American Booty Call

“I forgot we had a cat.” said Kevin - an indicator of just how far removed we have been from our daily life for the last three weeks, completely absorbed in the glorious immediacy of each vibrant moment right up to the minute we walked in our front door and mundane reality came crashing down upon us in the form of 7 notifications of toll violations.

Attempting to recapture that escapist feeling, I immediately set about creating our usual post-vacation shrine of souvenir booty. I am not especially obsessed with objects and possessions, aside from their power to evoke memories and feelings, but I do love to create little displays of mementos, gifts, and keepsakes to remind me of all the fun I had with my friends and family. My emotional indulgence then fades slowly over time as the objects drift away, either through re-distribution or consumption.

Last night, nestled between clean sheets in my own bed, I immediately sank into REM sleep, and my dreams were filled with vivid scenes: sitting around the table playing games with my family – except instead of my mother’s cozy dining room, we were on my balcony overlooking Cockatoo Island…preparing for an evening of drinking and carousing with Doug and Oscar – except instead of riding bikes through the darkened streets of San Jose we were getting ready for a pub crawl in The Rocks …heading out for dinner with Beki – except instead of going up to San Francisco for fresh Dungeness crab we were going down to Darling Harbour for steak and prawns.


I awoke feeling a little heart-sick, but also all warm and fuzzy, because despite being so far away, somehow, through the magic of memory, I had managed to transport everyone I love with me here to Australia. And that is the best souvenir ever!



Now, if you will excuse me, I must contact the administrators of the Lane Cove Tunnel – perhaps they will accept a cat in lieu of payment…