Cat hunting and catching a train

Phyllis went out sometime around midnight last night to 'escort' Kosov home. I was in bed at 11 and I didn't hear him leave. He said the bus didn't turn up, I expect he was late and missed it, so came back home, to Jass created havoc. He told me this morning she had knocked down a sword from their bedroom window ledge and a plate on the lounge room shelves, and when he returned she was sitting on top of  the fridge, which I've never see her do. 

What I noticed when I got up, were small clumps of her fur all over the place, evidence that she had been running around, and her being nervous. It wasn't a little fur, it was a lot. 

I do remember that when I got up in the morning, the balcony door was slightly open, not enough for her to get out. It is too heavy for her to move, but my guess is an insect or more than one came in and she had being in pursuit, and she had been very excited. She hid for most of the day under the lounge chair. 

The new mayor of New York City is very pro public transport, yet flew to meet #47 in Washington DC, when the train trip is only three hours, zooming along at 255/160. How disappointing. What could have a been a positive media story for him, was not. 

Later: My guess was correct. Jass had been chasing a bug. I don't know why he didn't tell me in the first place. There was an insect wing sticking out of her poo the next morning. 

Sydney Summary

I enjoyed my visit to Sydney, but of course I was pleased to get home. Sydney is quite some city and it should be all tourists' prime destination. Many Sydney visitors won't be used to using public transport, but it is truly the best way to get around the city. I didn't need a cab or an Uber once. As a card carrying Senior, the daily cap of $2.50 to use trains, trams, buses and ferries is a bargain. For full fare payers, the daily cap is $20 Monday to Thursday and $10, Friday to Sunday (AI generated, check yourself). 

But, was it a good idea to visit a city I know so well, stay in the same place and do much the same as what Ray and I used to do? I don't really think it was. Cathy picked up on something I must have said, and yes, since I returned, I've felt somewhat fragile and emotional. At times I feel overwhelmed with sadness, but it is brief and I just get on with my life. Forty five years is a long time to spend with someone, and then they are suddenly no longer there. In a way, it was like a reason for being was taken away. I suddenly had no obligations or responsibilities beyond my own needs. 

Here is some advice for helping people who are grieving. Yes, by all means be there for them in the immediate period afterwards, but 3 months later, 6 months later, 1 year later, 2 years later, ask them how they are doing with a direct reference to whoever has died. I would have liked that, but no one has done so with me.

Some of you have been through this already, and could add to what I've written, and some of you will go through this. You will have a lot of administration to do, and just get on with it. Getting angry with idiotic bureaucratic processes passes the time. Socialise as best you can. But most of all let your eyes water. It your party and you can cry if you want to. Crying and deep sobbing is nature's way of dealing with grief. 

When you post nearly daily, you select a time to post, and my blog posts are normally scheduled at 5.00am EAST, a time I judged to suit the early rising late Sue. 

A scandalous building disaster

I remember when this building was constructed and I didn't like it much. The developer breached the height limit by over one metre above what was shown in the plans and was fined a small amount with the appropriate government minister Robert McClelland quite untroubled. He was a  shocker of old school arrogant conservative politician. Shame on him, and he is still alive at the age of 91.This was at the time when evil Victorian Premier Kennet in the 1990s had privatised building inspectors roles, and it was signed off as ok, even though it clearly wasn't.

It is in a very dominant location at the corner of Commercial Road and Punt Road, South Yarra, and is called South Yarra Square.

I don't know of any other similar building in greater Melbourne being as bad as this. I feel so bad for the innocent and naive who may have bought into this building, and the original buyers. The apartments are clearly unsaleable, with them being only good for tenants, if tenants don't mind the fire risk and the risk of building collapse. The next time you hear anything about deregulation of  building inspections, be afraid.

From the blog of Rohan Storey.

My photos, taken very quickly between trams.

Phyllis!!!

The lads weren't working today. They had booked a ticket on a free bus to Chadstone Shopping Centre,  the largest in the Southern Hemisphere. They got up to late and missed the bus and so took a cab to meet up with Kosov's workmates to see a film at Chadstone. 

At home after going out in the car for shopping, I became increasingly cross. They had left the large bag full of recycling to be taken to the bin room sitting on the floor, two drink bottles and a pretty looking labelled empty wine bottle, a large package of various dried foods, nail polish remover and a cotton ball. I pushed it all into a corner. The kitchen floor had not been mopped since I returned from Sydney. The less used bench areas felt greasy. 

They had left at 9.00am and didn't return until after 8.00pm. I stewed about the state of the kitchen all day. I cooked myself a steak for dinner and had a nice supermarket beetroot and fetta salad, just adding some cocktail tomatoes. 

Once they were home, I told Phyllis I wasn't feeling very huggy when he tried to hug me, and I then went through the list of why I wasn't in regard to the kitchen. Within 15 minutes, the clutter had disappeared, the recycling was taken down and the floor mopped.

Their bedroom is a disaster. When you start storing things on the floor and not in cupboards or wardrobes, you are on a downhill slope. But their bedroom is their private space. The kitchen is a shared space that I use, at least to pour milk onto my breakfast cereal. 

Kosov's parents sent him a package, which turned out to be an 8kg box, that I carried upstairs from the mailroom, containing three pair of sneaker type shoes, some homemade vegetable pickle, and a cat house for Jass. Obviously at 8kg, there was some other stuffs too. Jass likes her cat house. 

Sydney and Homeward Bound

I hadn't been to Coogee during my visit, so on the day my overnight sleeper train was to depart, I caught the 373 bus to Coogee, and it was a splendid day, with it being quite busy at the beach. I bought some lunch and sat around for a good while passing people entertained me. Why aren't all these people at work, I so often think.

Rather than go straight back to my hotel, I caught the 370 bus to Randwick and the L2 tram back to the city, and walked back from the Town Hall stop.

I slowly packed my things. Why, with nothing more than I brought, doesn't everything fit back into a case like it did when I initially packed! I then took a second shower for the day, a very leisurely shower, even though there are showers on the train, they are awkward.

My train departure time was about 8.40pm, with hotel checkout time arranged for 6.00pm. I went down to the Thai restaurant below, and consumed a large bowl of seafood tom yum, with a couple of fish cakes on the side. The train has a buffet for light food, but an evening meal is not included with the travel. With me was half a sandwich as a snack and there would be a light breakfast delivered in the morning. 

I prefer Coogee to the famous Bondi, with the bus stop closer to the beach, less crowded, especially on the bus, and there is good seating for 'those who need them', like me. 

With my case in the correct place on the bus, it was a quick trip down to Central, where my train was waiting, although I couldn't board immediately as the cleaners hadn't finished. 

Central was looking grand in the evening light. The information said to arrive half an hour before departure time. I was there in good time but certainly not the ridiculous half an hour. All you do is step on to the train. That doesn't take half an hour. My ticket was never checked at any point. 

The train is old, built in 1982 and replacements have been ordered and are arriving, but it is not yet known if there will be a sleeper car. Given it is often booked out, that would be a terrible mistake, in my view. But, perhaps I should wait until I had made this trip before deciding on that.

If the train looks familiar to people in England, it is based on the old InterCity 125, which can travel at 125mph/200km/h. The train was modified for Australian conditions, better air conditioning, with lower gearing to climb the steep slopes of the Southern Tableland, so it can't travel at 200km/h, but regardless, it is limited to 160km/h.

It has of course been renovated since 1982 and first appearances pleased my eyes.

It had one powerpoint for the use of cleaners. There was a warning that it could possibly fry any device plugged into the socket. One light switch was for the main lighting, and the other for a night light.

This flimsy table lifted out and and an extension was dropped into this socket. It swung about quite a bit with the train movement and was kind of annoying, however with its lip at the edge it was probably a safer place to put drink than where I used, resulting in a minor catastrophe. 

I would describe the train as somewhat old world stylish. I think the carriages were very well made. 

The man in the next room to me was also a sole occupant of a double cabin. He was blind. with his seeing eye dog accompanying him. I heard the staff escorting him off and back onto the train at a station for no doubt a call of nature for the dog. 

The cost of the trip was more than flying, but what price can you put on comfort with little stress. The fare was calculated by buying a first class ticket, then an add on for the sleeper, and in my case that was double because I bought the upper bunk for Ray as he expressed he would have liked to use the train, and then a pensioner discount was applied. Last year after we took the day train to Sydney, Ray wanted to return by sleeper train. I said no, as he had complained about the day train on the way up and we would have lost our already paid airfares back. I really wish I hadn't said no. He always slept well and he would have enjoyed the trip. At times I don't like myself for being so sensible and cautious. Had I only have known what would happen the following month.

So, the drink catastrophe; I bought two glasses of red wine from the bar and took them back to my room, one for my aforementioned companion. I drank the first one and put the second one on  the window ledge, where it sat quite happily for quite some time. The window ledge seemed safer than the moving table, but it wasn't. Staff knocked and turned my seating into a very comfortable bed. I then against the regulations, took a bottle of scotch from my suitcase and poured a large glass and then sat that on the window ledge. The train was very quiet and smooth, and the two glasses didn't move on the ledge, until they did. The train lurched and down fell the red wine, thankfully landing on a towel on the floor. Before I could grab it, then my scotch fell down too, also onto the towel. There would no hiding the smell from staff but hopefully they would just think it was wine. I poured another glass of scotch, then staff knocked again to take the breakfast order. I put my scotch into a cupboard before opening the door, and staff noticed the spillage, took the towel away and brought me a fresh one. 

Phone reception is very patchy, so I had downloaded something to watch on my tablet as I ate my half sandwich and half a packet of potato chips (crisps) I'd bought ten days earlier. Whatever chemical was in them, had kept them crisp. 

I shared a bathroom with the blind man. I hoped his aim was good in spite of his vision. A drop down sink and toilet, with a shower, which I didn't use. I had showered a few hours before I boarded and would do so once I was home.

I went to sleep just after 11 and slept very well. As I discovered when we caught the day train to Adelaide some years ago, Victorian train tracks are rougher than those in both South Australia and New South Wales. I think I half woke to some rough Victorian tracks once over the state border, but no big deal.

I can't remember what time I woke but I saw Seymour Station and a VLine country train. Breakfast was delivered some time after 6.00.  

The train arrived on time into Melbourne Southern Cross at about 8.00am and with a feeling of being in an unreal situation, I walked to William Street, my case in tow and my backpack over my shoulder, along with office workers going to work, and caught the 58 tram home. No stress. I am in Melbourne where I know my way around and how things work, so no concentration was required. Jass cautiously greeted me at the door, and after I showered, Phyllis and Kosov woke to give me a welcome home hug. 

Would I do it again, oh yes. While the fare does cost, I didn't have the cost of transport to Sydney airport, around $20 by usurious airport gate pricing, nor the cost from Melbourne airport to home by cab, around $80. I did have to pay a bit extra for the late hotel checkout, and if I travelled from Melbourne to Sydney, an early hotel check in, so maybe it is around the same.  

I will write a brief summary of the whole trip in the goodness of time. 

Personal catch up

Just a bit of personal stuff. I employed a window cleaner last Tuesday, to clean the lounge room and balcony glass. Superficially, his work seemed ok, but after he left, I noticed he hadn't cleaned down the outside window sills, and the next morning with the sun on the balcony glass, the window cleaning was obviously very poor.

 I explained to him that the window tinting was old and ready to decay if not treated very gently, and so to be careful. He managed to damage the window tinting. This could have well happened if I cleaned the windows, so I am not so annoyed about that, but the basics of window cleaning should have been brilliant, and it wasn't. Window tinting now costs a fortune, but I guess I will get it done. Three windows in my apartment have already been redone. 

I'm trying to live up to Ray's mantra, shrouds don't have pockets. I've spent a lot of money since Ray died and the inheritance came through from my mother and then Ray, mostly on home improvements, and I will continue to do so. I have no one to leave money to. My siblings are fine for money. Phyllis and Kosov may get some money from me, but hey are already treated generously. 

Last Friday was my neighbour HH's 80th birthday. She said she would be away and had made a plan to catch the train to Adelaide, a city she knows reasonably well, but then decided she would stay home. In conspiracy with her son, I helped him on the day to have delivered to her a bottle of Baileys, and later flowers. Her daughter surprised her by taking her to a show about Don Lane, presented by his son P. J. Lane. After the show, she got to chat to John Michael Howson and newsreader Peter Hitchener, I think. Victorians of a certain age will remember these people. 

Thinking she may be away on the day of her birthday, two days earlier the three of us trooped downstairs to give her the gift I had bought. She showed Phyllis and Kosov around her apartment and we chatted for a bit. I gave her a notebook with the cover of local silo art, as she had taken a silo tour earlier this year, and knowing she drinks peppermint tea and lemon and ginger tea, I bought her an advent calendar that has a different tea bag for each of the 24 days. She adored it and the photo doesn't do the interior of the box justice. She said she would mount the box on her wall after she finished the teas. 

I had lunch with HH yesterday and caught up on her news. She is very social and outgoing. We walked to the lunch venue and on the way back she chatted to a postman, who I can't remember but he used to deliver to our building. They each asked other about respective families, and one day when all her dividend letters arrived and nearly filled her letter box, he called her on the intercom to tell her. There is much kindness in the building where I live, and I know people who I can trust. HH is going to feed Jass while we are away at the end of the month. 

Anyway, here are some pics of the T2 gift. It is quite large.

Sydney day whatever, 20th October

The day was my last full day, and it's is ages since I have visited Kings Cross and Potts Point, so onto the rather interesting 311 bus that begins its route at Central on the edge of the city and travels through the nearby inner east area and ends up back on the edge of the city at Millers Point. The service isn't very frequent, every thirty minutes, so if I wanted to stop off in Kings Cross, I needed to keep an eye on the timetable. 

Halloween must be approaching.

The Green Park rotunda. 

The Gay and Lesbian Holocaust Memorial on one side and on the other side, The Wall, where rentboys used to ply their trade. Maybe they still do. 

The Holiday Inn is coming down. We stayed there once and in the foyer we could hear the rumble of trains below at Kings Cross Station. The replacement; luxury apartments, naturally. 

 

Juanita Nielsen was murdered and probably ended up in the concrete foundations of a building. No one was ever charged over her disappearance and presumed murder. Wikipedia starts with this, "Juanita Joan Nielsen (née Smith; 22 April 1937 – disappeared 4 July 1975) was an Australian newspaper publisher, urban conservationist, and heiress."

If that teases your interest, you can read the article here, and the Google search takes you here. 

Her former home is the one with the bins in front.

I never tire of visiting the splendid El Alamein Fountain. It looks fab at night too.

After the bus tour of the inner east, I left the bus when it reached the centre of the city, bought a sandwich and caught a bus back to my hotel. I used Museum Station several times during my visit as it is a short walk to my hotel. It is underground but has lifts.

This in Qtopia, the GLBTIQ etc centre at Taylor Square, within an old, men's underground toilet and electric substation. I believe Qtopia is in several other premises nearby. I haven't visited as it seems to have an entrance fee, whereas Melbourne's Pride Centre doesn't.

Looking across Taylor Square to the south.

I bought a beach towel here with the Aussie Boys logo embroidered on the towel thirty years ago. I think it was a different shop location, but it was still called Aussie Boys. Thirty years later, I still have it and its condition is ok. Phyllis and Kosov are now using it as a bath towel. 

Dinner was fish, chips and salad at the Oxford Hotel. I am returning to decent eating. 

Monday Mural

I am sure Sami and others will be around for Monday Mural.

I don't like this mural very much simply because I don't think it is very good. And, I don't like the depictions. 

It screams, "I am Sydney! Look at how diverse we are in Sydney! Look at how empowered women are." If you need to shout it out loud, I don't think it is a battle won. Isn't it like stating, I live in the best country in the world? Or, this is God's own country? It's a form of jingoism, and I hate it. 

Oh, I do seem to be in a grumpy mood tonight, and I'm on a roll. Apparently if the stereotypical American tourist see black people of the Negroid race in any other country, they think of them and speak of them as Afro American, no matter that they have no American connection. Queer.

Ok, here is the mural and by the date, the photo was taken somewhere in Sydney.

A glimpse of stocking...

ABI Brother arrived by train and tram and with Phyllis at the wheel, me as driving advisor and my brother and Kosov in the back seat, we headed towards Geelong, with a stop off for nourishment at service station. 

It was to see my niece Jo perform onstage in the musical Anything Goes, the children's version. Sister told me Jo had a couple of songs to sing in the musical. She undersold her. Jo had the lead role as Reno Sweeney,  and sang many songs and she was brilliant on stage. Sister said Jo cried a bit on the way to the theatre. When asked why, she said Ray, my late partner, won't be there to see me. I minorly cracked up when Sister told me. Then later, among the various family members who were there, Hippie Niece mentioned Ray, and how he would have loved to have seen Jo as the lead in the musical. Auntie Andrew cracks up again. 

Oh my God. Jo was fantastic, shone above every other performer in the role of Reno Sweeney.

You may not know the show, but I am sure you will know some of the music.

I saw Jo performing last year at the same venue, the Belmont Secondary College. The school auditorium is good, but it is not airconditioned and the seats are awful. I can live with the latter because it is a school theatre but it is a disgrace that the venue is not air conditioned in this day and age. I am going to become an activist about this. Five years after Melbourne Boys' Grammar completed its fantastic new building no doubt with air con, another fantastic new building is being, a school subsidised by Australian taxpayers. 

Last year at Belmont Secondary, with a temperature of 38/100, sweat just rolled off us. This year at 23/74, it was uncomfortably warm and stuffy.  

If you aren't familiar with Anything Goes, I'm sure you will know the song Anything Goes, and perhaps You're the Top, I Get a Kick out of You, It's De-Lovely and Blow Gabriel Blow.

A photo that will disappear soon, taken at when the performers come out to have photos taken with friends and family. Jo even nailed an American accent. Her costumes were fabulous. This one was not her best. Most were more tight fitting and blingy. I cropped Auntie Andrew out of the photo. I said to Bone Doctor, Sister's wife, you must be so proud of your daughter. Oh yes, I am, she replied.