Going to look at the house

It’s 10.13am. In half an hour Anna is coming to get me. A and M are facilitating this shift for me. They are wonderful. Last night I walked down Cascade Street to Sherman Ave in the pitch dark thinking, “This is what it’ll be like to be out and about in Katoomba at night.” No-one else was out. It was deeply black and silent, lights on in houses, that’s where people stay.

M. served up something called laverbread featuring seaweed and oats. It was gritty. We listened to our own and other people’s teeth crunching down on black sand.


Later, in Blues Cafe, with blues music playing
I just saw the inside of my house beside the bush and I saw around the back and there on top of the Hills Hoist was a GALAH. A wooden galah wind-thing. When the wind goes, the wings spin. The air was still, and the two wings were down. But there it was, the house of my dreams, COMPLETE WITH GALAH.

The house was set up for children. There’s a wooden barrier into the kitchen. There’s a metal grate around the fire. There’s a little swing-set out the back.

Deborah, the Ray White R/E agent, is a really nice person. Anna and I were innocents. We didn’t know what questions to ask, how we should be proceeding. I made it instantly clear that I wanted this house and no other. Deborah suggested I look around, go to other R/E agents. Which was nice of her.

Anna and I did a walk to Minnihaha Falls where we’d walked once before and taken photos, stripped down to our knickers. The water came crashing down the falls. The sky a deep blue. White trunks of trees against deep blue sky.

I just thought of an ironing board. I have enough room for an ironing board. The ironing board can be permanently set up. This just makes me want to cry. And there’s a linen cupboard. Need I say more? It is too, too much.

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