Monday, December 22, 2008
Scribble Soup for Writers's Block #45: the great outdoors
It's another stinking hot day.
"Let's go bushwalking," Boyfriend says.
"Okay," I mumble in reply, not taking my eyes off the t.v.
In an unusual spurt of energy Boyfriend gets up and showers, while I lounge about.
"Are you ready?" Boyfriend asks 15 minutes later.
"I will be soon," I reply, not budging from my seat.
"Come on, hurry up!" Boyfriend calls from the dining room.
"Well have you packed the water bottles?" I say as I throw on some clothes.
Ten minutes later I ask, "So what's happening with the water?"
"It's coming! Where are the bottles?" Boyfriend asks, not having moved an inch from where he'd been standing.
I point to the bottle sitting on the table to his left, "Oh look, it's a candle disguised as a bottle."
Boyfriend gives me 'the look'. "I guess you want me to fill it up with water now." He says sarcastically, walking to the fridge. He opens the door, stares, then walks away. "We're out of juice. Can you put it on the list?"
I add it to the list, "Anything else you need?"
"There's a box on top of the cupboard," I say.
"Then why isn't it in the bin?" I ask in dismay.
Boyfriend laughs guiltily, "It was easier than throwing it into the bin."
I give him 'the look'. "The bin would have been closer."
Boyfriend snickers even louder.
In the car, Boyfriend gives me his hourly update on the temperature, "I can't believe how hot it is. It's only 28 °C but it feels much hotter."
We arrive at Forest Island. It's stinking hot and I'm covered from head to toe in my anti-leech combat gear. For added insurance, I spray myself with tropical strength bug repellent. Five minutes into the walk, the battery on my camera dies. Without the constant activity of photo taking, my mind is free to analyse the likelihood of a leech attack. I mentally list all the places on my body that a leech can latch on to. I feel exposed and vulnerable. I start to sulk. Boyfriend decides to climb down the ravine to take a closer look at the creek. I calculate the chances of a leech attack. I don't like the odds. I sulk even further. Boyfriend forces me to follow him. So I do, protesting all the way down. It's a beautiful spot, but I am ever vigilant of leeches. I keep my eyes wide open. I am not deceived by the creek's beauty.
We follow the creek until we can no longer do so without getting wet. Boyfriend decides it's time to head back to the track. Our climb is impeded by a patch of stinging nettles. This is not a problem for me, after all I'm covered from head to toe. Boyfriend is wearing shorts. I suggest he places some palm fronds down.
"Good idea," he says. Unfortunately he slips. The buggers get him. He is in pain. We march on. He trips over a loose rock, and twists his ankle. We march on.
An hour later, we return to the car. Boyfriend has a hankering for banana bread. He asks me if I feel like stopping in Deena for coffee.
"No, I'm all sweaty and yukky," I reply.
He doesn't tell me he really wants to stop in Deena, until right before the turn off. With five cars trailing closely behind us, he says, "I really feel like banana bread."
"If you really wanted to stop at the cafe, you could have just said so," I reply.
Without slowing down, Boyfriend takes the turn-off. I hold on for dear life, Boyfriend's camera bag falls to the floor. He turns to me and says, "What? The other cars were right up my arse. I couldn't slow down."
Our stomachs full with banana bread, we decide to stop off at Crystal Waters. Boyfriend discovers that his stunt driving has broken his very expensive camera lens. Now it's his turn to sulk.
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