Thursday, 24 September 2009

Dust settles

My husband woke me up yesterday morning and told me to come outside. The sky was glowing the most eerie red colour I have ever seen. It wasn't light reflecting off a distant sky, the air in front of me was glowing red and I could not see the sun.

We came inside and as i put my head back on the pillow. Silence, then a lone siren heading up the street. You know we're in a zombie film i joked. I smell something. It smells like a swag. It's dust. It's tons and tons of dust.

And sure enough it was. Which was surprising because there had been a torrential downpour before I went to bed. When that happens you don't expect to wake up and find your world coated in thick red dust. The red earth from The Centre picked up and blown hundreds and hundreds of kms to your home.




Photos shamelessly pinched from the www.smh.com.au


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I was quite happy doing the gardening. Poking my spinach to make it grow faster and munching on some sugar snaps. Quite satisfied, till I got a call from a close friend letting me know that she is pregnant - with twins - and all of a sudden my happy Pooh-ing about in the sun seems so empty and meaningless.

I'm OK. I'm just worn down with longing.


12 comments:

Julie said...

I love the idea of Pooh'ing around the garden. It invokes images of butterflies, sunshine, yummy treats, good friends and adventures. Thats a good phrase to use. Sorry it crashed for you.

MrsSpock said...

Freaky! I wonder if that's how the dinosaurs saw the world after the comet hit and dust filled the sky?

And *hugs*.

Panamahat said...

Ah the ole 'pregnant with twins' manoeuvre. You can't out-dust that one. Unfortunately. Yep. Can really take the shine out of poohing around the garden. Or doing pretty much anything else, for that matter.

Still, I'm glad you were able to enjoy it while it lasted.

I know what you mean about worn down with longing. I told my pregnant BFF the other day, that even IF I could go ahead RIGHT NOW with my plans for donor egg and surrogate (and I actually even HAD a surrogate yet, AND it actually worked first time) I still wouldn't, with red tape and logistics etc, have a baby in my arms under two years from now.

Looking at that as the shortest road out of here - well, it's just bloody exhausting.

I might not be too tolerant, but I'm sure developing a LOT of patience on this project.

Lavender Luz said...

I saw that on the news last night! Very weird feeling to look out and your whole world is a different color (not quite rosy).

No, I did not get your email. Try bestlightlori at gmail dot com.

So hard to hear news like that sometimes.

Michele said...

Those pictures are eerily beautiful. It seems like something out of a movie. Something that couldnt possibly be real but somehow is.

Mmm... fresh veggies... We've been saying we'll do a garden since we moved her and nada... Maybe next year. I'd love to.

I'm so sorry about the phone call. Even when you are happy for someone else, things like that take such a toll. I havent been able to handle a pregnancy announcement in years. Part of it is that all I can think about are the negative possibilities. I cant shake what "might happen" to be happy for the person, and I cant shake the "I wish it were me" feelings that inevitably come...

I know you are tired from your journey through this thus far... Sending warm thoughts and hugs to keep you walking through it.

Kami said...

I heard about this on the radio yesterday and I thought of you. It is nice to hear an update.

God, I hate hearing about pg "with twins!" no less. I still hate it even though I feel like I should have let it go by now.

I wish it were you.

Pamela said...

Was blown away by those images on TV and on your blog. Just hard to fathom...and I know too well the sucker punch that comes with surprise pregnancy announcements. No matter how much we rationalize it's hard to turn off the emotional response.

M said...

wow. those pictures are incredible. i can't imagine waking up to a sight like that. sorry you got sucker punched by the announcement. it's amazing how it can just take your breath away. i'm so happy to hear from you again. i've been thinking of you a lot this summer and hoping that you were doing alright.

Phoebe said...

When I lived in Africa, we used to have these crazy dust storms from the Harmattan winds bringing dust down from the Sahara desert.

The longing is really hard, but it doesn't sound like it is consuming you. Joyful moments like working in your garden remind you that there is more to life. Hugs my friend.

S said...

umm...I have no idea WHAT your email address is.

thanks for the awesome comment on my post - had a post shitty work day chuckle at "I'd say a prayer but the fucker up there don't seem to like mine. Admittedly they are not very nice. nervous sisterly smiles in your direction". hahahahah fuck him, the little turd.

cough. anyhoo. sending you some quiet "go girl" vibes from up in sunny (and dusty) Qld.

take care - and keep me posted, even if on the down low. xx

S said...

And now for a comment relevant to the post.

Don't those phone calls make you wish you were born in the 16th century? No reach out and touch someone - and fuck their day up with your happy horseshit news. :(

Having been the recipient of such a phone call recently, I really do feel your pain.

We will get there, somehow. And one day, it will be worth it.

Read a cheesy line recently that I liked immensely "they never said it would be easy... they just said it would be worth it".

hugs to you my friend. x

Panamahat said...

Hi B,
you are right about living in the country - I am on ten acres in Bridgetown, 300km south of Perth. It is regularly the coldest overnight temp in the state, so blueberries, truffles, saffron, and stone fruit thrive here, particularly with the rich soil.

I would love you to come and visit! Within the next year we should have water and solar power, plus wood burning stove installed in the guest cottage, if not the insulation finished as well. The perfect retreat. You can sit on the veranda that overhangs the brook, and drink a beer while watching the heron try to find frogs. Very peaceful.

Shalini has begun her surrogate cycle, excitingly. I have been in touch with her for quite a while, but we haven't talked shop yet, as the laws do differ from state to state and I need discuss it all with my IVF clinic here first.

Oh, and a sword sedge is a thick kind of rush -type plant, that lives on the edges of waterways and keeps the soil from eroding. Our land used to be cow pasture so it has been fairly trashed and we are restoring it, in the same way as you would a traditional period piece house - with what would have originally been there. It will take us about 20 years, I think, at only 400 plants put back per year!