FIELD NOTE 35: THE SUMMER I PRAYED TO GOD FOR

LOGGING-A-THREE-DAY-HEAT-WAVE-TURNED-CATASTROPHE

***This Field Note took a frightening turn on day three of the heat-wave, but I kept on logging ‘cause it’s real. Sending love to any and all affected by the January fires. Thinking of the towns, the animals, the crews, and the families keeping watch. Tough as guts. Kiss kiss.

7th January ‘26

Heat-wave.

Woke early. Called [Redacted] on London time. I miss him so much I feel sick. Context: back down south at my childhood home for a good chunk of the summer in order to get done some writing. Chased vitamin pills with two cups of green tea ‘cause Mama got me a bunch of it for Christmas. Got about fifty of these cotton teabags and another Bible. Suppose these days I’m a simple girl. Thankful. Needn’t think too hard about the implications of her pointing me back to God and all. Implying I’ve once again strayed too far from Him. Planted myself on the white leather sofa and edited a chapter about a girl who hits a fox with her car and a girl who climbs a tree and then falls out of it. Never hit a fox with my car, I should clarify, ‘cause I know when this book comes out I’ll be hit with The Allegations. The auto-fiction allegations, that is. Can’t write a damn fictional thing without being centred in it so it’s best I spill my guts before. Never hit a fox with my car but I once hit a house sparrow whilst going real slow and the poor little fella went into shock. Was on my way to work and couldn’t afford a shift off so scooped the sparrow up and drove him back to my housemates and demanded they hand him over to the local vet for safe-keeping. [Redacted] obliged only ‘cause I was sobbing. Had a lotta feelings, back then. Still do. Kept right on bawling at work. Thought I’d killed the fella. Everybody on shift kept laughing at me for it. [Redacted] called me on my lunch break to inform me the vet had ‘fixed him on up’ and I didn’t learn ’til some years later that ‘fixed him on up’ meant put him to sleep forever ‘cause house sparrows are invasive to our native birds or whatever. Editing does this to me. Makes me sentimental, more soppy than smart. Maybe that does point to auto-fiction. Who cares. Closed my laptop and sulked for a while ‘cause I wanted to lay spread eagle beneath the sun. Context: still rather sunburned from the previous heat-wave, so not exactly allowed to prosper in this one. It’s irresponsible, ya see. Further context: even if I did want to escape shelter, which I really fucking did, my old Ford can’t quite hack the temperature outside of it. God intervening. Resolved to write a poem about the heat-wave instead. Inevitability, Sun, You. Got antsy at my reflection so took a cool shower then pulled out a pair of kitchen scissors and cut off my hair. Fret not, only the ends. Committed to growing. Finally committed to something, at least. Thought a lot about [Redacted] and his resemblance to an angel. Ventured to the back garden and journaled about his resemblance to an angel, laying in a patch of grass tucked in the shade, listening to Marianne Faithfull. Slipped back indoors and lathered my body in cocoa butter while the rice boiled. Imagined how I’d look with hair down to my ankles. Decided if it were ever that long I’d wear it in two braids, permanently. Ate a bowl of rice and loaded up Leon The Professional (1994). One of my favourites, forever. God. The montage of the kid loading guns to the soundscape of Björk. Sensational. Got a little too hot around this point, if you can believe it. Listen. I like the heat but even the fan couldn’t save me. Melted into that leather sofa. Felt my skin fuse to it but didn’t fight back. Surrender, baby. I like it when life feels like this. Poured myself a whiskey on the rocks and sipped at it just for the condensation on my fingers. All I could do was think about Paris. Context: leaving my beloved summer behind for Paris in just some days. Lap it all up. Heat-wave. You know how it goes. Australia likes to show off but only when I think of running. Fell asleep quick ‘cause the room was warm. Dreamt I had to make cups of tea for my grandparents but made them all too sweet. This is the summer I prayed to God for. Blessings.

8th January ‘26

Heat-wave, but a little less of it.

Woke early, fell back to sleep, then woke late. Lathered my sunburn in cocoa butter before pulling on a polka dot dress. Ate a banana then sat in the car to video call [Redacted] and show off my new ring. It’s golden in the shape of a star and says lucky on it. I got it ‘cause I’m lucky and ‘cause I’m golden and ‘cause I’m in the shape of a star, too. It’s a little big but I swell in the summer. Who cares. Chugged the Ford inwards from out west, city-bound but not quite. God, I despise the city down here. Don’t know how I ever did it. Perused a triad of second-hand stores for woollen goods in preparation for the winter I’m due to return to up north but found nothing worthy. Bought a long skirt instead ‘cause I don’t wear trousers and mini-skirts in winter don’t prove too well. Stocked up on jars of bone broth paste that you can only get down south and a colossal jar of eucalyptus honey to get me and [Redacted] through the season. Local honey. Nothing beats it. I’m always hauling it up to London. Last time the glass jar cracked and leaked all through my luggage. Left a sweet trail behind me from Heathrow to Swiss Cottage. Ants woulda loved me. Friend of the critters, I am. Drove back west to Mama’s and settled with a cuppa rosemary tea outside with the manuscript. Laptop damn near melted. Spent an embarrassing amount of time deciding which car the antagonist drove in the sixties and deduced I wouldn’t get much heavy lifting done regarding edits. Resolved to [Redacted] owning a 1964 Holden EH and [Redacted] driving his father’s 1967 Ford XR Falcon. I drive a Falcon. Have I mentioned that? Got a real sweet spot for Fords. They don’t cost too much anymore except for the ones that I want. Always wanted a Bronco from the seventies, treat her to a new coat of red. That’s been my dream car for a while. People laugh when I tell them I drive a Falcon ‘cause they expect me to drive something more sleek. Listen. If I could afford a Jaguar E-Type from the sixties, I would. They did me up as their pin-up girl last September. Got driven around in one, dressed as some kind of sex kitten. Felt real lady-like and proper. Real different to driving yourself around in a Falcon but she’s my baby. Goes real quick. Takes real good care of me, too. Took real good care of my step-father before me. A lifetime of care in this one. My first baby was a Mazda about a decade older than I was and she cost me about a thousand bucks which woulda been a year or so worth of savings. Tricky to save when you move outta home at seventeen. Had a dog, too, and he had problems with his guts. Cost me a small fortune, he did, and he was worth every damn cent. Forgive me. Tendency to go on tangents. You know how it goes. Ate a bowl of salmon and it made me feel queasy for a whole hour. Stationed outside ‘til the temperature dropped less lethal then made my way inwards to do some stuff-sorting. Condensing. Organising. Cramming all my goods into one damn suitcase to get the hell outta here once more. The sun set slow and I went to bed not long after that. Slept like a baby. Blessings.

9th January ‘26

Heat-wave, final day, full dial.