I have this little green rucksack I take everywhere with me. And I do mean pretty much everywhere.
Originally it was the 'day pack' belonging to the big backpack that was my leaving gift from the advertising agency I worked for in Brisbane, when I was made redundant and decided to try my luck in London. It zips onto the front of the backpack for travelling and then detaches for day use. I still have the backpack too, with the Australian flag I sewed onto the pocket for easy identification and patriotism, languishing in a cupboard in the spare room with blankets and pillows. I never actually went backpacking, but it served as my suitcase for a couple of months while I travelled (with my mother! on coach tours!) around Britain and Europe before settling in London.
But this rucksack. It's so handy. It accomodates my bottle of water, my book(s), my journal, my umbrella (woe betide the fool who goes anywhere in the UK without an umbrella), an emergency stash of pills and herbal remedies, pens, a hairbrush, handcream and other things besides. I take it to work, to the library, grocery shopping, to the movies, pretty much everywhere. It carries books as happily as it does apples and grapes.
I love backpacks. My shoulders start to scream in pain if either of them is singled out for load-bearing responsibilities, but they're happy to share the weight using a backpack. My green bag has a largish pocket at the front which is perfect for keeping a few small essentials, and a wonderful open pocket at the back which lies snug against my back - ideal for magazines or maps or plastic bags or anything flat which needs to be got at quickly. I can't imagine a bag more suited to carrying around my daily life.
I need to get a new one, I know, a smarter one, one that's more business like, less...... green. But I am so loathe to get rid of it. That's why when the zip broke I pinned it together and somehow made it work again. Why when it broke again I just re-zipped it every time (every day) it came apart. Why I ignore the fact that the lining has almost completely flaked off and leaves traces of itself on any clothing I might carry in it (probably because when the bag gets a bit grubby (as is normal for anything that travels on the tube) I throw it in the washing machine). Why I finally, last week, sewed up the zip partway so it had more strength.
I tell myself I'm being environmentally sound, reusing rather than replacing, mending and making do. But it's more than that - in some way it's a talisman, a symbol of my survival in this cold and often unfriendly city, of almost nine years of living here. It's one of the only things I brought from Australia with me and still use. I think it's got a few more years in it.
Originally it was the 'day pack' belonging to the big backpack that was my leaving gift from the advertising agency I worked for in Brisbane, when I was made redundant and decided to try my luck in London. It zips onto the front of the backpack for travelling and then detaches for day use. I still have the backpack too, with the Australian flag I sewed onto the pocket for easy identification and patriotism, languishing in a cupboard in the spare room with blankets and pillows. I never actually went backpacking, but it served as my suitcase for a couple of months while I travelled (with my mother! on coach tours!) around Britain and Europe before settling in London.
But this rucksack. It's so handy. It accomodates my bottle of water, my book(s), my journal, my umbrella (woe betide the fool who goes anywhere in the UK without an umbrella), an emergency stash of pills and herbal remedies, pens, a hairbrush, handcream and other things besides. I take it to work, to the library, grocery shopping, to the movies, pretty much everywhere. It carries books as happily as it does apples and grapes.
I love backpacks. My shoulders start to scream in pain if either of them is singled out for load-bearing responsibilities, but they're happy to share the weight using a backpack. My green bag has a largish pocket at the front which is perfect for keeping a few small essentials, and a wonderful open pocket at the back which lies snug against my back - ideal for magazines or maps or plastic bags or anything flat which needs to be got at quickly. I can't imagine a bag more suited to carrying around my daily life.
I need to get a new one, I know, a smarter one, one that's more business like, less...... green. But I am so loathe to get rid of it. That's why when the zip broke I pinned it together and somehow made it work again. Why when it broke again I just re-zipped it every time (every day) it came apart. Why I ignore the fact that the lining has almost completely flaked off and leaves traces of itself on any clothing I might carry in it (probably because when the bag gets a bit grubby (as is normal for anything that travels on the tube) I throw it in the washing machine). Why I finally, last week, sewed up the zip partway so it had more strength.
I tell myself I'm being environmentally sound, reusing rather than replacing, mending and making do. But it's more than that - in some way it's a talisman, a symbol of my survival in this cold and often unfriendly city, of almost nine years of living here. It's one of the only things I brought from Australia with me and still use. I think it's got a few more years in it.
1 comment:
I agree, rucksacs are handy, not like the enormous erray of 'fashionable' handbags what we sell. Most women these days are unpractical though! My dad calls handbags arm candy (I think he's being reading 'Heat' magazine on the quiet!)
I like Uncle M's myspace page, it's great that you can hear his poems being read, adds a different element to poetry.
xx
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