Let there be light

I'm having a good day, as opposed to yesterday when I had a crap day. Actually, the high spot in yesterday was meeting Mummy Crit for the first time, at the Castle in Commonwealth Park and nattering while our kids romped. Hooray! But the parking fine I got earlier in the day and the effing humid heat sucked. If I wanted hot steamy days I'd live in Cairns, bejeezuz.

But today! Today I checked out how well my blank books are selling at Pepe's Paperie in Civic (very well), taught Bumblebee's class how to make pop-out books (excellent, chaotic Friday arvo fun) and had all the lights in my house replaced with sleek 12-volt halogen spots. Then I came home and found the new Woodford Folk Festival Programme in the mailbox, with glossy write-ups of my visual arts workshops. Exciting but terrifying.

I'm particularly pleased about the lights. It was a move forced by the nearly-40-year-old fittings breaking in quick succession -- well, every time I changed a lightbulb. I've been dressing in dim lamp-light for weeks now, and it's been really annoying. I get dressed, thinking I know my clothes really well, but then I walk out the door and find myself running back inside to change out of something the wrong colour, wrong shape, wrong occasion (ie 'pilly', stained tops I save for printing when I need something cleaner). I wear black a lot because (a) it covers all evil, (b) it's easy, no clashes and (c) don't all artists wear black it hides printing ink. But when lots of pieces of your clothig are black, and you don't have good dressing light, you need to pull EVERYthing out of your wardrobe to find the bit you want. Ay carumba. Well, today the nightmare ends. Hooray!