Saturday, January 10, 2015

A very strange dream

This is quite an embarrassing post. I don't normally dream much, that I recall and certainly not about blog people but for some odd reason I recalled this dream vividly this morning when I woke, 09.00 04/01/15.

R and I were at a venue. I am not sure what it was but some sort of gambling venue that maybe was putting on a show. The cost to enter was $15 and I had the money in my hand. I dropped the $10 note and turned around to pick it up and there were two blokes behind us. They were both offering me my dropped $10 note but one bloke who was holding the ten dollar note towards me said it was not mine as mine was crumpled, so I took the crumpled note from the other bloke, who for all the world looked like Gattina's husband Mr G. I wanted to tell R that the bloke was Mr G, but that would involve a lot of explanation and I really wasn't sure it was him.

We attended the performance, of what I am not sure, and  I kept looking at this bloke who I thought was Mr G. I was sure it was him. I knew he was visiting Australia, but I thought only in Sydney, not in Melbourne.

Ok, I must tackle him when the show finishes and ask him if he is Gattina's Mr G? I did and like a celebrity does, he ignored me, well he did say some foreign words to me and behaved like a celebrity brushing off a fan. His English speaking and glamorous female minder answered for him, except she would not confirm or deny if Mr G was Gattina's Mr G. Mr G's minder was a nasty type. I shouted at her.  How dare you not confirm! I will have you know I know Gattina and I will get to the bottom of this.

And then  nature called and I was awake.

Lol if Gattina tells Mr G about this, but let me reassure her, I am not lusting after her husband. Of course the question might be asked, what was he doing with a glamorous female minder?

Friday, January 09, 2015

Boys and their balls

This hi tech scientific experiment proves that balls bounce and are not immune from the effect of gravity. One minute of it is enough to get the idea and see the proof. Maybe a cat video would have been better for today.


Thursday, January 08, 2015

Je suis Charlie

I think there may have been a cartoon or two around lampooning Hitler at the time of his ascendancy. I can imagine Punch having something in its pages.  Maybe if there were more cartoons, the German people may not have been so enthralled by Heir Hitler. (Hels, there is post for you, cartoons lampooning Hitler)


So for my contribution to Je suis Charlie, something totally inappropriate, in the manner of a cartoonist.

It is rather sad that society judges Moslem people by the radical members, unlike we judged Catholics by the actions in Northern Ireland. Catholics world wide weren't judged by the actions of a few in Northern Island.

But having said this, by golly, there really does not seem to be much to like about the Moslem religion. I try to be a reasonable person, I try to understand but I'm afraid I said to R tonight when I arrived home from work, 'More fucking Moslem animals at work'.

An adequate newsreader

Yes, Nick Etchells is an adequate newsreader but where did he come from? What made me think Channel 7 was broadcasting New South Wales state news in Victoria? Even his voice sounds very Sydney newsreader. Clue: It may have something to do with the missing neck.





Wednesday, January 07, 2015

Boxing

Wrestling is a bit of fun, essentially as professional wrestling is generally faked, and especially interesting if the participants get an extra special prize, humiliating to the competitor, if the they win. Ok, that might have been on a video a friend forced me to watch. But what is the story with boxing?

In boxing a man, and sometimes a woman, punches the other person until the person is either senseless, unconscious or survive long enough to hear a score by points. 'Tis a queer thing. Even more queer is while you can smash their face into bloodied smithereens, you can't target their 'nads or given them a chop on the back of the neck and maybe there is something about kidneys. I think you can punch them in the throat though, if that is your desire.

In 2015 this is still legal? You can assault someone with your fists legally until you knock them out cold?

There are the Marquess of Queensberry rules about boxing, which may be some conscious consolation to a boxer who has killed someone but stayed within the rules.

There is also something called cage fighting, banned in Victoria, but allowed in New South Wales.  Cage fighting lobbyists argue that Victoria's economy is losing out because of the ban.

I have heard of No Holds Barred Wrestling too. Not sure what that is about but hopefully as faked as normal wrestling.

Maybe as an anachronism boxing will live on, but like whipping horses to make them go faster and making them jump over barriers they would not really choose to, these hangovers from crueller times surely must go. Ban these cruel animal practises, along with cock and dog fighting, and if consenting adults want to bash another person's brains in and another wants to be on the receiving end, within the law, maybe it is up to them.

Yeah, just so odd that such barbarism lives on, simply put, that you can physically assault a person until they are bruised, bloodied and unconscious and it is all quite legal.

Tuesday, January 06, 2015

St Kilda and Prahran in one hit

Oh, this post is getting a little old. I think it was the day we went to the Post Card Exhibition at Linden Galleries in St Kilda's Acland Street.

Mandalay is a private apartment building sitting proudly on St Kilda's Esplanade overlooking Port Phillip Bay. It has some terrific art deco features.


We walked up Robe Street and spied some more lovely art deco, with a little Spanish on the side and who would reject that.


Linden Gallery is a large Victorian era house, now owned by City of Port Phillip, I believe.


Interesting bench.


Alfred Square with what is purported to be St Kilda's oldest house on the right.


I've never has a close look at this monument, and still haven't, so I can't tell you what it is.


Tram our way to Balaclava. More late art deco or perhaps more correctly, moderne.


Bus up to High Street Prahran. All bus shelters need a chair on top of them.


The entrance to Prahran's Victoria Gardens. Note the very old lamps.


It was my first visit to the gardens and it is a very pleasant park.


Trees and grass. Our city needs them, lots of them.



I knew the lighting was wrong here, but the effect is not so bad.




These lamps at the other end of the park are quite different to those at the main entrance.


Bougainvillea is a difficult plant to maintain, with its thorns and vigorously growing long canes, but it gives a riot of colour in many different shades.





Blessed was a pork and salad roll and not too bad coffee at Tran Bakery after our circuit. Sadly Tran Bakery closed at Christmas but should reopen after renovations.

Monday, January 05, 2015

The unwell

Our Brother Friends monster house has been settled and because one is undergoing long term treatment for his leukaemia, they have rented a two bedroom apartment in a posh eastern suburb for around $500 per week and their plan to move to Thailand is on hold.

Our Malaysian friend Manny's ex priest friend who had a stroke while making Christmas cakes for the poor and sundry and was found wandering near his local railway station in his apron has been taken into care.

Our Fijian Indian friend who holidayed with in parts in Europe hooked up with a Polish chap while we were travelling. They did not meet, but the Polish has now flown into Melbourne and quickly seen the sights and is now in Sydney for New Year with our Indian Fijian friend.

Our older ex NT politician friend is off of a driving holiday in the New Year. He will stay at various friend's places as he heads north to Queensland.

Let me flesh it out a bit. Manny asked us in early December to visit the Ex Priest in a new private hospital rehab place. Life was just too busy but we did get around to it until last week, except he was no longer there and the switch person did not know where he was.

I sent a text to Manny in Malaysia and he said he was now in a Kew private hospital. I worked out where he was.

In the meantime we were arrived at our ex NT politicians place for a late afternoon/evening Boxing Day  barbeque. R saw a car there and realised it was owned by someone he detests. He called the host and apologised for our non attendance and we came home, and barbequed our marinated meat prepared for the barbeque. R was apologetic to me. So he should have as there were some nice people there, apart from the prat who R does not like. It is odd, because although I remember the night vividly, like me telling R to take the car and I would get either the train home or get a cab, I do not remember the rudeness of the person that R says was directed at me. I would not describe myself as a weak person and I stand up for myself when I see a need, which is not often because I am hard to offend. It was something to do with property, us in a highrise and him in modest apartment. He does talk big at times. (Code for V, Nct Thai)  A couple of gifts were left there for us, including what is probably a regift of chocolates from our Brother Friends.

So, Brother Friends have moved and while we knew roughly where, we did not know the address and had no way of contacting them. The well Brother called us on his mobile when we were out and of course I now had captured his mobile number. I called them back on the mobile, but I forget what was said and when that was.

After our non attendance at the Boxing Day bash, they left a message on our phone giving their landline phone number and asked if we would like to visit their new home. I called them back and suggested Monday or Tuesday, but then instead of looking after Little Jo on Sunday, it was changed to Monday, so Tuesday was my only free day.

On the way we stopped off to see the ex priest.  He has been diagnosed with dementia but seemed quite with it to us. His room is in a very modest older style hospital room and quite dark and depressing. There isn't air con but at least he can open the window. To our surprise he is in a locked ward. I suppose it is necessary to stop him wandering, but he used to walk a lot before his stroke and is missing it. He seemed pretty miserable. Someone promised to take him to church on Christmas Day, but cancelled at the last minute. Think about it you Micks. A retired priest didn't get to Mass on Christmas Day. R was so sad about his situation, well so am I. I reassured R that there would be a chapel within the building, but I did not do so with any real knowledge. He does have good outside support, but by golly, it is not much of a life at the moment for him. In his normal boring manner, he banged on about his past. I tried to talk about things happening now, but it wasn't working.  Actually, it wasn't so boring to hear about the foibles of priests in the past. Nothing juicy, but just that they are human, fallible, stupid  and very lazy at times. He is being offered various places for more permanent care but I suspect always in a locked environment. He just wants to go home to his flat and return to his old life. To us, he seemed fine and there is no reason why he could not, but doctors know better, methinks.

The desk nurse gave us a slip of paper with an exit code through two doors from the building.

#cheerful


Sunday, January 04, 2015

Supplementary Sunday

Here I am, giving more free publicity to a business again but this advertisement amused me greatly. If there is some payola to be had, please Pope, while I have no use for one, could you post one with complete fittings to my adorable and lovely, garden loving and increasingly frail pensioner Mum. My brother has a contact at the local newspaper and I am sure a spot could be organised for Mum tearfully and joyfully using her wonderful new Pope garden hose.

I just saw this ad on tv for the first time and it made me laugh. The music was a good choice. Now, who has not had a hose experience like one of these?



From childhood,

Ta ra ra boom de aye,
You took my pants away.
I was left standing there,
In my underwear.


Sunday Selections

The usual eclectic mix for my Sunday Selections. See what River and others have posted.

Labels can be so important. Instead of General Waste and Recycling these bins are labelled a little differently, reminding us that what happens to rubbish that goes into landfill and even Recycle steers you towards being active rather putting a drink can into the Recycling Bin for someone else to deal with.


Clearly not my photo, but one published in a Wall Street Journal blog. New York's subway system runs historical trips in old, restored subway trains. I think I would like to party on a train with this mob. Note the unguarded overhead spinning fans.


Remember how the weather station outdoor receiver unit crashed to earth from our balcony and did not kill anyone? I received a new unit from R for Christmas. The old one is about five years old, I guess. It looks so old fashioned now. The new one shows outside and inside humidity, which is a bit more interesting.


At Tradie Brother's on Christmas Day an unusual spider made an appearance less than a metre from where we were sitting. Females screamed and males laughed and puffed out their chests. Somehow, I think this is learned behaviour, not in male or female genes. A smote of research tells me it is St Andrew's Cross spider.


Speaking of genes, Tradie Brother has been doing some gene mixing and invented the pine-apple. Naturally Nanna Fud, aka Mother was completely taken in.


Little Jo was here while Sister attended the 3rd day of the Ashes cricket test at the MCG. We were pretending to go Asian for brunch. Note what I think it is tea towel, a lovely Christmas gift from our Friend in Japan. I am only at all doubtful because it is square rather than our usual rectangular tea towels.


From another friend, tea from the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. I think Malaysian grown tea is the best. I highly recommend it.


About the same number of Christmas cards as in previous years. These two are quite special. One does adore Copperwitch and Pants.


Land for sale at the Sea Side Estate, in beach side Elwood. The already surveyed site for the Elwood Station puzzled me. It was never built, there is not a railway line and no evidence that I can find exist that it was even a proposal.  Ah, land developer tricks, even right back in early 20 century.


Interesting photo found on FB, taken from what was The Travelodge hotel, then became the Holiday Inn and is now Hallmark apartments. Before modern radio communication between trams and the operational centre, an inspector would control the trams from this little box.


By the sounds I could hear when standing underneath, it was trainee chefs cooking for chefs. Voices were raised.


The petunia did go down the rubbish chute. It developed some kind of leaf disease and was looking quite unhappy with a leaf disease.


Mother no longer grows annuals in flower beds, but in pots instead. I would estimate she has about three dozen pots of petunias and she gave us one. I stymied her plaintiff wail that she would be dead by next Christmas by commissioning her to produce a potted petunia for our balcony next summer.


Not sure why, but I struggled to get a good photo of these lilies. Operator error, no doubt.


Well past their prime now, but they lasted two weeks. They must have been very fresh. They really were quite gorgeous, but oh, the stink.


When we were at Sister's on The Bellarine we all called into the Aldi supermarket. Urged by Little Jo, Sister bought these for R and myself. Little Jo chose the names. Guess which one I was presented with?