This week wasn’t the greatest weeks in terms of fitness. I had a lot of work to do for the thesis thing that I’m doing and my supervisor decided that it was time that we had a chat – which is fine, except talking to her just means that I end up talking about programming and she talks to me about her son and Game of Thrones. Which isn’t so bad – I guess.
I did, however watch this youtube video again – just to get me in the mood:
This guy, Robin Moore, he’s an Australian who lived out the dream that we’ve all had and moved to Portland Oregan. He probably spends his life riding his bike around, and making craft things. Ah to live the wonderful life – I think living there would be such a beautiful thing. I could live close to wherever I was working. Go home to a dark, but quaint cottage, and spend my evenings knitting and baking.
And of course I haven’t forgotten about you, my dear Gerwood. Although we’re almost strangers to each other now, we would of course live like lovers in this dark and quaint cottage. You would take up wood-carving, and your soft programmer’s hands would become rough to resist the splinters. You would smell like wool and computers.
We’d have parties and invite our closest friends. Naturally Jane would come and wear an inappropriate black dress. She would flirt with you while Edward, her guest and latest lover, would look on sullenly and ask himself “why?”. Michael and Therese, the lovely postgraduate couple who we met at the big table in that cafe that one time. As usual they’ll both have a burning desire to talk about whatever the latest hipster trend is and how much they hate it. Then there would be sad John, who has a terrible job, hates his ex-wife and never gets to see his children, but knows magic, so he must always be invited. Suesy and Lynette, sisters, both of whom you have slept with, Gerwood, but that was before you we met so there is nothing to forgive. And beautiful Scott, who is fabulously gay and so delightfully pleasing to the eye that when I’m unhappy I just look at pictures at him and instantly feel better.
At the end of the night the table will look like this:
All the plates will be clean, and our guests will have left and we’ll sit together at opposite ends of the table and laugh about how ridiculously euphoric the night was. Then we’ll have a competition to see who can blow out the most candles – much like Gimli and Legolas did in the Battle of Helm’s Deep – before going to sleep between sheets that I knitted on a bed with a headboard you carved.
This is the life that we would live out in Portland dear Gerwood. Can you wait?
With love & affection,