For those of you whom aren’t in the know I have made the journey home to the land of golden soil and wealth for toil. You might think that would mean the ending of my “Canadian Tales” series but until I stop living out of a suitcase I think it’s fair to say I’m still not “home”, well that and the fact I don’t actually have a home to speak of, I’d call it more of a splattering of possessions that spans three different friend’s homes, a storage cage and an attic.
Arriving just before Christmas I spent a week in my old home town of Melbourne crashing in the spare room of good friends. Melbourne was a bit of a blur, every day seemed to be filled with drink and cheer, fitting the season perfectly really, but impeded greatly on the progress of some contract work I’d picked up to tide me over until my working life recommences next March.
Checking on the remainder of my post Ga-RAJ sale home-ware possessions that I’d stashed in the storage cages of my old building’s cafe (with permission from their owner of course, who had unfortunately passed whilst I was in Canada) I was filled with relief to find them still there under the cafe’s new ownership and even more so to find out there was no problem in keeping everything there until my return to Melbourne in 2009.
Life of storage secured and an exponential-increase-in-alcoholic-intake week later I was in Adelaide with family and more friends to celebrate Christmas. It was fantastic to see my family again, it may have only been seven months since I saw them last but with what I’d been through with the attack in Seattle I’ve wanted nothing more to see them all again. I was treated to a wonderful new lens for my SLR and many other great presents but as corny as it sounds being home to see everyone was present enough for me.
Two cities and one major holiday down the only place left to go for the holiday season was Port Lincoln (Plinkin’). My Mum is the only person who lives in Port Lincoln still, my home town, and whilst I saw her on Christmas day when she flew to Adelaide my brother’s Christmas present to her was to tile her house and seeing how I didn’t really have anything else to do until March I, along with my sister and my brother’s girlfriend had all volunteered to help.
So that’s where my nomadic life is at the moment. I’ve rung in the new year Plinkin’ style at the local hot spot, my arms feel like lead weights that wont stop tingling from the four hours of jack hammering I had to do yesterday and where I sit in wait of figuring out exactly what it is I’m going to do and where I’m going to live?!?
Lastly for those I’ve not been able to get in touch with directly, a happy new year to you all. I hope you rang it in with style.