Repost from 2017 (I forgot about this even after this post)

 

I know nothing

When you have been with your partner for 38 years, you would think there wasn't too much you didn't know about them.

We were watching the English tv show Vera last night. The show is set in and around Newcastle in the north of England, where R hailed from. The scene was set in a pub.

R: I worked in that hotel. It was at the base of the High Level Bridge.

Me: Fascinating dearest. You've worked in so many places, it is a wonder you can remember.

R: Yes, my brother in law to be and me both worked there as we were saving to go to Butlins (a holiday camp of the most ghastly variety, but this is with hindsight) and of course that was where I met Cat Stevens. The hotel has changed........

Me: Stop! Now! What did you just say?

R: About meeting Cat Stevens?

Me: Yes, you've never told me that before?

R: Thought I had. Cat Stevens was Irish (I didn't know that) The pub was owned by an Irishman and he was a friend of Cat and he came to visit him once at the hotel and we were introduced.

Me: How come you have never told me this?

R: I thought I had. He was only semi famous then.

I used to find Cat Stevens so sexy before he became a weird religious Moslem nutter who agreed with murder of those critical of the prophet Mohammed. I am quite perplexed as to why I did not know R had met Cat Stevens.

Life happens

A couple of Sundays ago I caught a tram and then a train to Moonee Ponds Station to meet my friend Wombat in Puckle Street. We had a very pleasant lunch and then walked to the the local Court House Museum, where we saw an exhibition about the history of public transport in the locality. Naturally I found this very interesting. 

I can't believe I didn't take photos. I must have really been enjoying myself and my company. Well, I did find a mural to snap. 

I needed milk, so I caught the 59 tram to the city, alighting close to an Elizabeth Street supermarket. 

While I have no photos, it is worth noting this outing. 

In other news, HH's grandson is off to New Zealand to work in some kind of Hobbits amusement attraction. HH's daughter is going with him to help him establish himself, and asked HH to go too. But HH's son's daughter was coming to stay. It was a hard decision for HH, but she said yes. Her granddaughter can stay in her apartment alone, and I will let her into the building and give her keys.

At the age of 80, opportunities to travel overseas don't come too often but HH is doing it, although quite stressed.

Today, a month after buying Perl, she had to return to the dealership to have her nuts and bolts tightened, and any loose hanging wires tied up. I think Perl was washed too. On the way home I briefly gave her maximum acceleration, and boy does she go.

A couple of random photos. Kosov with Jass, and Jass peaking out from a shelf. Jass adores Kosov.

Away and some nostalgia

I am away again, this time with Phyllis and Kosov. HH assures me she can manage to feed Jass in our absence. 

Our weather has turned from temperatures last week of low to mid 20s/70-80 to today as I type 13/55. Isn't that just great when you are going away although it will be a few degrees warmer for the next few days.

The task of sorting things out on my computer goes on. It is quite a task when there is around thirty years of history, much of which was filed and forgotten about. I have surprised myself with odds and sods I've found floating around. 

I came across a link to a US gay guy's website I used to read way back in the nineties, and to my surprise, the website still works. It ran from 1996 until 2000. Justin would have been twenty years old then.  If you'd like to take a look,

Justin's Koool Page

He started a new site in 2001 and it continued until 2003. The final entry mentions he is 27, and is using crutches to get around. Justin would now be fifty years old. Hmm, the whiff of nostalgia is very strong.

Justin's Life

Later:  I've realised his real name is on his website, Justin Clouse. I will turn to stalker mode....that wasn't hard. He's on all the social media sites, and the only other Justin Clouse is a dead soldier. 

Castlemaine 3

After brunch I returned to my digs and a friend who lives half an hour away arrived for a catch up. In his car, we visited what I think was Blackbird Cafe for coffee and cake.Then a short distance away is the Castlemaine Botanic Gardens. 

The deciduous trees had just began to turn to their autumn colours.

Ducks in the park. What fun. 

An aerator in the water keeps oxygen levels up to prevent algae growth.

Here is an amusing story I came across today about the Castlemaine Botanic Gardens.

In 1892 there was clearly amusement in the media at the story of a ‘stout old lady’ who fell into the botanic gardens lake while drunk. She was fished out of the 8-foot deep water ‘with great difficulty,’ but was still clutching her beer bottle when she reappeared.

 

The fountain was renovated in about 2011.

A wedding had happened and within the park there was a building where they could celebrate with a reception.

There were many of these concrete tables and benches, all fenced off. Cleary something had happened but does it affect them all?

That would be Charles and Diana? No, of course not. Look at the date, 1863. More than one of you will know. Do inform me. It was Victoria's tree of the year in 2021. I think the tree is an oak.

Yes, of course it is an oak.

We walked the circumference of the park but at times sat on seats and gossiped away about all sorts of things, like two old aunties who have known each other for forty years would do.

In the foreground is a sculpture and we were impressed that a very hot young daddy let his children climb all over the sculpture without calling out, come down darling children, you might hurt yourselves. Hot young daddy even tried to climb himself, but wisdom stopped him going up too far.

Dinner was a frozen takeaway supermarket meal, quite edible after being heated in the microwave. Next, ridin' the rails. 

Castlemaine 2

In the morning I looked for a place to sit and have brunch. The former Post Office was impressive. 

I visited the tourist information centre, within a former market place building. There were quite a number of volunteers, but I did not need help. These, well I don't know what to call them, but there were quite a number of them, all very impressive.

I've no idea what this is, perhaps related to mining. 

The old station was demolished and the station clock sent to Melbourne for disposal. It was rescued by locals. The face says, Christian Lange, 99 Strand, London. 

A memorial to a long forgotten politician.

I discovered Saffs Cafe and ate brunch there, with a very welcome cup of coffee. Don't sit near the doorway at the rear of the cafe. The timber floor bounced, as I did, every time someone walked past.

On the outskirts of town was what was called a 'direction marker'.  There weren't any directions to the marker. I saw a car parked on the gravel road I was driving along and a single sign that did not point to the marker but there was a track leading into the bushland. Along the uphill path I walked for few minutes and came to this structure, built for whatever reason, then a simple rotunda.

There were two of these very odd concrete benches. 

This must be the signal marker, although there wasn't a sign indicating anything. I will guess that at some point the hill was cleared of trees so that the marker was visible from wherever. 

Next, two old aunties chatting on a bench. 

The good Christians of south eastern US

Melbourne's Burke Road stretches from Caulfield to Ivanhoe, and in the 1970s our then Prime Minister called it the longest street of bible bashing bastards in Australia. No one in the road voted for him, so he had nothing to lose by the statement. 

Step forward to the mid 2020s and many huge houses that contained a family have been demolished for pairs of upmarket townhouses, containing a downsizing elderly couple, widow or widower. This has done nothing for the shortage of housing in our country. 

While I doubt there are too many are church goers now, the residents are still wealthy and will still vote for the conservative party. It's all about the share market and their tax beneficial self managed superannuation funds.  

But for the better, the good burghers of Burke Road would have possibly supported gay marriage, are probably not anti abortion, and truth be told, many would have a social conscience, and like to see their taxes helping the less fortunate in life.

Ok, I am comparing apples to oranges, I think. But could the US bible belt with its social attitudes move on as the demographic residents of Burke Road did?

Could I add to this map the anti abortion protesters too? Is there anything else US citizens could add to this MAGA stronghold? Is this the area of Hillary's 'basket of deplorables'? 

Apologies if I stole this from you, and to whoever you stole it from.

Castlemaine 1

Unrequested by me, Phyllis had prepared the car for my journey, wiped down the exterior, vacuumed, P plates removed and filled with petrol. 

There was no point setting off early when I couldn't check into my motel room until 2pm. I left home at some time after 11 and with a break for sustenance at a truck stop, (services in England. I don't know what they are called in America) I still reached Castlemaine early. I visited the nearby supermarket for supplies, and then it was near enough to check in time.

The room was nice enough, and the aside from the tiny brown floor tiles in the bathroom, it had been updated to modern and fresh.

 

Not that I saw anyone use it, and not knowing if it was heated, the pool and spa did look rather good and well maintained. 

Celebrating the gold miners of Castlemaine, in the middle of a roundabout is this statue and the water wheel works, filling and pouring out water.

I can't remember what this was. 

Like many country towns, there are huge open storm water drains at the sides of streets.

I drove around a bit, becoming familiar with the town's layout. Up a steep hill was the Burke and Wills monument, they being two explorers who set off inland in the mid 1800s and perished during their attempt to travel Australia south to north. 

Erected by public subscription AD 1862.

The views of the town below were rather good.

I wanted to see one more thing before my late afternoon rest, and that was the Alfred Passalaqua Memorial Lookout. It was a twelve minute drive from where I was. The photo of the escarpment does not do it justice. It was quite something. I should research how it was formed, but I won't. 

With some zoom, this could be Mount Alexander in the distance. 

As you can see the gravel road is very steep. I selected manual gear option and the car held first gear down the hill. It still reached an unbraked 25km/h.

I returned to the motel for my late afternoon rest, and then had my usual pre dinner drink, and realised I couldn't legally drive to get dinner, so I walked to the supermarket and bought a bachelor's handbag. Very naughty but very nice.

Musical Monday

Thanks to Linda for reminding me of this song, and so many decades later it is still great. I am bit too young for The Beatles (take that, kapow).

I've never really taken notice of Ringo Starr which led me to check him out. Yeah, I like his looks and the last photos are of him in his eighties. Absolutely amazing. Sexiest Beatle, for sure. He had style, he had grace, Ringo gave very good face.

The song is quite brief, as were songs at that time. I have tried to train my ears to be more sophisticated about music, really listening closely to whatever I choose. The sounds quite sophisticated to me, especially for the time.

I enjoyed the rabbit hole I partly went down as I checked out Ringo. I didn't look at his Wikipedia entry or any bio.

Windows 11 update seems to have turned on autoplay a next song, which I thought I had turned off. It was nice to hear too. Go on. Wallow in some nostalgia with Mary. 

Sadly I also knew this next to play one too, Mouldy Old Dough. The seventies were a crazy musical time.

YouTube's algorithm that curates my music feeds has kept me up very late at night in the past. Grand Designs, England, with its superior being Kevin is about to appear on my tv screen. I might just have an evening of music.