Two friends are overseas, London, at the moment, then they will be on to France, Italy and Croatia. I promised that I would pass news from them onto Dame M. Last night I received a lengthy email from them, so instead of phoning Dame M and reading the contents, I printed it out to hand deliver. Dame M has a computer and used to have an email address. I wonder what happened? Must ask her.
Now there is a small window in Dame M's life between when she regains conciousness in the morning and the hangover lifts and when she checks the time around the world and decides it is six o'clock somewhere, so it must be time for a drink. The middle of said window would probably be about 12.30 pm. It was too early to call in at eleven.
I trammed to St Kilda Junction. Rather than my usual dash across the busy road illegally, I decided I would use the subway. So much crime on tv seems to happen in pedestrain subways, I don't like them at all. The St Kilda Junction ones are very bright with lots of muriels and reasonable lighting. The one I needed was to get to the eastern side of St Kilda Road and then walk up St Kilda hill to Dame M's. It was like being in a wind tunnel. I could almost feel the flesh of my face being pushed back. The wind was carrying a copious number of leaves, smacking me in the face. Most unpleasant.
I delivered the printed email to Dame M's letter box and noted work had started on the house next door. It had been a beautiful house but is in poor condition now. It is a large block of land and the rear is to be demolished for apartments. Should be a reasonable return on the 1.2 paid for it. The sale price certainly has Dame M thinking about her situation.
I continued along Charnwood Road and by golly, there are some mighty fine houses along there. Most have been restored and are absolutely stunning. I had never noticed from the car how grand they are. Sadly they are interspersed with that Melbourne abomination, the sixties brick flats. At the end is one block where my friend in Sydney brother lived and next door is another that we looked at to buy an investment flat before we bought in Hotham Street. There are also some very nice new small scale apartment developments. Not a bad area to live at all. Must return with the camera.
I picked up a movie guide from the Astor. Not that we ever go, but I always imagine that we will. I walked up Chapel Street as the smack heads came in the other direction, eyes fixed and staring, parachute fabric tracks suits billowing in the breeze. Noticed a useful shop has closed and another trendy caf is opening in it's place. Windsor ain't what it used to be.
A tram arrived, a very old tram that should have been pensioned off years ago. It rattled, grinded, growled and squealed it way in the usual stop start traffic and I alighted at the supermarket for some shopping.
While I usually like old stuffs, I am not keen on our old trams for general public transport.
Heavily laden with shopping, I hoped for a bus to come to drop me at the front door, but alas, no bus in view but a tram arrived. I should know better. By the time I reached the Alfred on the tram, a bus roared past the tram. Stagger off tram with shopping and walk much further that I would have had to if I waited for the bus.
Afternoon into the city to meet ex building manager's wife for coffee. She is now a relief building manager for a couple of different companies. Nice chat and exchange of gossip.
At five to four, I was waiting at the corner of Latrobe and King Street for a tram and I noticed five tow trucks lined up. Anticipation of a mega accident? Don't think so. I think they were ready to tow away cars in King Street as the clearway starts at four. I almost wanted to miss the tram that arrived at 3.59 and watch them go off in convoy but you can't afford to miss a tram in Latrobe Street, as there aren't too many of them. An old mate John was on the tram. Said a brief hello and got off at Swanston Street to go on to QV for a special purchase.