A woman with power - and
I don’t mean spiritual or economic power, I mean actual electricity - can do
anything. Such as, make a cup of
tea, and feel like it will all be ok.
I have arrived in
Quorn, done a lap of my house and unpacked my small but very reliable car. Now
I wait for the kettle to boil, and the removalists to come. Just like
yesterday, but 330 kilometres north on a map. Little things about a house I
forgot – how sticky the front door is, how the knob comes off in my hand when I
pull it open, how the fireplace handle does the same. How awesome the floor tiles
are in the kitchen, and what a cool kitchen it is. How down lights make everything look glamorous. How I love the bathroom’s groovy green,
and didn’t he do a great job painting that door? Yes, I remember where the hook
is for the mirror. And I see how the house has aged a little, the rain swelling
the French doors and the cracks in the soft, damp walls.
How I always need to
piss so bad when I get to Quorn as I don’t stop north of Lochiel, and trying to
open the door with foreign keys while hopping around with my ass sticking was
an unconsidered but memorable first impression for the neighbours, slowly
driving by.
I filled the kettle up
with rainwater – straight from the tap and feeling very Goode Life ( 1970s TV show, not the gourmet pizza place) and set it to boil. Went to pour a cup
of tea and it came out brown from the jug - gross! Is this my water? Brief panic sets in. What am I going to do without
someone to tell me what to do? Runs through my mind. No landlord, no
boyfriend/builder, no neighbours who I know, no strata title, no housemate.
Who will I ask about
‘country things’ like what switch to flick to go over to mains, and who has a
bobcat and where can I borrow a lawnmower or will I have to buy my own? She who
can’t bring herself to buy a decent vacuum cleaner – yet. Eek! City
Slicker Panic Sets In!
Notice in the Quorn
Trader reads, “Unemployed single female homeowner seeks experienced country
person for brief liaisons about essential regional matters. Reply by homing
pigeon due to no network coverage at present.”
Some saner more wise
part of me, I’ll call her ‘Country Sue’, (no relation to Sue Ellen or Suzie Beth),
lets the water run til its clear – fucking genius, eh? And start again. Moral
of the story; if you say you are going to love the country, you have to be
prepared to get a bit of dirt in your cup.
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