October greeted me with a birthday picnic, five kinds of cake spread
out on a blanket in the park.
This birthday was a good one. Although it had a rocky start.
Not many people can say they’ve been rejected by Hugh Grant, particularly
Sallies girls, but the conversation on the first morning of the Dunhill golf
championship went something like this:
‘Could we have a picture, please?’
‘Yeah, in a minute, just give me a sec.’
We nodded politely as he went to tick off whatever it was from
his to do list. But Hugh had deception on his mind. He proceeded to the first
hole of the Old Course and promptly teed off.
Come on, Hugh. Stop toying with us. We
all know you can’t do the Old Course in a minute. We all know it, Hugh. We all know.
So over it.
...
Over summer, Imogen stayed, and in the time that wasn’t
spent washing dishes and serving school dinners we took photos. Since
Melbourne, my clothes are all bright. I often look ridiculous, but I don't mind. It keeps the warmth with me.
I bought this jumper upon my arrival into Glasgow under January cloud. I was desperate for something bright. It has seen me through many a grey day. There is nothing that lifts my mood more on a gloomy morning than dressing like an over-saturated photo.
I was walking along this little mini pier being all artsy for Imogen's camera and we found a rope. I envisaged scenes from Moulin Rouge, but it looks more like i am winching myself out of Davy Jones' Locker. I'll take it.
 Then we found this perfect little corner of colour coordination and I put on my best glower. Who wore it best? ... This semester is going incredibly slowly - each day seems to last a week, and I'm perpetually busy. But this last year is a good one. I am forever being blown away by a very simple realisation: I am happy to be here. |
