a love story

Oh, there is so much to catch up on. K quit his job, and I've just started five weeks of humungously overdue holidays. Last week we bought an old Landcruiser (I officially own two cars at the same time - woe, the excess!!), which we've been furiously kitting out - K built us some nifty storage boxes which double as a base for our swag, so we can sleep in the car if it's cold/wet. We've restocked on all the tools and camping gear that went AWOL in the back of Barry. We hit the coastal road south in about ten minutes! But that can all wait. First, I'm going to recount a little love story. Because it's worth sharing... even though the photo-feature is already out there.

Flashback, January 2009. I was house-sitting in the boondocks of Brisvegas. Minding a demanding cat. Had just returned from Gippsland to city life, and to 'work' after my little wanderings and forced spell of introspection. I spent nights cooking tofu, web trawling, and feasting upon the entire Love My Way boxset. During the web trawling, I *fast forwards a little bit* happened upon a guy. Who lived in a bus called Alice. Looked like a bushie. Spoke a desert language. Created amazing landscape photographs. And was migrating from the outback to the coast, just south of Bris-vegas. I emailed him. He emailed back. I emailed him again... and all went quiet.

I moved into a little house on the 'Hill. I went to work, went to yoga. Kept cooking. Unpacked a little. Relished domesticity, and being still.

Fast forward six months. Not looking, I found him again. And this time he wrote back, many times. I counted eleven thousand words in one week. So I invited myself for a visit! We met on Sunday 12 July 2009, at Tallebudgera. We had a nervous cup of tea in the bus. Then went kayaking on the creek. Further upstream than he'd ever been. (Unknowingly, I almost killed him - we'd left without food...) After emergency first-lunch back in the bus, we wandered into Burleigh for fish and chips on the foreshore. At dusk we had beers on the beach. And at twilight, walked back through the Burleigh headland, where our path was lit by fireflies. Dazzling.

It was a huge day. Driving back to Bris-vegas, my whole being raced. I had some mad inexplicable conviction that I was either going to marry him, or he was going to break my heart. Later that week his brother moved in around the corner from me. Of all the burbs in Brisbane! So we met for the second time, and it was sealed.

So much has happened since then. It has been as difficult, at times, as it has been wonderful. We got over some early speed wobbles. And moved on to the greater challenge: longeivity. I can only think to explain it like this. Imagine a forest of really old trees. They survive because they've put down deep roots. Maybe buttresses too. And they need space from other old trees, for the roots to absorb the goodness from the earth, and for the leaves to draw sunlight and moisture. Now imagine, if two of the trees tried to share the same space. How to refashion their trunks to fit the other? How to each get what they need from the world? Maybe it's not a perfect analogy, but it makes perfect sense to me.

A few weeks ago, we went back to Burleigh to celebrate our first year. (We count the day we met as our anniversary.) Sunrise at Currumbin Rocks (above). Beachside carousing. And fish and chips on the foreshore. Where we made it official. The betrothal, I mean. Can you believe the Relics already knew?! And with that, completing the loop on that mad, knowing conviction.

the love shambles

I have spent the past month hanging out with the most lovely boy in the world.

It has been a wonderful and very surreal month of kayaking, ocean swimming, firefly enchanted forests, beautiful language, riverside lolling and mysterious worm holes that make whole evenings disappear in a love-hazed puff. Seems though the gremlins are a-lurking... wreaking a series of injuries and acute befuddlement upon us. Let me recount the woes…

We went walking at Springbrook and K sconed himself on a tree branch (he is tall and it was dark), leaving a nice red welt on his noggin. I (horrifyingly) gave him a very nasty burn with a hot water bottle. And then (repenting?) got a little too close to the oven while making pizzas and scorched a finger. Early on in the piece, I broke out with a dreaded cold sore… and, despite utmost care and restraint, almost gave it to him... eek! I have lost two pieces of treasured jewellery in his presence (an earring that belonged to my Nana and a ring from Fes). The other week he lost my glasses in Alice the bus (his home on wheels) and was so guilt-laden/worried about me driving in the dark without my 'eyes' that he drove me home from Alice’s digs at Tallebudgera. To Bris-vegas. And nearly killed us both when his foot got stuck on the accelerator (or a water bottle rolled under the brake... we were both a little too traumatised to be sure which) and we nearly ploughed across a median strip and through an intersection at about sixty clicks. (We pulled the bus apart at least three times looking for the specs. He toyed with the idea of applying an angle grinder to a small hole near the wheel arch that may have swallowed them. The glasses turned up a week later INSIDE an ugg boot. Of course.)

Gadgetry is also awry: my TV had a hissy fit, the laptop is exhibiting terminal early warning signs and supermarket conveyor belts simply stop functioning in my presence (after I have loaded my shopping onto them, naturally). We also aroused a few neighbourly eyebrows after he locked his keys in Barry (the Landcruiser) at my place and we attempted to break in with a coat-hanger. In the dark. Oh. And this week my watch stopped working. Which may explain those mysterious time-stealing worm holes.

And. I have also inexplicably become an overnight ditz at work, muddling up all over the shop. Whilst being inducted to the secret squirrel world of the Queensland Cabinet.

Anyway, this week has been clear of funny stuff. Am hoping we've seen the back of the gremlins. ;)