Friday, October 15, 2004

Fluffy dog story

The busker was in his usual place with his usual instrument and usual rug at his feet with usual fluffy toy dog lying asleep. That is a stuffed toy doy, not a live one, but the passing dog on a leash did not realise this.

He barked, charged at it and stopped half a metre short, ran back, barked agian, charged and stopped short again.

A quick glance at the owner gave him not a clue what to do, so when in doubt, just bark repeatedly.

The owner decided to move on and the dog happily went with her, satisfied that he silenced and stilled that potentially agressive ball of fluff.

Blogs I read

I have looked at many blogs and most.........well, there is something about many that just does not grab me. I do like them to be personal, rather that about a specific issue.
One I have read since about 1999 I think, is There is just something about the way Daniel writes and what he observes that I like. The name was the first thing that grabbed me. Reminded me of Tim and Debbie in Australia You're Standing In It and their running sketch with chunky custard.

More recently I discovered Agent Fare Evader is very clever and knowledgeable and his accounts of suburban train trips are quite fascinating.

And the most recent, like in the last couple of weeks, I have started reading is Rae's, Where the Wild Thoughts Are It is a nice human sort of blog and I have added it too my list.

Three blogs are enough to keep up with. When I some time, I will have a look around blogger and see where to put them on the main page.

Sister and friend are staying with us tonight when they return from seeing The Producers. It will be interesting to hear a first hand report. Then brunch with them tomorrow at Red Orange. Yum.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Problem for older people

Well the real problem for older people is that you never actually feel older. You certainly don't have more confidence in your beliefs, you don't feel you are wiser, although you do feel very experienced.

I see a narrow strip of raised concrete, or a wall, and I want to walk along it. I see a fence in my way, I want to leap over it (I don't coz I may do myself an injury).

But having said all that nonsense, I was walking along a bluestone cobbled lane near work and coming toward me was an older fellow employee of Greek extraction, perhaps 55 years old.

The lane had a middle spoon drain and it was raining and water was running down the drain. I saw him several metres away and I stepped to the opposite side of the drain. But he did the same at the same time. We are on a collision path. I stepped across again, as did he.

Then like a schoolgirl, he skipped from side to the other several times. It was like he was back as a ten year old.

I could only laugh and said as he passed, you can't take the young person out of some people.

It was a very nice moment.

Grumble grumble, bah, humbug

October 14th comes once a year and much I try and ignore it, no one allows me too. I sure they take delight in noticing me add another year. Mr R Symons on ABC Radio Melbourne informed me that I am in company with Cliff Richard. Well, I could look as young as him if I had as much plastic surgery.

Interesting pressie though. A book called Coronation Talkies by Susan Kurosawa. Set in India in the times of the raj, it looks to be about a hill station called Chalaili. I always enjoy a good raj story, right back from when Tales of the Raj was published.

And an amazing card from our friend in Japan. Sort of a parachute with a parent monkey hanging from it and hanging from parent is a baby monkey. Very cute and beautifully made as are many things like that in Japan.

Front page of The Age today has a story of a feasibility study to run a tram from St Kilda to Port Melbourne along the beach. What a great tourist trip that would make and quite useful for locals I think too.

Monday, October 11, 2004


Over 25 odd years, we have had some interesting neighbours and some famous ones. The famous ones first. In Elwood, Sam Lipski, newspaper columnist and tv political commentor's mother lived in our block of flats. A grand old Russian dame was she and Sam used to visit her often.

In East Malvern the other half of our semi detatched lived Ida Sutcliffe. Means nothing? She was the painter Albert Tucker's sister and we met him once when he visited. She filled us in on wonderful detail of the Heidi painters, John and Sunday Reid who brought up her nephew, before he unfortunately suicided. Mrs Sutcliffe's father was a parliamentarian in the state's first parliament.

In Balaclava we lived next door to Nicholas Bell, an actor, who you may not have heard of but I am sure you will have seen him on tv.

Across the road lived Nick Cave briefly.

And have you ever been pulled up in Balaclava by an old woman with long grey hair to sign an animal rights petition. Yep, Gloria lived across the street. On the other side of us lived an old Latvian couple, but their grandson is doing well in multimedia and has been on tv.

Now Mr D Hinch lives in our block of apartments, and sad to say, Mr S Newman has bought a place here for a 'friend' to live in.

Interesting? Well the old Latvian couple were way kewl. So old, he 90 plus and she in her eighties. He made our mail box for us. At 92 he fell off his roof while doing roof repairs and hurt his arm.

Gloria was a pain in the ass, always wanting something. Funny to see a woman in her seventies with a tatt on her hand.

Mrs Sutcliff was a wonderful neighbour. She was very proper but so interesting. Seen the ad on tv of the old woman welcoming her new gay neighbours with scones? Well that was exactly how it was and the scones kept coming over the years. She was so full of middle class preducices but had no problem with us and her children appreciated us looking out for her. Her famous brother was in a world of his own. She did have some of his pictures hanging on her walls. Idiot thiefs never chose her place to rob though.

Mr Hinch can be interesting, but only after he is 'cheered up'.

Sunday, October 10, 2004


My strongest emotion is surprise. Sad to say, but burn this indelibly into your brains future politicians. Hip pocket nerve.