Today I had a workmate’s barbecue to attend, and although I normally am really anti-social and avoid these events like the plague, I felt it was probably important for my workplace politics that I attend, seeing as I was invited*. But it did make my heart sink a little, to give up my Sunday when I wanted so badly to go ride my bike. Then I realised I could be the Girl who has it All, by planning a nice long ride down to St Kilda via the Capital City Trail. It was 15km each way, in glorious sunshine, with a lovely breeze, and the most perfect way to spend a couple of hours on a beautiful Melbourne day. Particularly coming back, I was overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude and joy. I am so lucky to live in such a lovely city, and to have such great people in my life, and I’m so glad to have Gary — thank you a million times, Fleur, for giving him to me! I was smiling to myself thinking how he must have been so sad when he was relegated to being a dusty has-been, and then how happy he must be to have been adopted by me.
And my beloved CCT! I loved the many patterns and lines formed by the bridges I crossed, they made me think of my grandfather who always complimented my photography, although it was essentially just wannabe Cartier-Bresson rip-offs at the time. And thinking of my grandfather also made me very happy. He passed away a week or so after I came back from a year in China, but I had just spent that last week with him, locked away in the darkroom most of the day and night, coming out armed with racks of prints to dry downstairs in the living-room windows. Our relationship was strongly based around those black-and-white prints, and although I have given up on my photography, and sorely miss my darkroom days, I frequently take pictures “with my eyes” and think about how much he would love them.
These are not very good pictures, but I think of them more as pictures of pictures I would have taken if I had a camera, a darkroom, and my grandfather. So here they are, without any further introduction or justification.
This is the Albert Park Driving Range. James and I came here to drink beers and hit balls the day that we got together. James was really sick but he came anyway, because we both knew that after many months of being just running buddies, we were about to become more than that. We didn’t ever go back to the driving range after that, but I still always smile and think of how hopeless I was at hitting golf balls.
The quality of the pictures just keeps degrading as they are taken with one hand whilst riding along on my bike. I only dropped my month-old iPhone 5 twice. I really should get a protective case before I smash it up.
I had barely got home, that Rebecca and I decided to meet up for dinner and it was back onto the bike. I am so happy to be 10 minutes’ ride from Fitzroy now… Gary has changed my life! (Even though he’s screwing up my knees big time — I tried to run down the street and my knees immediately exploded with pain like they haven’t in over a year). We covered a total of 47km this weekend. Nice one Gary ❤
*in the end I had a nice time at the barbecue, and I’m glad I went. Nobody gave me grief about not drinking alcohol or eating meat, although of course I was very discrete about both, and that is what tends to put me off socialising the most, when people notice I’m not drinking and start being obnoxious or awkward about it…