Saturday, December 10, 2011

Hot in bed

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, 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?


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.

Friday, December 09, 2011

Start the weekend happy

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

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.

Thursday, December 08, 2011

A horse is a horse, not a vehicle

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

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 who found one in a office storage cupboard and fired it up.

Wednesday, December 07, 2011


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

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.

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

Tube Face

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

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.

Monday, December 05, 2011

Bali Boy

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

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

Weird evening light. It lasted less than one minute.

Sunday, December 04, 2011


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.