High Riser

Screwing the worker

2012-01-29T07:25:00.002+11:00

Briefly when I was a callow youth, I had a business. It was a joint venture with my step mother, a garage in South Gippsland. My father owned the building freehold and we paid him rent. It was successful, but the bright lights of the city were calling me. Does that qualify me to comment on business? No, not at all, but I did learn some business things. One was don't trust staff. The other was if you do happen to have staff who are trustworthy, do all you can to keep them.

I just worked out this formula below in my head today. I am absolutely sick of owners of businesses complaining about how much their staff cost them. One successful restaurateur, George Colombaris, suggested staff should not get penalty rates for working un-sociable hours. Ha, so the lowest paid workers in Australia are getting rich on penalty rates. I don't think so.

Business owners, here is a formula. Costs, including staff, rent, supplies, taxes and all the rest, plus a profit margin for yourself equals the price you charge. It is that simple.

There is not a lot you can do to reduce many of your costs, except for staff and so you target the soft option. Fortunately in Australia workers are protected by awarded conditions and pay, so you can't cut those costs either. Instead you make a big noise in the media about staff costs. No, all business should be paying their staff the same basic pay or more. Staff costs do not make your business uncompetitive, so cease your bleating.

To the hills

2012-01-28T13:35:00.000+11:00

Last Sunday we started at Grants Picnic Ground. It was very busy with people barbecuing. The rosellas have been driven away by the cockatoos, it would seem. There was only one rosella, hanging back in a tree. Others had the cockies on their arms, but I find they scratch my tender young skin.

I seldom drink tea, but coffee does not go with scones like tea does, so a fine pot of tea each with our scones.

I heard a slight laugh in the trees. More half a laugh. Yep, there is the culprit, a kookaburra. They apparently like eating snakes and lizards, which they kill by carrying them up into a tree and dropping them, repeating until the reptile is dead. We have seem them do it with a sausage off a barbecue.

Onto Mount Dandenong, which is absolutely wonderful now. The five dollar entry charge keeps the hoards away a bit, thankfully. Every other park was so crowded. We have given up on barbecues in parks in the hill and surrounds. They are always too crowded now.

This pole has Australian animals and an Aborigine carved into it.

This world globe has figures linking hands on its circumference. It sits on pumped water and with some effort, you can get it turning and its momentum keeps it going for some time.

This is or was a tv broadcast tower. Now, I don't know if they are still used. At the base of one on a building looked to be an old sign, perhaps Channel 9. The elm tree was just glorious.

Nice work Jetstar

2012-01-27T16:27:00.001+11:00

Unbeknownst to us, R's sister and and her friend spent five hours at Melbourne airport after their Jetstar flight to Sydney was cancelled. I suspect the flight was cancelled because of insufficient numbers. It is Andrew's fault. We wanted to go Qantas.

Upon arrival at Sydney airport they caught a taxi to their hotel. The taxi gave them a Cook's Tour and charged accordingly, about 30% more. Andrew said taxis in Sydney are really good.

It rained and it rained. Andrew said Sydney weather is lovely.

They went for a drink to the pub opposite the Travelodge. A old guy tried it on with them. He was more successful with another lass. They observed him crossing the road with her to the hotel where they were staying. Andrew has put us up in a knocking shop.

Lasses, did you have a nice view from your hotel? No Andrew, we had a view of the pub across the road.

They et in Chinatown. Andrew, that takeaway Asian food we had at your place was so nice, we thought we would try some in Sydney. It was awful. It is your fault.

Andrew said how sparkling blue the harbour will be. It isn't.

Yep, it is all my fault. All a joke of course.

As Victor pointed out in a comment, the full day they were there it just rained and rained. They did go on the ferry but came straight back. A couple of nice young men bought them vodkas in the hotel opposite where they were staying. They also had fish and chips, which were lousy too. At least the hotel room was good.

We collected them from the airport at about 5pm and immediately they were back here, they wrapped themselves up, still not rid of the Sydney damp.

Some spark plugs for the diesel electric

2012-01-27T06:32:00.001+11:00

I like trains. They are a marvellous way to travel. I have a vague understanding of electric trains, they have electric motors and electric bits and the power comes from an overhead wire or a rail on the ground. It is all I need to know.

Steam trains are so cool. All that smoke and steam, shovelling coal into a boiler, pressured steam moving pistons to drive wheels. Not too hard.

Modern diesel electric trains just seem to work without a problem. They are high tech beasts and there is nothing really to see. They just work.

But old diesel trains have become quite fascinating to me, especially the starting up of them. It is not a simple process of pushing a button and the engine starts.

There is a long whirring I think of a starter motor. There is what looks like steam belching out, and then the steam is combined with black smoke and lots of putt putt noises. Sometimes the engine settles to a regular beat, but not always. Is that a fail to start?

Like cars, of course of diesel engine needs a starter motor. What powers it? Batteries? How many and what voltage are they usually? How long does the starter motor engage?

What is the steam? Or is it not steam but white smoke?

Do the engines kind of start, but don't really, and hence the starter motor has to keep turning? They seem to start a bit, like firing, but don't really start for quite a long time.

In the probably forlorn hope that I have reader who understands old diesel electric trains. I might have to go to a website forum and ask questions there.

Stay in Florida. Cheap digs.

2012-01-26T16:04:00.002+11:00

Another fine photo from shorpy.com It is the Tampa Bay Hotel in Florida in 1902. It is a big photo and if you click it, you will see the fine detail. I do love restrained architecture. Can you imagine staying there, the interior, the uniformed staff tending to your ever want. I was made for such a life. Pity it didn't happen.

Happy Oz Day

2012-01-26T06:44:00.005+11:00

It is Australia Day today. It is a public holiday and we celebrate.....umm, being Australian I suppose. At times you will see cars with Australian flags attached to them. I have never felt comfortable with the use of our flag in such a manner. To use a word my grandparents used to use, it is skiting. Apparently flying our flag on the car is a favourite things for racists to do. I'll make do with the toothpick with the Aussie flag.

I like my country as much as the next person. There are many people in Australia who will justifiably disagree with me, but Australia truly is the lucky country. By this I mean it is relatively successful for no reason other than succeeding by arse rather than class.

I am sorry for being so negative on what is supposed to be celebratory day, but I have and most of you have seen many changes in Australia, and mostly they have been for the good. What troubles me is the lack of political passion, be it left or right, it doesn't matter. What is wrong is that no one believes anymore. Everyone is so cynical. It is easy to blame the politicians who literally or figuratively pork barrel. It is easy to blame the shallow five second grab media.

But no, the fault lies with us, you and me. We have fallen for the 'give them cake'. We are fat and gazing at our navels.

Australia has such a huge potential and many individuals do fine things, but collectively, we really need to get our act together.

I would like to expand further, but I have to write an email to the manager of the building next door to query why the air conditioning is running at night time and disturbing my sleep.

Later edit: This is all very glum. Try last years Oz Day post or the year before for some nice music.

Sent to Coventry, well Sydney

2012-01-25T16:04:00.001+11:00

Last night and tonight we are guest less. Earlier in the week at their request I booked them flights and accommodation in Sydney. They were about to go out and I asked if they wanted to hang around while I made the bookings, but no, you do it Andrew, and they left me with a credit card.

It took quite some time, but eventually I got them a good flight to Sydney and a less than ideal flight back tomorrow. We will pick them up at the airport tomorrow.

I wasn't keen on making the booking on my own. I would have liked to ask and check if things are ok as I found what was available. As it was I did not know which last name to use for R's sister. It could have been any of three, and naturally I chose the wrong one. Fortunately she has a driving licence in that name, so that will do for id at the airport for a domestic flight. I couldn't book the accommodation as the Barclay card want some extra verification numbers. I thought the booking might get taken, but no it was still available that evening. They took and Jetstar flight up and will catch a Virgin flight back and stay at the City Travelodge.

I should have gone through the paper work. Apparently they should have printed boarding passes, or so the emails said that arrived an hour before they caught a taxi to the airport. As we haven't heard otherwise, we assume they got away ok. Really though, they ought to check their own paperwork.

They will only have one full day and R's sister's friend wanted to see the Opera House and the Bridge, so I suggested a trip to Manly on the ferry whereby you get a good view of both and Manly is a nice place for lunch and a wander. I printed out a google map showing them where their hotel is and Museum Station to catch a train to the Quay. I expect they will get a cab, if they get their act together and go.

Nielsen

2012-01-25T07:00:00.002+11:00

I like to bring this subject up every so often, and with a new blog comment on a old post, and a post by Julie at Sydney-Eye, the time is ripe.

Briefly, Juanita was murdered by persons unknown solely because she agitated against inappropriate property development in Sydney's Kings Cross and Potts Point and perhaps more importantly, it is suggested she was about to expose corruption in NSW. Maybe her death wasn't in vain, as the developments were stopped by Jack Munday and the Builders Labourers Federation's Green Bans.

Whatever the real reason she was murdered, it was somewhat of mistake to take the life of an heiress to the Mark Foy's empire.

This actually the fourth post I have made about Juanita. I doubt those involved will ever be named or charged until after all the parties, that is politicians, police and developers are dead. Everyone knew how crook the system was in NSW and very few did anything.

http://highriser.blogspot.com/2006/01/in-memory-of-juanita.html

http://highriser.blogspot.com/2007/03/juanita-nielsen.html (this one has the latest of Barry Ward's comments and links)

http://highriser.blogspot.com/2007/11/letting-side-down.html

Random Sydney Photos

2012-01-24T16:34:00.000+11:00

Sydney's magnificent Chinese Friendship Gardens, a gift to Australia by China for Australia's bi-centennial in 1988. I think I took the photo in about 1991. They are, or certainly were, very beautiful.

I took this photo at Bondi Beach I think in the early 1980s. If it was 2012, it would have been on You Tube in five minutes flat. The situation is a little puzzling. Had the mini bus reversed over the edge, it would much more understandable. I often don't mind public art on buildings etc, but gee that wall is ugly.

Just not cricket, or tennis

2012-01-24T07:07:00.000+11:00

Something that I can never remember not happening in tennis is the shake of hands at the conclusion of a match. While it could be because I don't really watch tennis, Czech, Tomas Berdych, shamed himself and those he represents by refusing to shake his opponent's hand at the conclusion of a match. He was booed by the crowd for his impoliteness and lack of sportsmanship, and I doubt he will have much support in the near future. I don't believe there is a financial penalty for such behaviour.

This is his photo afterwards. The Age.

But this behaviour by a spoilt and immature brat who is exactly not so young should have resulted in him being sent immediately home and a fine proportionate to his tennis income. Well, I think he immediately went home anyway, as he was out of the tournament. How can anyone possibly achieve so much in tennis, and yet have so little self control off the court? Greek Cypriot Marcus Baghdatis smashed four tennis raquets in succession. I think it is intolerable behaviour by a supposed sports person.

The visit goes on

2012-01-23T07:18:00.002+11:00

The visitors seem to have adjusted to Australian time now. They did go missing in action a few days ago when Sister, Bone Doctor and Little Jo were staying at the Sebel in Queens Road, due to lack of accommodation at the Highrise. They were up for the tennis. R was going to take them there to show off his treasured Little Jo, but alas, they got 'lost' in the wilds of St Kilda so R met the Bellarine family on his own. They had been upgraded to an executive suite, which is not bad when all they paid was $150 for a lucky dip hotel within a ten kilometre radius of Melbourne. Little Jo spent the night and next day with the Bone Doctor's very un-indulgent parents. Character building for Little Jo, and good for her. Life is not always like you want it to be.

R's sister and her friend stayed in bed until I left for work at 9.30 this morning. They hung around here until mid afternoon, which was not following the plan of them walking to Albert Park Lake, then onto the beach and then catching a tram to either the City or St Kilda. Instead they ended up going to our local pub where we took them the night they arrived.

Did they leave a message for us? A note? No. Well, they didn't know what they were doing. R cooked us a nice meal and they missed out. They came home at 9pm and interrupted our Midsommer Murders. They had a long list of phone numbers of blokes they had met and bars where they were going to meet said blokes tomorrow. Hey, they were all rich. One owned a construction company in Sydney, another, a ranch in Queensland. Do we have ranches in Australia?

Tomorrow morning we are taking them for shopping for groceries. They will probably come because what English person could resist bacon and eggs for breakfast at Mojito's?

Later: Apparently they could resist bacon and eggs and stayed here while we went shopping. In the afternoon we took them to Victoria Market to buy some things to take home as gifts. I have never been to Vic Market on a Saturday, so it was interesting to see and hear the vendors trying to get rid of the fruit and vegetables.

Saturday evening we took them to meet up with friends at a Caulfield hotel where we had a decent meal.

Sunday, we took them up to the hills to Grants Picnic Ground to feed the birds and have Devonshire Tea and then to Mount Dandenong to gaze down upon Melbourne. It was a very pleasant afternoon, even if it was a bit warm. I'll put some photos up in another post. They are now down stairs having a swim and a spa.

Isolating the board

2012-01-22T07:18:00.002+11:00

Youse are a useless lot. I remember posting once about the trouble R and I had had with the laptop where after we plugged the mouse into it, we started having problems when typing. The text would jump around sometimes, going back of forth and doing other things. It took yonks for me to work out the problem. We were accidentally touching the pad with our palms or our wrists.

Once we were aware of the problem, we tried not to touch the pad, but it is hard not to. I was fiddling the other day with the laptop, wondering what it was so beastly slow when it has been used so little. The buttons that do extra things, such turn on/off, volume control, hard drive activity etc have some pretty indecipherable symbols. What does this one do? Oh, a blue light has come on at the pad. Wow, the pad is isolated and won't work, and none of you told me about the existence of such a button.

An acronym that has appeared in print and suddenly is everywhere is most appropriate here. RTFM. Read The Manual......ah, missing letter. Let me think. Ohhhhhhh. Yes, very much RTFM.

I overheard a conversation the other day about lap tops and mouse from someone about forty. She was asking someone to get her a mouse to plug into her new laptop. As I suggested, and she agreed, young people are quite happy with just using the pad of laptop, but older people like to have a mouse.

This week's flowers

2012-01-21T06:52:00.001+11:00

I bought R the new vase for christmas. Two vases have become casualties over the past year, one given to him by a workmate and he was fond of it. If you remember, he bought me a clock radio which cost considerably more than the vase. I will buy him a really nice vase for his birthday. Of course there is some self interest in R buying me a clock radio. It ensures I get to work on time to bring home the bacon while he considers retirement.

The last photo is a City of Melbourne flower box. The salvia is surrounded by parsley and yes, I have seen people pick the parsley and eat it.

These white gladdys were just glorious. They are just past their prime in the photo with the lower blooms starting to brown.

Train exiting a hotel

2012-01-20T07:10:00.002+11:00

Memory is such an unreliable thing. This is not how I remember the train coming out of the Station Hotel in Greville Street, Prahran?

This is the hotel as it was last year. I think it is a posh/trendy place now.

I was doubtful that this is what it looked like, but by checking with Street View, all seems to add up. The house is now part of the hotel. Of course VR stands for Victorian Railways and not my father's mate Victor Richards. My father invented his mate when I asked why there was a VR on one of our teaspoons.

This photo shows the train being removed from the hotel after a private buyer bought it which is much nicer than it going for scrap. Photo from railpage.

The Station Hotel was a somewhat famous music venue, where ACDC and other groups of the day played. Maybe Ann O'Dyne could fill us in? What history is caught in photos. See the train passing? It is in an old livery and when the photo was taken there were pedestrian subways under the railway line that are no longer there.

Just a Kiss

2012-01-19T07:00:00.002+11:00

I have written before about how at times I feel uncomfortable with the modern kissing and hugging manners. Young people seem to have no problem with it at all. I just try to go with the flow and not think about it. While I am not sure that she comes from it at exactly the same angle, so too it seems does Elisabeth from Sixth in Line.

A situation has arisen with Mother over the last couple of years, probably because my stepfather died and we need to see Mother more often now. I suspect when we saw her in the past, maybe once a month or once every two months, we always kissed when we greeted each other, only on the cheeks mind. I think the late Queen Mother had something to say about being kissed on the lips by a friend and I should think the same goes for family.

I see Mother about twice as often as R does and he always greets her with a kiss, but I no longer. Why? I think it is because she doesn't initiate one or is not in the right position to receive one. I doubt it is something she has thought about, just a subconscious act. I think Elisabeth might have been on the money when she suggested it may come down to frequency of contact.

Musing away, as I do.

The Sleep of Innocent

2012-01-18T15:55:00.000+11:00

At two in the afternoon, R's sister and her friend are sound asleep in bed. I was very impressed when I awoke at 6 this morning and they were up already, out smoking on the balcony, with the bed already made. Ah, it seems they did not leave the balcony at all and the bed was not slept in. The miracles of vodka.

They must be having trouble adjusting to the time difference, well that's my excuse for them. I couldn't do anything like that at my age, which is about their age.

The lost luggage turned up yesterday, so they were happy with that. R's sister dropped her purse in the street outside the Highrise and after some panicking and searching, they went to the police station just as a lass was handing the purse in. They were so grateful, I think they scared her and she took off quite quickly without accepting any reward for her decency.

Finally tonight we are to have a meal at home. It seems to have been a long time, well two nights actually. That's enough. Btw, my jaw is a bit sore from all the laughing I have done. R's sister's friend is incredibly funny.

Dumping sewerage into our streams

2012-01-18T07:04:00.001+11:00

When Melbourne has very heavy rain, which is not too often, Melbourne Water is forced to dump raw sewerage into our rivers and streams at different locations. The sewerage system gets overloaded with storm water run off and the consequences of Melbourne Water not dumping the sewerage into our waterways is not something you really want to think about. Let me just say the words, back up.

I'll expound with my ignorance.

Our street was originally occupied by mostly very large houses with front and rear gardens, porous places where water would be absorbed into the ground. The street itself was lined with bluestone pitchers, with water seeping down to the earth through the gaps, and not solid concrete. Now our street is mostly high rise buildings with minimal grassed areas. There is little opportunity for water to seep anywhere. It runs into solid gutters and into the stormwater system. That all happened quite a number of years ago and the system coped.

But now in the inner and even medium suburbs, single houses with gardens and lawns are being replaced by multi storey unit developments with at best tiny areas for water to seep away. There are so many of them and excess water is just going straight to gutters and into the storm water system.

Being reasonably au fait with Melbourne's inner suburbs, I have a pretty good idea how many multi storey developments have replaced single storey housing. The number is monstrous. I am not sure if it is to Melbourne Water's credit that the problem is not much worse, but an excess of storm water gets into our sewerage system, hence the dumping of sewerage when the system gets overloaded.

I really don't have any doubt that flooding of inner areas has also become much worse as most seepage opportunities have disappeared. Unproven, but I think so.

I have made it clear in the past that I have serious issues with our huge population growth. But all these new people pay taxes, pay rates, pay for services. That is a significant amount of extra money to provide infrastructure, and yet we don't have the infrastructure.

So where is the money going? Profits to overseas companies that now own our infrastructure? Are our taxes being unwisely spent or are we not paying enough or both?

I don't know, but it all seems to be terribly wrong to me.

Karachi to Melbourne

2012-01-17T06:50:00.000+11:00

This is kind of a repost of a video I found of a Melbourne tram decorated by some truck decorators from Pakistan. It was back in 2006 when I posted it I think, so many won't have seen it. While it is not my video, when we took a ride on the tram, it had a similar chaotic feel. We were both grinning ear to ear when we left the tram. It was a real laugh.

As the video starts and the tram approaches, you can hear the bells of St Pauls ringing and the bells almost seamlessly merge into the Pakistani music. The tram travelled around the City Circle Loop service and it was retired after 2006 and hopefully is now resting in a quiet corner somewhere with its decoration intact ready to be brought out again one day. The second very short video shows the outside of the tram in all its gaudy detail a bit better.

They're here

2012-01-16T17:02:00.004+11:00

Well, R's Sister and her friend have arrived, but their luggage did not and remained in London. They have gone into to town to buy some emergency clothes and their cases should get delivered here tomorrow. Qantas, fail. The flight was indicated as being thirty minutes late when we left home for the airport. By the time we arrived at the airport, it was fifty minutes late. After they sorted out their case problem, we were three hours in the short term car park for the outrageous price of $28. Qantas and Melbourne Airport, fail.

Has an airport designer ever met anyone at an airport? Unlikely, otherwise it impossible to imagine how they would design the exit for passengers after clearing customs etc, to have three separate exits perhaps fifty metres apart. Try as we could, we could not see all exits at once and naturally the one we were nearest to wasn't the one they came out of. Absurd.

Once home they opened their compensation packs given to them by the Lost Luggage Department. Along with toiletries, was a grey tee shirt and grey shorts. Astonishingly the flying kangaroo was adorning the tee. So if you see people in grey tees and shorts with the flying kangaroo on it, they are Qantas lost luggage victims.

We took them down to the beach for drinks and some nibbles at a cafe and then around St Kilda a bit for R's Sister to re-familiarise herself and show where they had stayed in the past to her friend.

No idea what will happen about dinner tonight. Not my department. They arrived with two bottles of scotch for us and two bottles of vodka for them, so I can guess what will happen after dinner.

The Bush Telegraph

2012-01-16T06:40:00.001+11:00

I listen to so many wonderful podcasts from our ABC, mostly from Radio National. I hear that podcast downloads have saved Radio National.

In no order, what I download and listen to are

Life Matters
Hindsight
Health Report
Law Report
Verbatim
360, although I often don't listen to the whole programme as they can sometimes be boring...ah wanky

I also download our local gay radio station's podcasts from Orange Ribbon, a gay multicultural show and Detours, a gay travel program.

And the last, England's Absolute Radio podcasts of Frank Skinner's show with his co-hosts Alun Cochran and Emily Dean. The humour is subtle and clever.

But there is a new show I have tuned into from ABC's Radio National, The Bush Telegraph. I am not sure about the normal show and nor am I sure that it is so new, but it did a week of features of iconic Australian animals. Let me see if I can recall them. The shows were great and well worth downloading.

Snakes
Tasmanian Devils
Dingoes
Koalas
Horses, more specifically, Walers, not so Australian and I thought horses would be boring, but not at all, and the Walers are quite Australian.

abc.net.au/rn/bushtelegraph

Summer in Melbourne

2012-01-15T20:32:00.004+11:00

The marvellous Rubye mentioned in a comment that it must be summer here. Indeed it is. Above is the photo to prove it. I was at work battling the elements while R entertained Sis in Law and Chainsaw Niece just after the hail had fallen. At one point during the unseasonable weather, a line of stationary trams formed below the Highrise as the tram line power had been knocked out by a fallen tree in Domain Road.

Later when R was out and about, the fire alarm had gone off at the local police station, a few buildings along. When I say police station, it is not a small building but some twenty or so storeys high. Most people had evacuated to a marshalling area in the gravel park behind the building, but the prisoners in handcuffs were lined up in St Kilda Road for public display.

Save Sydney's Monorail

2012-01-15T06:46:00.001+11:00

Or maybe not. Acclaimed author, the late Patrick White, campaigned vociferously against its construction. I recall his main argument being the spoilage of views. It really is a hideous and useless piece of infrastructure. Tourists use it, including me. I have to calculate how to use it, because it goes in only one direction. In Melbourne, I would just catch a tram. If it was other capital cities in Australia, just get a bus.

Don't get me wrong, I quite enjoy travelling on it, except it is always crowded, although apparently not at the moment. It is damn hot inside, in spite of the air con. Every one of our visits to Sydney has seen the monorail with a different fare system, from cash, to tokens, to cash, to cards. Naturally the price just goes up and up, to levels where only tourists will pay to use it.

I do recall being quite entranced when I saw it enter the corner of a building and then out the other side.

Well, not often you will hear me suggest that we should get rid of public transport infrastructure, if it is that, but I will be happy to see the demolition of the Sydney Monorail.

But how will I get to Darling Harbour and the Chinese Garden?

This clip is sped up. I wish the monorail would travel at such a speed. It would be much more fun.

Lusting after Israel

2012-01-14T16:24:00.001+11:00

I have excelled myself with the subject line. Read on.

It is all Hels fault. I had already been primed by seeing one of one's youthful lust objects in The Slap, Lex Marinos. He is old now....but still, as I watched is first class acting in The Slap, I felt a twinge. What would it be like to grow old with an idol of your youth. Pretty damn boring I imagine, which is why it is best left in the imagination.

But your Hels, you know, she went to school with Issi Dye, that is Israel Dysenhaus. How lucky was she. Issi was around when I was a teenager and oh, how I lusted after him. I use the word lusted advisedly as my youthful imagination could not work out what I might do with him, or him with me.

Now this post is going to be thoroughly spoilt if I can't find a photo of him as he was back then. Let me look.

Better to see this clip. He is a bit older here than I remember him, but he still looks ok. In early You Tube clips he has what was a trademark moustache but the clips are so so old, they are just awful as is the music. Issi has remained a performer and now works on the cabaret circuit.

I've since found one poor photo.

Highriser is unwell today

2012-01-14T07:32:00.000+11:00

It seems I have hurt my back. I have a strong back, but not necessarily strong back muscles. I can bend over, steady you filthy lot....but standing up, sitting down or twisting is very painful. From left right and centre advice is coming, massage, chiropractor, back pain Neurophen. It will take a few days for my back to heal itself. That is all.

But worse, I have nothing prepared and ready to publish today. I will just recount last night's conversation when Little Jo was here.

Sister flew to Adelaide with Little Jo yesterday to catch up with a long time friend of Sister's. Little Jo was asked if she remembered the friend. You know, we had dinner at (I missed some words) and you played in the play area.

Little Jo, verbatim as best I can remember: 'Mummy, I am not sure you are really telling me the truth about meeting M. There are no children's play areas in any hotel in Queenscliff.'

'No darling, it was at the pizza and pasta place.' Little Jo tilted her head back slightly in a very superior manner. Obviously her mother did not make the location clear.

Little Jo must have been having geography lessons as she stringed out to R where in the world she would like to visit. Russian was one place. R corrected her, Russia. No, she replied it is Russian where I want go, but after we go to Adelaide/Bali. Apparently Adelaide and Bali are in the same area.

She remains as gorgeous and entrancing as ever, but she is now is quite challenging.

'Andrew, you used to buy the big packets of popcorn. Now you buy small packets, but I know you only put half in the basket. I've had enough thanks, so it doesn't matter.' 'Well I left some for when Sister and Bone Doctor come home'. Odd, since she has never seen the popcorn being made. She just orders it from the bed where she and R are watching a dvd.

Sister took Mother out for lunch last week to the local hotel. Little Jo wanted something from a kid's toy vending machine. Sister said no. Little Jo stacked it on but did not win. Bone Doctor is a relative push over for such things. Mother would spend her last dollar for the grandchildren. After lunch they went for a drive around the new housing estates. 'Nanny, that was absolutely the worst time I have had at that hotel.'

Train Party

2012-01-13T06:52:00.003+11:00

Indians seem quite fond of their public transport. It is very important to the masses. The day before India's national budget is handed down, a separate railway budget is handed down. In recent years huge strides have been made in expanding and modernising the system, improving work practices and fighting against corruption. So it is no surprise that public transport is featured in Bollywood movies.

This clip is from the very successful movie Slum Dog Millionaire. It is set in what appears to be a tram depot.

This one is from the movie Dil Se and features dancing on the train roof of the Nilgiri Mountain Railway that connects the town of Mettupalayam at the foot of Nilgiri Mountains with the old Raj hill station town of Ootacamund.

That's telling the old bag

2012-01-12T21:40:00.003+11:00

God, did one of the girl tennis players try to jump her bones when she was younger? I bet there are a few dyke tennis players of the time wonder why Margaret Court is like the way she is.

You couldn't get a much stronger response from an organisation like Tennis Australia than this. Well done them.

Story at The Age here.

Point Lonsdale

2012-01-12T06:28:00.002+11:00

Sister took us and Little Jo to Point Lonsdale lighthouse for a look on christams eve. It was a very pleasant warm day with a refreshing cool breeze blowing. Little Jo was so good we promised her an ice cream on the way home. Nonsense, said Sister. I have ice cream and cones at home.

Of course we took a walk out along the pier. There is often little see when walking on a pier, but I do enjoy it, especially if has some rotting timbers that make a noise. It did.

Apparently we were under threat in WW II, hence the bunkers and gun placements.

Escaped colonial convict William Buckley was supposed to have lived among aborigines of the area and sheltered in a beach cliff cave. No one knows which cave, but I can see it here.

There were two of these at the base of the lighthouse. I wonder what they were for? They did not look like that they could reel anything in from the sea because of the distance and topography.

Hels has a neat map and a photo of the Queenscliff lighthouse here. Sister told me that the navigators of ships entering Port Phillip Heads would line up the white Point Lonsdale lighthouse with the black Queenscliff lighthouse and.......well, I forget what she said they did. Research required. You do it.

Another bunker. They sure took this World War thingie seriously.

I walked right past this survey marker but R spotted it and called it to my attention. It says, Penalty £50 for interference. That is literally $100, but in today's value, maybe a thousand dollars or more.

Sister and Bone Doctor sat bolt upright in bed the first time they heard the fog horn go off, very shortly after they moved to the area. It has seldom sounded since.

Back to the calm of the swimming beach, where we swam. Well, I nearly did. I went into the water to the waist, which for a bloke is a significant crossing the line point. I didn't want my hair messed up. In the photo, you can see Point Nepean on the other side of the Port Phillip Heads rip. It is a treacherously narrow passage for all those ships loaded with LCD televisions from China and iPhone 5s.

Towels & Family

2012-01-11T20:47:00.000+11:00

I am not finished on towels yet. I washed both sets before use. The blue set went into the dryer straight from the washing machine. The grey set went onto the clothes horse and had ten minutes in the dryer before they were put away. The blue set did not fluff everywhere. The grey set has. The grey set will need another wash and a full drying in the clothes dryer to get rid of the fluff, it would seem. When I am saying fluff, I am saying a lot of fluff.

R's sister and her friend are supposed to arrive on Saturday. We know because she told us. She told us she is coming on Qantas. R said to her, once you know, send your flight details for us to pick you up. Has she? No. I checked Qantas website and they will either arrive at 6.50 or 7.40 or something like that. Are they really coming? We have no confidence that they will. They will impose themselves on us for two weeks yet we don't have the the details of their arrival or even know that they are coming for sure. Regardless, we assume they are coming and have made the appropriate preparations. I am sick of cleaning.

Sister and Bone Doctor are going to a Spicks and Specks thing at Jeff's Shed tomorrow night and staying. R was going to cook for them, but apparently Little Jo wants pizza, so pizza it will be from across the road.

Ex Sis in Law and her daughter Chain Saw Niece called in on R today while I was at work. Apparently Sis in Law is fed up with work and she and her new husband are looking to buy a country store, come cafe, come bakery, come pizza place, come post office, come newsagent. I like what they are looking at. I have long wanted to visit the area and we will have free accommodation.

Chainsaw Niece has a boyfriend, of Islander extraction. She went to church with him to be supporting. R asked, what sort of church? Dunno, she replied. It was just a church. R questioned further. Apparently Mormon. He is not allowed to have a tattoo and cannot drink. He has one and does the other. He pays a bomb to relatives to sleep on their floor in Dandenong. He is moving into Sis in Law's house tomorrow. I suppose I can assume that he and Chainsaw Niece are doing it. Lordy, she is so young. Ah, well, no, she is now 19 I think. I recall putting her back view photo on my blog when she was 15. She has always been fond of her Gay Uncles, even when she was very young.

Oldest niece who recently bought a house with her partner of a five years now may well be separating from him. Opposites don't always attract, although they seemed to for five years or so. When oldest niece went to Sister's christmas day celebration on her own, R called it. I hate to say it, but he was right.

Care to pour me a large glass of something deadening?

PS. I was about to hit publish and the phone rang. The display indicated an overseas call. God, they are arriving Monday morning.

40, no more

2012-01-11T07:24:00.002+11:00

On a slow news day, media provoked some chatter about reducing inner suburban speed limits to 40 km/h. It is already the case in some shopping streets at some times. Many of them are so congested with traffic that it is basically impossible to travel any faster anyway.

Each council decided their own speed limit timings but they are not their roads to control. All of the roads below are under the control of Vic Roads, the state based government department that sets speed limits. I ask of Vic Roads, why have you allowed all this absurd inconsistency on roads you control?

Let us look at Carlisle Street Balaclava, a 40 limit Monday to Saturday. So, on Sundays there are no drunks in Balaclava. There are no drug addicts. There are no stupid old people who walk in front of cars and trams. There are no children who might run on to the road. There are no young people distracted by their ears being plugged with music machines ear buds.

A little further along the road, there is a school speed limit that is different to every school speed limit in Victoria, thanks to lobbying of Jewish parents of the students. Good on them. They succeeded where no one else has.

As for the absurdity of school limits starting at 2.30 when the is not a school kid to be seen, but then finishing at 4 when there are lots of school kids around? Well, I can't imagine what went on in some people's heads at Vic Roads.

I am on a roll here, meaning I will rant. How about the median strip mowers of the great three chain Dandenong Road? An obstruction, such as a fallen tree branch does not mean get out and move it. It means mow around it. So we have a healthy growth of tall grass where tree branches have fallen, or any other obstruction to the mowing person. I don't blame the mowing person. It is how their contract is written.

This previous post about electronic signage is Vic Roads' responsibility.

Malvern Road and High Street are both tow away zones during peak periods. Toorak Road is not. How lucky are the local Toorak people to only have to pay a fine and not get their car towed.

The street where we live is a Vic Road's street. It is their responsibility. They contract out one side of the median and nature strips to City of Melbourne and the other side to City of Port Phillip. Both have not done a fine a fine job with that, with trees nearly dying through lack of water. Both councils poured water onto them and then when a drought hit, cut the water off. Stop.

40 km/h limits.

Glenferrie Road, Malvern, City of Stonnington, 8am to 9pm Monday to Friday, 8am to 5pm Saturday and Sunday

Glenferrie Road, Hawthorn, City of Boroondara, Permanent

Burke Road, Camberwell, City of Boroondara, 8am to midnight Monday to Saturday

Carlisle Street, Balaclava, City of Port Phillip, 8am to midnight Monday to Saturday

Fitzroy Street, St Kilda, City of Port Phillip, Permanent

Lygon Street, North Carlton, Peoples Republic of Moreland, 8am to 10 pm, Monday to Saturday

Toorak Road, South Yarra and Toorak, City of Stonnington, Permanent

Commercial/Malvern Roads, Prahran/South Yarra, City of Stonnington, Permanent

All roads controlled by Vic Roads, but very inconsistent. What is wrong with them.

The towels arrived

2012-01-10T15:55:00.001+11:00

Guess which are the new towels. We have kept the old ones for guests. They are not even covering everything with fluff. The bath towels were $25 each from Myer, normally $40, and the bathmats and hand towels similarly discounted. We are happy. The towels are thick, soft and absorbent.

Minor Confusion

2012-01-10T06:44:00.000+11:00

'Let's catch up'.

How often do we hear this. This time at our dyke friends suggestion. Glenhuntly Road? Later she made contact suggesting many restaurants were closed and perhaps we try the Grosvenor Hotel in Brighton Road. It has perhaps four make overs in the last twenty years. It is a while since we have been there.

R looked online. He told me, hope you like squid ink filled lobster. Hmm, I rang our brother friends to ask them along. Later they called back with issues about the menu. I contacted our dyke friend and she contacted another friend to convince the brother friends to come. Perhaps he convinced them by alerting them to the white ragu of rabbit or the roasted spatchcock on th menu.

The booking was made and everyone came, but of course it was not our sort of food really. The mains were generally mid $30s. Our friend who organised it realised she had made an error. All she had heard was that the pizzas were great. Well, they were in another dining area. Still, we took a vote and decided to stay. I had a nice meal of lamb cutlet with pork neck. R's was very nice too but he sensibly ordered a side of fried potatoes, which we shared. The serves were a bit small. The real losers were those who chose the $22 risotto, which was an extremely small portion. The menu is here if you want to salivate or rant about what a ripoff it is. The service was first class and our food was fine, although not adventurous choices. I would suggest it was pretty well worth the money.

I wonder if the hotel is on the right path, but given the dining room was full, and turning tables over, whereas the cheap eats pizza area was not so busy, perhaps it is going to be successful. After the meal, we adjourned to an outdoor smoking area looking out over Brighton Road. I had another red and a short black coffee. It was lovely to be sitting and sipping in the warm air, chatting and also seeing who was passing by.

Overall a tick for The Grosvernor, but I would be a bit concerned about their fairly high staffing costs.

Cooling Off

2012-01-09T16:26:00.001+11:00

Press I did and a mist of water shot out from jets on the side of the bus shelter opposite the Highrise. We knew it was there as from our balcony we had seen people press the button and receive the mist. However, it is amazing the number of people who don't notice the button.

A visit from Bro

2012-01-09T07:08:00.003+11:00

I was at work when Tradie Brother rang. I don't answer the phone at work. I will call him back later. I am sure it is not urgent. Later when I checked my phone he had rang three times. It must have been urgent. It was. He wanted to call in and say hi. Eventually he called on the home phone and I answered. He was in Richmond having seen some soccer with his son, aka, Dreaded Nephew.

Dreaded Nephew alternates between living and tending his vegetables in the swamps of Langwarrin and his North Carlton garret. His dad had parked his car at the North Carlton garret and they had gone off to see the soccer. They then went to a pub in Richmond for some nosh and drinks and then came to the Highrise via a Dorcas Street bottleshop I had advised them about. Tradie Brother was most impressed with the low floor trams and their smoothness. Not my experience.

The four of us had a nice chat and a laugh, but I cut them short with telling them what time I had to get up to go to work. They left at a reasonable hour to go back to Dreaded Nephew's Carlton garret, but something got lost along the way as Dreaded Newphew posted on Faceboook the next day, The Old Man was kicked out of Exford Hotel.

Ah, that is a hotel I know. Clearly they did not go straight home from the Highrise to Dreaded Nephew's Carlton garret but stopped off in the city. I am just not going to ask why he was kicked out a city hotel.

The lady's not for turning

2012-01-08T17:28:00.000+11:00

I don't think that line came up in the movie Iron Lady, but many other quotes did. It was an excellent movie and Streep is bound to deservedly get many awards for her performance as Margaret Thatcher, Prime Minister of Britain in the 1980s.

Thatcher was played with some sympathy and my emotions fought away as I kept trying to reconcile this extremely clever and ambitious woman on the screen with the evil person that I know she was.

All the actors were excellent, as was the movie as a whole. It is a nice potted history of political Britain in the eighties. Some things I had forgotten though. Although of course I remember the IRA bombs, I had forgotten just how many of them there were. While scars remain, injustices were done, thank goodness that is history.

Just to note, the director was a woman, as was the person who wrote the screenplay, the executive producer and a co-producer.

Taking tea at Randwick

2012-01-08T07:29:00.004+11:00

If one was to take tea at Randwick Racecourse in Sydney, surely one would do it at the Tea House. It is a fine example of Indian colonial architecture. While I am not sure if it has happened yet, the Tea House is to be demolished to make way for a new building, Theatre of the Horse. My eyes are rolling.

The Tea House was built in 1914, burnt down in 1917 and rebuilt to the same plans. It has huge spaces within its walls and can and has hosted all sorts of events, aside from just being somewhere to dine on race days. It was still there in October last year but may well be gone now.

My often defective memory tells me that the previous Labor state government gave bucketloads of money to Randwick racecourse to re-develop the race course as compensation for the disruption the pope's visit caused.

The Australian Jockey Club and the Sydney Turf Club merged last year and became the Australian Turf Club, so that is who to blame for the destruction of this architecturally rare, beautiful and historic building.

There appears to be very few photos of the Tea House available on the net. Here are a couple from the ABC.

This recent one appears to be the rear of the building while the second much older photo shows the wide verandahs and balconies as befits the style of architecture for a hot country such as India. As you can see, it has been well maintained with an intact slate roof.

You can see the roof here at Nearmap.

Might Victor have attended Randwick and dined at the Tea House? Unlikely. Maybe Lord Sedgwick with his interest in nags might have been there? Maybe Ann O'Dyne ~~skulled~~ sipped on champers at the Tea House when she lived in Sydney?

Stupid women

2012-01-07T07:02:00.000+11:00

Men are known to be stupid but many women are quite stupid too. They behave so under the pretence of impressing men, but I think really they do it to impress other woman. Surely men are not so impressed by breast implants and absurdly high heels.

While I don't know much about breasts, I know my woman readers would not indulge in such nonsense as breast implants. Some 28,000 French woman have had breast implants, the implants being supplied by just one manufacturer and the implants may well be faulty and have to be removed. I can therefore assume considerably more than 28,000 French woman have had breast implants unless one maker has the market wrapped up. Why? Breast reduction surgery I can understand. Where is the bloke who would reject a woman because she has small tits? I might wear it if they were miss-shapen or as corrective after surgery.

Apparently most men do care a great deal about women's breasts and are probably impressed by a firm and shapely pair, but really, are men so shallow that they would pursue a relationship with a woman because of her huge pair of firm knockers? Maybe I am overestimating those of my gender but I don't think so. An Asian workmate told me that in his country small breasts are preferred by men as they stand up better, (ok, it is a pun) to the ravages of ageing.

New Year's Eve from where we sat, we watched a constant parade of passing men of all colours and creeds. It was enough to get one rather hot and bothered. Yet, I did observe some women too. Usually they were quite young and often wore very high heels. A few had given up and carried theirs but some continued on to walk very inelegantly in their absurdly high heels. Again, why? Are men impressed by woman staggering around on silly shoes? Again, I don't think so.

I am quite convinced that woman are doing these things to impress each other, rather than attract men. They think they look great, but if your breasts are too big or too firm or you can't walk properly in your shoes, I don't think men are so impressed, well for no more than their usual attention span of two minutes.

Balloon House

2012-01-06T16:41:00.000+11:00

As I stepped out of my shower this morning I saw a couple of balloons rise in the feint dawn light from nearby Fawkner Park. This isn't unusual but what was unusual was the number of them, eight in total. This is the last one to go up. It was too dark to take a photo so this one over Melbourne is from the company Picture This Ballooning.

Rong speling

2012-01-06T07:08:00.003+11:00

Lord Sedgwick's media mate Declan (possibly a proof reader), has taken a summer job programming electronic road signs around Melbourne.

Some road works are happening in, well I am not sure. The electronic sign tells me the works are between Queens Parade and Chaple Street.

It wasn't until I saw witches hats today that I was sure the works were between the beginning of Queens Way and Chapel Street.

I am not particularly pedantic, but I would have thought those who programme electronic road signs would be generally of a pedantic nature.

I am reminded of one of Mother's garage sales when I wrote a sign 'More items in hear'. Sister was horrified. I explained, a browser will want to tell you that your spelling is wrong. You are now engaged in conversation with them and a step closer to selling something to them.

But I fail to see a motive for putting up incorrect spelling and street names on an electronic road sign.

Travel to St Kilda

2012-01-05T16:11:00.000+11:00

Travel to St Kilda for Christmas.

And tram 96 will get you there too.

The Briffa

2012-01-05T06:56:00.000+11:00

No doubt if you listen to or read gay media, you may find GLBTI as tiresome as I do. It is meant to be inclusive of all. Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender and Intersex. Is it necessary? Maybe.

I exchanged an email or two with the intersex Tony Briffa quite a few years ago now. I forget exactly what it was about now but he was polite, helpful and friendly.

Although his sex was hard to determine at a young age, he was brought up as a girl, and although clearly his behaviour was that of a boy, he was castrated at a young age for no good reason. His is not a great childhood/youth story. You can easily search out his details on the net.

But has that stopped him from being a high achiever? He is now mayor of the City of Hobsons Bay, covering Williamstown, an historic and now prestigious bayside suburb, and also covering Altona, the suburb where Australia's Prime Minister lives when she has a moment of not being PM.

I don't feel me being gay and Tony Briffa being intersex has much of a connection, but it does make me quite proud that a quite ethnically diverse area of Melbourne can elect Tony as mayor of their fair greater city. Onya Tony.

London public transport shut down

2012-01-04T16:06:00.001+11:00

Trams rumbled past the Highrise in their normal manner on christmas day. I checked the timetable and it appeared to be a Sunday timetable plus some very early and very late trams. This is a good service with a tram about every twelve minutes for the routes along St Kilda Road.

We had to pick the Brighton Antique Dealer up at South Yarra Station to take her to our friends in Box Hill on christmas evening. I looked up the train times for her from North Brighton to SY. It was a good service too. I remember when it was a very minimal service on christmas day, with a tram every forty minutes in the morning and thirty minutes in the afternoon and back to forty minutes at night. We are absolutely spoilt.

Did you know London's public transport system shuts down on christmas day? No Tube, no Overground, no buses, no ferries. Nothing except taxis. No wonder the English blob in front of the tv christmas afternoon.

Letter to HRH

2012-01-04T06:58:00.000+11:00

At work I am a minority in so many ways. I am gay. I am Anglo Saxon. I am not married. I don't have children. I am not religious. I don't live in a house with a white picket fence. I don't drive a 4 WD/SUV. My car is old. I am the opposite to the average person at my work. I am happy with that and it is my choice to work there.

But I don't have a choice in my ruler who I might add, inherited the position.

Friends, notionally christian, generally don't agree with my view. Political correctness gone mad, R accused me. I disagree. I don't see why I and millions of others of your subjects should be made to feel excluded. You may think you and your religion are right. I think you owe us non christians the benefit of doubt.

Dear Liz.

Below is a snip of the text of your christmas message. While I know you are boss cocky of the christian Church of England and both your own country and mine are historically christian, I just think this god bothering that you went on about in your speech this year was inappropriate.

Your country and mine both have many people of different faiths. Are we of different religions to be excluded from your well wishes? Are we of no religion to be excluded? How many people who celebrate christmas really believe in religion?

All this will affect our celebration of this great Christian festival.

Finding hope in adversity is one of the themes of Christmas. Jesus was born into a world full of fear. The angels came to frightened shepherds with hope in their voices: 'Fear not', they urged, 'we bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

'For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Saviour who is Christ the Lord.'

Although we are capable of great acts of kindness, history teaches us that we sometimes need saving from ourselves - from our recklessness or our greed.

God sent into the world a unique person - neither a philosopher nor a general, important though they are, but a Saviour, with the power to forgive.

Forgiveness lies at the heart of the Christian faith. It can heal broken families, it can restore friendships and it can reconcile divided communities. It is in forgiveness that we feel the power of God's love.

In the last verse of this beautiful carol, O Little Town Of Bethlehem, there's a prayer:

O Holy Child of Bethlehem,

Descend to us we pray.

Cast out our sin

And enter in.

Be born in us today.

It is my prayer that on this Christmas day we might all find room in our lives for the message of the angels and for the love of God through Christ our Lord.

Bottle Tree?

2012-01-03T16:09:00.000+11:00

Is this a bottle tree? In Melbourne? How odd.

So it is 2012?

2012-01-03T06:36:00.001+11:00

New Years Eve started with a barbecue at our friend's house in Caulfield with the usual collection of local people and others from exotic locations around the world. I was hoping to be home early and maybe watch the Point fire works in Albert Park. That was an early hope. R said he wouldn't mind seeing the late fireworks. I suggested the steps of the Shrine of Remembrance but then our friend and his partner wanted to go into the city to see them.

We came home and no sooner were we home than they were downstairs waiting. It was a miserable trip into town on the tram from home. Ten minutes of being squashed into a hot tram with drunken young backpackers might be some gay men's idea of fun, but it wasn't mine.

It was decided we would go to the river bank just downstream from Princes Bridge. We had forty minutes to wait standing, but eventually some people moved from a wall and we got a seat and waited. It wasn't too hot as a nice breeze was coming up the river. We were briefly entertained by seeing a young woman with a bottle of alcohol getting booked by the police. I was not entertained by the young man reeking of garlic who sat next to me.

From where we were, we could see the city buildings, a bit of something above us on what building I am not sure and some of the Arts Centre spire. The fireworks were good of course, but why was no one concerned about the fire that had started in the spire? Being metal, I wasn't particularly worried, as it wouldn't really burn. But the fire became larger and larger.

We made haste to the tram stop to get home and we became separated from our friends in the nightmare of so many people trying to get on the trams. Idiot tram drivers blocking walkways didn't help. By this time people were looking up at the fire and police were clearing the area around the Arts Centre. Apparently it was just a plastic box that holds the fireworks that was set alight, but when molten material was falling, it was looking quite dangerous.

By 12.30 we were home alone and pouring a large scotch each.

Next day we took off for the Bellarine Peninsula to stay the night at Sisters. Although the forecast 35 may have happened in Melbourne, where we stopped in Geelong for a bite to eat had a nice cool sea breeze. At high tide where Sister lives there is no beach, but we were there about four and high tide was not until six thirty so we got a decent swim in. Back at Sister's the barbecue was fired up, drinks poured and we sat outside in the cool evening air and had a very nice meal. Little Jo got four short stories and was asleep by eight after her late NY's eve.

The art auction game Masterpiece was brought out and we a great time playing that. R and I have our own, but have not played it for nearly thirty years. In spite of my wheeling and dealing, to my surprise I came last.

It was an early night and an early morning as Sister and Bone Doctor were riding in Amy's Ride and set off at seven. R and I needed to tidy up and shower and so we needed ABC2 to babysit for and hour. The tiny twenty year old tv is connected to the Foxtel machine which is connected to the dvd player which is connected to the overhead projector. I pressed this button and that button with some knowledge, but I could not get sound. Finally I called Bone Doctor who had not yet began the ride. Press this button on the dvd remote and set it to AUX. It worked and we could now get on with things. Little Jo had told us in advance that we weren't going to the beach but out for brunch.

Some discussion of where went on and it was decided that the crepe cafe in Queenscliff was the go. Panache or something like that it was called. Sister's car has Little Jo's car seat in it, so we took off in that.

I went to get something at the small local supermarket, but at the three registers, there were twenty people lined up at each. Forget it.

Back home the house was heating up and as the temperature was to be forty degrees and with no Sister around to glower at me about the extravagance, I turned the air con on, or tried to. Nothing. I fiddled and fiddled with the remote. I looked for buttons on the unit. I checked the circuit breaker outside, nothing. For lunch we made ham sandwiches and it was in the low thirties outside and high twenties in side. The sweat was pouring off me. Sister and Bone Doctor returned having successfully completed the ride and knew of no reason why the air con would not work. She found the manual and there was discreet emergency button on the unit itself. It came to life and started throwing out deliciously cool air, but too late for us. We were off home, in the heat. We were halfway home during the 1 and half hour trip before you could say the car was reasonably cool.

Once home, stinking hot inside for at least an hour before the air con cooled the place down. It may well be a night for leaving the air con on overnight. Thirty five for tomorrow. Please, I want last year's cools summer back.

Tradie Brother made this lagerphone for Little Jo for christmas.

There are some wonderful historic buildings in Queenscliff. This one is a B&B.

The Post Office.

This event at Vue Grand, previously the Grand Hotel, sounds like fun.

Littel Jo's crepe was filled with bananas and maple syrup. Mine was filled with strawberries. R had a ham and cheese one. Delicious coffee too. The cream is of course low fat double cream, ahem.

Two different but similar towers behind the shops.

I think I need to clean the camera lens. 40+ outside and dropping inside eventually to 24 degrees.

Ibis

2012-01-02T20:10:00.000+11:00

The ibis are coming. Look out Victorians. They have invaded Sydney and are now looking to conquer down south. Photo was taken near my work in Malvern.

The world's steepest train

2012-01-02T07:11:00.001+11:00

Finally, an assisted train I have travelled on. Well, it is a bit like a train. It is at times described as a funicular, but I don't think it is. It is in New South Wales Blue Mountains near Katoomba. It was built to lift coal up from the valley below to then be moved perhaps by train or bullock and dray. This photo shows it among the denuded landscape in earlier days. As you can see in the video, the vegetation is now lush. It is the steepest railway in the world and opened in 1900. By the late 1920s it was already being used by tourists. It is good fun to travel on, if a little hairy. I think I've been on it three times.

Annual Blog Award

2012-01-01T07:12:00.004+11:00

Oh, the grandiosity of moi that I think I can give out blog awards. I do kind of remember that I may have done this before, but I am not sure. Good on you if you got a gig in the past. Many are so worthy.

This year my blog award goes to someone who posts almost daily, mixes her posts with personal stuff, photos, life and art. She also has a sense of humour but also plays her cards discretely.

That is almost enough, but she also replies to comments in her blog and makes comments on other blogs, including mine.

Take a ~~bow~~ curtsey River.

Peter gets an honourable mention for his wonderful and always changing wallpapers.

While it is said that blogging is dying, I have a fine motley crew of blog mates who just keep on posting. A happy 2012 to you all.

Princes Pier

2011-12-31T06:29:00.000+11:00

A couple of weeks ago I visited the newly renovated Princes Pier. I walked from the tram terminus at Port Melbourne and I had forgotten that is quite a distance. Not too far, just further than I thought.

The historic pier was threatened with demolition and although I am pleased it has been saved, I am not sure what it is going to be. I assume there will be a cafe within the buildings. There are public toilets, not yet open to the public. It is clearly not finished, but I think it has potential. At the moment, it seems to lack purpose.

Approaching from the east on the walk/cycle way from Station Pier.

There were at least half a dozen of these information boards detailing the history of the pier.

This curious structure houses a couple of interactive screens, with more pier history.

Not exactly weather tight.

It was a railway pier. The rails were removed for the renovation and placed back when the concrete was poured. The Port Melbourne train was the first significant railway built in Australia. While the train went directly onto Station Pier, it could also divert to run onto Princes Pier.

This area towards the end has not yet opened. Beyond remain the pylons for the full length of the pier, without the decking. They were kept for historical reasons. I approve.

Looking back towards land with the many apartments blocks that have arisen in the last fifteen years. The grass is fake.

The renovated pier office, almost identical to the operational one on nearby Station Pier.

Many migrants to Australia arrived by ship to Princes Pier. I like this representation.

The adjacent Station Pier, with the Spirit of Tasmania berthed and being made ready for its overnight voygage to the Australia island state of Tasmania.

The circular metal work has spikes to prevent people clambering around to the other side. In the distance you can see the Newport Power Station chimney. Unlike our coal fired power stations, it runs on natural gas and can be quickly fired up to supplement our power supply. When operating, mostly on very cold and very hot days, flame burns at the top of the chimney. Warm water is discharged from the power station into the Yarra River mouth, known to fishers as The Warmies, and apparently it is a good place to catch fish.

Today Tonight on a bus

2011-12-30T21:47:00.000+11:00

Makes a change from 'I was on a tram today.....'

R despatched me to Prahran for some supplies while he snoozed away having his afternoon nap. A bus came before a tram. Two stops later a lad boarded. He has a loud conversation on his phone. He sounded a bit gay to me but probably just one of those private school educated lads. He was wearing a straw hat and spectacles and had decent beard growth without having a beard.

I pricked up my ears when I heard him saying he was going to the Prahran Markets. Odd, because there is only one market. It was the usual conversation you hear from people on phones. I went out last night but I left at midnight and was home by half past twelve and in bed by one. I missed some conversation as someone else started talking loudly on their phone. It is hard to listen to two conversations and read a book at the same time. I had to start work at six and... the next word I caught was hangover and a cure. I immediately thought of vitamin B, like Berrocca. Then he said something like, ok, see you Mum, cheers. Thanks Mum. This struck me as odd too, as earlier it did not sound like a son to mother conversation.

Still, just a phone conversation you hear when travelling on public transport, or was it???

Apparently not.

Channels 7's Today Tonight happened to stray onto the Highriser television set tonight and they had a brief segment on hangover cures. Who should I see, but the same straw hatted and bespectacled guy who was on the bus talking on his phone about his hang over cure. I didn't catch the name of the product. Clearly, given the very minuscule coverage on Channel 7 and him doing ads on a bus, the advertising budget for the product must be very small.

Vile

2011-12-30T15:51:00.000+11:00

As if the bilious green is not bad enough, now we have a violent orange tram seats. Each on their own is bad enough, but then combining the two.....

Later addition: I took this photo a few weeks ago. A few days ago I was on the tram the Queen travelled on and it had the same seating. I was puzzled. Then I realised the orange seat was in the same location. It is a seat for the elderly and infirm, near the front tram door.

An electric message arrives

2011-12-30T06:56:00.000+11:00

Dear reader, I need help. This most absolutely hottest young guy who reads my blog wants to meet me and another blog mate for coffee or a drink. He is in an a relationship, so he does not want me for hanky panky. His loss. He is edjacated, artistic, a high achiever, a professional and young. I am not edjacated, I am not artistic, I am not a high achiever, I am not a professional and at fifty blub blub, I am not young.

Meeting men unknown to me for a hook up, I have no problem with. But this is different. Can I say I am shy? Well, maybe not. Can I get away with I am extremely self concious? Perhaps. I would primp and preen, pluck and shave, colour and highlight, change clothes umpteen times, but at the end of the day, I am still an old man. It is a futile effort. Yet, I don't think he wants to meet an unnatural version of me. He probably wants to meet the real me, the one who has all the confidence in the world on the internet, but not always in real life.

Lordy, it was hard enough meeting blog mates older or around the same age as myself. I just don't think I can do it with a young and vibrant person.

I just checked a nice photo of him from his blog that I saved. Hot dude for sure. How can I tell him that I don't want to meet him, but it is not about him, but my own insecurities?

While I will assemble some kind of reply to him and try to do it so both he and I are left with some self respect, I am just so not sure what to say. Given he has probably already read this and now hates me, perhaps it matters little.

Truth be told, I am not on holidays. R is, and at home. I like to include R in things. Work is difficult at the moment with bad working times. R's Sister is to arrive soon and we are preparing. Sister et al are going to stay for a bit. I just don't see how I could fit any more in.

Christmas Eve Emergency

2011-12-29T16:00:00.000+11:00

I forgot to mention about the Bellarine Peninsula christmas eve emergency. Emails were sent, favours called in, contact networks activated and telephone wires and waves ran hot, and at the very last minute a hairdresser was found who could even up Little Jo's self administered haircut to one side of her head.

"She didn't do a bad job considering she used craft scissors," was the hairdressers comment.

Share the cloth

2011-12-29T06:52:00.001+11:00

When I was a kid, a towel was towel. It hung on the bathroom rail and after bathing, you used it. People had used it before you and people would use it after you. This includes drying their hands after washing them. I suppose Mother looked after the towel changing business. I can't remember.

This persisted until I met R. Even in my teen years when living with my father and stepmother, it was as above. You just always looked for a dryish towel, not whether it was used.

I don't know exactly when or why it happened, but very early in my and R's relationship, we started having our own towels.

Over the years we have become more and more fussy about our towels. No one else is allowed to use them. (I can see you V, nodding away)

With two bathrooms now, it is pretty easy to manage. If we are travelling, my towel goes in place on the rack/rail, and R's goes in the other and we remember which is which. R being left handed and me being right handed helps. His goes left, mine right. I am not telling you about top or bottom if it is vertical stacking, as you will read things into that.

When bathing at Sister's, she always yells out as you about to get into the shower, there is a clean towel in the ....

At home I make sure a house guest has a towel in their room to use when the attend the bathroom. They get our very old towels, washed of course.

I have you absolutely fascinated and drawn in now, I am sure.

We have three sets of towels for our personal use, one brown, one red, one green. Each set comprises a towel and bath mat for me, and a towel, bath mat and hand towel for R's bathroom, his being a public one, so the hand towel is for the use of visitors. We don't use face washers, although we have some assorted face washers for the use of guests. Little Jo seems to require the use of a few of them when she visits.

In the past I used to change the towels once a week, always on Friday but here in the Highrise, they don't seem to air or dry as well, so R requested a more frequent change. I now change them every sixth day, which does require some thought as to when to change the towels, rather than every Friday. I did work out that to rotate the towels evenly, it must be brown, green then red. The alphabet is useful.

I have just had to think why we have three sets when two would be enough. We bought our towel sets at Boxing Day sales just before R's sister and husband to be visited. We bought an extra set for them to use. This was perhaps in 2008, so the towels are four years old and getting thinner. We are to have new house guests in a couple of weeks, R's sister, a different one, and her friend, and we need new towels, so Boxing Day sales it will be. Funny that Boxing Day sales have started already, three days before Boxing Day.

I'll just keep you hanging on the edge before telling you in another post about how I launder the towels. But if you would like to tell me about your towels, feel free. I don't expect any of you can top my fussiness, unless you live alone.

(obviously this was written before Boxing Day, but no new towels yet)

That Day Summary

2011-12-28T07:08:00.001+11:00

Christmas eve was spent at Sister's with Mother and ABI Brother arriving for an evening meal. Earlier we took a decent walk and visited Point Lonsdale Lighthouse. I'll make separate post about that. Later we took her dog for a walk and swim to the dog beach. Then dinner, exchanging of gifts, a visit to the local community christmas tree and home, a one hour and twenty minute drive, arriving home at 10.45 when I have to get up for work at 5.30.

Sister gave us a nice calendar featuring Victorian lighthouses, but I had already bought my own, Bush Babe calendar. Conflict.

We gave ABI Brother a BB calendar and Sister gave him a lighthouse one too. ABI Brother's calendar cost $22. He gave R and myself a gift voucher for $50. I feel cheap. I will make it up next christmas.

When I saw Little Jo, I said, Little Jo, I heard you were very naughty and hosed Nanny? She just grinned very widely. She taught me a card game I had never played before, and it had no winnner. Odd but fun.

Mother has a habit of picking up a banana when visiting and sticking in in her bag. 'I've protected your banana, Sister'.

Sister made a lovely christmas dinner and she had to do it all again on christmas day. Mother no longer makes the christmas pudding. It is Sister's job now and she uses Mother's recipe once she metricated it. It was the best plum pudding I have ever eaten.

My last clock was one that had digitally marked drop down flaps. It was old and each time a flap dropped, it made a noise, that is once a minute. R bought me this new one about twenty five years ago. It was a fine clock and still works well except the volume control is dirty and makes the volume so hard to adjust, the radio is nearly unusable. Well, the whole clock is dirty. In fact filthy. It is a while since I attempted to clean it, unsuccessfully.

Regardless of my obvious need for a new clock radio, I was not suspecting a new one for christmas, but that it what I got. It has a digital and FM radio. Boxing Day, I could not get the alarm to switch off and had to consult the manual. It is very complicated beast, but I am now mastering it. The alarm starts very softly and slowly increases its volume. The digital and FM radio reception is excellent. I am ever so pleased with it.

After work on christmas day, I joined R and friends at a friend's house and they kept me a christmas nosh up. Boxing evening, with friends at another friend's house, another christmas binge. No more food, please. Three christmas dinners in three days is too much.

The Late Bruce

2011-12-27T07:00:00.000+11:00

Homophobic, racist, misogynist, blunt. No not me you fool. The late Bruce Ruxton, retired president of the Returned Serviceman's League.

I only went once to Partner's Tavern I think. It must have been the original location of the Lotus Club. Wednesday night comes to mind. I think it was in Port Melbourne. It was known as a gay hotel and run by a guy, his wife and his boyfriend. Hey, it worked for them.

One evening in came Mr Ruxton for a meal, accidentally I suppose . He may have been homophobic, but it didn't stop him having a fine old time in the company of gay men.

For all his faults, I understand he helped many many returned service men. Few people are all bad.

Phew

2011-12-26T15:36:00.000+11:00

Lucky I pre-prepared christmas posts. I am absolutely whacked with family, social stuff and work. Better post something. I was going to delete this photo but instead I will share the pleasure I felt when twice in the week I have woken in the morning, having turned the fan off overnight, and found the blades had stopped at 90 degrees to the walls. It has never happened before, then twice in a week. Stars aligning?

The proof is not in the photo as it doesn't look quite straight, but it was.

I see the lights

2011-12-25T07:00:00.001+11:00

T'was the night before christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

I say that to myself quite a few times around christmas, very much so should R and I be home on christmas eve. It is part of something longer in a book I read. We won't be home this christmas eve but I will be saying it mentally at times.

Cities are lit up all over the world to celebrate christmas. Even in non christian countries where christmas is not celebrated, still they celebrate it. Big business is all powerful.

I have been quite aware of Budapest for some time because it is a tram city. I was aware of it earlier because of unpleasant events nearly seventy years ago. Then Victor embarked on a river boat in Budapest. And then along came the marvellous Jane and Lance who live there part time. Budapest appears to be a beautiful city and who better to show you than Hamster with his You Tube videos of public transport. Sad ass Australia, you are not even in the running in the lighting department.

I am the least religious person you could know, so whatever religion you are or aren't, I still have no hesitation in saying to you, Merry Christmas.

Ginger Bread

2011-12-24T07:05:00.004+11:00

Melbourne Town Hall has a small gallery off Swanston Street and exhibitions are regularly changed. It is free and takes only a few minutes to check out. At the moment it has ginger bread christmas sculptures. The photos are at odd angles as standing distance was limited and brats kept getting in the way. Nice effort City of Melbourne. So what does gingerbread sculptures have to do with christmas? I have no idea.

A tree with lots of dangling ginger bread men, or women. Sex was indeterminable.

Melbourne Cricket Ground of course.

The Arts Centre, complete with spire and a train circling it.

Typical Melbourne scene.

Castles, snow and frozen lakes are often to be seen in Melbourne's streets.

Think we must be somewhere else now.

This building looks familiar, but I can't place it.

Heading north from London

2011-12-23T16:04:00.002+11:00

Dour old lady is about to step off a train at King's Lynne Station to go to her country cottage for christmas celebrations. I think most of England's trains that head north leaved from Kings Cross in London, so that is probably where she boarded. One doesn't like to show off, but we caught a train from Kings Cross and headed north too. Our accommodation was a little more modest than her country cottage though.

While she does have her own train, she prefers to save the expense and travel with the low life, still first class though of course. At her age, she really does need to mind the gap. Mind, the gap is nothing compared to the steps on a Melbourne tram. I understand why trams have steps, but I really don't understand why there are huge gaps between train carriages and platforms.

I like the cheers from the common folk as she departs King's Lynne Station.

Nigella Pouts

2011-12-23T06:44:00.000+11:00

I have never really watched Nigella Lawson cooking on tv before. I knew what she looked like and heard some things about her. One of her shows is being shown on tv at the moment and I've caught a couple of episodes. I can't believe how sexual she is when she is cooking. It is quite deliberate of course and perhaps a bit too obvious, but still quite amazing. She also seems to be a quite down to earth cook. Not too much Creme Fraiche used, unlike a Brit cook from the past. Still, no body beats Jennifer and Clarissa, but sexy they weren't. How I loved seeing Jennifer's scarlet nails plunge into a bowl full of double cream, lard and salt.

On theme, I have also seen a cooking show by Gordon Ramsay. What a lovely and pleasant bloke he is. I have heard tales of course, but none of that is in this show. He is a perfectly nice fun loving father.

Those of us old enough may also remember Ken Hom. A very young Emily Dean who can be heard on UK's Absolute Radio was in a BBC studio with Ken Hom as her father worked for the BBC. Apparently his fruity off camera language created quite an impression on the young Emily.

I am on a tv cook roll here now.

A lust object of R's is Eddie, who is a cook on I think on Better Homes and Gardens. He picnicked next to us at Jells Park once. He is quite nice looking.

Personally I adore Poh, from Poh's Kitchen. She is just fabulous and a gay icon if ever I saw one. Anyone with a mouth that can open as wide as hers, has to be a gay icon.

One from the past is springing up in my mind, Jaffery or something. An Anglo Indian? Or Indian in England? I learned about my tumerics and saffrons from her.

I suppose the show had run its course, but Simon with the studded leather wrist bands and Maggie of the verjuice fame were great.

I also rather like the fat chick who likes being a fat chick who won a tv cooking show contest. I don't even know her name. Wait, Julie something. She is a good and honest cook.

Last one, a woman, perhaps from Burke's Backyard. She had a slightly cracked voice. I saw her not so long ago on SBS. Maeve or something like that.

I am just so not going back to Graham Kerr or Bernard King or that pretentious cook from Perth. Suck it up Lord Sedgwick. I gave you a nice photo of Nigella.

I wish

2011-12-22T16:15:00.000+11:00

Last weekend Sister, Bone Doctor and Little Jo went to Bone Doctor's parents for an early christmas dinner. They called in to see Mother on their way home.

Little Jo was very naughty and did something we all wish we could do at times. She turned the hose on her Nanny full pressure while Nanny was taking her dry washing in from the clothes line. Hahahahahahahaha. Little Jo was sternly reprimanded as Sister and Bone Doctor tried to stifle their laughter. She has wet Nanny before and Nanny thinks it is a joke and plays up to her. I don't think Nanny will do that again.

The Mailman Commeth

2011-12-22T07:12:00.000+11:00

Various things ordered both locally and overseas have turned up at the Highrise over the last month or so. I made myself very happy and R approves of them all too.

First up was the advent calendar ordered from Richard Sellmer in Germany. The company has been producing them for over sixty years. I am very pleased with it. I took it down one day when Little Jo was here so that she could find and open the appropriate window and with daylight behind it, I realised the windows are translucent, so we placed it in front of a lamp. I will take it to the Bellarine on christmas eve so that Little Jo can open the last window, the 24th, and then perhaps cut it up for craft. It doesn't really show in the photo, but it has lots of glitter, which has found itself spread around the Highrise.

I decided to buy one of the lovely Bush Babe's calendars this year for ourselves. Then I thought, instead of buying Weather Bureau calendars as gifts, I will buy three more of BB's calendars. They arrived beautifully packaged with a nice note and a personal message on one addressed to us. How sweet. I am looking forward to the 1st of January when ours can go up.

And then my spur of the moment late night purchase of the Underground Diary arrived. It is a gorgeous diary, with a page a day and the pictures are copies of posters designed for London's Underground in the 1930s. Some of the pictures are truly great art. Here are a few I scanned.

The cover. For some reason it reminded me of the artist Bracks' painting, Collins Street, 5pm. I checked on the net and it looks nothing like the Bracks' painting.

Trooping the Colour. There are just so many fantastic posters.

For you cricket fans out there or you Underground facts fans.

Family - bah

2011-12-21T16:37:00.002+11:00

Just when we thought we finished with family stuffs, Mother's garage sale, Little Jo decorating the tree and Sis in Law's wedding, along comes Maria.

Her name used to be pronounced Marry, then it went to how we would normally say Maria, but now it is Mariah. Somewhere in the distant past of my blog you can read about her when she visited us with her daughter and then husband. She is R's youngest sister and lives in the north of England. I take a charitable view of my own Sister when she disappoints us. I am fighting for R to do the same for his sister.

Another of R's sister's mentioned about, pephaps I should give Maria the privacy I give other people and call her M, that she was coming to Australia to see us. This would have been about mid year.

We rolled our eyes and doubted that the twice divorced M would visit us. R had left countless messages on her phone with no return call. He was getting very annoyed.

While we were off selling Mother's junk one Saturday morning, M left four messages on our answering machine. It was clearly Friday night drinks time in the UK and the last message was incomprehensible. However, the first confirmed she is coming and gave us a date in mid January. Oh, and she is bringing a friend. We guessed who the friend is. She was about ten years old when she waved R off from a window when he left home to come to Australia in about 1970. We caught up with her when we visited England in 2008 and she is full on, over the top, gushing and quite glamourous. This is rather the opposite to us at our age. I suppose it all be ok. They don't want us to organise anything and they may go to Sydney for a couple of days. I expect there will be a lot of sunbaking at St Kilda Beach.

Just to ensure we are onside, this nice bunch of flowers arrived for christmas and later an expensive card.

Northside

2011-12-21T07:15:00.000+11:00

A black man, a red head, an Asian and a fair haired guy with dreadlocks walked into a bar together. That's all.

We dined at Mezza in East Brunswick, so they actually entered a restaurant rather than a bar.

'Arrgh, modern Australia', I remarked to R. 'Indeed', he replied.

Now for some odd reason, Mezza has a licensed bar, but only available to you if you dine inside. If you sit outside, like we did, it is bring your own only. I despatched R to the Quarry Hotel for a chilled bottle. In the meantime, many phones came out to take photos of the baby Fiat parked outside. The Bolter had a baby blue one and she and Step Grand Father Charlie drove it from Sydney over the high plains to our farm in Gippsland. The seats don't look very comfortable.

Whilst R was buying said chilled bottle, a gathering was happening at the restaurant next door. A man arrived, shook a couple of blokes hands and kissed a couple of other blokes on the cheeks in the Mediterranean manner.

Yes, the modern Australia. Many colours, many creeds and many cultures. Blended they make up our country. On individual paths, they do not. We observed a lot of blending while we were dining.

It was on about the seventh crowed tram I caught today that R remarked, wouldn't you like to turn the clock back to when the city wasn't crowded at 9pm on a Tuesday and you could get a seat on a tram? Possibly, I replied, but you remember the good about the old days and forget the bad.

We do enjoy being older and observing ourselves behaving like older people.

Another example. Across the road at our local cafe that serves us fine coffee for $2.70 a cup, an electric banking machine has been installed next door. It is some odd bank, Metway or something like that. While we sat and had coffee, there was a constant beeping from the electric bank as people pushed buttons and received cash. Now, if you use an electric bank that is not your bank's, there is normally a fee. $2 comes to mind. All these young people are Metway bank customers, I mentioned? No you stupid old man, it is only people like us that would worry about $2 to use a foreign electric bank. Young people don't care. And it seems it is thus.

Here is a couple of photos of the Fiat. It was stunning.

Belly dancer performing every night for the month of December. She was quite slim. I like a belly dancer with a belly. The best belly dancer I have seen was an Indian lad at the long gone Jocks in Peel Street, Collingwood.

The library has projections on it for christmas. We were underwhelmed. At the top is says Merry Christmas Melbourne and below, Christmas in the Silberhaus Home. I am sure one of you will tell me what Silberhaus means. Haus means home doesn't it? Was the Home at the end unnecessary?

Once I had a crack at Sister along the lines of, well you could actually stay home. She bided her time and somewhat later came back at an appropriate moment with, well, you could actually go out.

We do go out occasionally to somewhere unfamiliar and while we enjoy it, once home, it is reinforced why we like staying home. A bit like returning from a holiday really.

ABC or SBC?

2011-12-20T16:47:00.002+11:00

The Sydney Broadcasting Corporation, occasionally known as the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, is at it again. The more I whinge, the more they do it.

I was listening to the ABC local radio 7pm news on digital. The programme was being broadcast nationally and the delightful Libby Gore was to follow. So what was the 7pm news problem? Once again, I started to hear the names of Sydney suburbs in the bulletin. The news was NSW news, not national news.

The days of a fifteen minute news, ten of national and five of local, at 7pm have long past. The gong to separate the two went missing long before the move to Ultimo. I am not a dinosaur. I cope with change and recognise that the past often SEEMS better.

But what disrespect is dished out all to all the other parts of the country when NSW news is broadcast nationally. It is so frequent now that I am starting to recognise the Sydney news readers' voices.

This time I emailed ~~my ABC~~ the SBC.

Unto ye a child was born

2011-12-20T07:10:00.002+11:00

The bigots and homophobes seem to have pulled their heads in and shut their gobs, to perhaps mix things up. The silence is deafening. Senator Wong, Australian Minister for Finance, and her partner have produced a baby, and a fine head of hair Alexandra has too. Who could deny that this will be a much loved child. Makes me a little bit proud to be Australian, in spite of me disagreeing with much of Senator Wong's rhetoric.

Later thought. Ian Molly Meldrum is an openly gay man. Where are the homophobic haters? I've heard nothing but good wishes for Molly's health from all directions after his fall from a ladder. This is good.

Photo by the marvellous William Yang.

Chewing the leg

2011-12-19T16:46:00.000+11:00

It stretched to two meals, one sandwich and a gnaw on the bone. I love a leg of lamb and although expensive, if you can do the above, it does bring the cost down. As you can see, there is not much left for a pooch. Can you guess what the skewer is for?

'Tis some funny things

2011-12-19T07:28:00.001+11:00

She must have been seventy years old at least. She put her Myki card in the resting place on the machine, inserted twenty dollars into a slot, pressed a few things on a screen and collected a receipt and her now credit topped up public transport Myki card. She boarded a tram and was off. At 77 Mother says she can't use public transport.

I learn so much about the world by listening to the BBC world service, Deutsche Wella and Radio Netherlands. I was surprised to hear about the local Victorian town Strathewen which was nearly burnt to the ground in the 2009 bushfires and its resurgence on Radio Netherland's Earth Beat.

Sister has taught Little Jo about Jesus and nativity scenes. I think they even made a nativity scene together. There are now two things that Sister does not answer back to me about. One long ongoing one is about public funding of private schools and now, the newest, when I asked why isn't Little Jo leaning about a more entertaining fairy tale than the one about Jesus being born. At least Little Jo is officially a heathen and hasn't been baptised. Much to Sister's chagrin, her three brothers were baptised and she wasn't.

The christmas socialisation has well and truly started. I've had enough already. We've done three, must catch up before christmas, dinners. I am rather pleased to be working on christmas day. We will spend christmas eve with the immediate family on the Bellarine, christmas evening with friends in Caulfield and Boxing night with friends in Box Hill. I know it is wrong of me, because so many don't have anything happening for christmas, but for me, what a luxury it would be to be alone on christmas day and not having to bother about the lead up, the day, and the following.

In the past I have tried to help, to assist, but really it is better to leave R to himself to the cards, the decorations, the tree, the gifts. Christmas for me is a cultural thing, not a religious thing. I do stamps, printing, envelopes, labels.

QV Gardens

2011-12-18T07:00:00.000+11:00

I alighted from the tram, crossed the road and was almost run over by a speeding cyclist on a shared footpath/bike path. Ring, ring, went his bell. Hi Andrew, he called out. It was a neighbour. Who was in the wrong? I don't know.

Queen Victoria Gardens are part of the larger Domain area of parks close to the city. This is the hammer thrower, correctly called The Pathfinder. I used to see council workers put out the hammer in the mornings and take it in at about 3pm. They no longer bother. If it was left out, the youth would steal it. It is a rather good sculpture.

This photo is from about six weeks ago. The one that follows is the bed last week. Things have grown.

The Floral Clock, I assume the mechanism, was given to Melbourne by the Watchmakers of Switzerland in 1966. Do pass on our thanks personally Kath. On the green post to the left is a button to push to hear a rather too long recorded history of the clock and the area. Flowers there have grown in six weeks too.

Ah, the bloke on the horse is an Edward, VII perhaps. VII? Was there a seven?

This is the Walker Fountain. I remember it being built and I would have thought in the mid 1990s. The plaque tells me it was 1981. I scarcely believe that. Walker was a Lord Mayor of Melbourne in the 1970s. Now he head honcho of Grand Pricks car race org. The fountain was shut down during the drought, and then converted to recycled water. While it is a boringly conventional fountain, it is rather nice. It is now illuminated in blue at night. I don't go out at night to take photos. You can if you want.

Lady D'Arbanville

2011-12-17T07:32:00.001+11:00

Occasional joy was to be had in my youth when discovering a good 'b' side track on a single record that you bought for the 'a' side. I recall discovering the great David Bowie track Amsterdam on the b side of one of his records. I think the Cat Stevens clip below is another b side track I discovered on a single. I had forgotten about it until recently listening to eighties music. It is a great track and I was never aware that Cat Stevens was quite a hot cat. Well at my age now, he back then looks quite hot.

P En G

2011-12-16T21:58:00.000+11:00

Yes, Papua New Guinea, a failed state. One of our old colonies. Perhaps we have some moral responsibility? We certainly don't have a legal one, no matter how much money we waste on propping up the country.

At some point last week, it had two competing but ruling governments, two Prime Ministers, two Governors General. What a mess.

Surely the point of having the Queen as your ultimate ruler means that she must take some responsibility and sort things out. She has stayed silent.

HRH, aka the Queen, needs to bang a few heads together and knock a few blokes out, and appoint some PNG women to sort things out. They couldn't do a worse job, and probably do a much better one. Romantic idealism? I don't think so. From what I know of PNG women, they would be up to the task. I am loath to include religion in the mix, but a few of the ever so sensible and practical missionary nuns might help too

Ian 'Molly' Meldrum

2011-12-16T16:10:00.000+11:00

I was reminded the other day of something I had forgotten, when Mike Willisee opened his current affairs show somewhat tired and emotional and quite giggly. The following night his opposition on another commercial tv current affairs show opened his show with, 'I'm Derryn Hinch and I'm sober'.

Just thought I'd tell you that because I thought it was funny at the time. There really is no connection to Molly falling off a ladder. Yes, Molly likes a drink and I am the last person to criticize anyone for that, but I believe he is now somewhat of a fitness freak, who generally foresake alcohol. Molly is or was a regular at his local hotel in Richmond, DTs, one that we often visited too. While occasionally a drag queen would draw attention to Molly, he was generally left to own devices.

So without personal contact, but just what I have picked up by his behaviour, demeanour and quite often being in the same bar as him, he seemed like a thoroughly nice and decent bloke. What better compliment can you pay to an Australian male.

I think it would be fair to suggest that Molly is a Melbourne, if not Australian institution. It is said that once over fifty, men should not get up on ladders. I won't go that far, but you have got to be very careful and aware.

Get well soon Molly. Melbourne still needs you.

Molly pre hat days with some foreign bloke.

More like the Molly we know and love, with our Kyles.

Farmers caring for the land

2011-12-16T07:09:00.001+11:00

I had to laugh when I heard a representative from a farmer's group suggest that they had something in common with greenies in that they too care for the land and have similar concerns. Well, sorry, while many of the issues were caused by ignorance, farmers are very responsible for today's problems, over working land, salinity, taking too much water, clearing the land of all vegetation, not leaving areas for wildlife. It is only now that some farmers are seeing the sense in looking after the land for the land to look after them.

But many are not and are still objecting to the now reduced suggested water flows for our eastern rivers.

But what about the food bowl, I hear you cry. Oh yes, the food bowl. The one where grapes have been found to be unviable and the vines ploughed back into the ground. The one where beautiful oranges are almost worthless against subsidised overseas grown oranges. Yes, the food bowl that grows rice and cotton, both water intensive, in the driest continent in the world.

Naturally South Australian farmers will agree with me, they being the very last to get their hands on the water to put it to use for their own purposes. Well, actually South Australian fishers might be the last link in the chain who think those upstream always take too much water. The further upstream you go, the further upstream the blame will be laid.

Farmers, you have had two hundred years to work with the land, not destroy it. You learned nothing of sustainable farming practised overseas for hundreds of years, but just took what you could from the land. While no one wants to see your livelihood destroyed, it is time to give back to nature and restore some balance.

And before you get too soppy about the poor farmers fighting to save their livelihoods, just consider the (Murray, Darling) Basin Communities Association, fighting for farmer's rights, when it is nothing more than a front for big business.

The day water rights started to be traded for money, rather than allocated by a statutory authority, was a significant marker in where it all went wrong. It is almost past the time to get the environmental water flows right but we must do it. Only then can we distribute what might remain.

Christmas in the city

2011-12-15T16:21:00.000+11:00

Instead of the very expensive and quite horrible metal christmas tree that has graced our 'city square', yes that gravel patch where commercial enterprise in a public space is welcome, but not protesters against the avarice of big business such as Occupy Melbourne, this year City of Melbourne may have scored a goal with these temporary trees and attractions for children. It looked pretty enchanting to me.

Falun Gong cult woman harassing passersby to the far right.

I rather like salvia, but I don't think it is very fashionable in gardens now.

Same old tree went up in the public area of the Highrise. Ever so tasteful, just like a department store tree.

Not what you think, the answer

2011-12-15T07:00:00.002+11:00

So we have this fairly normal looking houses at numbers 23 and 24 Leinster Gardens in London's Paddington. The photos and information come from Mike Slocombe. Here is the photo of the front again.

One would guess that people of money and influence lived in the adjacent houses and would not want a steam train infrastructure in between their rather grand houses. So while the houses at 23 and 24 were demolished in about 1867 to build the railway line between Paddington and Bayswater, this five foot thick façade was constructed to satisfy the local population. Here is a rear view, again from Mike.

It was a good place for steam engines to vent their foul fumes after coming out from underground.

Now of course human beings like to do funny things, so it is not unusual for pizzas to be ordered for delivery at 23-24 Leinster Gardens and ordered taxi cabs can be regularly seen sitting outside, waiting for a passenger to appear from the front doors. Humans also like making a profit, so in the 1930s invitations priced at ten guineas to attend a ball at 23-24 Leinster Gardens were sold by an enterprising person.

The whole tale makes me rather wonder about the rush to destroy inner city streetscapes in Australia when such effort went into the preservation of London's in the 1860s.

JayLa and Scott both knew about 23-24 Leinster Gardens. Peter was on the right track with his suggestion that it was a façade. Kath's suggestion of a playpen for Madonna's toy boys indicates where her mind is at. Fen's blood curdling suggestion was...inventive. Much to my surprise, V in Japan knew too.

Doored

2011-12-14T16:04:00.001+11:00

A new word has entered our media, doored. This is what happens to a cyclist who is riding along, minding their own business and a car door is opened in front of them, and whoops, down they go like a sack of spuds. I have seen this happen three times, fortunately not fatal for the cyclist. It gives you are rather sick feeling when you see it happen.

Of course the motorist is entirely at fault. Before opening your car door, especially when on a road, check for passing cyclists in your exterior rear view mirror. In fact, check for cars and trucks too, that might take you out if you you step out in front of them. Sometimes humans are not even very good at self preservation.

There are laws about causing such a hazard with an on the spot fine of $122 or court fine up to $366. This is quite lenient if you consider no one is ever likely to be charged unless they cause an accident.

As The Age shows, James Cross is not an unattractive man, but that is irrelevant to me in this instance. It seems he was a much loved member of his family.

James was riding along Glenferrie Road in Hawthorn, a road I know well enough. It is congested with foreign student drivers, born to rule middle class teenagers on probationary licences, and monstrously large 4WD beasts. While I can only see that it was a black BMW car that doored James, it would not surprise me that it was one of the many 4WDs that infest our wealthier suburbs.

James was propelled from the car door upon impact and under the wheels of a passing truck and died at the scene. The innocent truck driver has not worked since.

What punishment might you think appropriate for the motorist who indirectly caused James' death by her carelessness? Would gaol be too extreme for culpability?

Try nothing! Not a fine, not a licence suspension, absolutely no punishment except by her own conscience and boy, do I hope that is giving her serious heartache, assuming black BMW Hawthorn drivers have a heart or a conscience. What on earth are police thinking? What on earth was the coroner thinking? What on earth is the Public Prosecutor thinking?

Bah!

You can read the full Age article here.

Not what you think

2011-12-14T07:07:00.002+11:00

Here is a building in Paddington, London. The centre two are your focus and they appear to be fine five storey houses built mid nineteenth century, but all is not what it may seem. A clue is to note the very dark windows. I will repost this later or tomorrow with an explanation and a photo of the rear. Arrgghh, enough clues. I don't think you will guess, but one of you may well know.

Nice one Vic Roads

2011-12-13T15:54:00.000+11:00

I know our Vic Roads has extraordinary knowledge and capacity to do wonderful things with our road systems for getting trams and buses on the move instead of sitting in stationary traffic. It would seem they don't do it because of a lack of funding. I should probably blame our government but Vic Roads is in control. I just read last night somewhere that in Sydney City, their RTA installed an ability for buses to control the traffic lights in their favour, yet the system has never been switched on. From what I understand, bus congestion in Sydney City is horrendous and tinkering around the edges is all that is ever done.

Our Vic Roads, well the name says it all, is about cars principally. I recall some nonsense from Vic Roads a few years ago where they said they would take control of traffic lights to move late running trams along faster. Fortunately no one held their breath waiting for that. Instead they just breath a little heavier as they are sitting in their tram as it is stuck in traffic.

Yet even though Vic Roads looks after cars, they don't get that right either. If I am going to travel on a freeway and I think it may be busy or I have to be somewhere at a certain time using the freeway, I check Vic Roads website before I leave home. Clearly I haven't been looking in the correct place. Monash Freeway was closed in both directions from the early hours of the morning due to a truck crash near Ferntree Gully Road. At about 7.15 this morning I checked Vic Roads online map to see how bad the congestion was and look at what it indicated!

The green lines heading off to the left towards the city indicate no problem at Ferntree Gully Road, yet the freeway was completely blocked. Now, at noon, it is showing heavy congestion. Believe me, it would have been heavily congested at 7.00am. Vic Roads recently made a song and dance about their new webpage, showing road closures, and yes, it did show the freeway was closed, but why not on this 'live' map, that I and I expect many others use?

I feel like ending with calling them tossers, but instead I'll just say, that is a serious fail Vic Roads.

The Cuzes

2011-12-13T07:21:00.000+11:00

I have cousins. I have never written about them. That is because I don't know them. After the manège a trios that was my parents marriage, with my father's brother, I lost touch with my uncle. He married the local school teacher and had three children. His oldest would be twenty years younger than me I suppose. I did take R to visit them once in the eighties. It went ok but there was no contact subsequently. My uncle did come to my father's funeral though. I did try to stalk the cuzes via Facebook once, but there were too many with the same name and I did not know what they looked like.

Then a year or so later, last month actually, I tried my uncle's wife's name in FB. It came straight up. I requested her to add me as a friend, which she accepted and on my page I started posting old photos of the Bolter's, that is my uncle's mother, my grandmother, who ran away to Sydney with one of her youthful music students.

Through the third party, my uncle's wife, I topped up a bit of family history. Several times earlier I had tried to write to my uncle, but it was always left unfinished in my computer folder. Too soppy, too smarmy, too distant, too revealing of what I know, keeping in mind that I don't know what his wife knows. He must be nearly seventy now. I don't know what his health is like.

I had sent about three messages to my uncle's wife and she responded each time, as well as commenting on the old photos. I sent what I think will be a last message, thanking my uncle for being our second dad when I and my ABI brother were young, well up to the age of about twelve for me. My father was mostly serious and very reserved....ha, who does that sound like. My father was very typically an embarrassment to me. My uncle, who was younger was handsome, vain (so my mother reminded me), a snappy dresser and great fun. Dad was slightly remote whereas my uncle entertained us endlessly. By the age of twelve, I also realised he was a very sexy man and had no end of local lasses in pursuit of him. I saw in him what obviously my mother saw in him. In the end, he married the local school teacher who had rich middle class parents and she also taught Tradie Brother and Sister at the local Gippsland primary school.

I don't expect to have proper contact with any of them really. It has been too long.

Post started on 07/09/11

Braghton

2011-12-12T16:24:00.000+11:00

I can no longer say Brighton without affectation. Brighton Beach, the location of my favourite Melbourne train station, is a different matter. Here are a few snaps. I took more of the station back here.

Another subway closed. Why are they being closed and filled in? I would have thought it was better to walk under the line than cross it.

Siganl box closed, but it is a two part drop sign, so it could be open at times.

The signal box has an air con unit, so it must be used sometimes.

What happened to the Green Point Cafe? There was no evidence of a cafe being there within the station. It is not advertising for the cafe located elsewhere?

I shouldn't have looked down as I boarded the train. There was the biggest gap I have ever seen between the platform and the train. I felt like some do when looking down from heights.

My ABC

2011-12-12T07:09:00.000+11:00

I can have a whinge about our ABC. There wouldn't be too many people who invest more time listening and watching our ABC than I do. Surely that gives me some rights to moan.

ABC Local Radio, Melbourne. Replacement for Richard Stubbs after he goes on holiday early on management's orders, Mark Holden. I no like.

Last Friday, cricket is due to begin at 10.25, truncating Jon Faine's program. I am of the age who used to become seriously annoyed at parliament and cricket interrupting programs on local radio. I can cope. It is time to listen to RN podcasts. But still, twenty minutes of Jon Faine's Wrap program with a right wing and left wing guest to discuss the weeks events before the cricket starts. Digital radio said no, and switched to Local Radio national replacement programme for the cricket and I missed the normally entertaining Wrap. I appreciate the digital replacement programme when the cricket is on, but not when it cuts in over an existing local programme still being broadcast.

I took a look at ABC's mobile phone website. This link looked promising. Err, no it wasn't. I don't know German.

Treasurer Swan, our ABC is clearly underfunded. Step up to the crease and fund it properly please. To be topical, fund the overseas service properly too.

Houston

2011-12-11T16:38:00.000+11:00

'Houston, we have a problem'.

Well, it looked like it was going to be a problem with a new leaf stopping barely a centimetre from the ceiling, then it opened out and dropped down lower.

I luv Telstra

2011-12-11T07:07:00.000+11:00

Hmmm, no email facility from 6pm Friday to late Saturday afternoon. I was not so stressed. It is rare that there are email problems nowadays and I correctly forecast that there wasn't an invitation to tea with Julia in Altona in my email inbox.

Apparently, email was not working because of a serious security breach at Telstra and Telstra shut the whole thing down. Golly gosh, someone could have seen our email password, xxxxxxxxx, and read our emails. What an exciting time they would have had. They have probably forsaken a Saturday night out with mates and are still reading our emails.

The www still worked, which is the main thing.

But, and isn't there always one, my day off, Friday, internet was down all morning into early afternoon. Nothing to do with the security breach. It was a server problem. The techie bloke left an e-note at the call centre to let the them know he was out fixing it.

But another but, the net outage affected many people, but no information was available in any recorded sense. I spoke to the the Telstra tech person who investigated and came back with an answer. Telstra tech help is not bad now. God, the hours I have spent on a phone line in the past. He only made a token effort to suggest I unplug and plug in my modem. He then asked the brand of the modem. Once I told him, he said that is very old. It is indeed but it works. He quickly stopped the shite of checking settings at that point, I think realising that I was a long time cable internet user.

So no, internet. I connected up R's laptop to my phone, using it as a modem and blogging went on without a hitch. I did realise that my phone when used as a modem was not secured, that is anyone nearby could tune into it and use the bandwidth to download a three hour movie. I have fixed that.

In summary, internet and email down Friday from 6am to around 1pm, then at 5pm email was shut down until around 3pm Saturday. I am fairly certain that Telstra will offer some sort of compensation.

Hot in bed

2011-12-10T16:45:00.000+11:00

Without a doubt I am hot in bed. I don't expect you would be surprised at that. Our Brother Friends are not so hot in bed. Come winter, they need a doona over a sheet with blankets on top. Yet still they feel cold and wish they were in Thailand where it is warm.

R is inclined to be hot in bed too, but perhaps not the extent I am. For reasons I can't remember, I have a queen sized bed. When I get really hot in bed, I move across the mattress to cooler area. A queen sized bed gives you a good bit of space to move around if you sleep hot.

I love spoon cuddling with someone in bed, my hand cupping their.........no, best not go down that road. But I get too hot sleeping with someone. Even before they start snoring and drive me away, ten minutes of body contact and I am on fire.

I use a feather doona over me in the winter, with all the feathers shaken down to the bottom of the doona. In summer, a doubled over cotton sheet is enough. If it is a warm night, I have the overhead fan on as well. If it is stinking hot night, we leave the air con on.

What about you? Are you hot in bed? Or do you like to stack the bedclothes on?

Franga

2011-12-10T07:06:00.000+11:00

While I know some parts of Frankston aren't so great, I find it generally ok, but then I don't live there. I have an uncle who lives there, in an older leafy part. The family, Tradie Brother who's lot who grew up in the swamps of Langwarrin, are quite disparaging about Franga, as they call it.

Is Franga dopeville? I am sure this photo from the local paper with a mary jane leaf is not representative of Frankston.

Start the weekend happy

2011-12-09T16:16:00.001+11:00

If this doesn't put a smile on your dial, then you are a misery guts. Note the lead performer, Robert Lindsay, now seen on the somewhat painful tv show My Family. The clip is worth watching just for the fantastic below the knee dresses. Why don't women dress like that anymore?

A bonus clip for you follows. I remain a bit sceptical, but it says that this was made as propaganda to upset Hitler and his cronies.

The Curling Bridge

2011-12-09T07:34:00.000+11:00

This bridge in Paddington is close to where we stayed in London. I wish I had known about it back then. Of course I would have gone to watch it working, well, if we available at twelve noon on a Friday, the day it operates. It is a rather pointless piece of infrastructure. It is best thought of as a work of art.

If you are not fond of watching paint dry, watch the beginning so that you get the idea, pause it and let the rest of it load, and then go to the end at about 2.00 minutes.

A horse is a horse, not a vehicle

2011-12-08T16:00:00.000+11:00

I thought the damn horses and carts were to be shifted out of Swanston Street. Evidently not. Still they will be in the way of bicycles and deliberately delaying trams. They are a law unto themselves. Look at this one below the Highrise, trotting along in the right hand lane and blocking the flow of traffic. There must be a dozen of the now in the city, far too many. Just wait for the hue and cry when one gets clobbered by a car or tram. Well done Lord Mayor Doyle, not.

Processing the word

2011-12-08T07:04:00.001+11:00

It must have been in the eighties when we first bought a computer, of sorts. It was a word processor and it was marvellous once we worked out how to drive it. It was quite a struggle. I seem to recall we almost gave up. R's computer course from a few years earlier, which involved sticking holes into paper cards or something like that, did not seem to be particularly useful. We continued to use it into the nineties when we bought our first proper computer. It has a floppy disk for storage and one with some instructions that I immediately erased when I read 'insert the disk and select format'.

Essentially you wrote a letter or whatever on the machine, edited it until you were satisfied, and then printed it out. It even had a built in spell checker. It could be used as a conventional electric typewriter too I think. One wonderful thing about it, it was designed in times before a pop up would say, 'It looks like you are writing a letter...'. There was little to surprise you in its operation once you learnt how it worked.

While I know little about operating systems, would it have used DOS?

Here are some pictures from http://brightbit.blogspot.com/ who found one in a office storage cupboard and fired it up.

Busker

2011-12-07T16:38:00.000+11:00

I always pay a busker if I take a photo. We gave $2. While his outfit was ok, he didn't actually do much. I thought he would make the most fabulous drag. He had cheekbones to die for. Not sure if you can see it in the photo, but the dog was 'lifting its leg'.

Decaying Mansion

2011-12-07T07:01:00.001+11:00

I rather like the idea of living in a decaying mansion. Buckets to catch water from roof leaks, some crumbling plaster and concrete, water running off the roof because the spouting has rusted, the odd door that won't close, dubious wiring, geckos coming living in wall cracks a carpets a bit threadbare. I could go on but it might be little more extreme than shabby chic.

Who lives in such a place? Well, if the media is correct, Aung Sun Su Kyi does. Unfortunately this is another post that has fallen flat on its face as I can't find interior photos of her house on New University Road in Rangoon. You'll have to make do with a couple of what I could find.

It seems it may not entirely be her house though, with a dispute between her brother and herself before the courts. The inheritance dispute started in 2001 and is ongoing and law suits and counter law suits have been filed. Renovations to the house did start after it was damaged by a cyclone, but the brother took out a successful injunction for the work to cease.

I am not sure if this is pre or post the cyclone. The roof appears to be in reasonable repair.

Here is a little closer. It does appear to be rather shabby.

This photo from Mizzima, a Burmese news site.

This may or may not be the interior of the house. I am unable to verify.

Tube Face

2011-12-06T15:50:00.000+11:00

Oh, not sure that I like the changes to You Tube. I may get used to them. I liked the old recommended videos way better. I decided to turn off the feature where people can see what you 'liked', 'commented on' and 'favourited'.

Finally Face Book has done what people actually wanted, that is to be able to sort what friends post in order of posting. It still seems to be unable to be set to default to this setting, but thank someone at least the setting has returned. Just as good, the hunt around to find a list of your friends is over. They are all listed down one side of the page. How obvious. How sensible. Why not before.

Australian time calls

2011-12-06T06:38:00.000+11:00

I suppose it is no issue to the US, or to Russia and it Australia is shouldn't be so complicated either.

ABC News Radio, a national programme, broadcasts to all of Australia simultaneously. Radio National also broadcasts to all of Australia, but I think it does some time shifting of programmes, so you don't get so many time calls.

Sorting the logistics of different time zones for our national broadcaster must be a nightmare. It is a bit of a nightmare for us listeners.

While Australia has three time zones, western, central and eastern, come daylight saving, this increases to five.

Easier for me to use the capital city names rather than state names. Eastern time zone, Melbourne, Sydney and Hobart all move forward one hour, but Brisbane does not.

Adelaide on central time moves forward an hour, but in the same zone, Darwin does not.

And nothing moves Perth in the western zone. They even took a vote on it.

So on the radio, we hear something like this.

It is 11.16 in Tasmania, Victoria and New South Wales, 10.16 in Queensland, 10.46 in South Australia, 9.46 in Nothern Territory and 8.16 in West Australia. I have heard it on the radio before, but not of late perhaps because it is the same, and 10.46 in Broken Hill. Although Broken Hill is in outback NSW, it takes it time from South Australia.

I hope that clears up any confusion you may have. It is clear as mud to me.

Bali Boy

2011-12-05T21:14:00.003+11:00

What does an Indonesian judge earn? What about a police prosecutor? I would imagine in their lifetime they might earn AU$300,000.

It rather strikes me that the next young person, perhaps a teenager too, might be dealt with rather severely by Indonesia's judicial system should they note that Bali Boy, the convicted fourteen year old drug user, profits by the rumoured $300,000 back in here in Australia by selling his story to tabloid media.

You can be sure Australia applied a very firm hand to this matter with a good result for Bali Boy. Australia's firm hand may not be so effective next time, but why would Bali Boy care. He is fine now that he is safely home. Screw everyone else.

I hope the lad resumes his life and we hear no more of him. Should we see him in tabloid media, it will show serious disrespect to Indonesia and there are already so many ways Indonesia earns disrespect, it does not need any put on it from elsewhere, least of all by a fourteen year old kid.

Wedding oddities

2011-12-05T16:04:00.003+11:00

The setting was excellent choice, at Sis in Law's, on a lawn bordered by a circular driveway and rose beds and the front fence. A white marquee had been erected, one with three open sides for the ceremony. Older guests had chairs on the lawn to sit on while the rest of the 120 stood on the driveway. The theme colours were lilac and purple and the colours worked quite well.

In the centre of the marquee stood the groom, with his and Sis in Law's combined seven children either side of him. Dreaded Nephew escorted his mother to centre stage and vows were taken. My ears pricked up when the celebrant said something like, marriage being a legally binding whatever between a man and a woman. I nudged Bone Doctor who was standing beside me. "Is this where we should jump and down and protest?" We didn't.

I felt an eye rolling moment when each of the nine of the wedding group poured different coloured sands into a glass vase. But as it went on, I thought it was very strong symbolism. The different coloured sands can never be separated. Very nice idea indeed.

What was odd? R was concerned that his suit did not look right. Don't worry R, there will be at least one person there in jeans. There were more than one.

Four young women were wearing absurd shoes. Now, if you are going to wear very high heels, please make sure you can walk elegantly in them. If you teeter or wobble or have an odd posture when wearing heels, stick to your ugg boots.

The sky was overcast and cool breeze was gently blowing. Had it have been sunny and hot, we would have all cooked while standing there. Had it rained, well, I don't know what would have happened. They really gambled on the weather and won.

Is it appropriate for guests to hold a stubby of beer while the ceremony is proceeding? I wouldn't have thought so, but at least four men and one women had one in their hands, taking the occasional swig.

There seemed to be two female professional photographers. They may well have been amateurs and friends of the bride, I don't know. But they had big cameras multiple lenses. They were nicely dressed, but neither had shoes on. They moved around the lawn snapping away in stockinged feet.

Chainsaw Niece read a speech. Oh no, I said to Bone Doctor. CN never stops talking and rarely finishes one sentence before starting another. I can occasionally make sense of what she saying. So why get her to read the speech? She read it perfectly, well paced, loud enough to be heard and with good diction, yet it did not sound rehearsed. Another really nice moment.

The truly surprising thing was that among the 120 guests, not one phone rang or beeped during the ceremony.

We adjourned to the side and open area of the house for drinks and nibbles, which lasted about thirty minutes, and then we headed off to the reception, a very short drive away. Although we left as soon as we had eaten, there were still speeches to come, telegrams to read and a band to play for dancing.

I wandered off from the reception with thoughts of throwing myself in the creek if I did not get food soon. The creek is tidal and breeds fabulously large mosquitoes. Although the camera decided to focus on a twig rather than the distance, the local Pelican Cafe can just be seen. Damn, I just googled it. It is famous for fish and chips. I could have gone and gotten some.

I changed my mind about jumping into the creek when I realised how muddy it was. Mud a pretty corpse does not make. The creek is tidal and under a bridge seawater was pouring in through a narrow opening. The park on the opposite bank looked very peaceful and inviting. I think R took the bride and groom there for photos to be taken.

Public halls in the country are to be treasured. This one is in excellent condition and was just the right size.

I saw the light

2011-12-05T08:38:00.001+11:00

Weird evening light. It lasted less than one minute.

Wedding

2011-12-04T06:56:00.001+11:00

I suppose it is no surprise that Tradie Brother wasn't invited to his ex wife's wedding, but we, the rest of the Highriser side of the family were. The appropriateness of us attending was discussed among ourselves. We all like Sis in Law, and she is the mother of our nieces and nephew. The nieces and nephews are Mother's grandchildren, the grandchildren she and late Step Father took our about on Sunday drives, beach outings, spoiling them and loving them as grandparents do. They all treat Mother with love, affection and respect, rather better than Mother' s own children do.

The wedding, ok we must attend. It is obligation. I will be thinking about Tradie Brother, home alone, while everyone he knows in his life is attending his ex wife's wedding. Ah well, crap happens.

R and I had discussed the last wedding we attended, which we thought was Tradie Brother and Sis in Law's wedding some twenty five years ago. We both had totally forgotten about R's Sister's wedding which we organised in Sydney when they came to Australia in 2005 I think. I wrote about it at the time.

The invitation to Sis in Law's wedding said 1pm ceremony at their home, 3pm reception at the local hall.

This was also the only day before christmas that Sister could fit in a visit to us for us to see Little Jo. We won't be showing Little Jo the Myer christmas windows this year, it seems. Sister and Bone Doctor were irresponsible as usual. They went off for a walk around the park, and then bought brunch and arrived back at the Highrise at the time we planned to leave. Little Jo helped R erect the christmas tree and I showed her my advent calendar and we found the number 3 window to open.

The wedding was lovely. There were nibbles and drinks afterwards, but with 120 people, the snacks did not last long and people were urged off to the reception at 2.30.

The drinks were plentiful, but we wanted food. We did all sort of things to amuse and entertain ourselves. Sister had to leave at 4.30 to drive to Sorrento to get the ferry home for a lighting up of her town's christmas tree. No food for them.

The food from the caterers arrived just before 6. We had been sitting there for over three hours with no food, nothing to do but chat, get up, go outside, come back in, go to where the kids were playing, filling in time. The food was late as the staff at the caterers were all new kids, because Sis in Law manages the catering business and all the usual staff were at the wedding.

The food was supposed to arrive at 5, but I just don't get what we supposed to do between our reception arrival time of 3pm, and 5pm when the food was to be served. Many of the blokes just got horribly drunk. I gulped down my food when it did eventually arrived and immediately started to gee up R up to leave. Oh, did I add that Step Mother asked us to drop her back to Tradie Brother's, where she was staying? Although it was a diversion, not too bad. I wanted to see Tradie Brother anyway, just to make sure he was coping with the day when his ex wife married. Step Mother had drunk quite enough, so it was good to dump her back at Tradie Brother's house. Brother had his evening outdoor fire going. They will both get have a nice evening chatting.

Ann O'Dyne asked me to post about the wedding. She said it is in the genes that women like weddings. I will, but this is a summary of the day we had to do.

Making Up

2011-12-03T06:06:00.000+11:00

Something light to start your weekend?

I looked for a particular track from the eighties on You Tube. I found it, Kim Wilde's Cambodia if you are interested. It led me to another. Before I knew it, an hour had passed listening to eighties music. I had forgotten how good it was, well some of it.

Ah, the good old days, when men were real men, and wore makeup.

Pete Burns from Dead or Alive. Search for his photo now. He is a tragedy.

The less said about the present day Gary Glitter the better, but he epitomised glam rock. His look now is very different.

Melbourne's own Red Symons, back then from the marvellous band Skyhooks, now a breakfast radio announcer on ABC Melbourne. How did he become an old man?

Holly Johnston from Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Age may not weary them, but it doesn't do much for their desirability.

Adam Ant. He disappeared in the nineties. If you search for his present day photo, you may guess what he did for his lost decade.

Phillip Oakey from Human League. Balding, grey haired and just old, albeit trim looking.

Later thought. This is a boring post and I just know you won't bother searching for their present day photos, because you probably don't really care. So, I will do the job for you.

Pete Burns

Gary Glitter

Red Symons

Holly Johnston

Adam Ant

Phillip Oakey

Nice Thing

2011-12-02T07:06:00.001+11:00

Among the photos of the Bolter (my paternal grandmother), I found one of a house in Devonport, Tasmania which she had some connection with. The Bolter had written the exact address in white ink, as was the habit then. I checked on a couple of sites and the house is still there and I could see it with Street View. I scanned and printed out the photo and sent a copy to owner with a note, including my email address.

Our neighbour back in the eighties gave us a photo of our old house in East Malvern taken just after it was built, 1934 I think. I scanned that and printed it out and sent a copy with a note to the present occupants, including my email address.

R said it was a nice thing to do. I thought so. I realise not everyone is interested in history or buildings as much as I am, not everyone has email, though I did include my name and where I live, so I could be found in the phone book, but there was no response from either.

People have been very kind and helpful to me on the internet over the years. I hope I have always thanked them. I think I have.

Sending the photos cost less than a dollar, nothing, and a little time. A lack of response will not stop me doing such thing again, but I am slightly disappointed. Perhaps I am just being silly and expecting too much. They didn't ask for the photos. I just thought they might find them interesting.

Penang Railway

2011-12-01T06:59:00.000+11:00

The Penang Hill railway opened in 1923 and is a funicular railway on the island of Penang, Malaysia. It closed for renovations in 2010 and reopened a bit more than twelve months later, with a very different system, including new aircon, and I must say rather characterless, trains made in Switzerland.

In the old train, you were quite aware of the temperature drop as you rose into the Penang Hill, about five degrees C, from below in George Town.

Our friend who sent the pictured brochure, remarked that the trip is now incredibly quick compared to the old train. I expect you can't hang out the window anymore and take in the smells and sounds of the jungle. It is still a funicular train though, being one going up is connected to one going down, both assisting each other.

For your pleasure and education, I have found mercifully short You Tube clips to show you both the old and new trains.

The new one looks terribly sleek.

This one is of the older train, so of course the video must be a bit longer as the train is slower. You can see a train passing, the train controls, meaningless as they are, the driver exercising his hands and the George Town skyline as the train nears the bottom.

And what is to see on Penang Hill? Quite a lot really. A few of the attractions are featured in this video without very much of the train. You can also look at the website http://penanghill.gov.my/ too.