Personal Stuffs

Written last week. Already behind. I took the batter off a fish at the venue and ate mashed potatoes with the fish. White diet on track, 

with the procedure done today, Monday.

Well, back to square one with me now teaching Kosov how to drive. Phyllis is quite competent at driving now and has not banged up my car. Kosov has an Indian driving licence which makes it an easy administrative process. He needs to sit the test, and he's done the theory, so as he has an Indian driving licence, driving a manual car, stick shift as I believe it is called in America, it should be easy. 

It isn't. He doesn't know how to drive at all. I would almost say he is worse than Phyllis at the beginning. I had to smack his left leg to get it away from the brake pedal and on to the footrest. One day driving around Albert Park Lake, with quite some improvement the next day, I'm sure he'll get there. Twice I told Phyllis who was in the back seat to shut up at advising Kosov about his driving in their language. 

It interests me how they switch from their language to English and back. Oddly sometimes with me around they will talk their own language, but from their bedroom, I hear them talking in English and their own language. Their language sounds quite rapid fire, and they tend to speak English very rapidly, which at times makes it hard for me to understand them. Phyllis' spoken English is better, whereas Kosov's is slower, and at times he struggles for the correct English word.

It's been a busy week, with three medical appointments and dinner out with Bone Doctor and Jo, who called in after spending a couple of days with Bone Doctor's mother in south Gippsland, who is rapidly deteriorating with MS.

They parked here and went out to explore the new Metro Tunnel, before returning for an early dinner with me and then going off to see a new production of Pirates of Penzance at the Palais Theatre. Sister and Bone Doctor bought Jo a car from an elderly couple across the road and Jo's university where she will live in, is a long way from home, and she will return to home each weekend. 

Today I went food shopping, and I say that advisedly as I mostly buy tissues and Vim, along with restocking my metaphorical wine cellar. Phyllis and Kosov buy most of the fresh food to cook. It has become a lot harder to find a car parking space where I shop, so I need to leave home before 10.00. This does not suit me, so I am thinking of another way to shop. 

Sunday there will be a family celebration for my great niece's 10th birthday. It's over an hour away, in Balnarring, which most people, including me pronounce as Balnairing, but last weekend at the great nephew's first birthday, my niece's husband argued to his wife and children that it is more like the a in apple, and he was quite right. I hate being wrong so I did check. 

Sadly I will be on the 'white diet' on Sunday, some of you will know what I mean, and I've looked at the menu and I can have grilled fish  and chips, no vegetables or salad. 

Can I chuck in a photo? Let me look. Don't we all need a blue Aga?

Monday Mural

With Sami and others, here is my effort for Monday Mural.

This is not exactly a mural, as it is metal sculpture but still, it's rather nice and can be seen at the Returned Servicemen's League in the suburb of Altona. I can't really find who created the work. 

Sunday Selections

Along with River and and others, here is is my Sunday Selections. 

Crouching tiger, ready to attack. 

My goodness, does Phyllis know how to fry spicy chicken.

It would be rather sad to not have the complete set. South Melbourne Library and not a set of books I know.

Things come and go on the kitchen benches and the shelving unit.  I know not the reason.

The sun arises as the bush burns.

Bugger orf Kosov. My whisky consumption is not your business. This was in retaliation to something I'd done. 

Travelling to a wedding in a Yank Tank.

With more Yank Tanks following.

The number plate on this car made no sense to me, and nor did what I think is a stylised US flag.

I see a bad moon arising. 

A pick up on the street

Maybe twice or more a week I take coffee at the cafe across the road, and while in the morning I will order a long black, if I visit in the afternoon before 3.00, closing time, I order a double espresso. There are three outdoor tables, each sitting four people, and yesterday, all tables were occupied, one by a woman I know by sight as a regular customer. 

It is just really politeness, not an actual request, but I asked if she minded if I sat at her table, she said, of course, please sit. I sat diagonally opposite here. She asked if I was having my usual espresso. Hmm, she's noticed me before. 

She might be 55 or so, well enough dressed and made up. I let the conversation die, and we both occupied ourselves with our phones. I was thinking to myself, this is ridiculous and when my coffee arrived I asked if she lived nearby, which was silly, as obviously she does. 

That broke the phone focus and we chatted about all sorts of things but her constant was her loneliness, and especially how hard it was for her during Covid lock down. She visits the cafe mainly for contact with people.

I mentioned my late partner without being gender specific. But I made sure she saw my little finger painted with black nail polish, lest she goes down a wrong path. 

My hard head says, be careful. My heart says, no harm. It's nice to have a chat.

Much to YP's horror, I probably would have preferred to just keep looking at my smart phone.   

Friday Funnies

You could check out Reese Brothers. There is no need for me to use explicit language, but fuck is said a few times.

https://youtube.com/shorts/ylnf8Tm_zqc?si=kjL5sJXRgZeIrIfd 

The bewigged actor is quite hot.

But so is Teddy with his cool Aussie wog accent. His humour that I've seen is based on suburban stereotypes. He's become a successful comedian. https://youtube.com/shorts/YC2lxD9vW1M?si=zFTtA90jhdvOvdHs 

Public phone life

This post is inspired by Hel who wrote this most interesting post about the history of the classic red English phone box and other models, or perhaps that is the UK.

So, let's have a look at public phones in Australia that lie in my memory.

This is the first oldest public phone I can remember. On the horizontal part, you can just see a half round circle and you sat your sixpence or five cents there, and when the phone was answered at the other end, you would push your coin to the left and it would roll and drop down into the phone.

This is not a public phone but some of the above had separate earpieces and fixed mouth pieces similar to what is in the candlestick phone below. I don't remember there being much in the way of vandalism as everyone used them at time, and wanted them to work. 

This model became quite standard in my younger years.  Five cents would be inserted into the slot at the top and when the call was answered, you pressed button A. Button B was to retrieve your coin if the call wasn't answered. As kids we often just pressed button B to see if anyone had left a coin in the phone but I can't remember if we ever found any. It was common knowledge that if you yelled into the ear piece, the person at the other end could faintly hear you, enough to say 'Pick me  up', if there was an arrangement in place. I don't remember if that worked either. Sometimes just calling without using a coin was sufficient. My grandmother called her home and the phone ringing alerted my grandfather to drive to pick her up from church.  It's a wonder you could get a dial tone without inserting a coin. 

So what housed these important machines? It was an English style classic red phone box, of various styles. This one has panes of glass but I remember some at least, having louvred windows, which I guess let in external noise. This was taken at the National Communications Museum in the suburb of Hawthorn. It's well worth a visit.

I assume the paint used inside was to stop people writing on the walls. I can imagine people scribbling a  phone number on a wall that they needed to remember. It could have also been for insulation the boxes from external noise too. They had a very dead sound inside and with the door shut, very little noise penetrating. 

Now, I wonder if there is a gap in my knowledge. These are the next public phones I can remember. They were virtually vandal proof, with the very inconveniently short metal cord.

                                               

With a closing door, these boxes weren't too bad.

But clearly vandalism was becoming a big problem, with this version minus the door and with a metal grill around the bottom of the box, rather than glass.

Indoors, you would see phones more like these.

What do we have now? These very modest affairs. The pink topped one indicates free WiFi, which was originally only for Telstra customers, of which I was then one. In days before apps, how did the system know you were a Telstra customer? 

At one point as usage fell by 2020s, all calls within Australia to fixed phones and mobiles became free from public phones, so no complicated machinery for coins or bank cards were needed, no risk of coin theft.

Many are now covered in advertising, electronic at times. 

I suppose these phone cards are from the nineties into the two thousands, and before you could use a bank card. Kosov loved the Australian dinosaur card. The two lower cards have punch holes in them, made by the phone as you used your stored value card. I've heard since that you could put tape over the holes and whatever detected the holes saw the card as unused. The two top cards were later when a circuit was printed on the card, so no more punch holes.

Of extra interest to note, the lower right has the name Telecom, which followed the earlier PMG, Post-Master General's, the title for our government postal and phone company. Without fuss or fanfare, Telecom became Telstra, as seen in the left hand card.  

A visit to Switzerland

I've read two or three Agatha Christie books, and of course they were ok. But I absolutely loved the tv series Poirot, based on her books. My favourite episode was called The Labours of Hercules, which I believe is the name of a work of art.

The scenery, Series 13 Episode 04 was lavish. The hotel where it was filmed was lavish. The story line was excellent, the acting faultless and I haven't finished watching it yet. But oh the scenery, and a funicular, and my long time readers will know I do like a good funicular. 

If you are still reading my blog, thanks to the person who pointed out Daily Motion to me to find older films and tv series, and there I found a not so good copy of the episode. I am not paying, so I cannot complain. The stills I took are far from illustrating the lavishness of the series, but you'll get your idea. The name of the uploader is oddly called Deaddogsdam.

Ok, here we go. A bit of research work will be needed.

The journey to the resort begins with the funicular. To appraise those who don't know, funiculars are rail vehicles that can climb steep hills by the weight of a connected descending car. Power is still needed but not much.

Ready to board below the mountain resort.  

 

A passing loop, before the car enters a tunnel. Spoiler alert, there is an avalanche whereby the tunnel is filled with snow, making the funicular inoperable. 

 

The view from the car looking upwards. The interior of the vehicle is a prop built in Pinewood Studios, London. Hey, and aren't we worried about AI?

The car creaked, squeaked and groaned as it carried its passengers to the ascent destination.

Perfectly safe.

Here's the hotel on the horizon.

Exiting the funicular. 

The hotel was for very swank guests. 

What wondrous views. 

The denouement: While the setting was Switzerland, it wasn't actually. Le funiculaire de Saint-Hilaire du Touvet is in France and was built to service a sanatorium, which is used as the hotel. Who knows where the hotel interior scenes were filmed.