Tusmore Park
Yesterday was spent in Tusmore Park. Gretski remembers hanging out there after school, being hunted down by teachers and getting in trouble for smoking in her school uniform. Funny that someone I think of as being inherently techie and city centric, has a "nature" memory of her school rebellions, and formerly country bumpkin moi, has the Coffee Pot in Rundle Mall.
Tusmore Park was a 20 something discovery, provided by the first of our friends to have children. It's a lovely park, with tennis courts and a wading pool covered by shadecloth, large jagged stone and rock bridges crisscrossing first?second? creek. It's the sort of place I would have had no use for in my early 20s, even if I'd been aware of it, I wasn't mature enough to sit down and be quiet in a lovely public suburban place, I needed company to share it with, and we all preferred to be in pubs and cafes and out at night.
Yesterday it was where 6 of us ended up, plus 3 kids. The Lions book stall was held in the adjacent church hall and I picked up a copy of Monkey Grip, allowing me to continue working my way through all her publications (My Hard Heart, True Stories, Childrens Bach are done; Honour & Other People's Children is next, can't be bothered re-reading The First Stone; The Spare Room is too recent to re-read). My friends then borrowed my son and browsed through the stalls, one picked up a book on penguins because she liked the cover... and William Gibson's Pattern Recognition. Suspect the latter is a book that I like in theory, like the concept for, may even like the first few chapters, but would never bother finishing. Didn't manage to get very wet in the pool-it's only 30cm deep and my son was having none of it, kept screaming when I tried to wet his feet. It wasn't like last week at the Norwood Pool when he sat for nearly an hour, swishing around between my knees, resting his head against my belly, looking so relaxed that his cousin quizzed me about how many other times he had "been swimming".
We barbecued hot food, ate home made salads, drank leftovers from the fridge, it was very lazy, very easy and a very nice day. Afterwards we visited friends who had just shifted to a new rental house. Normally this involves moving into a house that isn't as good and/or more expensive, but they managed to get cheaper rent and a better house. They deserve the good fortune. Their new neighbourhood has all the quietness and hidden gem feel of kensington, it's a quicker run into town via Kensington Road and closer approach to the foothills. Their garden is deeper, squarer, more lush but less overgrown; their house has a square room lined with 3 walls of windows that overlooks the garden and is where they have set up their study. Whilst the room is a little hot for summer, it will hold it's own when winter comes. If you have the right sort of view, you can get so much done from a desk.
Tusmore Park was a 20 something discovery, provided by the first of our friends to have children. It's a lovely park, with tennis courts and a wading pool covered by shadecloth, large jagged stone and rock bridges crisscrossing first?second? creek. It's the sort of place I would have had no use for in my early 20s, even if I'd been aware of it, I wasn't mature enough to sit down and be quiet in a lovely public suburban place, I needed company to share it with, and we all preferred to be in pubs and cafes and out at night.
Yesterday it was where 6 of us ended up, plus 3 kids. The Lions book stall was held in the adjacent church hall and I picked up a copy of Monkey Grip, allowing me to continue working my way through all her publications (My Hard Heart, True Stories, Childrens Bach are done; Honour & Other People's Children is next, can't be bothered re-reading The First Stone; The Spare Room is too recent to re-read). My friends then borrowed my son and browsed through the stalls, one picked up a book on penguins because she liked the cover... and William Gibson's Pattern Recognition. Suspect the latter is a book that I like in theory, like the concept for, may even like the first few chapters, but would never bother finishing. Didn't manage to get very wet in the pool-it's only 30cm deep and my son was having none of it, kept screaming when I tried to wet his feet. It wasn't like last week at the Norwood Pool when he sat for nearly an hour, swishing around between my knees, resting his head against my belly, looking so relaxed that his cousin quizzed me about how many other times he had "been swimming".
We barbecued hot food, ate home made salads, drank leftovers from the fridge, it was very lazy, very easy and a very nice day. Afterwards we visited friends who had just shifted to a new rental house. Normally this involves moving into a house that isn't as good and/or more expensive, but they managed to get cheaper rent and a better house. They deserve the good fortune. Their new neighbourhood has all the quietness and hidden gem feel of kensington, it's a quicker run into town via Kensington Road and closer approach to the foothills. Their garden is deeper, squarer, more lush but less overgrown; their house has a square room lined with 3 walls of windows that overlooks the garden and is where they have set up their study. Whilst the room is a little hot for summer, it will hold it's own when winter comes. If you have the right sort of view, you can get so much done from a desk.
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