Done

Two and half weeks later, it is done. Click on the pic if you want to see it bigger. It was a co-operative effort. People keep asking will we frame it? Course not. After a week or so, we will break it up and put it in the top of a wardrobe and there it will stay.

It was my step father's birthday last week and his requested gift was a framed picture of Craig's Hut in Victoria's high country. The work was by the same photographer who took the jigsaw picture. We found this out once his gift was unwrapped.

The photographer his Ken Duncan. Here is a link to his website if you would like to take a look at some of his stunning pics.

Blogger going home

This whole blogging thing continues to amaze me (do my head in, if you like). Jessie is going home to Canada after her stay in Melbourne. After reading her blog for some time, I feel a real connection with her. It is the usual, a comment on each other's blog. Adding a blogger to your blog roll. Some people you connect with well from what you read. I have not met her but we did accidently come very close to meeting one night.

A word of advice here to other bloggers. Read quite a bit of my blog before you add me. From just reading a couple of my posts, I may turn out to be a disappointment in the long run.

Back to Jess. It occurred to me the other night that I shan't really miss her, because she will continue to blog. Well, she is thinking of not blogging, but that is beside the point. If she continues, then what has changed?

Jess, I am not trying to offend you or anything like that and of course I think you are quite nice, just using you as example for my wandering thoughts. I am very discerning about who goes on my blog roll.

But already she is writing about stuff more familiar to her which has no relevance to us Aussies. Some game show host has retired. CBS. Is that the US tv company or Canadian Broadcasting Service? And I didn't even think she had left the country yet.

It leads me to think, should when you blog, make a conscious effort for world wide readers? It does rather go against the grain of a blog being a personal diary.

Don't worry Jessie, I will continue to read your blog, so long as you continue to write. It is just that there will be posts I will skip I suppose. I am sure it will be great to see your kin again. Safe trip.

Kissing

It is probably a sign of getting older, but I find tongue in mouth kissing quite distasteful, no, not really distasteful, just boring. I have a vague memory that it can be good. Very vague.

Tongues fighting to explore each other's mouths. Is that lamb or parsley stuck between your teeth? Worse is when you accidently find a plate, that is false teeth. Why is good? I can't remember. I suppose it is a part of the general sex act. The last time I did it, I was mentally writing a food shopping list in my head.

I think you can get far more germs from tongue kissing than oral sex. Oral sex is good, for a few minutes. Not to the point of me having lockjaw or a bruised throat, or if I am the recipient, again writing a shopping list

What about sticking your tongue into someone's ear? I just love lapping up ear wax and I love your slobber all over my ear. But when you stop, my ear gets cold coz it is wet. While I may confess that full on kissing could still work for me, ear stuff never has.

Perhaps I need to get out more. Perhaps I went out too much when I was younger.

Only slightly loopy sister

My sister has gotten over her internalised homophobia. Given she is a lesbian, it is probably a good thing. Her out there girlfriend, the bone sawing surgeon, told us so.

But to give my sister her due, she is a doer and far more busy than myself. She is a teacher and just loves playing sports with the boys and going off on camp with them and has taught in the same school for over ten years. She has travelled the world and Australia.

The donor sperm baby has not happened, but not through want of trying. Ageing hippie sperm can't be too good. Maybe dope kills the active ingredients. (Would I want her as my mother? Nah)

On Saturday night she attended some do in Toorak, drove home to Geelong, mucked up daylight saving time, and then attended a family get together at Lysterfield Lake. We live close to Toorak. Why not stay here overnight? Well, there are issues between R and her but I expect she had to feed her cat.

Poor traumatised pussy. In the storage room under her staircase, her surfboard (yes, she does that too) fell against the door and trapped poor pussy inside. Sis had to bust the door open with a sledge hammer to get pussy out. Pussy was traumatised by the door busting.

At the family picnic before Sis arrived, my mother recounted the tales of Sis's cats and their mostly roadside deaths. I would not want to be her cat.

But Sis had us all in hysterics when demonstating the problems that Mother used to have with washing machines when they were of the turn the knob and then pull it out variety.

She is not great in the technical area though. She mangaged to get the mower started, but when a wheel fell off and rolled down the steep hill, it was left for the bone sawing girlfriend to repair.

As the wheel rollled down the hill gathering speed, with sis in hot pursuit, it is a shame that one of her students just happened to be passing with his parents in a car and called out 'Faster Miss C. You'll catch it'.

Loss of driving confidence

I strarted writing this over a week ago. I feel a reluctance to publish it.

I have mentioned this in a recent post. That is a lack of confidence in my driving ability. It is awful for me. I am a modest and humble person, so I would never say I was a good driver, but compared to most on the road, I don't think I am too bad.

I don't drive too much really as public transtport is readily available and not too bad to use. I drive to and from work, on the same roads and I know them well. The Punt Road and other inner city roads do not worry me. Everthing happens slowly and if someone bangs into you, it won't be a hard hit.

But does the stress level go up or what when I have to drive on a freeway or outer suburban roads. Again I will say I do it competently. I just sit on the speed limit. But why do people pass me and then drive slower than the speed limit and slow me? I tell myself, it does not matter. Plenty of time. I am an A type person forcing myself to be a B type person. I would like to kill the person who does that to me. Mostly it will be a female P plate driver and usually blonde, but often an older person too.

It is difficult to steer a car a one hundred kilometres an hour and keep within your lane, but again, I don't do a bad job of it. So many wander across the lines. I don't.

I hate turning right onto a busy road and I will do things to avoid it if it is possible.

What about these dreadful hoons, who tear about and many have had their cars impounded. Dangerous lads who deserve what they are getting.

I just hate driving. I used to find it such a pleasure.

When I wound the VF Valiant up to 96 mph when I was a youth, it was on a very straight and quiet country road. The car was surging, I believe it is called valve bounce. (disappear for a moment while I have finally found a use for 'convert'), 161kph. I was wrong and stupid. While it was unlikely a kiddie would step out of the bush at 11pm, a critter could have. I might have swerved and hit a tree and killed myself and my mate. I wish I had received a lecture from my father about safe driving, in a practical manner. That is not, don't speed, but give me an example why to not speed. Parents feel free to use my example.

In some ways my father was a good driving example. He never got angry with anyone and drove with competently. Except after he had been drinking and used to swerve all over the road. If it got too bad, we kids would take over.

For your kiddies, you could also try wheelies and smoke cost money. You are burning your tyres.

So how come I could do that, and now find driving at 80 or 100 so hard? I guess the answer is, I am not used to it, certainly driving in the outer burbs and big roads. The 4wd tailgating me on a minor road did not help. I have to laugh how some people from outer subs and the country cry horror at driving in the inner city. We inner city drivers are very forgiving folk. If we wern't, no one would get anywhere.

The Glasshouse

As we sat down to watch The Glasshouse at the beginning of this year, I said to R, 'Oh God, another year of this. I am not sure if I can do it'. But I have not missed and episode and enjoyed it very much. It has nothing to do with Wil Anderson being cute as, or that I even find Corrine Grant rather hot, for a female. Even Dave Hughes is ok, if you like the idea of getting on top (is there a more laconic person alive than Dave?).

They are just very, very funny and that is why I have watched the show since it started. As it has fantastic ratings, the hosts are very popular and it has made the two hundred episode mark, this seems very odd.

ABC management insists axing not commissioning another series next year is nothing to do with the new management regime with it's handpicked Liberal tory party supporters.

Yeah, right.

Matters pc 2 or worry words

Here are a few words or phrases that give me a feeling of concern or alarm when I hear them.

'Politcal correctness', especially if prefaced with 'this is', or 'gone mad' is added after.

'Freedom', especially from God's own George.

'Freedom to choose', especially when uttered by an Australian politician. You can whack in 'choice(s)' there too These are screw the worker words.

'Customer Interface' Groan.

'In efforts to assist our customers' Groan again.

'To improve your ************* experience'

'The bush' That is, those aliens in the countryside.

'Nanny state' We have nanny states because people are so stupid.

'Bloody health and safety rules' They are there to protect people for very good reasons.

'Golden opportunity' Be extra aware if this comes from a real estate agent.

'I was only a little bit over' Ah, you have confessed.

'I was only two minutes' Ah, you have confessed.

'We are doing everything possible', within budgetary restraints of course.

But for most of us, this is the killer. Maybe you do fit the mould. Some do. But for all of us who are not married to a wife or husband around the same age as us and with the same ethnicity and the obligatory two blonde kids, boy and girl and living in a free standing house in a mid to outer suburb. I give you,

TRADITIONAL VALUES.

Things that puzzle me

1/ Why did my sister have last a Friday night dinner with chef Gabriel Gate? And then text me about it? (later found out she was on a table next to him and did chat to him. They were at some country food festival)

2/ How did she get a accent thingy over the top of the 'e' in his name on her mobile? (Later found out the phone did it auto)

3/ When fuelled by the Scottish doctor the other night, how much will my fifteen minute mobile phone call to Japan cost? (Later found out, rather a lot)

4/ Why does no one learn that to turn right at St Kilda Road traffic lights, you need to actually stop at the stop line to bring up the turn arrow? Ah, stopping at a stop line is too hard. Just stop forward or sometimes back a bit.

5/ Why are all doctor's receptionists so snooty?

6/ Why did Cambodia's Tourism minister arrange to be interviewed on Melbourne's gay radio station? Surely Aussie gays going to Cambodia must be pedos.

7/ Why has Melbourne's Indonesian embassy appointed a gay and lesbian liasion officer, taken from the creme of Melbourne's Asain drag scene? Seems they don't practice their Islam like they preach it.

8/ Why did those people leave their bag of rubbish on the picnic table and not take it with them like everyone else and should I make racial judgements about this?

9/ Why can't I drive a motor car with the confidence I did twenty years ago?

10/ Will it ever rain in Victoria again?

Symbolism

Symbolism is important. Saying sorry to our indigenous peoples would not be too hard. I can't believe it would cost anything. And, ya know, we do acutally have a bit to be sorry about. That is the treatment of aborigines in the past by our distant rels. Your argument that you are are newcomer will not wash with me. You would have gone along. It was a different time and standards were different, but that does not make it right.

If done with sincerity, it would be cleansing for us whities and for black fellahs and fellahesses and those in between, it would be stumbling block overcome. The problems will still be there, but we will all feel better about each other. I can just see the tears at the ceremony and the population will cry along too.

I actually think Australia will do better than the Kyoto protocols say we should do, perhaps indirectly. But again symbolism. Why not just damn well sign it. Bother about the details later. While Australia probably cannot ever be green (since it has stopped raining anymore), we can be clean and be an example to the world.

Once we have our act together, then we can strongly pressure India and China and the worst polluter, the US, to move along with us and Europe. Does the US plan to be the dinasour of our time?

Really old stuffs

This morning on the wireless there was some chat about people finding old stuff in houses that they had moved into. While I think it was supposed to be a nice history sort of thing, calls arrived from people who had found heroin secreted in a wall, to old abortion intruments and still working but unmetered gas lamps.

It stimulated me to look into my 'letters' folder in the filing cabinet. I found them easily enough and have now put them in a zip lock bag, as the silverfish had been at them. I can't remember if that was how we found them or the damage has happened since, but as they were in teh filing cabinet, I think it must have happened before. I have scanned them for posterity, just in case.

The first is a letter received by the previous owner and builder of the house we lived in in the early nineties. The suburb name was changed to Glen Iris after we moved. Accompanying the letter was a printed information sheet. From what I can work out, the Federal government wanted to keep the wartime controls on the banks after the end of the war. Banks lobbied hard to stop this. If anyone wants a copy of the form letter, let me know.

The second find was where R lived during the blah blah, King St, East St Kilda. One letter is from the European war front and the other from someone in Hamilton. The others are pretty self explanatory. The photo was taken in the back yard of the mentioned house and the peice of cardboard seems to be a receipt from Foys (a large store I think) and has some calculations on the back, in pounds, shillings and pence.

Master Reset

Later edit: I forgot to mention the mantle clock which I wound and advanced the hour hand. Also forgot the microwave, but it doesn't show the time anymore, well very faintly. One car clock is done. My sister did not forget daylight saving. She just turned her clock back one hour. Schoolteachers!

The annual rob me of an hour of my life day has arrived again.

Three alarm clocks, tick
Two vcrs, tick
One sound system, tick
One wall clock, tick
Two mobile phones, tick
One air con unit, tick
One landline phone base and two handsets, tick

Two car clocks, pending

One pc, looked after itself
One tv, looked after itself

Now I understand why you can update the tv software over the air. Coz when daylight saving starts earlier next year, the tv won't know about it without an update.

If you are reading this and suddenly it dawns on you that daylight saving has started, don't blame yourself too much. There are a lot of you. Sis, you can make it from Geelong to Lysterfield Park in two hours.

PTUA

I have a pretty good, albeit subjective, knowledge of public transport. I work in it and use it. Some time ago, I wrote this post , obviously with the intention of joing the PTUA.

I watch ticket checking people often and with vigilance and I have done so for a long time.
All I ever see them do wrong is continually let people off who have offended without taking their details, both on trains on trams. Many times I have seen and or heard these checking people accept reasonable explanations. I have seen strong behaviour by them, and from my view, quite warranted. I have seen them sit on people and I have seen them corral people. The alternative was to just let them run away. I was shocked once when one told me she targets tourists. I said that is awful to target the ignorant. No, she targets long term backpackers who quickly learn how to use the system. I had a mate from the past who was one of these ticket checking persons. He received a pay out after he was kicked in the face. "Your ticket is not valid Sir." Kick.

I remember a friend of a friend telling me how he travelled from St Kilda to Latrobe Uni at Bundoora for a couple of years without buying a ticket. He was caught twice and had to pay two fines, but he was miles in front. I also remember the first lot of o/s rels who visited. They bought a tickets the first day and never validated them for their five week stay and gave us the still usuable tickets when they left.

I really did have a mind to join the PTUA tonight, but I thought I better have a look at their website again, especially to see if there was a media release about the abolition of Zone 3.

I saw a link to 'How to dispute fines' and took a look. Now I, like most people, have opinions on our public transport system, but we have to travel on with what we have and lobby to change it. But after clicking on the link, the first line I read was 'Most public transport users will, at some point in their travelling experience, have a bad experience with ticket inspectors.' It goes on to detail what your should do if you have a bad experience, that is if you don't have a ticket.

No, I don't feel that I can be part of this group.

New Suit

I have never owned a suit. I have hired one or a few though in the past. You can get away without one for a funeral now, but still not a wedding. Sometimes there are social occasions when you need one too.

The hire price will probably be around one hundred dollars plus. Well, I really wonder why you would bother when you can buy a new suit for sixty dollars. Ok, it is not D&G or even Sires or Peter Jackson, but hey, it is a jacket with matching trousers. No-one will tell your that your pant has a wonderful cut, or it must be tailor made to sit so well.

But after trying one on in an el cheapo shop, I think your sixty dollar suit is not a bad call in comparison to suit hire.

Of course, I wouldn't be seen dead in one.