Da Boyds

The artistic Boyd family were very famous in Melbourne from the early 1900s to the later mid 1900s. Martin Boyd was a wonderful author (read My Brother Jack), and among them were painters, poets and potters. 

The family settled in the then new suburb of Murrumbeena and owned numerous properties in Wahroongaa Crescent. I must take a walk there to see if there are any blue plaques. Generally the houses there are Californian Bungalow style, Calbungs or Cowbungs, as we call them.

I travel to Murrumbeena by train fortnightly to pick up four frozen meals and we/I have for a number of years bought meals there. It is a pleasant and quick journey but somehow I'd never noticed the brick tribute to the Boyd family. I snapped away. While Melbourne Blogger Hels has referenced the Boyds many times, I can't find that she has directly written about them. 

To give some credit, this is part of Melbourne's train level crossing removal project by our state Labor government. Well done it. 

My grandmother's ash tray by Guy Boyd. The cost of an invisible repairs to the crack is about what it is worth, the last quote being about $100.

It's my money really

I became angry with myself last night for participating in a bureaucratic  process. I was a defined beneficiary of Ray's superannuation but the company would not confirm that for privacy issues. Whose? Ray is dead. I was put through the hoops of paperwork, including gathering family with someone who could sign a statutory declaration. All the company needed was proof of my identify and my bank details. 

Apparently Ray had a second superannuation account with a balance of $1000. Good, I'll have that too, thanks. 

Superannuation company said no, until you fill in more paperwork. It will be a repeat of what I've already done. The company has all the information. I am refusing to comply and sometimes a late night less formal email can work, and that is what I am going to do now. Publish and be damned.  

A farm causes me hearing loss

I took many personal photos but not too many of the critters at Myuna Farm. We have been there before but not for many years. Last Saturday there was an incomplete family gathering for no real reason other than a day out during school holidays. The arranged meeting time was ten, a little earlier than I would like but it was only a thirty five minute drive away. 

The staff were negligent as both of my brothers walked through without paying. I was not pleased that my brothers did not front up to pay. My nephews paid for a family ticket plus, so perhaps they thought that included them. Well, that's the best face I can put on it. 

It was good to see family, especially the two year twin boys and their four year old sister.

There were many animals to see and the kiddies and some adults went on a train ride, actually a tractor pulling trailers, through the park and then later a short pony ride. One great nephew twin was eager and loved his pony ride. The other did not want to and took no interest. They are just so different. 

While they were away, I fed a gentle llama and fed a goat, who tried to rip the paper bag from my hand. Ex Sis in Law said one goat was trying to eat her clothing top. It's not like they would be hungry. 

ABI Brother disappeared early as he had won a free pub counter lunch in a raffle. I did not stay to the end as my arthritic neck pain was so bad, as it is if I am standing around or slow walking in the morning. It was so bad I just has to find a seat with a backrest to sit for five minutes, and I did. 

Everything seemed normal once home. I can't remember what I did for the rest of the day. Come Sunday morning, it was time to change the clocks for the start of daylight saving, three bedroom clocks, microwave, oven, weather station, mantle clock and wall clock. 

Every Sunday I put new batteries into my hearing aids. As I went to do so, I realised my right ear one was not around, totally missing. I thought it might turn up in some obscure place, but it hasn't. I called the farm and no one had handed one in, but they said they would call me if it turned up. I really don't have a clue where I lost it. 

The aids are supplied by Workcover, as I was judged to have some hearing loss due to excessive noise at work, so I won't have to pay for a replacement, but in my ears rang what the audiologist told me. Please never lose one hearing aid. Things always work out better if you lose both hearing aids, so I have a rehearsed story about how on the farm I took the aids off because of noisy children, put them in my pocket and they must have fallen out on the train/tractor ride, that I did not take. My replacement hearing aids will cost Workcover maybe $1,500 dollars, yet I make a moral judgement about my brothers avoiding paying a $25 entrance fee. Mind, I have been very careful with my hearing aids and I can't work out how I lost one, but as I have, I am entitled to a replacement. 

Here are a few animal photos I took. This fowl had feathered feet. Watching it walk around was quite amusing. I'm sure one of you will know what kind of chook it is without having to look it up.

Llama took the food so gently from hands unlike the goats.

I think this is great nephew Lucas mounted on a pony.

This would be the cousin of Lucas, great nephew Louie, who found the pony fascinating after his ride.

Ray would have been exhausted by such a gathering, as I pretty well was. Speaking of Ray, and it has been a while since I have cracked up, but tears ran down my cheeks as I sat today having coffee outside Leo's Spaghetti Bar in Fitzroy Street, St Kilda. I was overwhelmed with memories which I try to push away, but almost everywhere I go, Ray was with me. We dined there for a romantic meal shortly after we met in 1979. 

The home front

Finally I've sorted out the spare bedroom bookcase. The carpet layers chucked the books back into the case willy nilly. It is not as perfect as it was, but it will do. The bookcase is full of treasured books, that I will never look at again. There is one full shelf full of cookbooks and scrap books of newspaper clipped recipes. These will not be part of Swedish Death Cleaning. If Ray needed a recipe in the last few years, he would find it online and prop up his tablet on the raised benchtop. 

I found this tin full of mostly five cent coins that Ray had clearly thrown coins into, but a few of higher denomination. I worked out a quiz for Phyllis and Kosov. Whoever guesses closest to the dollar value in the tin can have the money. My generosity knows no bounds.

They were enthusiastic and competitive about it, but did not follow up. My bank's ponderous coin counting machine eventually saw $25 deposited into my account. Well, if neither of the lads are interested, I will just keep the $25 to myself. Their loss.

Phyllis has added two more cars to his collection and all now sit elsewhere on the shelving unit.

I don't know why 'Vanilla Bean' sits on my electronic kitchen scales next to my bowl of cocktail tomatoes, but it is what it is. I've grown fond of Vanilla Bean.

Hmm, a bottle of rose has been brought into the house, not a drink for me, unless it is all that is left. 

I don't know why Philip's obviously very old Tamil script bible (I can't find the photo I took) is sitting on the bed in the spare room, but there is much I don't know about that happens in my home. Things move around. 

The salt and pepper grinders lived on the left hand side of the the spice cupboard above the range hood for 22 years until they were moved to the right in the Phyllis and Kosov great cupboard clean out of September, and every time I opened the left hand cupboard, they were behind right hand cupboard. I explained this to Phyllis and moved them back to the left hand side. 

My occasionally used jar of Vegemite is not longer in a prominent place at the front of the cupboard but pushed to the back. It took me ages to find my Queen's Jubilee tea canister to make Bone Doctor a tea bag cuppa. 

Phyllis and Kosov constantly chat and bicker away in Tamil like an old married couple in a manner that Ray and I never chatted. At times they speak in English. But within their constant rapid Tamil chat, there is the inserted English phrase "You mot...ker". Hear it once, ok. But it is repeated often. It isn't a pet name I am used to, though I do remember the endearment, 'bitch face'. I find it quite amusing. Tamil, Tamil, Tamil, you stupid mot..ker, Tamil, Tamil,Tamil, you stupid mot..ker. Better than the c word I suppose. On and on it goes. 

Well, that is young folk and I am not.

Oh no! Not an Allen key.

To put it frankly, my desk chair is buggered. It has only lasted a few year. It had a weight limit of 100kg and Ray at around 90kg and dropping down into the chair probably did some damage. The desk chair that proceeded it was high quality and lasted around 25 years. 

While my furniture may be old and dated, it is all in a good condition. I have looked but I can't find anything that would be a good replacement. I did really need to do something about the disintegrating chair. 

I had done some online and physical visiting to inspect chairs. I made a decision, for better or worse. A nice young man carried the chair to my car and helped me load it, and the new mat. Balanced on top, I used the shopping jeep to get it up from our garage, and then disassembled all the packages. 

I was getting worried as I had not seen any instructions for assembly, but here they were in the last part I unpacked. The instructions were very clear and the only hard part was the final step, putting the back in place. Advice would be, keep the seat screws loose so you have some give when getting the back into the correct place to be screwed in. 

My new Stirling chair is very comfortable and with an eight year warranty, I am sure it will give sterling service for many years. The instructions advised me to check in one month's time for a loose screw. No one wants a loose screw. 

Phyllis tried the new chair and then the old one and proclaimed he preferred the old one. Dipshit! While within a week when I am about to become an old age pensioner (birthday gifts are welcome if they are shockingly expensive), I am pleased I can still do an Allen key assembly. I kinda missed the arguing that used to happen when Ray and I used to assemble something. 

Monday Mural

 

Sunday Selections

Nothing too fascinating this Sunday as I join Elephant's Child, River and others for Sunday Selections.

A plaque on a city footpath dated 2018, but apparently Melbourne has been a sister to city of Osaka since 1978. That's nice, but what is the benefit of the connection?

A couple of old Yank Tanks in Acland Street, St Kilda. I can recognise a sixty year old Mustang as readily as a brand new one.

I've no idea about this car but I am sure the bicycle bracket wasn't original equipment. Dodge? De Soto? Hudson? 

Gillie and Marc have made their mark all over the world with their marvellous sculptures. I love them. 

Lost and found. from Swedish Death Cleaning, I found my mug from Mister Donut in Hirosake, Japan. It had yummy food, not just doughnuts.

This did amuse me when I recently visited ACMI. 

For a moment I thought this was view of lake outside an English pub where we lunched. Reality hit, as I waited for my medical appointment.

I am assured this photo has not been played with and it is a true view with a normal camera lens. The roads do look a bit tricky.