Contrasts don't bother me – I've written about them before, they make life interesting, they make people very interesting. But today, they seemed quite ridiculous.
There I was looking over my treasured Le Creuset pan browning the osso bucco that we had delivered to Graeme's work from one of the finest butchers in Sydney, and just hours before I'd been told by our very trusted mechanic that our car is so old and clunky, he deems it unsafe.
I've just spent a fortune at a co-operative buying big bags of organic oats, coconut, spelt grain, almonds, rice and raisins – the savings were too huge to ignore – but I've now left us short for this month.
My kitchen is filled with the best food money can buy, and yet in the past couple of weeks our last 'decent', more-than-a-decade-old set of sheets finally gave up and ripped right down the middle. A couple of pillowcases followed suit a couple of days later. I'm just glad we don't have anyone coming to stay any time soon, because their choice would be the rust-stained cream fitted sheet or the frayed and ripped floral set.
My wardrobe is a similar story: I have an enormous choice between tops with grease marks around the waist, tops with paint splatters or tops with sunscreen tints around the neck. If I'm not in the mood for any of those, I go for the t-shirts that I wore when I was at uni fifteen years ago – in very good condition but alas they fit me before I had two children. I'm just lucky that everyone knows I do a lot of gardening, because I get to pretend I'm wearing 'scruffy gardening clothes' and that 'I'm heading straight back to the garden' when I drop Luca off to preschool.
I'm wearing the same pair of sandals I bought almost four years ago; they were comfortable then, not so much anymore. Our furniture is almost exclusively a garage sale bargain or a side-of-the-road find, but hey there are loaves of sourdough in the bread bin, French cheeses in the fridge and organic berries in the freezer.
It is completely and utterly about priorities and I'm happy(ish) where ours are, but I do wonder about it all when we can't even afford to get the car through the rego, never mind buy another car. And I do wonder about how I look forward so much to winter; not because of the change in season, but because I get to drape all my scarves over the grease and paint stains.
Yes I do like contrasts, but I'm not sure it needs to be so black and white.
If you see me around, I promise I am working in the garden; I've just nipped out for some figs to go with that cheese. And perhaps a little dark chocolate.