Life is a Holiday
This week was insane, but also pretty ordinary.
I read somewhere that “you will never be bored if you are paying attention to your experience”, I’m really into it. Everything is limited by what you make of it, so everything can be a trip if you want it to be. So I guess it's in that way that this last week has been insane, but also believably, reliably (forgive me, but predictably) so.
Unsurprising to all will be the primary theme of Lucky-Rols-continues-to-enjoy-life-on-a-silver-platter. I have made no secret of my priority to sustain an existence of full time holiday mode, and I'm getting good at it now, real good. Interestingly what I'm discovering is that it's not actually as circumstance-dependent as this simple inference suggests; beyond what is at your disposal, it seems attitude and net positivity are the real games you have to learn to play well, to begin winning prizes at the carnival of life.
Or maybe not! Maybe I've just inexplicably got a better bargain than everyone else. Definitely true for most of the world, considering I'm in Sydney, Australia. If you also live in Sydney, Australia, then whatever your job or your lifestyle, your life is absolutely a luxury holiday compared to someone living in Harare, Zimbabwe.
Whatever, life is what you make of it. Agree? Sweet. End of story.
So Monday Tuesday and Wednesday were spent at the ICC making coffee at an oncology convention. The cart Sammy and I built has begun seriously revealing its potential. It went down super well with the client and we had a ball. The biggest thing I took away was the food, metaphorically and literally. It was a lush event and insanely overcatered. Exquisite food that could have fed everyone there four times over, no joke. We soon learnt that all the leftovers end up in the bin, some silly laws about reheating and resale and bla bla bla, it was seriously the most abhorrent waste to seemin the middle of a city with a significant population of homeless. We salvaged everything we could in old milk cartons and cake boxes (and then Tupperware we brought in when we had realized what was going on!). But hey, I didn't organize the event, and in spite of the waste I left every day feeling really well fed and didn't pay a cent for it which was a great plus.
Thursday, shit Thursday was a really good day. Back on the tools in the shop in the morning with DJ Wisco before driving up to meet Rupert in Bulahdelah and convoying to Treachery. We had an epic fleet (Jimny, T3 and Patrol) which needless to say made for an epic camp setup. That night we had heaps of tins and an epic feed including a ridiculous birthday cake Karmila had dropped in to TSE first thing in the morning. That thing was fuggen MENTAL. Vanilla sponge with pineapple jam, and sweet buttery icing with an edible surfer sitting in a lineup complete with breaking wave. Are you kidding??! Salivate over her stuff here
Friday morning I awoke (not to an alarm of course) and did my usual 20 minute morning wake up routine, however I chose to extrapolate it over about 4 hours instead. It involved reading, stretching, brewing coffee, and then more reading… then another coffee… followed by a sick little sesh with Sam and Rupes in shimmering airbrushed 1 foot peaks. At midday the water up at Treach is just so impossibly clear and turquoise! Good thing too, because my late afternoon dip the previous day had turned into a hopping mad stingray dodge when I was all of a sudden swarmed as I lolled about in the nude enjoying the last few rays of sun. Thankfully no such situation repeated and we had a fun bash.
We convoyed to Hawks Nest Friday arvo and checked into a crusty Airbnb house on the fringe of the bush that was to be the site of some pure debauchery for Rupert's bucks. It was a savage crew of seven that would experience the unspeakable shenanigans that took place at this residence. After a truly wild weekend with the fellas Sam and I left around midday, driving south to Gan Gan Rd. We poked around the Tomaree area and found a sick spot to park up for the afternoon, afternoon quickly becoming evening as we immediately strung up the hammocks and resisted movement and noise of any kind.
Now it's Sunday night and I'm lying on a futon in the wooden cabin I built on the back of my large Nissan ute, alongside Sammys endlessly stylish T3. The stars came out a few hours ago for a wicked vege curry cook up and there is a large 14-second east swell due to arrive in the wee hours of tomorrow. Our first “work” commitment is at 1:30pm in down in Newy so we should have plenty of time for two legit surfs and a hammock coffee in between.
Hopefully you've forgiven me for claiming to be getting ‘real good’ at turning life into a holiday, but see what I mean? And hey, I didn't get good at making coffee by accident, the trailer didn't build itself, Big Suse wasn't free. But all that shit is just fabric, how you cut it is up to you.
Life is absolutely a holiday if you can get your definitions right.