The Flood

I woke at 6.30 to the sound of dripping water. It was landing on the closed toilet seat lid in he main toilet. I opened the lid for the water to fall into. The floor was flooded, including Jass' litter tray. In my brunch coat without a skerrick of lippy, I knocked on the door of the apartment above, but without a response. I went down to ground level and called them on the intercom. After the third call, someone responded and let me in up to his floor, who walked from his bedroom across squelching wet carpet to answer. Then another lad appeared, and then a third, the last being bare topped but that did not distract me. I forget the exchange but he asked if I could help. In the service room in the stairwell, I showed him how to shut off the water. 

I knew exactly the problem. A flexible hose had burst and given it was hot water, it was under the basin of bathroom. A few decades ago, as a cost saving measure, a man, and I know it must have been a man, decided flexible pipes connecting to fixed copper pipes was a good idea, and they have been very widely used. But they have a shelf life of a very cautious five years to ten years or even fifteen years. I expect the hoses were original, so they have done well, lasting for 27 years.

I had hoped the water was just localised and once it stopped dripping into the toilet, all would be well Then I noticed some water running down the wall of my ensuite, then some drips on the cornice in the kitchen. Oh dear, the kitchen floor was wet.

I attempted to call the building manager several times but I didn't think he started until 9.30. He eventually called back, explaining and apologising that he was late as he wasn't well. 

Then things began happening, and the next two hours were a whirl of people, phone calls, text messages, emails, and a building flood specialist visited, needing authorisation to to begin work for me. Being Saturday, many people weren't working but did help out this damsel in distress in an emergency situation.

At some point Phyllis arose and remarked that he had heard dripping when he was half awake but saw his window was wet and assumed it was rain. He stepped out of bed later onto wet carpet. There is wet carpet in the spare room too.

I can't remember what I was going to do on Saturday, but whatever, it didn't happen. By 2 o'clock there were two industrial sized dehumidifiers blasting away, along with four industrial sized air circulating fans, with three more to be added this morning. These will be blasting away for seven days. Imagine the noisiest range hood fan multiplied by seven running non stop in your home for seven days. We can turn them off at night, but they are fine running in the living area, just not in the bedrooms at night. 

As I understand, correctly the Owners' Corporation, informally the Body Corp's insurance will pay for the drying out and repainting where necessary. I am assured as a side benefit is the carpets will dry out too, but if not, it is classed as home contents, not a building issue, so it is down to my home contents insurance, which I nearly didn't pay last year as we've never made a claim, but I am glad I did pay it (I had to check to make sure I had), being a back up for the carpet. 

So to put it concisely, life is shit and will be for the next week, and perhaps longer. Sunday I took a long train ride to Upper Combuctor West, just to get away from home and the noise. I did stop off for a bite to eat and coffee at Footscray, and for the first time as I sipped my coffee, I felt uncomfortable there, with many people around with mental health issues and some distant shouty person.  

Yesterday would have been Ray's 77th birthday. We always faced crises together. Now it is all down to me. Mind, Phyllis and Kosov have been understanding, and cleaned up a heap of wet cat litter that Jass had flung about, but they are barely more than kids.

Rationalise Andrew. I am not a victim of Cyclone Narelle. I am not getting bombed. There isn't a threat to my existence, so there, I feel better now. No, I don't. 

 

Sunday Selections

I'm participating with River and others in Sunday Selections, with a noise level around me of 65 db. It's quieter outside with passing traffic and trams. I will explain the disaster later today or tomorrow, but obviously I am physically ok, just perhaps not so well mentally.

Nevertheless, this Sunday, the skies have it.

Obviously looking east, (the sun rises in the east everywhere?) this was a rather nice sunrise.

Then a week or so later the sun has moved further north, right to left, and I caught it on the day when it rises fully between these two high rise buildings in South Yarra. As Jackie once said, when she moved to a high rise in Toronto, she was quite amazed at how the sun moved in the skies. 

Looking towards Albert Park Lake and Port Phillip, there seems to be smoke rising in this sunset photo. I can't even remember taking this photo. I suppose it could just be cloud.

I love the way the clouds are illuminated in this photo. 

These two were taken a minute apart and I couldn't decide which one to use, so I've posted both.

If you like pretty guys (or girls) you may like Kpop. Via Phyllis I've heard a couple of songs I like. 

Soulful Saturday

Tom Dula, pronounced Dooley, in North Carolina murdered a woman and was hanged for the crime. 

A live performance of the song by Kingston Trio in the 1950s has poor audio. This audio only recording is good. 

The Dooleys

For some reason Australia's bird expert came into my mind, and Sean Dooley now has permanent presence on ABC Melbourne at I think ten past two. It is talk back, and people tune in to listen and to call in with questions about birds. 

Then into my mind came a choone, a tune, and the first couple of lines were like this.

Hang down your head Tom Dooley

Hang down your head with shame

Hang down your head Tom Dooley

Hang down your head and cry.

I won't look it up, and don't you. Allow those who already know the song and what it is about speak first.

Was it black American related? Or maybe it was Irish? I don't know.  

Australia's bird expert, Sean Dooley.

I did but see her passing by

Danish lad Frederik became Crown Prince of Denmark at the age of four and heir apparent to the Danish throne. He was very well educated and worked quite a number of job, but never at McDonalds.

While attending the Sydney Olympics in 2000, at a bar he picked up Mary Donaldson, from the Australian state, Tasmania. They must have had a good time together, and married in 2004.

Fred's mum Marg abdicated in 2023 and Fred became King Frederik X of Denmark in 2024 and Australia's Mary became Queen of Denmark. Pretty cool, hey. Twenty plus years on, in spite of rumours of Frederik's dalliances, they still make a happy looking couple as they visit Australia. 

They have spent a couple of days in Melbourne, doing what royals do. 

I crossed the road to visit the cafe for a cup of coffee and two police on motorcycles were sitting on the side of the road. Yippee, they are looking out for bad drivers at the intersection. Nah, they moved forward into the intersection and police cars arrived, cleared the intersection of all traffic and any new traffic was stopped. Right, I thought as I sipped my double espresso, a VIP is coming through. It was blocked for quite some time, maybe five minutes, which allows a free run for a VIP car. Just as the motorcade arrived, maybe ten or more vehicles, it clicked in my mind who the VIP's were. The King and Queen of Denmark. 

I snapped away at the motorcade with my phone, not knowing any of what I was photographing, but by gosh, I got a snap of their car. A little research did not inform of what the number plate AA is about, but the coat of arms kind of gives it away. Unless it was decoy car, the royals were inside this one.

Well, don't I have such an exciting life! But the royals hidden behind darkly tinted glass as they raced by was nothing like seeing Queen Elizabeth leaving a tram to hop into a Range Rover to visit (state) Government House in 2011. 

The English visitors

They were a delightful couple to keep company with. We visited Sister's on the Bellarine for a barbeque lunch. We dined together at Gentleman George across the road, at Gourmet Curry Hut and at Rosco's at the old Chevron Hotel. 

They visited the Grand Prix on three days of the event. They wandered the city and St Kilda. They caught trains, trams and walked. without help from me aside from giving them a Myki card each with one day's public transport credit. We visited the Dandenong Ranges on the Labour Day public holiday, firstly visiting Mount Dandenong, having some tucker then driving on to Grant's Picnic Ground, where we could surreptitiously and illegally feed some birds with seed, but  we could not find a parking space. The best laid plans...

I had a thought, and we journeyed on to Belgrave. Ray's nephew is an excellent driver, and he did all the driving while he was here. We arrived at Belgrave and for the life of me, we could not find parking at the Puffing Billy Railway Station. Later I think I worked out that you use the suburban train car park, I think. We eventually squeezed the car into a space and illegally walked across the railway line. 

There was a train full of people and ready to depart but it didn't have an engine. But we had seen an engine being loaded with coal.

View of Melbourne from Mount Dandenong. Exciting, not.

There is more than one dangerous tree, so an apostrophe must be inserted.

Mustang!

The train reverses in to collect its cars full of passengers.

Ready to depart.

I thought it was quite a feat of the platform staff to walk upside down on the platform.

Puffing Billy sets off, full of happy and waving people. I was waving to them too.

They departed Melbourne to journey on to Bali for a few days, and then via Dubai, they were home and ready for work on the Monday. Don't ask me how they went via Dubai. I have no idea. 

Bits

I visited the car repair shop today. Photos were taken and I will be called with a quote for repair. The business was personally recommended to me by two different people. Because I live in the inner city, I know the price will be higher than if I was in outer suburb. 

An electric notice went up in the lift, wishing all a Happy Labor Day, or is Labour Day? I didn't see how the lift lighting killed the photo, but I can assure you, the top says Labor and the bottom says Labour. Australia has a bob each way with this. Our Labor Party represents the labour movement, for workers rights and care for the less fortunate in society. Most good public policies such as our public health system, decent conditions for workers and social security has come from the Labor Party.

Our misnamed Liberal Party is socially very conservative, anti worker, anti union, anti gay, anti trans pro big business profits and eff the less the fortunate in society. Historically it is pro immigration of labourers to work for peanuts and break down Australian workers' rights. 

Ah well, off on a tangent I went. The Labor Party  has used the spelling since the early 20th century, in a time when both spellings were acceptable. There was some influence from American unions at the time, but I put the alternative spelling down to be wanting to seem progressive with the new world of the Americas, rather than old Mother Britain.

I've just checked and the public holiday is spelt Labour Day. 

Bone Doctor, sister's wife, will arrive here at 11.30 tonight from Queensland where she attended the funeral of her 101 year old grandmother. I will be asleep and I meant to leave a dram of scotch in the bottle to help her sleep after such a big day. Alas, I finished the bottle. There's some port on the drinks trolley, and one medium strength beer in the fridge. We'll probably have breakfast out in the morning. 

Phyllis is working a cleaning job. The job is not bad, but a long way away and the dust is affecting him. He is wearing a mask now. Today the first job was to clean a massive modern two storey house in the outer northern suburbs and the team called the boss. It was in such a disgusting and cluttered state, they could not do the job, and it wasn't.

Sunday was lovely, with a birthday party for Oldest Great Niece who has turned twelve. So Fun60, your granddaughter must be 12 too. Or do I have the terribly wrong. 

Much sympathy to River whose cat Lola has died.

A snip of an exchange between me and neighbour HH.

Hi H. Is it just me? Two consecutive weeks of aggressive looking white football players in the lift display, and this week a very aggressive photo display of Jimmy Barnes who is performing in Melbourne. Do residents want to see photos of aggressive looking men in the lift? Maybe it is just me.

She replied and had not really noticed what I observed, but she understood my point. I remember this from the time many years ago.

Your thoughts remind me of some years ago when I had to make an official complaint about men travelling in the lift from the pool without tops on, I didn’t want to see that either.

I replied, 

I appreciate your point about topless men in the lift, but I rather liked seeing them 😛

She replied with hands over eyes emoji. 

It's raining, a nice soft steady rain, not like the floods in northern Australia. As we southern Australians always say, 'we need the rain'.