I was going to write about how terribly disadvantaged a friend is by the new train timetables that began today. But then when I checked, I don't seem to be able to defend him. He moaned on and on about it on Saturday when we last saw him. I thought before I lambasted the train company for their new timetables on his behalf, I ought to take a look myself. I did.
I know he travels on the Dandenong train line. I am old, and I know it as the Dandenong line with only a few trains going further on to the GMH railway station. Even when suburban trains were extended further out to service the area where Mother's lives, she preferred the country train and more than once got into trouble from the conductor for using it when she wasn't supposed to. Already back then she was honing her silly old lady persona. Of course she got it wrong once and ended up in Nar Nar Goon or Tynong North Upper or somewhere. She had to call Step Father to collect her.
Ok, friend lives on the Pakenham/Cranbourne line. I must not let modernity pass me by. He catches the train at around 8.00am to go to work and alights at Flagstaff Station. He has complained in the past about how his packed express train gets delayed by a stopping all stations train because his train is late and misses its slot to overtake the stopping all stations train. The express train he catches, if everything goes to plan, is as fast as journey as can be reasonably expected.
Before I had finished asking him if he had checked out the new timetable he interrupted with the disadvantage to him by the new timetable, giving me the impression that hardly any trains will stop at his station. I interrupted him with, there will be winners and losers. Looks like you will be the latter.
Well, oddly today, even after the new timetables have started, the old one was still up online and so made it an easy comparison. I thought his train options were to be cut back to Flinders Street and then a train change to get to Flagstaff. No, his train options still take him to Flagstaff. I see one disadvantage, his train options at the time he catches the train are reduced express trains, but it seems to only add two minutes to his journey. If the reliability is improved, then surely that is a fair trade off.
From what I understand, people on the Frankston line might be suffering a lot more with express trains only going to Flinders Street. I will guess that this will reduce the appeal of the express trains a make non express trains more attractive, thus evening out some uneven loadings.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Tube v. Loop
From Annie Mole's London Underground Blog. Read the full post here.
I found this part of the post, copied below, quite fascinating. I wonder if similar thought is given to such matters in Australia. I do recall experimentation at our city stations with placement of ticket barriers when Metcard was introduced. At times though crowd movement, especially at Flinders Street, looks very messy to me.
Iain Huston from passenger space modelling, followed with an insightful talk on how the London Underground use computerised models to help our journeys. Although you might not think it, Tfl do value our time. In fact they've even measured how various travellers value time. I imagined that Tube commuters thought their time was most valuable. But they only value their time at £8 an hour, whereas a taxi passenger values theirs at a massive £31 an hour.
Good levels of service are also measured by how much space a person has to themselves. Your journey is actually perceived as better or faster, if there is less congestion, even if in reality it takes longer to complete.
London Underground study people's movement through Tube stations and can work out how to slow things down if certain stations get overly congested. Placement of ticket gates can make a big difference to passenger flow. The images below show how the ticket hall layouts at Euston were improved to stop congestion.
We learnt that unreasonable behaviour is also taken into account. Tourists going the wrong way, people finding short cuts are all put into the models to work out the best flow. Some stations are lucky as they have more 'trained commuters'. The ticket gates at Bank at the Waterloo & City line are used by 'model commuters' who are amongst the fastest travellers on the system, have their Oyster cards ready in advance, know where the best exits are & walk quickly.
The green dots are passengers arriving at the station and the red, those who are leaving the station. Before and post alterations are in order. The pink dots are lost tourists, station staff, beggars, prostitutes and buskers. Ok, the last sentence is a very wild stab in the dark.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Just another rainy Sunday
Not too wet, but too wet to take Little Jo out to the park while we looked after her this afternoon while Sister went to the football. Her team won, so she is happy. I am not a football team hater and I don't begrudge her team a win but I did suggest she be careful not to do an Isadora Duncan with her scarf triumphantly out the car window while it was still around her neck. She is ten years younger than I am and not a gay male, so she just did not get that at all. If you fall into that category too and don't know, try googlieing Isadora Duncan scarf.
Sister and Little Jo arrived at 12, Mother and ABI brother at 2 and all had gone by 5.30. It only feels like people have been here for ten hours. We put on a fine bit of nosh for all and I have never seen Little Jo eat and drink so much. I fear there'll be an shocking explosion sometimes between now and tomorrow morning. Not my problem.
We did venture out in the morning. I am not much of one for McDonalds, but I have been twice in the last six weeks. Once to try an Angus burger, ho hum. This morning to try a breakfast roll, very nice. How shabby and dowdy the St Kilda Road McDonalds is looking. It is well due for an upgrade.
The main reason to go out was to buy a new cordless keyboard and mouse, our fourth set. I can't recall why the others were ditched. One was because it was white and our new computer was black, as was the monitor. Each new one is an improvement over the previous. The first couple we bought were shockingly troublesome with their connectivity to the computer or the transceiver. I am not usually one to throw a tantrum about computer related matters, as it fixes nothing. I leave the tantrums to R, who has someone else, me, to blame. But a tantrum I did throw over one of them. I just could not get it to work. I went back to the store and the clever person told me to go home, plug it back in, and it would work. Lo, it did. Like us, it just needed a bit of a lie down.
Oh yes, the old mouse starting double clicking when you single clicked, resulting in closing windows you wanted open, going back two pages instead of one and sending emails before they were ready to send. Sorry 'bout that Jayne. I altered the click speed, but it still played up.
The nice new Logitech was reduced at Harvey Norman from $129 to $58. Best thing, I got it home, plugged it in and it worked. No fiddling, plugging and unplugging and pressing connect buttons endlessly. The mouse is great to use. I am hitting quite a few wrong keys on the keyboard though, but the letters keys are ok, just some of the others must be a bit different. There is an extra button to press in conjunction with the F keys to give extra functions and four of them I can customise and a key to press for battery condition in the mouse. A battery symbol light comes on and shows the charge level in the batteries. But the brand new batteries that came with it are indicating half charge.
I normally use rechargeable batteries that need recharging about every three weeks. The promise is that normal batteries for this new unit will last eight months and the keyboard over twelve months. There is a button on the underside of the mouse to turn it off. We will see. I do like getting new toys to play with. Gee, after six. I am overdue for a large stiff one.
Sister and Little Jo arrived at 12, Mother and ABI brother at 2 and all had gone by 5.30. It only feels like people have been here for ten hours. We put on a fine bit of nosh for all and I have never seen Little Jo eat and drink so much. I fear there'll be an shocking explosion sometimes between now and tomorrow morning. Not my problem.
We did venture out in the morning. I am not much of one for McDonalds, but I have been twice in the last six weeks. Once to try an Angus burger, ho hum. This morning to try a breakfast roll, very nice. How shabby and dowdy the St Kilda Road McDonalds is looking. It is well due for an upgrade.
The main reason to go out was to buy a new cordless keyboard and mouse, our fourth set. I can't recall why the others were ditched. One was because it was white and our new computer was black, as was the monitor. Each new one is an improvement over the previous. The first couple we bought were shockingly troublesome with their connectivity to the computer or the transceiver. I am not usually one to throw a tantrum about computer related matters, as it fixes nothing. I leave the tantrums to R, who has someone else, me, to blame. But a tantrum I did throw over one of them. I just could not get it to work. I went back to the store and the clever person told me to go home, plug it back in, and it would work. Lo, it did. Like us, it just needed a bit of a lie down.
Oh yes, the old mouse starting double clicking when you single clicked, resulting in closing windows you wanted open, going back two pages instead of one and sending emails before they were ready to send. Sorry 'bout that Jayne. I altered the click speed, but it still played up.
The nice new Logitech was reduced at Harvey Norman from $129 to $58. Best thing, I got it home, plugged it in and it worked. No fiddling, plugging and unplugging and pressing connect buttons endlessly. The mouse is great to use. I am hitting quite a few wrong keys on the keyboard though, but the letters keys are ok, just some of the others must be a bit different. There is an extra button to press in conjunction with the F keys to give extra functions and four of them I can customise and a key to press for battery condition in the mouse. A battery symbol light comes on and shows the charge level in the batteries. But the brand new batteries that came with it are indicating half charge.
I normally use rechargeable batteries that need recharging about every three weeks. The promise is that normal batteries for this new unit will last eight months and the keyboard over twelve months. There is a button on the underside of the mouse to turn it off. We will see. I do like getting new toys to play with. Gee, after six. I am overdue for a large stiff one.
Last one standing
This is the last house in St Kilda to be still privately owned. Quite nice it is too in an understated manner. The owner tends the gardens personally and the house looks to be well maintained. I have had communication with the owner some time ago about outside advertising in St Kilda Road. It won't be a surprise to any of you that both he and I thought badly of the crude and cheap advertising.
Our friend Vik and I sat outdoors at a cafe in St Kilda Road having lunch one day and as she spent a good bit of her childhood as a St Kilda Road resident, I pressed her as to where the the Post Office was back then. Her memory of it was as hazy as mine. I had been there, but of the remaining old buildings in St Kilda Road, I could not work out which one it was. I remembered only the entrance.
I have looked carefully at every possible building trying to work out which one was the Post Office. I am fairly sure the last privately owned house in St Kilda Road was the Post Office. Correct me if you can.
Our friend Vik and I sat outdoors at a cafe in St Kilda Road having lunch one day and as she spent a good bit of her childhood as a St Kilda Road resident, I pressed her as to where the the Post Office was back then. Her memory of it was as hazy as mine. I had been there, but of the remaining old buildings in St Kilda Road, I could not work out which one it was. I remembered only the entrance.
I have looked carefully at every possible building trying to work out which one was the Post Office. I am fairly sure the last privately owned house in St Kilda Road was the Post Office. Correct me if you can.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Mother Muddlings
There could well be some contradictions below. I spoke to Mother this week and chickened out on mentioning her lack of money, more money from Bone Doctor and primarily, that she can't afford to continue to live in the house.
Mother's last letter told me about her 'friend', I know not who, who owned the cow that it is a tv advert which I have only half seen. Something about a cow playing Putting on the Ritz on a keyboard with its hooves. During the transport to film the commercial, the transport vehicle was involved in an accident and the float was smashed up. The cow emerged unscathed and unworried and after alternate transport was arranged, went on to make the commercial.
Part one, written early March.
It is clear to all, including Mother, that her living situation is not sustainable, mainly for financial reasons. Bone Doctor gave her $5000 for emergencies and peace of mind that will have to repaid at some point, but she has been making a dent on on it.
Various solutions have been suggested. She is dead against some sort of retirement village. She is dead against 'a poky little unit'. Beggars can't be choosers, you may think, but we children cannot challenge her. She is fine mentally and can physically manage ok, so long as we prop her up with help for doctor's and shopping and friends help out. She plays the helpless widow very well.
Her only luxuries are smoking and feeding the cats, a total of maybe $50 a week. Otherwise, she is quite frugal now, unlike in the past.
Her block of land could be dual occupancy done, with a new unit for her at the rear and knocking down the present house and building another. We have talked about this a little, but Tradie Brother has never run with idea.
She could sell her house and build a self contained unit or granny flat at ABI Brother's place.
We treat all such ideas with great levity. Sister says, well Andrew, you have a spare room. I say, Sister, it is the daughter's duty to look after her mother. After visiting the caravan and camping show, I am saying to ABI Brother, she could buy a Winnebago and park it in your driveway and live there. ABI brother rarely flushes his toilet in the interests of water conservation and leaves dirty greasy water in his sink and basin. They just could not live so close by.
Sister, I say, once Bone Doctor is permanent somewhere, you must buy a house with a bedroom for Mother. It goes on and on with much joking. None of us even seriously consider having her live with any of us.
She has said that she will stay in her house until she feels it is right to move. While we and friends continue to prop her up, the situation is prolonged. But what else can we do but look after Mother.
About a year ago we kiddies started to pay for Mother's private health insurance. She hadn't had it for years. She couldn't afford it but she was very concerned about being at the mercy of the public system. I believe in the public health system, but you do get to an age when you start to worry, so a few years ago we joined my work based health insurance. We haven't made a claim yet, but I expect we will. I also expect once the waiting period for Mother's cover is over, she will get serious benefit from it.
Eventually Bone Doctor's money will be so depleted, that Mother will realise that she just cannot continue to live in a three bedroom house and pay the bills. This must be the crunch time.
Part 2, written this week.
Mother is the biggest problem in our lives at the moment. Sister told me tonight that Mother has asked Bone Doctor for the rest of the promised $10,000. Mother has received $5000 already and has spent it in a bit over six months. Some people can survive on a pension. Clearly Mother cannot. She is not spending money on luxuries, except for cigarettes, maybe $50 a week, maybe more. She is smoking more since Step Father died and he has stopped yelling at her for lighting up. I will remind her the next time she wants me to take the curtains down for washing because they are looking grubby. Why might that be Mother? The cat food for the strays cost a bit. They evidently need special cat milk too. The only heating or cooling Mother has is an old air con unit. The gas heater irreparably failed a couple of years ago. Her last electric bill, over Autumn, the time we have a minimal heating/cooling bill, was $500. It does include cooking and hot water, but even so. She spends a lot at the chemist on attempts to cure her ills. Mostly fruitless.
The already supplied $5000 was supposed to be emergency money, some of which might go to efficient heating and cooling. Fat chance.
Her council rates had to be paid, $900. Perhaps I need to tell her about budgeting?
Clearly she can't stay in a three bedroom house on a large block and financially survive. She has no great attachment to Pakenham, apart from ABI brother living there now. I did ask her.
Options:
1/ Tradie Brother steps up and builds five units on the block. Mother will have one. This needs to be financed and is very complicated financially. I will directly ask Tradie Brother and see if it can be struck off the list or he likes the idea. (I did ask and he doesn't like it)
2/ Granny flat in ABI brother's back yard. He has a corner block and it is feasible. It is a bit out of town and Mother likes to observe the street life. She would feel locked away.
3/ An existing unit, almost a direct change over. Easiest, but she says, oh, neighbours would know my comings and goings and my business. Hello? They do already.
4/ Retirement village. My mother is just so not the retirement village type. They are generally quite expensive too. She needs to free up some capital.
5/ Not sure if sister's new house is capable of hosting a granny flat. Everytime I tell Sister that it is the duty of a daughter to look after elderly parents, Sister points out that we have a spare bedroom. Cow.
I think Bone Doctor will give Mother the rest of the money, but gee, she and Sister need the money themselves for their new house. And Mother needs to realise that her situation is not sustainable and that she is living beyond her income.
Mother's last letter told me about her 'friend', I know not who, who owned the cow that it is a tv advert which I have only half seen. Something about a cow playing Putting on the Ritz on a keyboard with its hooves. During the transport to film the commercial, the transport vehicle was involved in an accident and the float was smashed up. The cow emerged unscathed and unworried and after alternate transport was arranged, went on to make the commercial.
Part one, written early March.
It is clear to all, including Mother, that her living situation is not sustainable, mainly for financial reasons. Bone Doctor gave her $5000 for emergencies and peace of mind that will have to repaid at some point, but she has been making a dent on on it.
Various solutions have been suggested. She is dead against some sort of retirement village. She is dead against 'a poky little unit'. Beggars can't be choosers, you may think, but we children cannot challenge her. She is fine mentally and can physically manage ok, so long as we prop her up with help for doctor's and shopping and friends help out. She plays the helpless widow very well.
Her only luxuries are smoking and feeding the cats, a total of maybe $50 a week. Otherwise, she is quite frugal now, unlike in the past.
Her block of land could be dual occupancy done, with a new unit for her at the rear and knocking down the present house and building another. We have talked about this a little, but Tradie Brother has never run with idea.
She could sell her house and build a self contained unit or granny flat at ABI Brother's place.
We treat all such ideas with great levity. Sister says, well Andrew, you have a spare room. I say, Sister, it is the daughter's duty to look after her mother. After visiting the caravan and camping show, I am saying to ABI Brother, she could buy a Winnebago and park it in your driveway and live there. ABI brother rarely flushes his toilet in the interests of water conservation and leaves dirty greasy water in his sink and basin. They just could not live so close by.
Sister, I say, once Bone Doctor is permanent somewhere, you must buy a house with a bedroom for Mother. It goes on and on with much joking. None of us even seriously consider having her live with any of us.
She has said that she will stay in her house until she feels it is right to move. While we and friends continue to prop her up, the situation is prolonged. But what else can we do but look after Mother.
About a year ago we kiddies started to pay for Mother's private health insurance. She hadn't had it for years. She couldn't afford it but she was very concerned about being at the mercy of the public system. I believe in the public health system, but you do get to an age when you start to worry, so a few years ago we joined my work based health insurance. We haven't made a claim yet, but I expect we will. I also expect once the waiting period for Mother's cover is over, she will get serious benefit from it.
Eventually Bone Doctor's money will be so depleted, that Mother will realise that she just cannot continue to live in a three bedroom house and pay the bills. This must be the crunch time.
Part 2, written this week.
Mother is the biggest problem in our lives at the moment. Sister told me tonight that Mother has asked Bone Doctor for the rest of the promised $10,000. Mother has received $5000 already and has spent it in a bit over six months. Some people can survive on a pension. Clearly Mother cannot. She is not spending money on luxuries, except for cigarettes, maybe $50 a week, maybe more. She is smoking more since Step Father died and he has stopped yelling at her for lighting up. I will remind her the next time she wants me to take the curtains down for washing because they are looking grubby. Why might that be Mother? The cat food for the strays cost a bit. They evidently need special cat milk too. The only heating or cooling Mother has is an old air con unit. The gas heater irreparably failed a couple of years ago. Her last electric bill, over Autumn, the time we have a minimal heating/cooling bill, was $500. It does include cooking and hot water, but even so. She spends a lot at the chemist on attempts to cure her ills. Mostly fruitless.
The already supplied $5000 was supposed to be emergency money, some of which might go to efficient heating and cooling. Fat chance.
Her council rates had to be paid, $900. Perhaps I need to tell her about budgeting?
Clearly she can't stay in a three bedroom house on a large block and financially survive. She has no great attachment to Pakenham, apart from ABI brother living there now. I did ask her.
Options:
1/ Tradie Brother steps up and builds five units on the block. Mother will have one. This needs to be financed and is very complicated financially. I will directly ask Tradie Brother and see if it can be struck off the list or he likes the idea. (I did ask and he doesn't like it)
2/ Granny flat in ABI brother's back yard. He has a corner block and it is feasible. It is a bit out of town and Mother likes to observe the street life. She would feel locked away.
3/ An existing unit, almost a direct change over. Easiest, but she says, oh, neighbours would know my comings and goings and my business. Hello? They do already.
4/ Retirement village. My mother is just so not the retirement village type. They are generally quite expensive too. She needs to free up some capital.
5/ Not sure if sister's new house is capable of hosting a granny flat. Everytime I tell Sister that it is the duty of a daughter to look after elderly parents, Sister points out that we have a spare bedroom. Cow.
I think Bone Doctor will give Mother the rest of the money, but gee, she and Sister need the money themselves for their new house. And Mother needs to realise that her situation is not sustainable and that she is living beyond her income.
Friday, June 04, 2010
An Era Ends and a Puzzlement
For around three years we have been going to Brunswick Street in Fitzroy to get our hair cuts. GI Joes opened in Prahran some time before then and we went their for a short time but we weren't keen on the staff. The hair cuts were good though, and cheap, at $15 for me. There was a branch in Richmond, where we have also been, but the Fitzroy branch was our preference. We liked the staff, especially the Kiwi born Di, who left not long ago, and Meng, the Asian guy.
The business is closing for the cafe Madame Sousou next door to expand. If I have been waiting for R to have his haircut, I walk the side streets. I have walked the side streets regardless when I get my hair cut. It is a very old and interesting area. If you need a fix of info, news and photos of Fitzroy, you would not find a better site to visit than Fitzroyalty.
I will leave Fitzroy with a puzzlement. Over the top of the windows to the side you can see the original brick arch lintels. They don't stand out at all. Why does the central window have a different arch lintel? It does not look as if it was recently added and the brickwork under it is original. I suspect something has been removed that protected the brickwork from weather. The bricks not laid with the same care or cleaning as the rest, because they wouldn't be seen. I think I was in Kent Street. Anyway, odd. Suggestions welcome.
The business is closing for the cafe Madame Sousou next door to expand. If I have been waiting for R to have his haircut, I walk the side streets. I have walked the side streets regardless when I get my hair cut. It is a very old and interesting area. If you need a fix of info, news and photos of Fitzroy, you would not find a better site to visit than Fitzroyalty.
I will leave Fitzroy with a puzzlement. Over the top of the windows to the side you can see the original brick arch lintels. They don't stand out at all. Why does the central window have a different arch lintel? It does not look as if it was recently added and the brickwork under it is original. I suspect something has been removed that protected the brickwork from weather. The bricks not laid with the same care or cleaning as the rest, because they wouldn't be seen. I think I was in Kent Street. Anyway, odd. Suggestions welcome.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Live post. Two boys dead
I am not trying to play the clever person or the holier than thou role, but when I heard about the two boys dying in their Mooroopna home with their mother nearby, immediately something did not gel. Everyone seemed to be drawing fast conclusions that the mother had done them in, but it was not the case, well not with any intent. She may have done so by not having her gas heater serviced every two years, but who does that?
Nah, it seemed a bit to odd to me. Nothing made sense until I heard about the carbon monoxide spewing heater.
Kids are dead and past caring, but sheesh, don't you feel for their for parents and families. What a horrible thing.
Nah, it seemed a bit to odd to me. Nothing made sense until I heard about the carbon monoxide spewing heater.
Kids are dead and past caring, but sheesh, don't you feel for their for parents and families. What a horrible thing.
Open up
We designed our own kitchens for three different houses, successfully. After knocking a wall out at our Glen Iris house, we had a huge space and we filled it with cupboards and pantries, which in turn filled themselves with STUFF.
I like our kitchen here. It is good to work in except for awful corner cupboards and some cupboards being to high. But it is not blessed with a lot of storage space and as we mostly cook meals at home, we need a certain amount of goodies in storage. So we us a couple of shelves in the linen press for the overflow.
Top shelf is the sewing box, various platters, a tea pot, a large stainless steel pot, a blender and a seldom used electric griller.
The next shelf down is mostly spare foodstuffs. Some because the opened product is running out, some things bought because they were on special, such as the coffee and the cereal because the large boxes won't fit into the kitchen cupboard they are supposed to go in. Behind the cereal are all sorts of small bits and pieces in a basket such as yeast, various exoctic teas, small jars of jam etc. We clean it out every so often.
Next down is a mixture of reusable bags, spare linen, table cloths, spare paper towel, more gifted foodstuffs in the box, spare tissues, Coke, soda water and juice for Little Jo. There is often a good bit more on this shelf.
The shelf under that has two sets of towels, that is two towels, two bath mats and one hand towel and of course there is a third set which is in use. The rest are a mix of towels for visitors or whatever and a couple of beach towels. Tea towels are at the front and old tea towels, now used as dusters, at the rear.
Bottom is spare vac bags, two tool boxes full of tools, the revolta vacuum cleaner and extension lead. In behind the vac is a steel box with the drill and jigsaw in it and a spirit level.
I like our kitchen here. It is good to work in except for awful corner cupboards and some cupboards being to high. But it is not blessed with a lot of storage space and as we mostly cook meals at home, we need a certain amount of goodies in storage. So we us a couple of shelves in the linen press for the overflow.
Top shelf is the sewing box, various platters, a tea pot, a large stainless steel pot, a blender and a seldom used electric griller.
The next shelf down is mostly spare foodstuffs. Some because the opened product is running out, some things bought because they were on special, such as the coffee and the cereal because the large boxes won't fit into the kitchen cupboard they are supposed to go in. Behind the cereal are all sorts of small bits and pieces in a basket such as yeast, various exoctic teas, small jars of jam etc. We clean it out every so often.
Next down is a mixture of reusable bags, spare linen, table cloths, spare paper towel, more gifted foodstuffs in the box, spare tissues, Coke, soda water and juice for Little Jo. There is often a good bit more on this shelf.
The shelf under that has two sets of towels, that is two towels, two bath mats and one hand towel and of course there is a third set which is in use. The rest are a mix of towels for visitors or whatever and a couple of beach towels. Tea towels are at the front and old tea towels, now used as dusters, at the rear.
Bottom is spare vac bags, two tool boxes full of tools, the revolta vacuum cleaner and extension lead. In behind the vac is a steel box with the drill and jigsaw in it and a spirit level.
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
The Reading Guilt
I should not feel guilty. I am doing what I want to, that is reading a daily newspaper during the week, the local newspapers and occasionally the gay weeklies, although the latter has decreasing relevance to me. Of course I read an awful lot on this screen but I don't like long reads on the net. One page is usually enough for me.
What I am not reading is books. The same one has been on my bedside table for more than a month, maybe two even. It is a book full of anecdotes from outback Australia. It was a gift at christmas, so I feel obliged to read it. It is ok, but not what I would call gripping. It is just easy to pick up and put down. Perhaps I should read a good novel.
What troubles me is that in pre internet days, I used to devour books at the rate of two or three a week, as well as reading more newspapers. Aren't we to believe that books are good and educational and the internet is bad and addictive?
Some of you might think, well if High Riser spent a bit less time writing posts for his blog and a bit more time reading books, the world would be a better place.
Maybe, but I tell myself if I wanted to read books so much, I would.
I work a 40 hour week. Often my travel time to and from work is 80 minutes if I come home for lunch. Personal relationship to attend to, family matters, friends, house work, blogging, taking snaps when out and about. I do like being out and about looking at various things. I have seen a stunning single storey house with a beautiful garden. To take some snaps of it is the next expedition.
So, while I am the poorer for it, reading books just does not get much of a look in now. If you want a reader, take a look at The Resident Judge of Port Phillip blog. She churns through them writes about them too.
What I am not reading is books. The same one has been on my bedside table for more than a month, maybe two even. It is a book full of anecdotes from outback Australia. It was a gift at christmas, so I feel obliged to read it. It is ok, but not what I would call gripping. It is just easy to pick up and put down. Perhaps I should read a good novel.
What troubles me is that in pre internet days, I used to devour books at the rate of two or three a week, as well as reading more newspapers. Aren't we to believe that books are good and educational and the internet is bad and addictive?
Some of you might think, well if High Riser spent a bit less time writing posts for his blog and a bit more time reading books, the world would be a better place.
Maybe, but I tell myself if I wanted to read books so much, I would.
I work a 40 hour week. Often my travel time to and from work is 80 minutes if I come home for lunch. Personal relationship to attend to, family matters, friends, house work, blogging, taking snaps when out and about. I do like being out and about looking at various things. I have seen a stunning single storey house with a beautiful garden. To take some snaps of it is the next expedition.
So, while I am the poorer for it, reading books just does not get much of a look in now. If you want a reader, take a look at The Resident Judge of Port Phillip blog. She churns through them writes about them too.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Outback environment
You can read about how clever crows deal with cane toads back here.
I also wrote about Australia's imported pests here. I wonder if I should have included non Aboriginal people too? Speaking of which, what an exciting find the recent Aboriginal rock art is. It possibly dates back to when Australia had mega fauna. See what your bible bashers have to say about creation now.
Cane toads are marching on and it is depressing that neither crows or humans with golf clubs can stop them.
It seems we will never win against the little pests, but there are larger pests we can eliminate.
Buffalo. We have made a good effort against buffalo, but I believe there are still wild ones. They are not hard to get rid of if a concentrated effort is made. Sympathy factor for buffalo, maybe 3/10.
Camels. Not as bad as buffalo perhaps, but there are so many of them and they are a serious pest. Sympathy factor, 5/10
Goats. They could come back even if all wild goats are killed. Some idiots will let domestic goats go wild again. Sympathy factor 2/10
Pigs. Nearly impossible to eliminate, but that is no reason to not try. Pig hunters won't like the numbers reduced. Otherwise, sympathy factor 1/10.
Which brings me to the final one, where I am not going to win friends perhaps. The critter called a brumby has been around a long time, as has its name. Why was it given a softening name so early on and not named as what it really is, a wild horse? We don't need wild horses stomping their hooves all over our country but the problem is, sympathy factor 9/10.
I also wrote about Australia's imported pests here. I wonder if I should have included non Aboriginal people too? Speaking of which, what an exciting find the recent Aboriginal rock art is. It possibly dates back to when Australia had mega fauna. See what your bible bashers have to say about creation now.
Cane toads are marching on and it is depressing that neither crows or humans with golf clubs can stop them.
It seems we will never win against the little pests, but there are larger pests we can eliminate.
Buffalo. We have made a good effort against buffalo, but I believe there are still wild ones. They are not hard to get rid of if a concentrated effort is made. Sympathy factor for buffalo, maybe 3/10.
Camels. Not as bad as buffalo perhaps, but there are so many of them and they are a serious pest. Sympathy factor, 5/10
Goats. They could come back even if all wild goats are killed. Some idiots will let domestic goats go wild again. Sympathy factor 2/10
Pigs. Nearly impossible to eliminate, but that is no reason to not try. Pig hunters won't like the numbers reduced. Otherwise, sympathy factor 1/10.
Which brings me to the final one, where I am not going to win friends perhaps. The critter called a brumby has been around a long time, as has its name. Why was it given a softening name so early on and not named as what it really is, a wild horse? We don't need wild horses stomping their hooves all over our country but the problem is, sympathy factor 9/10.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)