It's a lavvy lovie

This post is utterly screwed, but I think the historical aspect of it deserves some viewing. It was written in June, and I don't know why it is so messy. I don't have the stamina to fix it. Publish and be damned. 

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Update: Kosov says he needs to use the restroom. I reply, enjoy your rest, Kosov. He will spend half an hour in the rest room, with a bucket of water. I don't know what happens but he never smells bad. Phyllis does the same. They only shower about every third day. 

Toilets, private or public is easy to understand. Bathroom where there isn't a bath, washroom where you can't actually wash yourself or wash your clothes is a bit strange. We all use toilets whether they are separate little room or in a bathroom. I remember hearing from a Canadian who was confused about bathroom and ended up in a hotel utility areas with a number of washing machines and clothes dryers. 

A public toilet in a town where I spent a couple of years in my youth was known as a Comfort Station. There was nothing comfortable about in the male part at least. It was disgusting.

In Melbourne's early days there weren't public toilets and women had to plan a visit to the city very carefully in case they needed to go. 

Warracknabeal is probably best known for a train running down its main street. I am not sure if this happens anywhere else in Australia. 

This is a nice story about Warracknabeal's Ladies' Rest Room.  

One hundred years ago in the western Victorian town of Warracknabeal, families would come to town from local farms to do their shopping.

The men would buy provisions, then head to the pub to drink with mates and use the toilet.

The Warracknabeal Ladies Rest Rooms Committee president Eileen Sholl says the restrooms are a treasured community centre – not just toilets.CREDIT:JASON SOUTH

But their wives, had literally nowhere to “go”, with no public toilets for women. They were not welcome in pubs.

And so, a committee of women from Warracknabeal and hamlets all around, from Brim to Beulah and Bangerang, raised a whopping 680 pounds to build the stately brick Warracknabeal Ladies’ Rest Rooms.

It was opened in 1928 on the main drag called Scott Street. Ninety-five years later, it is still volunteer-run, and is much more than its three loos out the back.

Inside, there are two cosy sitting rooms, with dark wooden wall partitions and high ceilings, ornate sideboards, comfy chairs, sofas and even a portrait of a young Queen Elizabeth II over the fireplace.

Women relax by the fireplace in 1976.CREDIT:JASON SOUTH

There are lemons in a bowl, homemade preserves to buy and toys for children. There’s a baby change room, and a kitchen where an untold number of cuppas have been made.

“When you walk in, it does feel like it’s your grandma’s house, always immaculate and so well-kept,” says Shire of Yarriambiack mayor Kylie Zanker.

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Zanker, a Warracknabeal resident, is pleased that the restrooms have been recommended for listing on the Victorian Heritage Register.

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A report compiled by Heritage Victoria and submitted to the Victorian Heritage Council recommends that the building be recognised for its cultural and heritage significance to the state of Victoria.

“It’s an amazing piece of history, an iconic part of our town,” Zanker said. “We all love the restrooms. I’ve never heard anyone say they’ll not go there.”

“It’s a social meeting place. I have friends who live on farms and their teenage kids will sit in there with their iPads or read books. It hasn’t lost that attraction, to everybody in the community.”

The report says during the 1920s and ’30s, perhaps over 200 women’s restrooms were set up across Australia, of which very few survive.

Then, as now, Warracknabeal’s version is run by volunteers, who pop in to tidy up and chat to visitors. It’s funded by raffles, cake stalls, over 90 locals who pay an annual subscription of $10 each, and by visitors’ $2 gold coin donations.

Members of the Warracknabeal Ladies’ Rest Rooms Committee: Wendy Lovel, Val Wardle, Eileen Sholl and Rhonda Glare.CREDIT:JASON SOUTH

From the start, men were not allowed in. A historic sign on the wall says: “boys admitted up to age of six years”.

The restrooms are still used mostly by women – except on Easter Saturdays after the town’s annual parade, when men join the long queues for the volunteers’ famous scones with jam and cream.

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Eileen Sholl, president of the Warracknabeal Ladies’ Rest Rooms committee, says that in 2023, it’s sometimes the dad who changes baby’s nappy in the restrooms, while mum goes shopping.

“I’m sure the founding ladies would be horrified that the men can come in and use the changing room,” she said. “It’s a revolutionary change.”

The centre has visitors’ books dating back 95 years. The 2023 visitors’ comments rave about the place.

“So nice to have a warm, comfortable place for baby, to change and feed,” write Chris and May, of Rainbow.

Lauren, from Maldon, says: “My favourite ladies’ restroom in the world. I go out of my way to visit Warracknabeal because of it.”

Lisa, of Kangaroo Ground, simply says: “The most memorable wee I’ve had.”

The restrooms boast baby change areas, a lounge, a garden, a meeting area and visitor books going back 95 years.CREDIT:JASON SOUTH

Sholl, originally from Canada, said the charming building helped her decide to settle in Warracknabeal eight years ago, after her husband, Uniting Church minister Walter Sholl, retired from full-time ministry.

“I thought the restrooms [were] so beautiful and unique. It’s a special place,” Sholl said. “I wanted to get involved in the restrooms to contribute, and meet people.”

The Warracknabeal Ladies Rest Rooms have provided a haven for travellers and locals alike for generations.CREDIT:JASON SOUTH

The heritage council is expected to decide on the heritage register listing in October. Submissions can be made in the next five weeks at heritagecouncil.vic.gov.au.

Feline Friday

I won't be posting a Feline Friday every week but as Jass is still quite new to us, her progress may be interesting to you. 

She has had the halter on and although it doesn't worry her, she doesn't like the process of having it put on. She hasn't been outside, unless it has been after I've gone to bed. She continues to settle in and is more and more relaxed. She does not like the vacuum cleaner. Even without the stick attached and the unit turned off, she gives the head a good hiss. But as long as she is not on the floor, we can still vacuum and she doesn't move. 

Last week I bought an assortment of toys and she has been playing with them. Her favourite is a life sized soft mouse, which she tortures as she would a real mouse. She chases a ball, and then stands over it. She has occasional zoomies. I told the lads to not overuse the laser pointer I bought, but of course they did, so she lost interest in chasing the red dot. Boy, did she have initial fun with it though. Maybe after a break, it will again have some appeal to her.

All in all, she has adjusted well. She hasn't visibly put on weight, and I keep meaning to check, but she eats well enough, which she wasn't initially. 

A most unlady like pose. 

See that looseish piece of leather hanging at the back of the chair. I saw she moved it accidently while she was running around. I wondered if she had noticed it.

Sure enough. Soon after she stuck her head in the cavity. Not too long after she decided under the chair was going to be a good place to quietly repose. As long as no one sits in the chair and operates the footrest or reclines, all will be well. Actually, the mechanism on that chair is broken. I will be replacing the two chairs probably in November. 

Scandals

It is remarkable how similar the English Post Office scandal is to our own Robodebt scandal.

I've just watched the first of a series of a tv programme The People versus Robodebt. It is probably geoblocked if you are a foreign type. As I understand it our social welfare government department, Centrelink, took payment beneficiary information from the tax department of annual income, whereas Centrelink payments are based on fortnightly income. 

In both situations, it soon became apparent that there were issues. The Murdoch media in both England and Australia both ignored it, both supporters of the conservative governments of the time. It was left to other media to tell the story in Australia, as pure logical information came spewing out. Yet, no one acted. The government buried its head in the sand, only occasionally popping up to say welfare cheating was wrong and it was committed to stop it.

Some media kept fighting, along with advocates for social security recipients, legal people, and those within the system, who would bob their heads up, to have them quickly cut down by their seniors.

Even now with hindsight, like the Post Office scandal, it is hard to understand how long it went on when it was clearly wrong. In both cases, there were suicides by some of those affected. Houses were lost, marriages and partnerships broke. 

I am angry that I didn't do more. I am angry that our media didn't do more. I am angry that our common garden variety politicians didn't act. I am most of all angry with then Prime Minister Scott Morrison's conservative government. 

And in another parallel, no one has had their head chopped off, and someone's damned well should have been severely punished, in both cases. 

Let's see what happens with extraordinary Grenfell Tower inquiry, still ongoing eight years after 70 odd people died in the fire, in one of the most important and richest cities in the world, one that couldn't provide people with basic building fire protection. 

The entourages

JB mentioned about 29 car motorcade used by the couch fucking eyeliner wearing Vice President of the United States, J.D. Vance when he holidayed in England's Cotswolds. The rather well to do local residents were not impressed by the restrictions placed on them.

I expect #47's motorcade is even bigger.

From a quick check, the English PM's motorcade and the Royals' is quite a bit less.

What about our PM? 

PM Albanese travels in an armoured Series 7 BMW, a slightly later model than this 2017 model. 

It is surprisingly hard to find out what our PM's motorcade is but from what I can find out, it could be a couple of  local police cars to clear the way, followed by a Federal Police escort car, with a couple of local police motorcycle outriders, and trailed by another similar BMW.

For other politicians, their cars come from the Commonwealth Car Pool. Their cars will be appropriate to their security risk and their needs. 

For high profile politicians when on official walks, they may have two or three discreet bodyguards, but I suspect there are more surveilling. 

I doubt our Governor General, the King's representative in the Commonwealth of Australia (fact checking needed) is at much risk, and for their official duties, they have a 1970 Rolls Royce Phantom VI, with a number plate featuring the Tudor Crown. Otherwise they get a car from the Commonwealth car pool. The GG would have minimal security.

Shouldn't our PM be riding in this car above?

Then there are the six state Governors, also representatives of Kingie Charlie. Their cars have a number plate featuring the crown of St George. I would guess all state governors would have cars like Victoria's governor. I wouldn't mind a ride around in Governor Margaret Gardner's car, a 1976 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow.

Alas, it is rarely used and for official duties, as she travels around in State Government car pool Series 7 BMW. For official duties, there will be a police escort, but mostly not otherwise. Our state governors are probably at no more security risk than any other Australian. 

Realising you are a dinosaur

With the company of two young men, I am reminded daily that I am a dinosaur. Not intentionally, but it is obvious. I am not so old that I don't enjoy hearing Phyllis sing along in his bathroom to Dupa Lipa's Training Season. Whatever happens in the future, I will always associate the song with Phyllis. 

My step sister, who I chatted to at the funeral yesterday, has brought up her twin granddaughters and at the age of 14, they love playing soccer. 

Step Sister to them: Have you seen the film Bend it like Beckham? 

Them: No Gran. What is Beckham?

Step Sister: The soccer player. David Beckham, of course.

Them: Never heard of him.

I would guess if further questioned, they would not know who the Spice Girls are either.

I feel sorry for the soccer younguns who never experienced the rise and never fallen Beckham. 

Funerearal Day

I forgot until 6pm yesterday that I've been asked to speak at the funeral for my step mother today. So I've been speech writing and I have no time to compose a blog post. I will polish my speech over this evening and in the morning. I've just noticed a grammatical clanger in the first sentence. 

Sister is picking up me and then my brother on the way. We'll stop off somewhere for some sustenance. It will be such a long day for my sister, 1.40 to get here, and then 1.40 to get where the funeral will be held. I'll offer to drive for part of the trip. 

Mum, 2023

Ray. 2024

Step mother, 2025.

Hels, it may interest you that both my mother and step mother had the same first name, the first name of your mother. 

The Funny Farm

No, actually Funky Farm.

My former Tradie Brother, now working in a caring position, had two tenants, one in the self contained granny flat at the back of house and another who had a bedroom in the house. The latter, Keiran, died suddenly in his bed. My brother found him the next morning, very dead, at the age of 62. Brother was shattered. For him it was nearly like losing a partner. We all knew Keiran, and he helped out at family events, but always stayed in the background.

He left his superannuation to my brother. Kieran's ex wife disputed the will, and was paid I think $10,000 'fuck off' money. Separately Kieran stipulated that a certain percentage of funds from his estate was to go to animal charities. My brother has distributed the money, and an amount went to Funky Farm. The owner said, Mate; come any time for one year and bring along your family. 

You have to book and I was invited, along with my other brother, who forgot and was a no show, Hippie Niece, her partner and their four children. My brother had already taken two other family groups.

It was one hour's drive away and I left home at 8.30 Sunday morning past. I planned to stop off on the way and eat one of my meals on wheels sandwiches and find coffee. There was no where along the way to stop for coffee and to relax, so I was a bit early at the venue. Brother arrived soon after with Dog in tow. Then at the last minute, but they made it, so did Hippie Niece and her crew. 

My arthritic pain was at its worst, as it usually is in the morning, but nevertheless, I really enjoyed the guided tour that lasted about 1.40. 

Mein host and guide is a former horse jockey. The history of the park, his connection with horses, and the early history when there was and still is a focus on people with disabilities can be found on the website I linked to above. I learnt a bit I didn't know about wombats. Most of the animals and birds have come from zoos and people who no longer wanted troublesome pets. 

This doesn't look like a dingo I know about, but apparently it is an alpine dingo, with thick fur to keep it warm. I learnt that there is little connection between dingos and dogs. They are physically very different and the dingo more closely related to the Asian wolf. Quite fascinating. 

This is closer to the dingo I know, but it has a long coat too.

A young freshwater crocodile. They are much smaller than salt water crocodiles, and less aggressive, but there is not a reason to feel safe in their company. 

A rosella? 

I believe this is a horny dragon. We saw water dragons too.

Feeding a wallaby.

Kangaroos, wallabies and emu roam freely. 

The cassowary is the most dangerous bird in the world. If you come across one, flee! They are only found in the northern tropical areas of Australia.

Look at the size of its feet. They can rip you to shreds. 

This particular emu was amusing. 

A young fresh water crocodile. Many of the animals at the park are rescue animal from idiots who got drunk one night and ordered a creature to be delivered to their home, only to discover their choice was troublesome. 

A blue tongue lizard, friendly lizards. 

Maybe this is a frill necked lizard. 

After the tour I visited the nearest shopping area, Hastings, which is also a working port and a mooring for pleasure craft. I found a cafe for sustenance and bought a couple of things at the supermarket. Then I was homeward bound, arriving about 1.30.