A Luce Affiliation

For the last few years I have been going to Mr Nicola Ricci, the tailor on Rathdowne street. He is 86 years old and seems to enjoy remarkably good health for a man who smokes incessantly. He often leaves a lit cigarette smouldering on his work bench, but I haven't found any scorch marks on my clothes yet. The only change I have noticed over that past 7 years is that he now wears chemist glasses with the prescription sticker still on the lens. I first met Mr Ricci after the great Vintage Dress Disaster of 2005. I had bought a beautiful blue party dress with ruched sleeves. I wanted to get rid of the sleeves, to make it more 'summer day dress' and less 'Molly Ringwald goes to a birthday party!'* My housemate Ian was very confident that he knew just what was needed. I should have known when Ian picked up the kitchen scissors that it would not end well. IT WAS A TEXAS PARTY DRESS MASSACRE. Enter Mr Ricci, tailor. He was very disappointed with me. Very disappoint...

This Easter we went to Blairgowrie to stay at Thomas' beach house. The day before we left I bought some watercolour paints and paintbrushes at one of the 2-dollar shops on Smith street. Bargain!! I have never really painted before, and as you can see, I am really very bad. I used to hate art so much in high school that I even volunteered to clean out the paint sinks instead of having to paint. But this time I found it incredibly relaxing and fun. Somewhat disturbingly, I just read an article suggesting that a new desire to paint is one of the first signs of frontotemporal dementia! So, my mediocre depiction of our weekend features: Jenn reading a book next to baby Niamh Huw, Eva and Tara swimming in the deep rock pools Nico floating in the surf on our inflatable pool toy Dan and Thom making a fire Jason chopping wood Verity and I playing soccer Tanya and Ao playing Kubb Erin and Kath fishing Rohan streaking Pippen (the dog) chasing butterflies. Chilli (dog) with a bright red ...

When we were little my Dad was obsessed with taking us for Sunday drives to get 'out of the house.' Apparently it never occurred to him that that a car journey is not an activity in itself for a child. I think that for a child- actually for most backseat passengers- car journeys are only tolerable in light of the destination. Dad was clearly working on some sort of car-advertisement model of the journey, perhaps somewhat stymied by our early-80s Mazda 626. And the persistent grizzles from the backseat. The most memorable of these journeys was our trip to Springvale to learn Why We Would Not Get Kidnapped. When Pen was in year 8 one the of the girls in her class was kidnapped from her home. She was found one year later shot dead. In fact, she was the second girl to be kidnapped from our high school in two years. Understandably, the whole situation left us both a bit anxious. So Mum and Dad's genius strategy was to take us on a family drive past the kidnapped girl'...

Whilst shopping for Pen's birthday present, I found a picture book that sums up my life's work in 20 pages. By Japanese-American artist Ken Tanaka, it is an artful reminder that our lives are better lived with an awareness of our certain mortality! To the best of my knowledge Mr Tanaka has not worked in an intensive care unit, but he seems to understand the conversations ICU doctors and nurses have on a near-daily basis. It is not macabre, it is simultaneously hilarious and sensible: If I were to write a sequel, it would be called, 'When Your Heart Stops, You're Dead: A Guide to Cardiac Arrest and CPR for the 'ER' Generation.'

I miss my housemates! They made me feel more interesting by association, what with their dance shows and their trips to SXSW and their freebie-press-passes to Golden Plains. If I had flatmates today I would have told them the following banal observations: 1. These days whenever I drink water instead of wine people assume I'm pregnant. For the record, I'm not. Moreover, I am not a big drinker at the best of times so you'll probably never spot it when I *am* pregnant! Ha ha!! 2. The new housing commission flats on Brunswick st are less ugly than any of the new apartments that are being built in Fitzroy. 3. Shit ICU doctors say: "She didn't want to live any more so we gave her some amitriptyline." and "She kicked me so I paralysed her." 4. Autumn is awesome. 5. Gorski and Jones (the restaurant) sneakily fill Aesop handwash containers with non-Aesop purple, artificial-smelling handwash. 6. I think it would be great if 'home theatres' were actu...

So, I do Bikram yoga. I rarely admit to this because I am aware that it seems like a sweaty, hippy cult. Actually, it is a bit of a sweaty, hippy cult. Nonetheless it is a useful hobby to have in my armamentarium when an alternative health freak attacks me for being a *medical doctor*. "Do you use garlic when you get a cold, Lucy, DO YOU?!? Hmph. No WONDER I have no faith in doctors or vaccination or the obstetric care that has seen the maternal mortality rate drop 100 fold in the past century. NO WONDER!!" "No, but I do Bikram yoga..." Game-changer! I will never be one of the skinnies who do 60 day challenges drinking only coconut water. Who really has time for 90 minutes of yoga, plus arriving fifteen minutes beforehand plus mandatory post-yoga shower every day?? I only go once per week. But I love it. Even when it makes me so light headed I have to lie down. I like that it's difficult every time you do it, except for maybe once every six months when i...

Things I would have paid more for recently: 1. A second hand copy of Maggie Alderson's book, 'Mad about the Boy'. Bought from the second hand bookshop in Porirua, a small town in NZ. It was well written chic lit, perfect reading for our disastrous weekend away. Actual price: $2 (NZD) I would have paid: $5 (AUD) 2. A glass of lemonade. Bought from a stand two kids had set up outside Jason's parents' house this afternoon. It was proper homemade lemonade with zingy bits of real lemon. Actual price: 20c I would have paid: 50c (I actually tried to give the kid a 59c piece but he insisted on giving me the correct change). 3. A sausage in bread with onion and tomato sauce. At the operating theatre sausage sizzle; I hoovered it down during a short break in an all-day neuro list. Actual price: $1.50 I would have paid: Up to $6, given location and convenience. 4. Navy Kate Sylvester trousers (second hand). Bought from Industria. Actual price: $50 I would have paid: $70...