the gum tree
Life in boxes. I feel like I’m almost on the brink of liberation (if the definition of brink is something actually quite wide and cushioned, something only giving the illusion of imminence and drastic, instantly unrecognisable life-alteration).
Today we started moving into our storage space. It’s quite dinky. And while the unit is already about a third full, we haven’t really even made a dent in our junkyard of an abode yet. 10 or so boxes of books, about six crates of records, small furniture, some photo albums, blankets and old winter coats. Now I want to put everything in boxes and get everything the fuck out of here.
We walked home from the storage place via about 10 homeware stores and antique shops (Simon was pretty tolerant, although he does have a tendency to gravitate to tacky animal trinkets, drum loudly on any available surface and give shop assistants the evils when they take their sweet time wrapping gifts). I also had a most pleasing croque monsieur along the way. Then, on the home stretch, we found this on Hill Street. The gum tree. I’d never seen it before. Kinda gross but in a nicely colourful and intriguing sort of way.
I also took one or two more photos from our walk, but then Simon told me that it was actually a bit uncool to take photos of people’s sitting room window displays with the intention of posting them on the internet. So I sent them to the recycle bin, feeling like I’d overstepped the thin line between casual weekend rubbernecker and sweaty-palmed voyeur.
We unearthed some strange stuff today. Mostly a lot of bad old volumes of poetry.
It is a nice Saturday night in the bedroom. It sort of looks like this.
Although that’s false advertising, really. The moon isn’t full tonight, and the sunset isn’t as pinkly powdery. It is the view from my bedroom window, but it’s just not the view right now. I couldn’t be bothered moving to take a new photo.
I thought I should come clean about that. Or maybe I should have just pretended. What’s better – the truth or a good story?
Filed under: clutter, found stuff, New Zealand landscapes, photos, poetry | 2 Comments
Tags: clutter, diary, gum tree