(no subject)

I am not having a good day. A day that started with being awoken by a dozen crows up a gum tree at 5:30am. Crows were dispatched with a whacking stick and sleep resumed, leading me to hope that the day’s remainder may be kinder to me. Silly me.

Upon my arrival I proceeded to brew my regular pre-work cup of tea, whence I received a minor laceration from the spout of the water boiler. Bugger. My fortunes remained similarly bleak at lunch time. I was preparing myself a delicious morsel of pesto and tinned salmon on grain bread, however on spreading the pesto I noticed an unusual white glob amidst the green. A sniff test confirmed my suspicious: the pesto was past-o, and now so was my bread.

Undaunted, I relocated my failed sandwich to the bin and instead determined to place the flavoursome salmon upon the crackers my desk-drawer contained. Whilst this decision did prove a gourmet delight, it also led directly – via my gammy finger – to said salmon decoratively festooning both my keyboard and my fine self. Class.

Removal of said salmon from my person proved suitably successful. The keyboard, however, is a different matter and the charming odour of tinned seafood lingers over my workspace, providing a gently fragrant atmosphere reminiscent of a cattery.

Still not quite satiated through my lunch-time endeavours I decided henceforth to abstain from finger food and made myself a cup of soup, only to discover that there was, indeed, no spoon.*

Edit: 4:30pm, time to make a cup of coffee and slide into the afternoon groove. Somehow, and I'm really not sure how, the plunger starts to tumble, then *smash* it's in pieces on the countertop and once more I'm bleeding. Perhaps I should slide under my desk until this day is done...

*or at least not my personal teaspoon, which appears to have grown walks and legged away.

First of the summer storms

The first of the summer storms rolled over the mountian yesterday, two months ahead of schedule. The first summer storm shook the jacarandas, braches heavy with buds, and the silky oaks, blazing yellow in the afternoon light. The crows bowed their heads for mercy: too early. We watched the clouds in earnest, willing for long, heavy rain but not the hail promised in her greeneyed hue.

She rolled in from the west, full of promise and lay close to the ground. She came in fast, with the wind before her and a strange striped front, as she crossed the mountain. The first summer storm looked like a doozy and carried a warning in her path. Silence struck before the winds swept in and the last lorikeets raced for shelter.

The first storm of the summer fizzled right before she hit; the city's heat stealing her thunder and turning her 'round to the north, leaving only desperate rain that the ground drank up and cool, blue skies that gently drifted into night.