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seahearthThe flight was nicer this way. Sam slept, and I slept a bit and read -- Cain by Jose Saramago, take two, three quarters through and liking very much. (I finished Sherwood Smith's Inda day of botanic gardens, I love it but it's too distressing for me to think about going on into book two right now.)
We reached our own steps 2 pm ish, unpacked heaps of things returning home like us and heaps of things new here, all of which fit neater in than I expected. Lounged. Sam went out to see his stepfather in hospital -- semi-serious, but he's ok, he drove Sam back actually, on his own way home. Well, him being him that only says for sure he could drive, but I think he really is ok from what Sam said. I hope. I went on a food shop. There were all these people who were New Zealanders and all these familiar flowers and trees and it was steep and chilly.landingtree called from Auckland airport, luck on his wings. I called Jan to arrange sewing/catching up tomorrow, if it does rain as it's supposed to and we don't have our bowls and gardening to get to.
Our last day in Melbourne we went on the Ferris Wheel. I think some of my romantic associations with them are borrowed from Susan Ferris of O, but then they really are romantic things. Up, up, up, all leasurely. The site of the Melbourne one's not perfect, I suppose they seldom have the sites they want, being so large, but from the upper parts you can just see so much. And down, down, down, still leasurely. The voice that tells you things is a shame, too loud, too eloquent, too praiseful of the city.
Then we went to The Crimes of Grindelwald at imax in the evening. Sam had never been to imax before, me not for years or to one so large. We walked in slightly late and there was an air-chase going on, a thestral-cart, people swooping, edging to our seats at the back, Grindelwald's white face, he gets who he's getting out out, an animal's murder, settling our packs down, a wizard's last-minute not-murder -- that was truly wonderful. In 3d, the only 3d I've seen in years, some of the best I've ever seen. The movie was a total, total mess, but it had that, and it had other wonderful things. I wonder, if JK Rowling had been dealt not what she was dealt with the Harry Potter reception, would she have learned to write identities she didn't invent?
Since we left, one of our two tall roses has come out in yellow bloom.
We reached our own steps 2 pm ish, unpacked heaps of things returning home like us and heaps of things new here, all of which fit neater in than I expected. Lounged. Sam went out to see his stepfather in hospital -- semi-serious, but he's ok, he drove Sam back actually, on his own way home. Well, him being him that only says for sure he could drive, but I think he really is ok from what Sam said. I hope. I went on a food shop. There were all these people who were New Zealanders and all these familiar flowers and trees and it was steep and chilly.
landingtree called from Auckland airport, luck on his wings. I called Jan to arrange sewing/catching up tomorrow, if it does rain as it's supposed to and we don't have our bowls and gardening to get to.Our last day in Melbourne we went on the Ferris Wheel. I think some of my romantic associations with them are borrowed from Susan Ferris of O, but then they really are romantic things. Up, up, up, all leasurely. The site of the Melbourne one's not perfect, I suppose they seldom have the sites they want, being so large, but from the upper parts you can just see so much. And down, down, down, still leasurely. The voice that tells you things is a shame, too loud, too eloquent, too praiseful of the city.
Then we went to The Crimes of Grindelwald at imax in the evening. Sam had never been to imax before, me not for years or to one so large. We walked in slightly late and there was an air-chase going on, a thestral-cart, people swooping, edging to our seats at the back, Grindelwald's white face, he gets who he's getting out out, an animal's murder, settling our packs down, a wizard's last-minute not-murder -- that was truly wonderful. In 3d, the only 3d I've seen in years, some of the best I've ever seen. The movie was a total, total mess, but it had that, and it had other wonderful things. I wonder, if JK Rowling had been dealt not what she was dealt with the Harry Potter reception, would she have learned to write identities she didn't invent?
Since we left, one of our two tall roses has come out in yellow bloom.
