Sail away...
... for Knots in the String.
My car and I were hit by a flying rock on Tuesday afternoon as I headed from the city to our grandson’s school in the country to collect him and take him to the farm.
I was tootling along, listening to Dee Macdonald’s A Body in Seaview Grange and there was a harsh crack next to my ear, as loud as a gunshot (yes, I’ve fired a rifle and it nearly dislocated my shoulder – hate guns!). I dived down onto the steering wheel and for one flashing moment, looked for blood. (Obviously watching too much Nordic Noir and reading too much crime). Then as I sucked in air, glass from the driver’s side-window started to fly around me, across my body, over to the back seat and down into the door cavity.
I quickly straightened the car, realised that no one else driving on the freeway noticed what had happened, and leaning forward (I could feel the glass against my back) and with heaps of fresh air gushing into the empty space, I pulled into a layby 2 km further on and phoned my son. He immediately left the job he was working on to meet me at the farm. I shook out my clothes, swept the glass off the seat (thank heaven for safety glass as I think there would have been blood otherwise), and continued to school with no window and trying not to shake with shock.
Grandson was right into the drama, solicitous but telling me I was probably targeted because ‘they do target people you know, Nanny’. (Who are they?) The two of us battled the loud baffling, the freezing wind (9 degrees) and misty rain to the farm, and while I had a calming herbal tea and some Cadbury’s chocolate his dad had bought me, said dad rigged up a plastic and tape cover to get the car and I back into the city. I did have a cry in my son’s arms and felt a small child’s arms sneak round from the back and that plus the choccie dissolved the tight lump in my chest.
I managed to get the car to the townhouse in peak hour with no right-side vision, plastic straining to break free and me driving others mad by only travelling at 60 kms along a 110 km freeway. Husband cleaned out all the glass (soooo much glass) and it will be repaired on Monday morning. I was grey with fatigue as I drove into the city garage that night. But now? Much better thank you.
Other (nicer) things:
In light of our little dramas, we left the city. It’s been too busy, too fraught and we packed it in and headed east to the cottage. The minute we drove into our lane in my husband’s car, I could feel the constraining strap around my chest fly away.
The weather is utterly pristine. The kind when one is happy to freeze! Frosted paddocks, infinite and cloudless blue sky, dewdrops on trees and spiderwebs spangled with frost and dew. So many webs. I’ve decided there are more spider species in the world than any other. Intelligentsia say it could be microbes or Antarctic krill, but I think its spiders because the lacework across a winter forest is multitudinous and magnificent!
Took copies of a few of my titles (big cleanout of all office cupboards and files) to the little coastal library - hopefully they can go into circulation without having to go through central acquisitions in Hobart, but it’s unlikely. Found out that the library had a feature on local authors a couple of years ago and my pic and copies of my books were in the display and I wasn’t even aware. Gave Clare, the librarian, a business card so that she could contact me if ever she does it again. Was quite chuffed actually.
In our temporary cold frame, our seeds are up – each tray showing life. Thrilled! This was as good as winning the lottery this week! The greenhouse is due in July.
But best of all has been a seaday.
The weather is so glorious that we really couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Satin calm sea with smidgy puffs of cloud in the blue sky as if our dog had gone galloping around with a torn-up pillow in his mouth. We thought he might do that after being left home alone, but no, when we returned, the house was pristine. Possibly due to a good free walk before we left and having the odd social nose and butt sniff with hairy peers.
It was cold out on the water, but one dresses accordingly and the air is so very clean and the sea so clear and filled with sparkles - what does it matter? I debated taking my swimming gear but thought I’d be bone-chilled on the way back and once deeply cold, its so hard to warm up, so I decided to enjoy the journey and to look for seabirds, seals and dolphins.
The water temp was 11 Celsius, the air temp about 10 and if you’re wondering about the number 17 on the sounder, it’s the depth of water beneath us at that point on our way to the southern end of Maria Island. We anchored offshore at one of our favourite places and had a large mug of hot tea and warm fruit buns with butter and homemade blackberry jam. I always buy loads of hotcross buns at Easter and freeze them for boat trips and paddock picnics and like salty chips or homemade Nuts n’Bolts, they always seem to hit a spot on the ocean.
We had sailed away from stress and barely gave other life a thought. I felt so cosy snuggled down in my doona coat, with thick woolen socks, an old navy fishermen’s jersey and Mum’s red sun visor crowning it all. I’ve said to my husband that my sunvisors and I are an extension of each other and he really must have them cremated with me when I pop off.
I’m so grateful to him because the lion’s share of launch, skippering and retrieve is down to him and he’s been as tired as me, but he now has roses in his cheeks and I think a day in absentia is what he needed, sliding us nicely into a slow weekend.
What could be better?
Music for this week?
Except for the rock in the window, it all sounds lovely, Prue. We're in heatwaves here so it’s hard to think of cold, but you made even that feel special. I needed this respite. We're in such turmoil here.
What a shock to the system! Glass everywhere is such a nuisance .. glad you are getting it sorted & you did very well indeed driving back. Your men loving & caring for you is beautiful! Those waters shots! Wow.