The Lair of the Emerald Serpent

Izzie does not like February. Not sure if there is a connection to the 29th of this month being one of the serpent special sacred days or simply because it is such a quirky and unusual day. There is just not that many of them. ;)

But 28 years ago a seemingly insignificant event gave it a special symbolic meaning and today was an opportunity to indulge in all sorts of assorted rituals
February in this bit of Oz is traditionally the most sizzling and stinking hot of months so it is off to a bad start. Then there was the business of leaving the Izzie Aussie homeland as a 14 year old flobberworm to live in the bogs of the wild west of Ireland. That induced a serious case of homesickness and a sense of futility and lack of control over the things that really mattered. That too was in February (1980)

Cannot quite remember what there was for a 19 year old flobberworm to get all miserable about. It was the year for the leaving certificate. The move to Ireland and their school year starting in September meant being 9 months behind schedule. Was not able to jump a year due to the pesky business of the Irish equivalent of Hogwarts OWLs
Maybe it was a delayed onset of the usual teenage emo angst. Having “Hamlet” on the English syllabus certainly did not help. The Germans as usual have a word for it “Weltschmerz” something along the lines of the world is going to hell in a hand basket, woe is me” or “Stop the world, I want to get off” That was a big thing from the 1950s to late 1980s when the possibility of the planet being nuked back to the stone age was almost seen as inevitable

Music and books were two favorite sources of escape. In those days music was mainly in the form of cassettes and vinyl. They were ridiculously expensive to buy and cheap creatures on limited income like yours truly were limited to taping stuff from the radio.

Some time in early 1984 the serpent ears were blown away by a most spine tingling and spooky song which used to be on one of the indie artist music shows on RTE radio. Back in those days they were just as bad as giving information about names of songs and artists as they are now but there was no Google to check the song title and artist or Youtube so that you could get a fix any time you liked. Did find out that it was a mob called “This Mortal Coil” and the title was “Song to the Siren”



It was written by Tim Buckley who was the father of the ubergorgeous Jeff Buckley and both of them came to an untimely demise in the vicinity of water. Coincidence? Izzie does not think so.
Was then on the prowl to snatch this spooky tune for posterity. It was the Wednesday evening of 29th February 1984 that the little red cassette button finally captured the wailing banshee blood curdling voice of Elizabeth Fraser. It became the light at the end of the long miserable tunnel of February and a beacon of hope of better things to come.

If only the Izzie knew at the time that particular February was a picnic compared to what some future years had in store. It is never really possible to know how much of it was a subconscious self fulfilling prophecy but remembers like it was only recently waking up one cold Saturday morning in 1986 feeling all gloomy and doomy and about to pull the covers over and sleep the day away. Then suddenly realized that it was no longer February but the first day of March. The instant charge of energy and enthusiasm was truly scary and of course completely irrational. The mind is a truly strange beast. A tiny change of perspective can make such a big difference.

It was the same tape we chose to play on the evening of Friday 31st December 1999 while watching the last sunset of the year and the millennium (for those folks who aren’t pedantic calendar nazis)
So what better way to commemorate the day than to spend sunset at Cottesloe beach? Especially as the annual Sculpture by the Sea exhibition officially starts tomorrow and most of the works are already there or just need a bit of tweeking

It was a gorgeous sunny and breezy day. Much milder than this time last year and perfect lurking weather for an evening at the beach. The sculptures were an added bonus.
Never did download a copy of the song from itunes as it is there for the listening on Youtube with lots of spooky gothic pictures

After the nasty start to 2012 with the chainsaw massacre at the Lair and the attempt at a reply with the advent of the Chinese Year of the Dragon bringing in seven days of sizzling stinking weather with three in a row at 42 celsius, the last day of February was just the excuse for a sort of New Year’s Eve celebration and bright shiny new beginning for 1st March.
The next time this date falls on a Wednesday will be in 2040 when Izzie will be a shrivelled up old serpent if not already departed from this mortal coil

Izzie has a soft spot for stationery, journals and books of all sorts. This time of year is especially tempting with all those delightful diaries out there and the promise of a year of productivity with just the right diary proving to be the ultimate weapon against the demons of procrastination
Decided to learn the lessons from so many previous attempts at getting stuff done rather than just dreaming about it. One being that a to do list needs to be looked at if it has any hope at all of jumping off the page into reality.

The diary for doing such stuff which also serves as storage space for letters received, bills and such invariably became too cumbersome by April or so and would end up abandoned and gathering dust on some shelf.
But the one that always gets checked every day is the little black Scrooge book where every penny spent is recorded along with beginning totals, end totals for the day and bank withdrawals. This started as part of the “Your Money or Your Life” 9 steps to financial freedom program and ended up as a sort of religious ritual. It also serves as an amazing memory jogger for specific days from years past.

So had the inspired idea of getting a reasonably sized day to a page diary instead of the usual week to a view slimline diary. This would leave half the page for to do lists and on the very frequent buy nothing days - a whole page of blank space for squiggling. So got a cheapie Octavo journal from the Reject Shop which is actually quite good and looks identical to the Collins and Debden versions of the same with the little blue tabs and stuff for each month. That may well be because it is the same and for a quarter of the price
But lurking in the serpent mind was the lure of a certain cult. Had been eying up these diaries in Dymocks and New Edition book shops just before Christmas and could be severely tempted to snatch one in the post Christmas “20% off everything” sale as a belated nanowrimo winner’s prize. And even the reduced price would still be an unjustifiable decadent luxury for what is after all little more than a glorified almost blank notebook.

But for some inexplicable reason there was no end of year sale. Most likely to do with the fact that Angus and Robertson were not having their 20% off everything sale. Oh well thinks Izzie. Did not really need to indulge in a second diary. That was until today and seeing them at 50% off in the very yuppie Art Gallery shop. There was one A5 model left and not the A6 we were hoping for. Also Snoopy was on the cover so it was more expensive than the plain vanilla model.
It was very nice and elegant and all that but made in China just like everything else these days. But the proof of the pudding will be in the using. And the Izzie has got to use it this year because it will be another 28 years before it can be recycled. Even a serious hoarder is rather unlikely to have any unused 1984 diaries lying around that can be dragged out again for 2012. Easter and all the moon based holidays would be wrong but all the other the days and dates all perfectly correct including Wednesday 29th February

But in line with yet another attempt to use stuff the Izzie already has instead of adding more, decided to actually write in one of the very beautiful leather journals with hand made paper. The paper is quite coarse and looked rather unsuitable for our favorite emerald ink. The seller said that it was perfectly fine for fountain pens but she would say that wouldn’t she? But still it was too gorgeous to resist. It looks like the sort of book that would be found in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library, at least while it was still blank and full of potential

Did first write in it while sitting at the beach for the summer solstice sunset and sure enough it was far too scratchy for the fountain pen. Such a pity. It is so so hard to write decently with a biro and the paper is so thick and soft that it is like writing on quicksand.
But it is good to have gotten in the habit of using these beautiful journals instead of just saving them for a rainy day in some dark mysterious bottom drawer.
Must also resurrect the collection of wax seals and rubber stamps. 2012 is to be the year of gobbling up what we have got and using the savings to banish the mortgage goblins.