All Coffee'd Out

We are having a final break at Yass. I went to order a coffee, but then realised it would be my third for the day, and all of a sudden I couldn't face it, and what I really wanted was a cup of tea. And to be able to sit quietly.

A couple of my friends have spent a bit of time with me on the phone on the drive back which helps me on the long drive home. I never enjoy the drive back. I'm tired. And it seems such a long way. Dan is traveling well, but I grow more conscious of his rattles the further I push him. And find myself wondering how nice it would be to drive a slightly newer car. I don't mean that to be mean Dan. Honestly I don't. You are a good boy. But at 354,336km, I realise that he's getting tired.

I made the big decision last night that I would fly instead of driving for Melbourne Cup week. It saves me 2 days in the car. Seeing as I've been home for only 2 days since 18 September, those 2 days suddenly seem worth a lot to me. And given we have driven close to 4,000km in that same period, it seemed like a pretty sound decision.

I should be at Caulfield tomorrow but have had to return to Canberra instead. I have no one to cover the races for me either. And that makes me feel a little down.   We have about 55kms to go. The last stretch on the Barton Highway is always the toughest.

As a side issue, Media Watch did a great piece on the growing tendency of society and news agencies wanting to engage photographers without any payment. Thinking that exposure is a worthwhile compensation. What a stupid argument that is. In the piece they interviewed a couple of prominent photographers who are now trying to survive freelance. One of whom has won a Walkley. Yet he says he struggles to pick up paid work.

I've always been freelance, and touch wood I am still traveling ok, with plenty of work on. However I am always conscious that I am only ever as good as my last shoot, and that I need to push myself, and continue to demand from myself the very best quality images that I can produce. And remind myself that I can never be complacent, or assume others will repay my loyalty and trust.

My head aches a little as I prepare to round us up to return to the car and the road. I miss many things. Maxie is definitely one of them. 

Postscript:

We arrived safely home just after 6.30pm.  Dog tired, I staggered up the steps. I haven't fully unpacked Dan.  The bulbs Jessica and I planted so excitedly last year are continuing to flower. They are pretty.  Maxie looks fabulous, and is pleased to see us.

Dan, at Yass...  Yes, he is creaking and rattling and getting old.  But  he's still going (touch wood).  You're right, I should wipe him down occasionally....

Below - some of my results from the week gone, and the early starts.

Atlantic Jewel, or "AJ" at dawn.  Flemington Racecourse.  She snuck up behind me, but even in the backlit glow, I knew it was her in a heartbeat.

 

Sunrise at Flemington.

 

"AJ" at her stables.

Royal Descent swimming at Flemington

"AJ" swimming

My 'new boy', It's a Dundeel.  His foot was finally beginning to come good.  Poor boy had been as lame as a duck..

Balnarring Beach.  This is where we are going to live.

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