Level Four Lockdown: Day Twenty-Four
Curfew. 8 p.m.
Mood: Level. I have a bad case of imposter syndrome
Today's iso-walk took me out at lunchtime, just down to the local shopping centre for some supplies from the chemist, the supermarket, the butcher and for a much needed cup of coffee. I miss having the soap guy there for a chat. The trip took an hour on the nose - a good lunch break. It was good to be out of the flat and out in the fresh air, away from the computer.
Walking back home after the shop, groceries in one hand, coffee in the other, I looked up. There, sitting on the telephone wires, were two kookaburras.
I can't remember the last time I saw a kookaburra in the city. I know I've seen them in the country, but not in the city.
On my walks into town, I'll often seen rainbow lorikeets, sulphur crested cockatoos and hear the chime of the bellbird. But I can't ever recall seeing kookaburras in the city. I wonder what they were doing up there other than overseeing the tram works along Victoria Street.
They rather made my day, making up for the drudge work I'm doing at the moment and the novel pot holes I have swirling around in my brain.
On the good side of things, I seem to have found my way over a large writing hill, and a clearing has been reached. It's now the time to summon up the courage, get over the imposter syndrome and find the time to contact a couple of end-of-life doulas to find out what it is they do. Fun.
In the mean time, I'm writing myself out of some holes. In the back of my mind, I'm wondering what the kookaburra's are signifying - Laughter? Creatures out of their habitat? Observing things from afar? Who knows.
Today's song:
Curfew. 8 p.m.
Mood: Level. I have a bad case of imposter syndrome
Today's iso-walk took me out at lunchtime, just down to the local shopping centre for some supplies from the chemist, the supermarket, the butcher and for a much needed cup of coffee. I miss having the soap guy there for a chat. The trip took an hour on the nose - a good lunch break. It was good to be out of the flat and out in the fresh air, away from the computer.
Walking back home after the shop, groceries in one hand, coffee in the other, I looked up. There, sitting on the telephone wires, were two kookaburras.
I can't remember the last time I saw a kookaburra in the city. I know I've seen them in the country, but not in the city.
On my walks into town, I'll often seen rainbow lorikeets, sulphur crested cockatoos and hear the chime of the bellbird. But I can't ever recall seeing kookaburras in the city. I wonder what they were doing up there other than overseeing the tram works along Victoria Street.
They rather made my day, making up for the drudge work I'm doing at the moment and the novel pot holes I have swirling around in my brain.
On the good side of things, I seem to have found my way over a large writing hill, and a clearing has been reached. It's now the time to summon up the courage, get over the imposter syndrome and find the time to contact a couple of end-of-life doulas to find out what it is they do. Fun.
In the mean time, I'm writing myself out of some holes. In the back of my mind, I'm wondering what the kookaburra's are signifying - Laughter? Creatures out of their habitat? Observing things from afar? Who knows.
Today's song:
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