I am a suburban girl, from the border of zone two and what used to be zone three - a Melways of cut grass, sixties cream brick veneer and double door lock up garages. I need an excuse to cross zones, occasionally. To jump of my roundabout of washing, shopping and suburban home maintenance.
Fortunately, I am a mother and one of my kids has recently moved inner-city. Having made the decision not to expect the kids to 'always come to us,' this gives Andrew and I an excuse to cross over some times.
Yesterday, this involved brunch on Acland Street with Phoebe and her husband, Andy. Afterwards, when they left for work and family commitments, we could have simply driven back to the burbs. But the sun was shining, and there were buskers hucksters and jugglers all around us, not to mention the palm trees whispering in our ears.
We decided to stick around.
To walk in the community garden.
To peruse the market (Andrew bought a Marek Wilinski print and I bought a hat). To buy drinks. To sit on the lawn wriggling our toes in the sun, to read the quotes on the pavements, and pretended we were inner-city yuppies for a while.
Eventually, it was time to come home. The streets widened, as if by magic, the houses swelled, the pavements emptied of all but the ordinary, as Ventura buses wound their way past tidy suburban homes, once more.
We were almost there.
Only one thing necessary to make our transition complete.
A trip to Bunnings. That's right Bunnings!
Well big deal! Why am I telling you this? An afternoon in St Kilda is hardly earth shattering. Neither is a trip to Bunnings, even if I was the only person wearing a red and black cloth cap with a silver plume.
Okay, I'll level with you.
Tell you the whole truth.
This post is just an excuse - an opportunity to try out the camera and Blogger+ app on my new iPhone. :-)
