Georgiezine

Recently I found myself engaged in conversation with a publisher called Josh in which I explained how I met Nat at a women’s empowerment group. Soon after, she moved away but contacted me about staying at my place, which was five minutes from the ocean, cheap and shitty, but perfect for navel gazing.  I barely knew Nat, but thought she'd be trustworthy, and she house sat.  I returned from my trip to find a note explaining she felt as though she’d got to know me by looking at my scrap books, paintings and books.  “And trying on all your clothes?” guessed Josh. Nat did openly confess to this, which had surprised me! (We don’t even take the same size). When Jules house sat, he wore his dad's clothing rather than wash and wear his own, which is why a 25 yo picked me up from the bus in a fluorescent pink silky tracksuit.  Josh said I should be writing my own stories/book/magazine/zine. What I should have said is "I do", but instead of mentioning my blog, I focused on my ...

"Behind the garages of this country there are tires choked by grass" David McComb. . Have been listening to The Triffids, after returning on a long road trip, through murray mallee country, and many a place with tyres choking in the grass. It seems again, as though Australia is made up of the red dirt interior, or dreams of ocean swimming, wriggling free in deep water but fighting the powerful ocean waves. Last weekend I swam around the Semaphore jetty. It was probably the highlight of my week, month even. On Monday I visit a port town, busy with the industry associated with shipping out minerals via the sea. There is a long jetty for the cargo ships to be loaded from. When the plane circles in the sky above, you see it all, the deep turquoise of the sea, the red hills rolling everywhere, and the busy industry of the waters edge. I’m always a sucker for the working wharves, the portside culture, the downmarket seaside life, loved the vulgarity of Brighton: lace curtains,...

I made a fortuitous call to Rachel on Saturday afternoon, and scored an invite to join her and Adam at the Semaphore Workers Club that evening, where Dave Graney was playing as part of the Semaphore Music Festival. As spring weather had finally started, it was good going out in the evening, though no less of a battle to try and work out what to wear besides blue jeans (managed black pants, red top, striped short sleeved jacket). I love the workers club, have written of it before-an old villa with bay window overlooking the beach, large terraced garden at front, huge room with 2 pool tables, memorabilia laden walls and now there are refurbished bathrooms which are fabulous! We met up with 2 guys, who initially I assumed to be a couple, due to them both being decently dressed, and over 40 with no obvious wedding bands/wife references (told my husband this, and he sadly agreed that neat men, of a certain age, get cliched). Anyway, they were both fun to meet and talk to, so the 5 of us c...

So Mr Right always tells me it's okay to just keep going back to the same place and really get to know it, every square metre of it, like the back of your hand. And thus, I know the regions of Glebe, Newtown, Annandale, Leichardt, Petersham and Enmore best of all in Sydney, with knowledge also of Summer Hill, Strathfield, Concord, Croydon, Erksenville and Stanmore. On the weekend, I travelled around with Splatty from the airport to the Sham; from the Sham to Enmore along back streets like Salisbury Road. I listened to her stories of households in Newtown (the house where she and Mel didn't talk to each other; the office block that Osh turned into a home; the one bedroom flat that her parents and step siblings camped out in for a week). I tracked the shortest way back from King Street to the Sham in the taxi in the rain (best $10 I spent), and tried to picture in my head where the train lines were, where the main roads were and where the delightful local high streets where. ...

I love my family. They also can exasperate me with their little foibles. Why does the guest bed require 6 pillows, including 2 over sized european pillows, and multiple cushions as decoration? Sleeping in it requires deconstruction. And the wardrobe and six foot high chest of drawers are crammed with stuff which can't be given away which means I don't have anywhere to put my clean clothes. Plus my Mum locked me into the house today. Minor complaints aside, I am enjoying the visit, though bemused that I have achieved "good daughter" status, as the sensible mature wise one that has out stripped (for now) her older sister. Some kind of mental revision of opinions against observed behaviour has taken place, and I am reaping the rewards with lots of verbal encouragement, affirmations, and admiration. Like any sibling, of course I am lapping it up, basking in it (sorry sister). It's quite deserved. Speaking of siblings, I was part of a conversation between ...