26 January 2009


From the deck you can see the city hiding over the hill.

Old school kitchen with frog-garden lampshade

First loaves and crafty storage

bedroom window and the gabba through the louvres
(the lights are a bit lost in the clouds)

11 January 2009

a home on the hill

After two years of boarding, backpacking, house-sitting, couchsurfing and sailing, I have finally found a place to call home. For at least the next six months. Yippee!! I am giddy with the thrill of all the new nest offers, because:

1. There will be no more living out of bags. And no more chronic disorganisation, as I begin to consolidate my worldy things currently dispersed along the eastern seaboard. While the commitment is sort of scary, there are loads of reasons it is good to know where you'll be next week/month. Like signing up to herdshare.

2. I have inhabited other people’s spaces for what seems like a very long time now. I’ve cared for needy poodles, post-traumatic german shepherds, crazy cockatiels and various cats that a) leave surprise puddles outside your bedroom door in the morning and b) wail like a muezzin at 4am, 4.15am, 4.30am, 4.50am, 4.59am, 5.19am and 5.30am daily, thereby inducing learned insomnia, a haggard appearance and general functional paralysis. It’s time to reclaim my sanctuary.

3. Sanctuary is an apt description of the new digs, which were acquired in hasty fashion. As in, I went out yesterday to look for lodgings, saw two places and negotiated a lease on the spot for the second place. Very unlike the girl prone to prolonged opportunity-cost deliberation of sandwich fillings etc. And very out of character, given the one big flaw of the place is an extreme lack of kitchen bench and cupboard space!

But… this concession may prove worthy for the improved space-time continuum I hope the apartment will bestow. It has big light rooms with high art deco ceilings, kick-ass breezes, and a big deck AND courtyard with killer views. And I can ride to work (and the markets and the local cheapie flicks), thereby reclaiming my commute time (and cultural engagement). Which also leads to a karmic side-story about how I stupidly gave away my bike two years ago during the material cleanse, and now look set to inherit a surplus bike from a friend... at the risk of numbering a chicken, I believe ‘woohoo!’ is in order. I figure I can scour Vinnies for a stand-alone pantry and outdoor table for the deck, which can double as a food prep bench... though those breezes may foil my creative vision.

Photos will be posted with due fanfare once the cocktail glasses are unpacked.