Wednesday, August 1, 2012

"You are so far around the bend...

...nobody knows where you are living."

- the words from the song by The Nationals.

I just heard this song on the radio. It  made me laugh.

Yes I live around the bend.

 One minute I am on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor like a nineteenth century servant - using my elbow grease to clean the kitchen floor (and please don't think my house is spotless and that I clean like this everyday).

Then I'm drying teabags and storing them to use later to make teabag books and curtains -like some eccentric artist with hair that is unkempt and ripe for birds to nest in. No my hair isn't like that - but it is how I imagine myself - complete with a long dress and apron, because that perfectly matches the floor scrubbing.

 I am matching book swappers up for the big book swap (which has taken off more than I could have imagined - and is an utterly joyful thing, though it can do my head in trying to puzzle out who goes with whom). If you don't know what I am talking about please look at the previous post. You might like to join in.

I'm walking dear Jasper and writing poetry about the bees in the golden wattle, rusty barbed wire, green pastures with lambs staring at us and gravel paths. I'm eating left overs for lunch with my son. I'm writing letters the old fashioned way. I'm reading books - because they are like my life blood. I'm sitting in prayer and journal writing. I'm cooking a meal on our slow combustion fire. I'm cutting my hair because my daughter doesn't have enough time at the moment, and it is driving me around the bend (hahaha).

I'm doing dishes, and pulling weeds and cleaning out the kitty litter, and editing a manuscript. I'm folding up washing. I'm writing out a list of questions for the next interview here. I'm Facebooking. I'm making afternoon tea for my daughter....

I live around the bend. Where do you live?

Asta x


  1. Many bends from you, dear Asta, but close enough to enjoy your beautiful blog post today. That was a joy to read :) So delicious!!

    I'm at Mum and Dad's beach house at Phillip Island for a few days of writing. This is my place where I come to revive. However, I did nearly get my head knocked off by a ferocious mama and papa plover duo. They're protecting their nest just outside the laundry door, so I'm keeping well away. Instead, I'm savouring the last of the sun as it sets over the bay. And sending pictures of it home to my Beloved who's let me run away for a few days.

    Earlier I dipped strawberries in chocolate to take to the local historical society's annual 'show and tell.' I'm very excited about this event! Later, I'll make a pot of peppermint tea and read more of 'The Art of War for Writers.'

    Sigh.., good day. Rare... but very good.

  2. I'm living down queer street today... or maybe it was up the creek without a paddle - there's a place there for me, too. I don't even want to write about my day - somehow it just wouldn't be therapeutic. I'm going to sew some flannelette sheets for my youngest son instead. His bed is jammed up to a window and the cold is lodged in his mattress. Hopefully the hum and rhythm of my little sewing machine will soothe my jittering thoughts back home to where I live.
    Lovely to hear about where you live today, Asta!
    Catherine Earp

    1. Poor Anonymous Catherine Earp. I am quite sure the fact that you still can't be 'you' on Blogger would not have helped your day. I'm impressed you left a comment regardless! Queer street - oh I have been there lots of time. I love the image of the 'cold lodged in his mattress' though I am sure your son doesn't! You build a lovely image of solving the problem with the loving hands of his mother. Bless you Catherine Earp. You are truly lovely! Asta x