Somehow my Nana got the darkest black paint, bright red, purple, and blue paint out of a brand new white shirt. I’ll never understand exactly how she did it- she claims that it was all because of some old yellow soap.
I went over to my cousins’ house today. Ben, the oldest, showed us a computer he had built all on his own. It’s this sleek black and gray color- it has a name (it’s based on coal) but I can’t think of it. A- something? He had lights all around it too. He’s out of college now, but doesn’t have a job yet. Grant is a little younger, he has a job at the NAB in Melbourne. Him and Ben couldn’t be more different. Ben’s the extremely fit, extremely competitive, overachiever (in a good way) type, while Grant’s the more artistic quiet one, but he’s just as smart as Ben. We painted outside. Grant was working on a painting he’d done of a jetty, water, and a sunset. There was a tiny man jumping into the water, but Ben told him to get rid of it. It kind of threw off the whole realism of the painting. The whole thing looked so professional and detailed. Ben was trying to paint a wave, but we ran out of white paint, which bothered him a lot. I told him he could have painted something else, but he was hell bent on doing that wave. My canvas was painted completely black – (like my soul, my feelings about high school, the jokes were endless). I went for a space theme. I flicked blue, purple, white, and red dots “stars” everywhere. My hands were a mess. I even got it on my face, and all over my shirt. I drew an Earth in the middle of the mess. My sister painted a beach, and a kangaroo. Getting into the whole Australian vibe. The wind was so fierce when we were painting that sometimes our plates full of paint smacked into the glass wall. Aunt Ruth made Sister and I pancakes with ice cream, and coffee. I accidently ruined a mug with acrylic paint. Grant had to throw it out; I felt really bad. They have an adorable little white dog named Scupper. He was feeling a bit sick today. He has asthma now too. Poor baby.
Scones are pronounced SCON over here. Isn’t that funny? It sounds like a disease. Scon disease.
The hot summer days stretch out lazily over here. I’m getting a little bored to be honest. My grandparents like a quiet life, which is understandable. But I have this itch to get out, go do something.
I’ve asked Poppy a lot about my Mother. He won’t give me much. Talking about her too much upsets him. Here’s what I’ve gathered:
- She was a very pretty girl, as vain as she is now. Loved to spend endless hours on the beach, tanning. They called her “Lizard”.
- She brought home a lot of “beach bums” (Poppy’s words).
- She didn’t do that well in school, not really smart like her brothers.
- Poppy didn’t like her much at all.
Most of this clashes with what Mom has told me of course. She was all:
I was a very good student. Straight A’s. Super active. Always doing stuff. I was a goody two shoes too. I didn’t let boys distract me. I was smart, motivated, and driven.
To hear Poppy tell it though: she was lazy, vain, and stupid.
I think he thinks my Sister and I are going down the “Mom road”, all because we can’t name many West Indian Islands. I’m not good with Geography, which Poppy thinks is an absolute necessity. He makes me feel really dumb a lot, he’ll mention a place that he’s traveled then say: But you wouldn’t know where that is would you? in this superior tone. Poppy’s not always like that. He’s kind and good too. He’s extremely smart. He expects a lot though, and there are a lot of things I don’t know. I’m not the smartest girl, I absolutely detest math, but I’m not a total idiot either. I get good grades in school. I work hard.
Lately I’ve been slacking off though.