Friday Already

I have a post Thursday drinks slow start and take myself to College Ave to dig it off. I'm making progress cleaning up. I reckon if I stick at it, the garden will look like it's always been there. Glass half full. It's a big job on my own but I'm used to it. The sun climbs and I head to the beach where the fresh sea water clears up the remainder of my groggy head and gives me an appetite.
Today's job is more kitchen bench research. I find another supplier and another warehouse. There's a treasure trove of slabs, their origins displayed in their markings. The intricacy and movement of the patterns draws me in. It's like watching water flow round rocks. They are all different, though those from the same quarry have sibling resemblances. I love rocks and have spent many a happy hour fossicking beside river beds. There are three finishes: polished, honed and leather. There is also neolith, a process whereby left overs are reconstituted and have miracle qualities. Seems like the human race has harnessed even the core of the planet. I wonder how finite this resource is.
My next errand at Spotlight takes me to Moorhouse Ave. Exiting the car park I encounter a once bustling but now neglected part of town near the site of the old railway station. Graffiti paradise. I half expect a tumbleweed to come rolling along the dirt and gravel.
In looking for a short cut to a design store, I stumble another well established part of town, the Barbados Cemetery. I've lived in Christchurch for 20 years and never been here. The smell of freshly cut grass is enticing and I slow my steps. Prone headstones are another reminder of quake disruption and the frailty of human habitation.
Dusk finds me in the garden spreading the dirt pile into the diggings.