the sound of green

It’s raining. The threat has been there since close to 5am, but it’s finally raining. The roads are slick, the windscreen wipers screetch initially from the layer of dust on the glass, but eventually they get back into the rhythm of it all. I’ve spent 84 minutes at the LPG Conversion place this morning, for what was supposed to be a 30 minute checkup – however, I’m not hugely fussed. It’s raining. The temperature is dropping over the next several days, and Winter may finally be upon us.

I’m not adverse to Autumn – in fact, with the mid-20-degree and bright sunshine we’ve been enjoying all week, I’ve been well and truly loving Autumn. Leaves changing, cool nights but clear skies, and the sun awake before me all are considered improvements upon the end of Summer. Monday and Tuesday saw me spending some time out in the backyard purely because the weather was so nice – something that I’ve not felt enticed to do for some time. Autumn’s meant that things outside can be done – our housemates have been gardening, we’ve thrown a 30th Birthday out the back, and I even get to sit and read in the sun. That may be coming to an end, however.

Across the laneway behind our building at work, Autumn has been kind on a certain house. Starting around the same time I started here, a major construction project has been undertaken in the back yard of the house that falls immediately behind our office block. Over Spring and Summer, the walls went up, the ceiling went up, but up until a few weeks ago, there was still no weather-proof roof over the structure – and I can imagine that the owner must be counting his lucky whatevers that the weather has been kind enough to finally have it roofed before Winter sets in for a possible lengthy stay. This project intruiges me no end, though – and I do miss the days when there was no roof or walls, and I could see just what was going on.

It started with a ridiculously oversied hole in the back yard. Initial thoughts were foundations for something, but as the hole continued to deepen, we realised that there is no way a foundation needs to go that deep. It remained dug out for some time, a clean, square hole in the ground, in the rough dimension of a cube – and for a long time we had no idea what was happening. One day a truck, crane and work crew turned up with prefabricated concrete walls, and before the day was over, we realised that a room was taking shape underground. Nothing more was thought until the roof of the room – at ground level – was poured: all that was left was a single small manhole, with an equally thick concrete manhole cover. Almost immediately the double brick walls started to go up – and our thoughts ran wild. Bomb shelter? Secret room? Dungeon? Whatever the purpose of the hidden room, it became clear obvious that part of its design is to remain out of sight.

Now, April winds down and Winter fast approaches. On most days there are work utes and trucks coming and going, with tradesmen working on the project. As the walls and roof have been added, it’s become clear that the above-ground portion is a double garage – sans doors for the meanwhile, but the openings on the front make identification easy. What still makes my mind run in circles is the fact that most days when there’s utes or tradies working there, there never seems to be any activity on the exterior or interior of the garage or ceiling – yet from the comings and goings, from the different utes, from the trucks picking up the scraps, it’s obvious that a fair amount of work is going on. And it’s all happening in the secret underground room.

It’s part of my morning ritual now. I get to work, usually the first or second to arrive, and get my laptop set up at my desk. As it starts up, I head to the kitchen to deposit the day’s lunch in the fridge, and to make myself breakfast. When I’m done, usually with a bowl of cereal in my hand, I go to the window and adjust the venetian blinds so that I can look down at the new garage, and wonder what’s going on. When the day is over, I drove out along the laneway, hoping to steal a glance through an open gate to see more of the interior of the garage. Yet nothing I ever see gives me any answers. It always leads to more questions.

… I don’t know what is!

I now want to work at LEGO, purely to get my own.

Check it out. (via WIRED)

Some of you may or may not know about my secret love of a good armchair. In fact, the love spreads from mere armchairs to any chair that happens to take my fancy. And this just blows my mind completely.

I seriously want one. Made by Robin Carpenter, it’s seriously cool. There is absolutely no room in our lounge or study for one, but I want one. I’ve even spent the last 10 minutes looking at the images, working out if I could reverse-engineer it and build one myself.

*sigh*

Speaking of the studio, perhaps I should get some of these to put in the studio for clients to sit on?

Seriously cool. It makes me want one. I’d wear it everywhere, to work, around the house, out on assignment.

I may find that my wife disowns me, throws my things out of the house, and vows to never look upon my face again – but at least my face would be warm.

The Etsy shop and the blog.