I’d bought the suit I was wearing from a second-hand store several months ago for $25. It was one of two suits I’d bought on the day, and I was happy with the purchase of both, as they both fitted perfectly and were incredibly cheap.
“Can I smell it?”, a colleague said to me today, wondering if the suit had the smell of an “old dead man” about it. She was reassured.
I’ve worn it a few times since the purchase, but somehow, however, I managed to get by the last few months without realising the suit contained evidence of a former life.
“Was it a handkerchief owned by a distinguished man?”, I wondered to myself, “Or was it evidence of a former life. A girlfriend he’d left behind?”.
I still don’t know, but I’d welcome your input. Male or female? Young or old? What do you think?
After work I went off to the pub, as usual for a Wednesday night, to catch up with my mates.
In stark contrast to the usual quiet night, there was a blues band playing, and there was a “Customer Night” for a company selling beds, so we had to relocate ourselves. The beds cost $7,000 each, equivalent to a first home owner’s loan! Nonetheless, we had a terrific evening.
And it was largely a terrific day.
The only low point in the day was to hear today of the death of Australian poet, Dorothy Porter.
My first memory of Dorothy Portery was when she came to Wagga in the early 90s as a “writer in Residence” for “Wagga Wagga Writers Writers”. As I recall, she had just written, or was working on her work about Akenahten.
As the local ABC broadcaster I remember interviewing Dorothy on a number of occasions about her work.
As one of those behind the RGLSSG, the Riverina Gay and Lesbian Social and Support Group, I also remember a couple of events we organised around her time in Wagga.
She seemed like a really terrific person, and hearing today of her death made me feel a little sad…