clancy the rains are coming

This morning was the second last time I woke in the bedroom with the glass wall, listening to the lorikeets screaming in the trees outside. The second last time I showered in the downstairs bathroom with the sunlight shining through the bricks. The second last time it all reminded me of my wedding day.

I don’t think I’ll ever love a house as I have loved this one.

Met a friend in a park in Birchgrove. “Dude, you live in Paradise,” I observed, and he agreed. Afterwards I went to Adriano Zumbo and picked out an array of jewels, including Through The Looking Glass With Jessica Rabbit and Clancy the Rains Are Coming. And the passionfruit tart for which he is justly famous. Adriano served me himself and was adorably pleased that I’d made the pilgrimage all the way from SF.

My father-in-law and I are the only sweet teeth in a family that leans towards the more astringent pleasure of olives and juniper berries and limes. His eyes lit up when he saw the shining confections. They tasted of summer and heaven. He ate with relish and asked for more. Afterwards, we had two nearly coherent conversations with him – “What’s under a floating floor?” “Concrete!” and “You fell in love with me at first sight, didn’t you?” “Oh yes.” Janny told him Claire’s comment on Janny’s wedding photo: “You had much less wrinkles, Janny.” Richard laughed.

It was more than we’d had from him in weeks, and it was our last visit on this trip. I have no idea how to end this post.

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