c'est la vie

because percy only slept half an hour instead of the booked 2 hours at 1pm today i took her out for a walk at 4:30 today, hoping for a little doze in the stroller. we went around erko oval and then up park street, along henderson for one block then turned up clara street. approaching the tom bass sculpture school i thought i recognised a familiar shape... colour.... presence.... on the footpath ahead of us. sure enough, as it came into better view, there lay, in neglected and pensive mood purple futon. oh, how immeasurably sad. i stood beside it and mourned its demise in the world. i almost thought it might be staring back up at me; dejected, forlorn, asking 'why, why has it come to this?' this being a much raggeder state then when it left us- the purple cover torn, wet stains and marks, dirt, leaves, yet more animal hair...
i sorely wanted to scope it up and bring it home again; give it a bath, something hot to eat, a nice cuddle and replace it in our home and hearts. of course it's too heavy to pick up let alone drag across the entire suburb. (and i'm not sure a bath would suit.)


that's the nature of giving things away; you fool yourself that the two bucks you gave the homeless person will be spent on a mango, banana, berry swirl infusion blast from a juice bar but you really know it's going towards a bottle of burbon. once you give it away it's not yours to dictate how it's used any more. don't offer the beggar a burger, let them choose how to spend your largesse, does your boss tell you how to spend your wages? hence i walked away from purple futon ever so slightly misty eyed, ever so slightly heavy hearted, with the occasional backward glance and '"c'est le vie" on my lips.