Feb. 1st, 2013

gillpolack: (Default)
Today was strange. Just strange. No other way to describe it, really.

I was so tired after the last few days, that mostly I slept and caught up with more little things that needed doing. I managed to repair my fridge (I'm very proud of this, for I am the home handyperson of most person's nightmares ie I'm much better at breaking than repairing) and even air my place. This latter was possible due to rain. There are more fires, but they're not blowing my way, currently, nor are they even nearby**.

My heart goes out to the people in the new fire-region, though, for the rest of us have had rain (and the more northerly of us were flooded, which includes family and friends though as far as I know, all my family and friends had power outages but that's about all, which was a series of reliefs as I heard about each and all of them) but a whole swathe of Victorians and New South Welshpeople are still in the middle of a big dry and big dries and fire seasons are dangerously combustible. I'm most worried for the people in the Mt Hotham area, right now.

Honestly, Australia isn't normally this exciting.

My lists for this week mainly concern things that need to be done before my bathroom and laundry are made halfway decent again. It's not a home-beautiful approach. It's more 'Get someone in who can fix the complete tile and wallpaper disaster in one room and the cabinet and paint disaster in another and sort the worst of the kitchen to boot.' I have to put a lot of things away or out of the way, but I also have to finish up with a bunch of work.

In fact, I don't have a list for this week. I'm tired of lists, I think. I'm writing that which must be done on small bits of paper and each one will be ritually torn to shreds as that task is complete and by this time next week, of paper there will be none. It's not exciting, but it makes my life feel as if it's not mundane.

I think the confinement-to-home is making my brain murky, despite the best efforts of friends. My friends' help means I do not lack for sustenance or DVDs and lo, I had a social trip out last week to see The Hobbit, but it's still pretty strange to be indoors for such a long period and so I make very small mischief.

The very small mischief started the week before last, and builds up pace the more stir crazy I become. I've been rearranging all kinds of possessions into tiny tableaux. Boozoo*, for instance, is being threatened by an angry robot (actually a pencil sharpener). No-one notices these tableaux except me, so I can set them up in odd corners of my lounge room with no ill effect. My Pyramids of Mars pieces are misbehaving dreadfully, though,. The Doctor is sitting on K9 and watching three mummies disco wildly.

And now I'm dreaming of other small mischief. I think I'd possibly better get to bed before I do anything so mean-spirited as put an arrowhead through my dancing dead, or cover a little wizard in foaming handmade lace. Oh dear, I forgot. The wizard drowned in lace the day before yesterday. His face peeps bravely through white cascade...

One day I need to retrieve my miniature gamelan orchestra from my storeroom. That would open up so many possibilities.

I think the moral of this story is "Never leave Gillian on her own for too long."

Why am I doing all this and not writing? That's the thing. Many hours of pain, alone, at home, no teaching - I'm doing all this and I'm writing as well. Though not today. Today I slept. I also had many phonecalls from very interesting people. As a result, there are no new tableaux today, which is sad. My friends distracted me from my vile path...

*a present from the publisher of Illuminations from the book tour - he's a Louisianan alligator of maybe 2 inches in height, drinking a margarita and I love him dearly

** When the wind changes direction, though, I have to close the windows. This is now, I fear. Still, I got to air my place! And it's lovely and cool outside.

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