Gavin

My friend Gavin was in a car accident a few weeks ago. I clicked on The Advocate website one morning, and read an article about a car crash in Forth the night before. As I read about the person involved - 39 year old man from Wilmot with a white Barina - I was filled with dread. Surely there couldn't be too many people who would fit that description. So even though it was early in the morning, I decided to ring him up to make sure that he was okay.

His partner answered the phone, and I could tell by her voice that Gavin was the one who had been in the accident. She was frantic. They'd flown him to the Royal Hobart Hospital the night before, and he'd had emergency surgery to relieve the pressure in his head. His head injuries were very serious, and he was in a critical condition. The doctors were putting him in an induced coma until they could assess the damage. And that's all she knew.

Now, around four weeks on, I'm really none the wiser. I tried calling the hospital, but they wouldn't tell me anything about how he was doing because I wasn't a family member. They said if I wanted to know anything then I'd have to call his partner. But I don't have her mobile number, and I'm assuming she's in Hobart with Gavin rather than at home in Wilmot. So I sent a card for him, and put a note in it for his partner, asking her to give me a call with some news. I still haven't heard from her, which isn't unusual I guess, as she must have a lot on her plate at the moment.

Eventually I found out from someone who was talking to someone who called Gavin's partner that he is out of his coma, but still isn't responding a lot, and it appears that he is paralysed down one side. I really, really hope he recovers. He's such a great person, who has such an appreciation for life. It's just not right.

Get well soon, Gavin. I'm thinking of you.

Gus Got a Note

I've been parking Gus in the laneway behind our building at work. Despite all the 'no parking' signs about the place, I haven't been booked because it appears to be privately owned. However, I got a little note on Gus a couple of days ago, saying "Could you please leave this space free, as we have deliveries daily".

Now I don't know where to park! The minimum for the multi storey car parks in Launceston is $4 a day, which might not seem much to some city folk, but to someone used to having free parking at work, it's a damn nuisance. I thought about parking in the same laneway and just moving Gus up a few metres, but I don't want to annoy anyone. But as my boss rightly said, "it's not their laneway either". So what should I do… try and find the author of the note to see if they'd mind if I parked somewhere else? Park there anyway? Pay $4 a day? Rah. I can't be bothered dealing with it.

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K found a frog on our driveway tonight, and ran inside to get me so that I could see him. He was brown and fat. He could hardly even lift his little tummy onto a rock he was trying to climb on. I've never seen a frog that fat before. He made me happy. I'm happy that a frog lives in our yard.

Killer

Last weekend was all over the place. I'm usually very organised, so when I knew I had to play a gig in Burnie, I thought I'd make the most of the trip and go to the old house to do a bit of cleaning. Two birds with one stone and all that. Rachel said she loved cleaning and was keen to help – I was grateful, even though it meant she was a FREAK – I mean, who likes cleaning? Seriously? It's gotta be the most unrewarding job in the world. If you write a book, it stays written. If you paint a picture, it stays painted. If you clean a toilet, someone's just gonna crap in it again. Regardless, I was pleased to have another set of hands helping me.

I was determined to be ready on time – Rachel was coming at 9:30 to pick me up, I had to be ready for my gig as well as having all the cleaning stuff sorted out to take with us. It wasn't until we were pulling in the driveway of the old house that I remembered the dream I'd had the night before – the awful, terrible dream, where I'd forgotten to ask K for the key to the old house, as I'd already given my key to the real estate. But the dream was TRUE! I had forgotten the key! I never forget things like that, but man I felt like a dickhead having to tell Rachel that I didn't have a key to get in.

After a few phone calls to the real estate, and several failed attempts to break in on our own (that place is Fort Knox, I tell ya), we managed to get inside and make a start. I finished the bathroom, and decided that I was going to clean all the shelves in the house next. After being fairly involved with one set of shelves in the main bedroom, I stood back to admire my work. The fact that I'd had my head right in the cupboard meant that I wasn't at quite the right angle to see the massive huntsman spider that was sitting under the very shelf I'd just been cleaning. Argh! I'm not normally that bothered by spiders (I mean, I wouldn't marry one or anything, but I'm not really scared of them), but this one took me completely by surprise. My first instinct was to seek out the insect spray and give him a good coating. As soon as I had done that, I felt terrible. Huntsmen take an ETERNITY to die, and I had to watch him staggering around, clinging onto life, trying to get away from the invisible poison that had already sealed his fate. I was torn – should I scoop him up and put him outside, and hope that the fresh air would revive him? Should I stomp on him and end his suffering? No, I couldn't do that – I'd feel his bones crunching under my shoe, and that would be worse. Instead, I decided that the most humane thing to do would be to finish what I'd started and engulf him in a second coat of the stuff. He stumbled around like a drunk at closing time. It broke my heart. Eventually, he fell on his back, curled up his legs and died.

I felt extremely guilty. Why hadn't I just left him in the cupboard? It's not like he was bothering anyone, it was an empty house. Why did I have to kill him? He might have had a family to support. He might have had his whole little life ahead of him. And I killed him for no reason. I deeply regretted doing it – I wish I had never spotted him.

My reaction to all this puzzled me – I can sit and watch ads about the starving children in Ethiopia and feel absolutely nothing towards them, but I can't kill a spider without feeling heartbroken. Is there something wrong with me? Nobody else would have cared about killing a spider, would they? I care more about animals than I do about most people. I don't know why it is so, but there it is.

I'm sorry, little spider. :-(

So Long, North West Coast

It was my last day at work in the Devonport office today. I kept doing that thing where everything you do all day, you think "this is the last time I'll make a coffee at this sink" or "I'll never sit at this desk again". I will certainly miss working in that office, but that doesn't mean I'm unhappy with my decision to move. Now that the company I work for has moved into a new building, it's a fair bit different than the old place. We are now sharing the building with a bunch of other people, which means there was a lot more activity going on around me, which made it hard to concentrate this week. I definitely think the move is for the best.

While I was tidying up loose ends, I got to thinking about leaving – not just the office, but the North West Coast in general. This has been my home for most of my life, and there's a lot I'll miss about it.

The things I'll miss about living in Ulverstone are:

• Living five minutes walk from the beach
• Walking the streets of a night with K, peering into people's windows
• Going for bicycle rides through Fairway Park to see the galahs
• Our friendly next door neighbours, and the neighbourhood in general
• Not having to maintain a garden
• Not having to pay for parking
• Being close to friends and commitments in Burnie and Devonport

The things I'll miss about Devonport are:

• The roast lamb rolls at the Fairway Coffee Lounge
• Um…
• Have I said the roast lamb rolls at the Fairway Coffee Lounge?
• The nice lady at the post office hatch who remembers my PO box number without me having to tell her
• The roast lamb rolls at the Fairway Coffee Lounge

The things I WON'T miss about Devonport are:

• Having to put my motorbike gear on just to go out for five minutes, because nothing is within walking distance from the office
• Not being able to find a parking spot. Ever.
• Having to park somewhere to go to the bank and post office, then ride up the road and park again to go to Kmart and the supermarket, then ride up the road AGAIN to run errands in the Fourways
• The shitty roads that desperately need resurfacing
• How every street is a main street
• Random weirdos coming up to me wanting to have lengthy discussions about my scooter when I'm in a hurry

The things I'm looking forward to about living and working in Launceston are:

• HARI'S CURRY!
• Living in the same city as many of our good friends, and not having to drive an hour and a half to get home after hanging out with them
• NOT having to put my motorbike gear on just to go out for five minutes, because EVERYTHING is within walking distance from the office
• Knowing whether or not my boss is ignoring me on MSN, because I'll be able to see him
• Living close to the Trevallyn Reserve and the Cataract Gorge
• Living in our own house again, that we can modify as we see fit
• Having a crack at gardening
• Going on journeys with Gus to new places
• Maxing out the Myer card
• Finding a church that I feel I could belong to

Well, time to move on. Thanks, North West Coast - I have many fond memories.