and lows and the pandemic is not over, but we’re all still here. I’m grateful for that, too.

And, you know, sunshine or storm – some days both! – we’re warm and secure.

 

not that dirt between your toes

They keep pushing the dirt around

ETA 24 June 2022: I’ve only today realised that the tags didn’t work; so this is not really a new post, just a little update. Sorry about that!

Recently, our office provided a course that allowed us to refresh our mental health first aid qualifications. I’m often humbled by quite how personal some of the shared information is, because you’re putting your trust in other people’s good faith. Some might argue that the nature of public service positions means we’re already vetted and considered capable of maintaining confidence. Yeah, that too. But we don’t spill those sorts of beans most of the rest of the time.

The facilitator had a few good ideas for managing our own wellbeing in these still remarkably strange not-quite-post-COVID times. One piece of advice was to reconnect with bare earth and grass, something where you can really wriggle your toes. Pavers don’t count. Ideally, if you can manage it, make it a barefoot walk on the beach. Great idea!

However, given the time of year, my reconnecting with nature is more likely to be going out and hugging my lemon-scented geranium. I do it most days, and the perfume lingers for hours.

And when you need to get up from your desk at work, there’s a well-trodden path to the window from which we can watch the construction. There’d be no joy in wriggling your toes in that dirt. Once the new building is finished and we can put our toes over the threshold of what’s being marketed as a fancy shopping precinct, it will be a good trick to remember just how much concrete and dirt they took away, and how much concrete and dirt they brought back, and how we lined up with our noses and toeses against the window to watch it all. No grass involved.

 

today’s view of things

Dust! It seeped into our building

Today has certainly been weird, in terms of weather. It was balmy enough this morning – considerably warmer than yesterday morning – but the wind was brisk in every sense of the word. I wore a jacket to work, in the expectation of needing it most of the day; and I did. A colleague elected not to wear a jacket, because she was anticipating that the maximum temperature would be sufficiently warm. It might have been, but it was forecast to be that temperature around mid-afternoon when we’d be inside and beavering away at our workload and therefore unlikely to benefit greatly from the warmth. She toughed it out.

The forecast also included mention of rain but not of dust. The dust, however, was severe enough to close roads, because of poor visibility and potential for vehicular collision, and elicit the issuing of a health warning to anyone with respiratory problems. The rain came along after the dust had almost cleared but didn’t last long.

All the fairy lights on, and dust mostly gone.

I wonder what tomorrow’s weather will bring?

 

vertiginous

From where I sit, the crowd looked like ants

Closer to ground level, the crowd gathering. Photo: Tony Lewis/InDaily

Occasionally I share photos taken from my workplace, such as today’s top photo. It’s a long way down to the ground, you’d probably agree, and there are people in the office who won’t come near the windows. I have more problems with confined spaces than I do with heights, so I don’t usually think twice about going to the edge of the office to check out what’s going on in Victoria Square.

Today, for example, there was a March4Justice, calling for an end to sexual harassment and gendered violence in workplaces. We could see that it was a large crowd, and we could hear the chanting. Let’s hope the message delivered by these nationwide marches makes a difference.

 

honesty tempered by pragmatism

As lovely as ever, and almost enough to make the journey worthwhile

On Sunday afternoon, when one of the retail folk to whom I was speaking asked if I was pleased to be going back to work the next day, I answered honestly and said, “No.” But I acknowledged aloud that I’m fortunate enough to have a job and correspondingly grateful. YoungB is back on the job-hunting treadmill, although his contract doesn’t finish till the end of March. But you’re foolish to leave looking for the next job until you finish this one, and – sadly – in today’s climate, foolish to complain about the job you’re in, no matter how merited those complaints might be.

During the downtime, my office’s work systems had a major upgrade, one we’d known was coming. Many personalised settings simply went west and now have to be redone. I’ve had to redo mine three times in two days, as well as move to a different desk. The move was utterly unnecessary, but puts me between two other people instead of quietly at the end of a row. Now I feel a bit as if I’m the naughty child being moved to where the teacher can keep a better eye on me. I always did sit close to the front of the class, but only because I couldn’t see well enough to sit any farther back! Nowadays it doesn’t matter where I sit, the computer is the same distance away.

All the same, the view out the window is still very attractive, and it’s hard to complain when you can rest your eyes on that every now and then. I hope you have something similarly restful for your eyes 🙂

 

that didn’t last long

Goodbye, not farewell

There I was back at the office for all of two weeks, and had almost settled back in with my own mugs, teapot and cutlery unpacked and back in action. Yesterday it was home again, home again, jiggety-jig (on the bus, with all of that in a bag, if you don’t mind). Today the announcement came from our Chief Public Health Officer: six days of hard lockdown then a further eight days characterised by significant restrictions, in the hopes that such drastic, early action will prove a “circuit breaker” to a COVID-19 outbreak.

This cluster started on our side of the metropolis and now includes several buildings perhaps a block from my CBD workplace, as well as what reads like half of suburban Adelaide (and is, indeed, a fair chunk of northern and western areas). There are good reasons why that is so, but it’s a little frightening. Several schools had already been closed, and for the next six days all others are to close, too. YoungB is back WFH. As he said, they had lunch at midday in a relatively usual manner, and only half an hour later all bets were off.

The CPHO said that this strain of COVID-19 is breeding “very, very rapidly” and people with no symptoms can spread it. “Time is of the essence,” said the Premier. “We are going hard and we are going early,” he said. By and large, although there has been some ridiculous behaviour with regard to toilet paper, most of us will do the right thing and not protest too loudly: better to deal with six days of staying home in order to stop it in its tracks now than carry on as normal and have to suffer through a much longer-term lockdown.

I don’t personally regard it as suffering, as I think I’ve said before. I am happy to be sheltering safely in place, with my immediate family also safely sheltered. I am aware, as ever, that this comment comes from a position of privilege; but I am truly grateful to be working from home, despite the problematic technology. Any Victorians who have just come out at the other end of their long lockdown will appreciate that it works, but it’s hard mentally and sometimes physically; and it’s hard on the heart. I can’t speak for all Australians, but I know very well that a large number of us dips our lids to all of you as we say, “Thank you, and well done. You and Dan Andrews are our heroes.”

South Australia was doing well, and we who live here were increasingly optimistic that Christmas might include some gatherings with extended families. Schoolies had been cautiously approved. Dates and artists for next year’s Adelaide Festival were about to be finalised. The Bs had signed up for a weekend motorcycle tour. Now, like YoungB’s workplace lunchtimes, all bets are off. It is unlikely that Christmas will be with anyone but immediate family. Schoolies almost certainly won’t happen. The Bs’ motorcycle tour – for all it was merely an overnight stay and home again – won’t take place. If we do the right thing now, perhaps the Festival might still take place. Who knows?

So here I am again, sending out hugs to everyone from the safety of my crowded little home office, with the last of the day’s sunshine fading from the window an arm’s length away.

If you are similarly looking at renewed lockdown or restrictions, I hope you’re able to survive with the least possible hurts.

We can do this.

 

one simply forgets

I’ll be able to see the tree this year 🙂

Recently, I worked a few days at the office. The office has not moved but my team has moved within it. Our new location is nearer a window, so the perpetual gloom of which I’ve often complained is no longer a factor. It will take me a little while to learn the rhythm of that location, and to re-learn the rhythm of dealing with buses and people. I’ve been home for such a long time that, genuinely or wilfully, I had forgotten.

I had forgotten how noisy and smelly the main roads are during rush hour. I had forgotten how bumpy the bus ride can be. I had forgotten the homeless, trying to keep warm on these bitter mornings. And I had almost forgotten what fun it is to have YoungB as a travelling companion. He’s almost as full of cheer and silliness as he was in his younger years. We can still have a good giggle together, which helps make the journey more bearable.

The daylight hours have lengthened, as is to be expected at this time of year. I have turned over the last block of months on my perpetual calendar. This is the last third of the year, meaning that Christmas is looming. And you know what will be going up in Victoria Square before you can say Christmas? It will be The Tree. And now that we’ve moved, I have a prime view.

I hope your WFH and/or returns to the office have been better than expected, no matter your general level of forgetfulness 🙂

 

as clear as it gets

Almost back to normal, before the next round of parties 🙂

My expectation is that the spaces won’t remain spaces for very long but that they’ll soon disappear under the next lot of merry-makers.

And, if I am still in my present employment, I’ll be playing bocce there soon. As rough as you might think that surface will be – you’re right! – I can assure you it will be a vast improvement on last season’s surface.

May all your surfaces be suitably smooth 🙂

 

 

between the madness

The tents are still there, and they’ll soon be replaced by others in readiness for Festival and Fringe frolics

TDU is over, so Victoria Square is beginning to resume something closer to its normal appearance. Soon, however, Fringe and Festival madness will see it disappear again.

Great view from the window, though. Almost makes it worthwhile going to work!