Diner

Ok, we didn't search hard in New York but I was a little disappointed to not come across a proper diner as we know them from films and tv. I wasn't hoping for a '50s or '60s diner (maybe a lie), but a modern version of them. Do you have a mental picture of what I am talking about? 

We did find a place a bit close to our digs, in Chelsea and while I can't remember what I ate, I do remember R chose the awful Canadian concoction called poutine and loved it. 

Jackie in Toronto mentioned a Brooklyn diner in this post but it seems rather upmarket compared to my diner imaginings.

What was that tv series about gay men in New York? and one of the star's mother worked in a diner? Her character name was Debbie.....Novotny? Ah yes, the US version of Queer as Folk. That is the kind of diner I wanted to visit.

Poutine. Ghastly. Worse, there is a small bowl of some slop to add to the slop.

We were overlooked at the diner by this billboard. So distracting but then we were in the Packing Meat district. 

Grand Pricks Weekend

I'll omit mention of my drug reaction from this post.

The Australian Grand Prix car race was held from last Thursday until Sunday at Albert Park, just a few hundred metres from us. It has been cancelled for the last two years, the first time in March 2020 at the last minute as people were queuing to enter. Why was that? The mask in my right hand pocket and the tiny bottle of sanitiser in my left hand pocket remind me.

Friday earlier than we thought Ex Sis in Law and her husband arrived. They parked in the street and we had to take the parking permit down to them. We had coffee and chatted until Fire Fighting Nephew and Little Ju arrived. We let FFN into our carpark to use our tandem space and he appreciated that we had bought almond milk for his coffee. Dairy used to cause him skin reactions. 

He wandered off to the Grand Prix with his free four day ticket as we four Little Ju entertained us. We took Little Ju to a beachside cafe for lunch. While we have been going there for years, the food was rather ordinary. Little Ju and R had a paddle in the water. 

Back home it was time for Little Ju to have a swim in our pool and she loved it. All of our nieces and nephews were introduced to swimming under the age of one and were adequate swimmers by the age of six. And so it is for the great nieces and nephew.

FFN arrived back before six and off everyone went home. Peace!

He arrived again the next day, Saturday, early afternoon and found a car space outside and went straight to the Grand Prix. He went into the city after the races finished and returned home about ten and sounding very jovial. Hmmm. He showered and we all went to bed at about 11. 

Meanwhile unexpected fireworks happened in Albert Park and they were so in our faces, it was amazing. I having seen many fireworks over the years here have become a bit blaze about them, but these were so close, the noise so loud as it ricocheted down the street that I remained rooted on the balcony in the moment, and so no photos. R took some but I haven't downloaded them yet.

I expected FFN to sleep late the next morning but he was up at 8, stating he was so used to getting up early for work or to look after Little Ju, he could not longer sleep in.

I made him coffee and showed him where the cereal was and offered to get the toaster out but he said he would go into the city and get something which he did and then as ordered by his wife, The General, drove to the big Swedish furniture shop to buy some things for his coming twin sons. Back here and then off to the GP for the final day.

He briefly called in to say goodbye at the end of the race, and we then trooped off to the Elsternwick pub for dinner with the Brighton Antique Dealer, her toy boy and our Hair Dresser friend. 

Big weekend really and tiring. The next gathering will be a pub lunch at the Langwarrin Hotel on Easter Saturday for the twin girls' birthday. We've bought them some kids makeup from the Seed shop and hopefully enough Easter Eggs, eight, for all the kids who will be there, and of course Mother's Cherry Ripe Easter Egg. She will be the only adult who we will give one too.

I'll leave you with some photos of the plane display entertainment at the Grand Prix. Friday and Sunday had the RAAF Roulettes, always good to watch.

Footy fashion

[delete before publishing: Insert gratuitous hot footballer photo and turn it into a post]

Bailey Smith is a Australian Rules footballer and is the new advertising face for the clothing chain Cotton On. While I sometimes like men with long hair and his has great potential, I don't like the style at all. Not quite as bad as a nearly bald grey haired man with what hair is left pulled into a ponytail but to use a good American word, his hair looks goofy.

Just as goofy is his wispy blond moustache, not terribly visible at times. Nevertheless, I have been seeing many blond and fair haired guys on the streets now sporting such moustaches. Will it become a world wide fashion trend? Did Smith pick it up from an overseas trend? 

Sexy pose, but oh the hair. 

I don't mind his hair at all in this photo. Even here if you enlarge you can see the pathetic wispy blond moustache. 

It's only words...

There were two things that made me cross in one night's news.

One was boss of Qantas Airlines Tony Joyce partly blaming passengers for overcrowding and delays at  the Sydney domestic air terminal by departing passengers. People were apparently slow and had forgotten about the need to take laptops from your luggage for screening, along with aerosols. That is absurd. Sometimes you need to take your laptop out. Sometimes you need to take your tablet out. Sometimes both. Sometimes neither. You have to rely on accurate signage which is so often not there or not clear. Certainly never clear about tablets, which are essentially a large phone.

What was known is that it would be very busy with the beginning of New South Wales school holidays and the Melbourne Grand Prix underway.

The other story is about mostly unqualified people, influencers I believe, who use the internet who offer financial advice

The spokesperson who defended the current situation muddied the water by saying something the internet gurus can grasp and defend themselves with. That is, it is not up to internet companies to decide what is good financial advice and what is not. Who could disagree with that? They can defend the barriers with such a phrase.

I am sure the spokesperson is not stupid. He has attempted to manipulate with words. No one is talking about whether the financial advice is good or bad. It is about whether such financial should be allowed to be broadcast on the internet by unqualified people. Lordy, it is not like even professional financial advisors can be too proud of some of their advice, in Australia at least.

I suppose language has always been used in such a way, but it seems omnipresent now. The first that stuck out to me was during I think the war in Iraq, the phrase being collateral damage, used for those killed in war who had nothing to do with the war.  I think the phrase 'friendly fire' came from the same war, where those on your own side were inadvertently killed by your own side. I think we already had 'own goal' for such situations. 

We must remain ever alert to how organisations of all kinds will try to manipulate us with words.

Monday Mural

Joining with Sami and others for Monday Mural.

Near where where in Langs Lane where I posted a mural last week, I also found this one. Maybe in Little Bourke Street but no doubt Cathy will correct me if I am wrong. 

I love it. 

Soaring like an eagle

There was no way I was going to visit the Mornington Peninsula on a weekend. It is far too busy and congested. Ex Sis in Law and her husband were holidaying in their caravan at a foreshore caravan park in Rye. We considered taking some accommodation for a couple of nights but decided to make it a daytrip as things were quite busy at home. Ex SiL works not far away so she was still going to work but wasn't working on the Tuesday, so we decided that was the day.

They had already hosted three grandchildren there, each for their own overnight stay and when we visited they had the about to turn five twins with them for their overnight stay. We had a light lunch the husband had prepared, picky things, which I like with a play on the beach with the twins and some chat while they amused themselves.

Bathing boxes for storage, chairs, tables, beach equipment but no electricity, gas, plumbed water or sewerage. One of these recently sold for AU$570,000

The bay was blissfully calm. It was warm without being hot and little wind.

With exception of the husband we in two cars headed back towards Melbourne for twenty minutes to Arthurs Seat at Dromana. The cars climbed the steep and winding road to peak. This is a new chairlift gondola system called Arthurs Seat Eagle, replacing the old chairlift. R and myself were last here a few years ago when construction had just finished and gondolas were running empty for testing.

We had some very expensive coffee and snacks at the cafe and a gaze around the gift shop.

I didn't think the the ride itself was badly priced. We wrangled a family couple with two children plus one senior ticket for about $70.

Looking north toward Mount Martha and Mount Eliza.

The twins were a little apprehensive and scared to move off their seats but that didn't last long. I got them going at waving and singing out hello to other passengers as we passed them by. 

We said our goodbyes after our trip down and then up and headed for home.

I'll just temporarily sneak this photo in of the twins sitting on the old chairlift seats placed at the bottom of the ride. Funny how we felt perfectly safe on those seats and not locked in a cage.