shamo: (Default)
I walked from East Melbourne to Parliament station today. Through Fitzroy Gardens. Past the spot where Chris and I had our family engagement bash. Well not really past the spot, rather I altered my route so I passed within site of the spot. I realised where I was when I was half way through the park. It was one of the last times I saw dad either not in his house or not in hospital. I remember dad perching himself in a wheelchair (it's arguable as to whether he really needed the wheelchair or not....) next to the park bench. Sports coat on over a faded and hole-riddled polo shirt and a pair of faded jeans that were too big for him now. His feet in the sandals that were the only shoes he could wear owing to a badly fused bone in his big toe (or something....)

Passing through the park, turning away from the spot, I realised I was skirting the Peter Macallum Cancer Institute. To go past or not...? My feet seemed to decide for me, as they took me to St Andrew's Place, and I passed in the shadow of that white cubic building, knowing nothing had changed within. I know what the inside of that building looks like now. In many ways I wish I didn't. In other ways I'm glad I was there as much as I was.

I don't know what the point of this post was, just that places and memories are always intertwined for as long as either exist.
shamo: (Default)
I still get this odd feeling from time to time that I am missing a conversational companion. It has been made more acute because much of the conversation of recent times has been on the topics of soccer and Australian Politics.

You see, Julia Gillard was a Victorian solicitor before she was a politician. This means my dad would have held an opinion on her, however ill-informed. Ergo, conversation would have been... And the world cup? Well we always talked about the world cup when it was on.... As inane as I may have labelled such conversations in the past, I miss them.

That's the reality of the situation. And there's not much I can do about it.
shamo: (Default)
I got him in, but it was too late.

Menelaus caught the bad end of a car. It happened just as I was heading in to Chris' gate. Heard a thump, saw a limping cat dart into someone's front yard.

Made the decision to look at what had happened....

Checked the fur - white. Phew.

Went around into the front yard....

Ginger cat sprawled out not moving.

Checked the tail - shaved with surgical marks....

[livejournal.com profile] mstakenidentity's cat was there.......

So I brought him in and told her.

Nothing else to do.

Now he's wrapped in in a towel. I'll help her bury him tomorrow.

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May 2013

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