Still in Lancefield and still having fun

Lovely day yesterday and no reason to think that today won't be just such another. I can hear other craftcampers talking in the kitchen, magpies and bellbirds and miners outside. I'm still in bed.

When I get up, which I'll do soon, the only and mild difficulty will be in choosing which incredibly fun thing to do first. Don't get dressed and go straight out to the studio and start sewing? Don't get dressed and loll about in the living room eating fruit salad? Get partially dressed and go out to the back yard and do some yoga in the sun? Get completely dressed and go for a walk, which may or may not include coffee and raisin toast but will definitely include looking at people and houses and horses and daffodils and tractors and squinting in the windows of the ex-Mechanics' Institute Lancefield hall which looks like a building destined always for the collective having of fun inside of it. Who knows, maybe today will be the day that the huge three-storey Victorian monster on the corner of Chancey St and Main Rd, which carries the inscription ANTIQUES CENTRE OF VICTORIA, will be open for business. I am aware that whenever I do at last get to go inside and check it out, it'll be underwhelming, but just the same it will be momentous too. What I would love to do would be to get up to the top floor and look out the windows. Lancefield loverlooks over a valley bounded to the north by a spur of the Macedon Ranges. As I've said before, I understand it really is the antique centre of Victoria. There was a greenstone quarry at Mt William. Burke and Wills camped here, and there's some connection with Breaker Morant, not sure what exactly but if you care to know you can of course find out on your own.


I went for a walk yesterday morning and while I couldn't feel my hands after a few minutes, everything was so beautiful.




I went to the bakery for a coffee and because the minimum eft purchase is $10 I had to also buy a jam doughnut, a hedgehog and a caramel slice. I'd eaten all of those by dinnertime last night, along with pretty much all of a big bag of salt and vinegar chips and quite a lot of chocolate and olives (together), in addition to the usual delicious and lovingly prepared sit-down hot meals. I'm hoping this blow-out is the reason why the last thing I made yesterday, a cotton skirt, is tighter in the waistband that it should be.

When you're having fun and you know you're going to leave and go back to ordinary life at the end of the day, it's hard not to let that knowledge affect your enjoyment of the present. This is a topic under productive discussion with my doctor at the moment. I realise, now that I'm thinking about it, that pretty much any such aspect of experience that she and I talk about is therefore inevitably thought of by me afterwards as a kind of symptom and maybe as a symptom which is peculiar to me, or is experienced overly intensely by me. This one, though, this feeling sad that something good will end while it's still happening, I think lots of people are plagued by it. Talking about craft camp at work some time back, a colleague gave me the brilliant suggestion of taking an annual leave day at home when I get back, to taper the re-entry; and so that's what I'll be doing. Home tonight, but no work tomorrow.