tin cans & feathers (frozen in flight)


It’s the height of the weekend and I’m feverish. Sydney Sam is here for the weekend and the boys are next door playing music. I’m sitting in the kitchen with the lights dimmed, trying to stop my eyes from streaming. I’m even struggling with my glass of wine, and my nachos have no real taste, so it’s almost a state of emergency.

Today I formed my winter reading plan. The other night I tried to convince Simon that my annoying habit of reading 20 books at one time (and only ever finishing about 33% of them) is a sign of genius rather than a flaw in my character. I just get a bit like a kid at Christmas, and then all my toys get discarded.

Dare I say it, but getting up early in the morning in the weekend is actually quite good. This morning (a Saturday, might I note), having gone to bed a fraction before 3am last night, I was in at work by 8.45. That’s a full 15 minutes earlier than my average start time during the week. I put in a solid couple of hours and was done by the time that I’m normally starting to think about becoming vertical. The day seemed to go on forever!

My winter reading plan is this. For April, no books over about 150 pages. Slim volumes only. And I can only read one at a time. (Although I am permitted to break things up a bit with poetry or some short stories.)

Right now I am reading Siri Husveldt’s The Blindfold. It’s very good. Goes quite nicely with my fever.

In no particular order, here’s the rest of the line-up for April.

Paula Fox’s Desperate Measures.

Re-reading Don DeLillo’s The Body Artist. (I nearly bought his new book today but a number of people have told me it’s no good.)

Paul Auster’s Travels in the Scriptorium.

Stephen Elliott’s My girlfriend comes to the city and beats me up. (I’m about halfway through – but it’s standalone vignettes, so I’m not breaking any rules – and have realised that I find S&M extremely boring to read about.)

Kate Camp’s The Mirror of Simple Annihilated Souls.

Bill Manhire’s Victims of Lightning.

There are a couple more, but they’ll most likely cross over into May.

These are the birds in the World Beauty store, taken through the window. They are awesome.

This week we went to dinner at the house of the woman who – quite by chance – designed my school summer uniform. We met Honey, her beautiful taxidermied emu chick.

Honey looked a lot like this.

In tonight’s web travels, I found this website: Frozen in Flight.

Today I bought a new wallet. It is bright green and made of eel skin. It is beautiful, and so nice to touch. I was out at a work dinner on Thursday night and my wallet must have fallen out of my much-coveted Lady Gaga bag. All my cards were handed into the Police, but not the wallet. It’s weird. It was a pretty unremarkable wallet and there was probably no more than $4 in coins, so not exactly a major haul.

Last night Simon and Sam were drinking Bear Beer. Simon is easily amused by novelty packaging. He used to insist on taking unusually dressed bottles of wine to dinner parties. His favourite was the jeans wine – a bottle that was covered in a denim skin. Fortunately I haven’t seen that one in the shops for a while.

Speaking of tin cans,  I snapped la morena today in the supermarket. It has been catching my eye for a while.

There’s something about it I like, maybe just that it’s colourful and a bit exotic. I wonder what she is thinking about. I also wondered what la morena means, so I consulted the cyber oracle and it means a coloured person. Who knew.

And as for cans closer to home, the Frizzell one gathers dust on the bookshelf next to our two-robot robot collection.

I’m going to go in a minute. I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself, to be honest, and here’s not the place for sulking. Mr America is coming around. I am going to find my way to the bottom of this glass and then find my way to bed, possibly via a hot bath.

I found the lampshade photo on my phone from last night. It’s not upside down. The lampshades are upside down! Obviously very intruiging to wined-up Friday night Katy.


the day before the last day, and some animals I met along the way

I got these photos of the sheep the other day in Hastings. They’re not real. Sorry to spoil it, if you hadn’t worked that out already.

It is the night before we shut up shop and go back to real life. Therefore I am putting off going to bed.

I am listening to Rufus Wainwright and getting excited about life ahead and the Arts Festival.

Right now Rufus is singing I’m going to a town that has already been burnt down. I’m going to a place that has already been disgraced. I’m gonna see some folks who have already been let down. I’m so tired of America. I’m gonna make it up for all of the Sunday Times. I’m gonna make it up for all of the nursery rhymes. They never really seem to want to tell the truth. I’m so tired of you America. Making my own way home. Aint gonna be alone. I’ve gotta life to live, America.

Tell me: do you really think you go to hell for being loved?

And so on.

Tonight it rained here for the first time in ages.

Here are some other animals I’ve met in the last few days. Not live animals, any of them. But not roadkill, either, although I must say it has seemed particularly abundant on the country roads this summer. I have to draw the line somewhere (and am trying to forget the poor dead tabby I saw the other day). 

Consider this a prelude to my upcoming post: Animals in Our Art Collection (it may or may not be capitalised, depending on how grand I want it to seem). Probably a week or less away, but don’t hold your breath. I have a deskjob to check back into, after all, and carnage may await me there. Not that I’m supposing that you – whoever you are – would be holding your breath. It dawned on me a while ago that quite a bit of our art features animals in some way. It also quite often incorporates accidental typographical errors (another post in itself, I think), quite coincidentally. It’s sort of become a quirk of our collection.

These charming beasts adorned the walls in the pool room of a wedding we attended a couple of days ago. The leis are a nice touch.

That reminds me, I haven’t yet taken a photo of the letterbox gorilla. We must do that tomorrow before we leave town. All will be revealed. Letterbox gorilla has lost his santa hat though. I left the photo shoot a bit late, although we pass him often. Funny how you get complacent about the things you see everyday. And then one day their santa hat is gone, and it’s too late to do anything about it.