R's workplace told him to stay home. Unlike me who takes sick leave if I can find any reason, R normally soldiers on. Not this time. Luckily it co-incided with the new lappie, so between sleeping and tv in bed, he plays on his lappie and improves his pad skills.
It was my day off and I felt guilty going out and leaving him alone, but my head was so full of computer stuff, I needed to get out.
Tram and train to Moonee Ponds was uneventful. Of course the train went the wrong way around the City Loop, as it always does. There are some stunning houses along the railway line and the trip was interesting enough.
I walked down Puckle Street noting that that hideous block of flats on the south side is looking shabbier than ever. Ah, Hungry Jacks. Last resort if I don't fancy anywhere else to eat. Lookie, a new shopping centre. Investigate on the way back. I did not need to cross the road to the route 59 tram stop, but I did, just for a look around the bus area and a road that seemed to have no cars and only the tram. Yeah, I remember, you can't turn right to get into this road, you must go straight ahead and turn right later.
I reckon it took something like between three and four minutes of waiting time to cross one two lane road. Had I wanted to cross the other side, it would probably be the same, so Lord Sedgwick of Strathmore was pretty well on the money. Absurd. 'Tis a very busy intersection though, with cars.
I worked out what I needed to about the tram. I think the single track is for when Footscray to Moonee Ponds trams are returning to Essendon depot. They cross the junction, shunt down the way a bit and then go back to the depot via the route 59. Correct me here if you know better.
A very attractive young man was eyeing me off (what a quaint expression). He came towards me. He had a heavy Western Euro accent, but no I don't have a spare dollar. You want money from me boyo, you have to get down on your knees and earn it.
I watched the tram arrive from Footscray and the driver pulled in the mirror and changed the destination to Footscray, so clearly the tram was not going to use the single track accross the junction. She then disappeared to do her woman's business or get coffee or whatever.
I walked back along Puckle Street. I wished R was with me. We would stop at one of the thousand cafes and have a nice bite to eat. Ah, bike shop. I remember going in there the last time we were here, just before I begged my Tradie Brother for my Sister's bike. Sadly the bike is seldom used.
Ok, this new shopping centre in behind the shops. All it really was was Target or something like that. I was terribly friendly to lass at the entrance, knowing full well I would be nasty to her when I left and she asked to check the bag I was carrying. It came to pass, but I said nothing, only glared and I have given in to the point that I don't just keep walking and ignoring such people. Shopping centre, boring and souless. To be fair, most of the new shops had not opened yet. The centre will probably ensure the survival of Puckle Street, although it seemed to be doing pretty well under its existing circumstances. One cafe in particular was very busy. The outdoor diners looked to be cast members of the tv show Underbelly.
A tiny cheese burger in Hungry Jacks. Only $2 something. Filled a hole. I was not intersted in a dining experience.
Back to town on the train. I used to pick carriages by closeness to platform exits. Now I choose them by who likely it will be to not be too crowded.
The train came in from an area that you would not call particularly priveledged?, but it was the two men who boarded along with me who caused the heads to turn around. I have noticed in the past that men who get on a train and walk the length of the carriages and then come back to where they boarded are trouble and that was what happened. He wasn't trouble in that he did not interfere with anyone but his behaviour made people feel uncomfortable. A mock fight with a mate and throwing newspapers around is bound to make heads turn.
An older very Australian women complimented a member of a family of four on her beautifully white teeth. Duh, all black people have lovely white teeth don't they? Older very Australian woman had been telling the person sitting opposite her about her neighbour being stabbed. While older Australian woman liked black people with very white teeth, she wasn't so keen on a letter box woman, suggesting that she had no peripheral vision. I was moved to raise my head from my paper, and it wasn't a letter box, it was just a tiny gap and the woman had to keep fiddling with the gap to read her mobile phone screen.
I alighted from the train at Southern Cross Station. Now where does the train to Sydney depart from? No indication obvious to me. I will check later.
Caught tram to Myer, looked in vain for new shirt for niece's deb ball, had coffee at The Wedge and home to groggy patient in bed. R has had a remarkable recovery and is playing on his new lappie nearby as I type.
The family that surfs together, stays together.
Back to Raelene. It does amuse me greatly that both Raelene and Tony sat on their new decking together while they communicated with the world via their respective laptops. Pretty close to what R and I are doing now.