New Boots and Contracts

For those that care: we will be staying another year in the Solomons.  

Louise has been offered – and accepted – a new contract for another 12 months.  As long as things remain relatively stable, we’ll be back in November next year, rather than this year. We’re pleased, although the thought of coming home wasn’t totally appauling to us, when it looked a likely occurence. When we did a pros and cons analysis of ‘staying’ vs. ‘going’, ‘staying’ only just won out.

Also, I purchased new boots while in Sydney, for the wedding. I never liked shopping scheme malls much before, preferring markets, and after 10 months here malls really make me feel nauseous, so I decided I wanted something a bit more down-to-earth in my ‘developed world’ shoe shopping experience. An army disposals store on George St fit the bill perfectly – almost too well. The owner was hunchbacked to the point where he could only view the ground, and his long greasy hair completely covered his face from view. He smelled of stale sweat and meatballs and his accent was virtually unintelligible. Others with similar Eastern European accents stood about shiftlessly while he fitted me up. We argued over sizes and prices for half an hour until I felt like it was an inconvenience to him for me to attempt to buy anything at all.   

Dickensian shopping, as Margie Lynch put it! It was wonderful, and I still got shoes anyone here would kill for. (I gave my old boots away to security guard before coming over. They love their boots, over here).

Anyway, the connection between boots and contracts makes perfect sense to me, but might be one of those thing that it’s just too hard to explain. So, all I can say is, here’s to another year of this odd, but fundamentally rather sweet, life.

Joe Strummer can take me out here… 

Hanging about
Down the market street
I spent a lot of time on my feet
When I saw some passing yabbos
and we did chance to speak…


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