Sunday, April 24, 2011. A day off work. I dreamt I had a new born baby, I was living in a caravan and all around me were raucous partying campers. I lay with my baby and hoped that it wouldn’t be woken by the noise.
I myself woke at midday refreshed; there was a heavy rainfall audible outside. Sarah had gone out with Maggie and I was left all by myself as Jorine and Candy were both at work. I took a long ponderous shower, thinking about how if I had given into my slight urges to drink last night then today I would have been laiden with a hangover. I was glad I had not drunk.
I took an umbrella and went shopping, the rain cleared as I approached Te puke and I put the umbrella in my bag. I bought the necessities and another can of cream soda from the sweetie shop. As I cracked open the can outside the shop I saw a poster in the window advertising whippy ice cream. In the poster a cartoon child was running and smiling with an ice cream in hand. The name of the brand was called farm boy “always licked never beaten” was the slogan below the picture. How peculiar I thought to myself as I walked away.
I met a fellow Trevelyan worker in the countdown supermarket; He told me he was also going to a job interview at Mt Ruapehu. It seems many seasonal workers are planning their migrations down to the ski slops. I feel like I am part of a flock of geese, traveling freely, stopping where ever we will for a short honk and a rest, then off again to pursue this life of a traveler.
On the walk home the rain had began again and as I popped open the umbrella I saw a large butterfly which after finding out the species reviled its self to be a Monarch the king of butterflies, pail orange wings with black edging and the body was black with white spots like a Dalmatian dog. The butterfly was slowly walking on the foot path, raindrops which looked like led weights beaded on its wings. I picked it up and it faceed forwards as I took it home under my umbrella.
When I got home Sarah opened the door and after showing her delight at my buying some crisps she gave her attention to the butterfly. We put it on the table in our room and left it be. It didn’t move at all, I thought it was dead but after gently prodding its antenna I found out that it was just tired.
The rest of the day past smoothly, like most times of idleness I ate out of mere boredom, heaps of ice cream with chopped up Kiwi fruit, mountains of noodles and sand wedges. As evening approached I was bilious and felt pretty sick. I wonder if having time off from work is actually wise?