A fine birfdy

It was not a significant birthday, but one people might make jokes about. I was told not to plan anything for the day by Phyllis and Kosov, so I didn't. I did go out earlyish for coffee and to collect some medications before they arose, and for the rest of the day I relaxed.

HH had left me a gift on the doorstep, a terrific little guide book about the laneways of Melbourne.

The lads went into town and returned with gifts for me aplenty.

An Italian sauvignon blanc from Calabria, with a French accent over its name. I was so excited! Alas, I noticed the name Marlborough. It is from New Zealand, but that is ok.    

My preferred brand of scotch. 

Chocolate cake. We took a large slice down to HH, and stayed half an hour chatting. 

And flowers.

Be ready to go out at 6.15, they told me. We caught a tram to town, and then another to Brunswick Street, Fitzroy. Phyllis made us wait on the street as he had confused a twenty four hour clock with a twelve hour clock and booked us for 17.00 (5pm) rather than 7pm. Up we travelled in the lift. 

Oh wow, a rooftop bar.

It was cool, so the overhead heating was welcome. 

I featured this mural in the past, but I didn't notice the ghost sign above. I need to decipher the sign.

Looking down on another rooftop bar at what may have once been called The Bullring.

Slightly challenging but what a cool venue name, Naked for Satan. 

The rest are just photos I took from the rooftop. Naked for Satan is a great venue and I highly recommend it. 

You did well, my lads.

The weekend visit to Daylesford 2

Mount Franklin is a popular brand of bottled water in Australia, well Victoria at least. Apparently the real Mount Franklin does supply some spring water to the bottlers, probably owned by the giant Coca Cola Amatil. 

"Andrew, do we have the time to visit Mount Franklin?" "If you don't muck around, yes. We do have a train to catch." I had ordered the motel breakfast for $10, consisting of cereal, inadequate light milk and toast with butter and spreads, with me toasting the bread to make the toast. I had brought some chopped fruit and psyllium husks to add to the cereal. 

It was a lovely twenty minute drive to Mount Franklin, with such pretty scenery. There was nothing to see there that I know of but it is a popular camping ground. Camping?? Quell Horreur. 

We descended down to the carpark shared by those travelling on the vintage train and those attending the adjacent Sunday market. It took a little time to find a parking space but I thought we were there in plenty of time, fifteen minutes before departure. This three wheeler was parked as we walked to the station.

How did the station staff know my name? Now I surmise because I was the last person who had booked and arrived. The train was almost full and the seats weren't reserved.

 

Oh, what a beauty. A Walker Rail Motor, mostly used on country branch lines, since closed after the Beeching Report rationalisation of Victorian railways in the sixties and seventies. The Walker is two passenger carriages, in this case one first class and one second class, with another centre non passenger carriage where the two diesel motors and associated workings are located. There was little intrusion into the passenger carriages by engine noise as we climbed from an elevation of 616 metres to Bullarto at 735 metres, a quite steep rise of 1 in 50. Bullarto is the highest operating railway station in the state. 

A travel poster at the Bullarto Station. 

With a ten minute turn around at Bullarto, it was back to Daylesford, making it a perfect one hour trip. We only had two seats for three people, so Phyllis sat on Kosov's legs for the whole trip. 

We found some food at the Sunday market to fortify ourselves for the journey home, with Kosov driving to the motorway and then Phyllis for the rest to home. Some more luscious scenery along the way.

The weekend visit to Daylesford 1

Phyllis had nails on for his weekend away. I knew he had painted himself with some brush on gold. It isn't showing in the original photo but seems to be here.  For the 90 minute trip Kesav with his L plates displayed drove to our first stop, for lunch at a service centre Hungry Jacks, Burger King in other countries I think.

 

An Indian family was leaving their car next to where we parked. Phyllis got back into the car and drove to the petrol pumps to pump some liquid gold into Perl, while Kosov and I went in and ordered food. Kosov ordered by touch screen, I went to the counter and ordered. Haha, my food was ready first.

There was a side area to sit, and I could hear some loudish children there. I noticed the aforementioned Indian family sat in the other space near the front. Look, I would have sat in that area regardless but I did engineer things a little for my own amusement by deliberately sitting at the table next to the Indian family. Phyliss returned from topping up Perl's tank and none of the family took any notice of Phyllis at his girliest best except for one, the granny. She stared at Phyllis with malevolent eyes. My mission achieved.

I drove up the big hills to see how my new car performed. With cruise control set, it kept perfect speed at 110/70 and she used the gears sparingly. I turned on the self steering for a brief time, and while it does work well, I really don't like it. Once off the motorway, I let Phyllis drive the potholed country road to Daylesford.

Looking down on the township.

King of the castle, who looks so much better with short hair.

No idea what the car brand is, but it is rather cute. 

We ascended this lookout tower, only to stare into tree branches and leaves. Phyllis and Kosov at the base looking for the fingernail Phyllis dropped from the top of the tower.

The lads suggested this place for dinner and it was fine. 

There are many gay people living in Daylesford, and perhaps this place is owned by gay women. 

Time for the loo, but which door? I guessed wrongly of course. Eventually I did find the very secretive gender sign. 

This cistern is a bit flash, with clear writing on which button to use, instead of symbols that often can't be instantly worked out. But isn't half normally on the left?

At our digs this camellia was blooming. We had missed the best of the flowering spring trees by a week or so. 

I think this is a Prunus Elvins across the road. What is its normal name? Flowering plum, I think.

Almost next to the house where the tree is, was a house up for sale. It looked nice. I investigated later.

Very nice indeed. I'll do a bit of a Bob here, but without his style. I looked up the house and here is a link. Remember I mentioned a lot of gay people live in the area? When the gays move in and make an area lively, it becomes a desirable place to live and property prices rise, as does accommodation I might add. Daylesford had an annual gay pride festival called Chill Out although the website says it is much more than that. The price of this three bedroom home with only one bathroom is AU$1,125 million, US$790,000, UK£600,000, €693.000. That's a lot for a country property, over 90 minutes from Melbourne and doesn't have a train service.

If you click on the earlier link and then the first photo you see, it will take you to full sized photos plus a video and a floor plan. It just an old man's ten minute walk to the shops, but the road is quite busy, used by some trucks.  

Some original features have been retained but it is all very white and looks rather 'done up' for sale. Nowadays, the lack of an ensuite for the master bedroom is big drawback, so it wouldn't be for me, but still, it's quite a nice house with lots of street appeal. 

Just one more day

I seem to be writing all very personal stuff, and this post continues the theme.

5.30 this morning I sensed Jass jumping off my bed and my door creaked as she opened if further. She has no set sleeping place. The night before, it was with Phyllis and Kosov.

A sound intruded into my slumber. I had to get up to find out the new smoke detector outside our bedroom doors was doing a flat battery beep. There was nothing I could do about it without making a noise and disturbing Phyllis and Kosov.

Little did I know the sound began at about 4.30 and Kosov timed it at every 38 seconds. I couldn't return to sleep with the beep still happening, so I was up at 5.30. At some point after I arose at such an absurd hour, I closed their bedroom door and Kosov went back to sleep. 

AI told me to remove the battery, disconnect the hard wiring and press the button to discharge the capacitor. I knew if I called the electrician who installed the detectors, they would come immediately but I bided my time until the lads woke.

It was then that I heard about Kosov's experience. Phyllis snored on. Kosov pressed the button on the detector and he thought it worked to kill the sound No Kosov, don't put the steps away yet. Sure enough, the chirping restarted. 

We could not work out how to open the detector but eventually Youtube helped us. Kosov removed the battery and we waited a minute or so and put the battery back and all was well. It seems we had fully drained the detector's capacitor. 

My car needed a wash after our trip to the country, with quite a number of smashed bugs, along with dirt and dust. Removing bug smatterings from your windscreen is not successful at an automatic car wash, so it needed a hand car wash, much more expensive.

I told Kosov I was taking the no good filthy non binary whore Perl to be cleansed and he was hysterical with laughter. My delivery of the words must have been good. 

Perl was sparkling after her good cleansing. I won't say how much it cost. I might use the service twice a year, normally after a country trip.

Later there was another visit by a 'tradesperson' to give me a quote.

But let me tell you, Phyllis arose beaming this morning. Kosov has suggested a nice place they could go to eat on Tuesday night and they trammed to town and then caught a 70 tram along Flinders Street, which seemed odd to Phyllis, but he left Kosov in charge. Once they reached John Cain Arena, Kosov told Phyllis, we are getting off here. At this point Phyllis knew what was happening. Kosov had bought a surprise ticket for them to see a K Pop group perform to a huge audience. Phyllis adores the girl group. He was absolutely over the moon to see the group perform live. A little minimal usage of AI, not killing the planet, tells me the name of the group is Mamamoo.

Delicious spicy chicken drumsticks with a salad for dinner.  

Do you reckon my day ended there? Nope. At about 8.30pm I stepped out onto the balcony and I felt my socks get wet. Water was flooding down from somewhere above. I suspected the apartment above, the place where the hose burst last March and I hoped it wasn't a repeat of interior flooding. I went up the stairs and knocked on the door and it was answered by a lad who wasn't there in March. He was washing down his balcony with buckets of water. I pointed out the effect to my balcony and that body corporate rules prohibit any water falling from your balcony. He was very apologetic. 

But then there is the Fetch TV drama from the morning. That's worth a full post, and HH's daughter, OAM, having childish fun in London. 

Just a day

It was on my list 'to do'. That is have the smoke alarms replaced. The one nearest the kitchen is set off at times by Phyllis cooking, and it only makes a soft cheeping noise. Not enough to wake anyone from a deep slumber. The other is partly hanging loose from the ceiling. I assume it still worked, although I haven't checked it since I last replaced the back up battery. They are hard wired to the electric, with a battery backup.

I called the electrician this Tuesday morning to replace the smoke detectors. It is pointless asking for a quote. I know they do go a good job and charge a fair price by the hour. I s'pose I'll wait a week or two for someone to do the job.

I caught the tram to Prahran for a pedicure. I decided to speak up about the pedicure. I always say to cut my toenails short, but they are cut like I am a young woman who shows off her feet. No one sees my bare feet, so I am not concerned about appearance, so I told the woman to cut my big toenails shorter and more square. She stuck a very sharp blade into a hand held device and stripped away any dead skin on my feet. My skin fell like confetti. That was followed by abrasion.  

As my feet were being attended to, the electrician sent me a message, would I be home between 1.30 and 3.00. I will be, and the sparky arrived around 2.00 and half an hour later, the job was done. In days of old, I would have done the replacement myself. 

It is a bit hard to get excited by smoke alarm replacements, but they do look very nice and clean, unlike the 28 year old units.

Phyllis and Kesav were out having fun while this was happening, and once home forgot about the smoke detectors being replaced. After a couple of hours and Phyllis plating up a meals on wheels for me to heat in the microwave, went out again.

Quite a satisfying day really.   

The rent reduction

I reduced Phyllis' and Kesav's rent with a few conditions, the major one being that if either or both of them are home at my dinner time, they are responsible for heating it or cooking the meal. This worked well for a while until they weren't so often home at my dinner time, being busy working. 

Two days ago Phyllis did not tell me he would not be home, as he went straight from one job to another. Kosov left for work early, over three hours before my dinner time. Had I have known, I could have prepared something myself, one way or the other, mentally at least. Similar happened a couple of days earlier. I was not happy. 

I mentioned to Kosov that the recycling needed to be taken down, ages before he left for work and he did not. I noticed Jass' water fountain was nearly empty. I sent him a one line message, 'Recycling and Jass water'. 'Sorry Andrew, as soon as I am home'. 

At dinner time, Phyllis called and I ignored the call as I was picking up some takeaway across the road. He called again and I answered and he said he told me he would not be home at dinner time to fix my meal. He did not tell me such in advance.

They both arrived home from their jobs before I went to sleep, and my displeasure must have already been guessed about and discussed. In summary, I told them that they had to act like responsible adults, and real life was not all about Japanese Animae. Taking the recycling down to the basement is their responsibility, it used to be mine, and ensuring Jass has water is also their responsibility.  

They were both home the next day and after I went shopping for staples, we all went out in Perl for a Kosov driving lesson, and he drove on a motorway for the first time, to Williamstown and back over the Westgate Bridge. I am still not happy with his traffic checking at roundabouts, but he is improving each driving lesson.

As an aside, and I can't imaging why, but Coles supermarket in Williamstown is absolutely fabulous. What a wonderful variety of food, fresh and packaged.

I picked up some heated chicken drumsticks to eat sitting outside. Onnndrewww, you are hungry. Eat the the drumsticks. Kosov, I do not eat food while walking up and down supermarket aisles. I sit down to eat. Here Onndreww, eat. I did. I am so ashamed by my consumption of chicken drumsticks in the Williamstown Coles Supermarket aisle. I just thought no one would notice one, but then I ate another.

But we three had a lovely weekend away, which I will of course tell you about. 

Melbourne Excitement

It was hard not to get excited this Friday as in front of 100,000 spectators the Los Angeles Rams lost to the San Francisco 49ers, and without knowing the scoring system, it sounds like a score 7 to 27 is a decisive win to the 49ers. A trouncing perhaps.

This made Melburnians very happy. The US football team, the 49ers had been in Melbourne for several days before the match, acclimatising to the weather, around a cool but ok daytime average of 15/59 this week, and of course the time change. The team made itself popular by being out and about around town, spotted my many. Melbourne chalked up great respect for the team.

This contrasts with the LA Rams, who arrived the day before the game, and we never got to know them. All about hearts and minds, and don't forget that.

I suppose it was a coincidence that the match was played on 9/11, or 11/09 here, probably 8/11 in the US. Now that vile creature #47 is claiming he was carried from the site by firefighters, without any trace of evidence that anyone can find. But he is not spoiling my post. 

The match was a great spectacle for our city, although there are only guesses about what it cost our State of Victoria, AU$15 million to AU$45 million. It is, psst, commercial in confidence. I have the view that taxpayers are entitled to know. 

Sister and Bone Doctor arrived at 3pm the evening before to stay the night. They went into town to soak up the atmosphere, and returned at 5.15 for drinks and nibbles and I had invited HH up to meet them for the first time. They were super impressed to learn about her son who was an international Australian Rugby Union champion player, and her daughter's son being a worker at Hobbiton in New Zealand.

I had invited HH to join us for dinner in town but she had tickets to see the stage show musical Pretty Women with a friend. We three dined at the Swiss Club in town and soaked up the atmosphere in the city.

Next morning was an early start as they needed to be at the football venue by 9.00 and we went out for breakfast first, at around 7.30. That totally turned my normal morning upside down, and my arthritis kicked in with a vengeance. I try not to take painkillers, but I did Friday morning.

Eventually by midday I felt ready to go out again, where I visited Hosier Lane to check out the NFL murals. I'll post them Monday.

A woman boarded the tram as I did, with two young boys. She looked familiar. Here is an edited text of what I sent to HH. The woman on the tram was our neighbour for a couple of years.

I boarded the tram below to travel to the city today and a woman got on at the same stop with two young boys. She looked familiar. I thought is it or isn't it? I was guessing the age of the boys and it added up. I was going to get off at Flinders Street to take photos of the NFL murals in Hosier Lane, but they left at the Arts Centre. I made a last minute decision and jumped off too. I still wasn't 100% sure, so with her back to me I called out S. No harm if it wasn't her. She spun around and sure enough, and funny that we mentioned her the other day, it was S and her boys R and D. She has lost weight and looked pretty good. I had a chat to her for a few minutes and then the boys began to get restless, so they went off to visit the Gallery and I caught the next tram to Flinders Street. She and T are living in Mount Martha, and he is working in Emergency at I assume, F Hospital. He was at the NFL match, having caught a bus from F at 7.00 this morning and they were all staying a couple of nights in the city, perhaps nearby. Of course she didn't know about Ray's death so I filled her in but there wasn't much time to chat.  

Anyway, it was a nice little catch up.   

After the match Bone Doctor went back to Geelong Station by train, to take Jo's car home. Sister arrived back here around 5.00 and Jo is in town with friends as I type and she will come here and then Sister and Jo will drive home.

Phyllis has cooked butter chicken, rice and Kosov is heating some roti for dinner and there is enough to share with Sister. 

I suppose we all know a bit more about NFL now, and what we used to call Gridiron, has been a great success. Probably just a one off though, although we will remain 49ers supporters if we ever hear any news about them.

Photos from the evening before:

Flinders Street Station.

               

My fingers run away

Phyllis has an excellent command of written and spoken English, and even without the usual Indian accent.

Kosov has excellent written English but his speaking is quirky. He struggles to explain anything complicated. But then I probably do too. At times I have had to restart explaining something. 

Neither of them have good mental arithmetic. If they want an instant answer to simple arithmetic, they ask me. And my mental arithmetic is far from perfect but faster than theirs, and more accurate.

When a new calendar arrives each year, Phyllis marks the calendar when the fortnightly rent is to be paid. I picked up that he mucked that up during the change from last year's calendar. He wasn't trying to cheat me, as his mistake was in my favour by one week. They are now paying rent four weeks in advance, but again Phyllis mucked up, and marked the calendar one month after he last paid four weeks rent. No, no. That short changes me by a few days each month. He understood and realised his mistake. I have no doubt it was unintentional. He knows I am smart with minor amounts of money, just not so smart with larger amounts. Yep, I look after pennies, not necessarily the pounds.

Speaking of pennies, for a long time I've wondered why Americans refer to coins as pennies. Aren't they cents? Aren't dollars and cents the standard?

Some good news here today. Food delivery drivers will now receive an hourly wage of around AU$31 an hour while they are working, plus some accident and personal injury insurance paid for by their employing companies. My lads never look to the future about shopping and we had run out of cat litter, which is not in my job description. Kosov didn't want to go out to get some after being told to do so, so he had it delivered from Aldi, for a fee of $4.50. That is simply a ridiculously low delivery fee. It may rise now that proper wages have to be paid to delivery drivers. Good.

What a horrible business in England, where a professor was driven to suicide, mostly by the Murdoch media. I can never remember an academic being attacked by media as he was. 

In Israel, Netanyahu is trying to build bridges with far right parliamentary members who want to bomb Arab countries to bits before a forthcoming election, while #47 continues his nonsense, now having being humiliated by Iran. Yeah, all about oil, but #47, you have huge problems in your own country. Yet the fuckwit is against his own citizens and businesses who use and promote renewable energy, thus reducing the reliance on Middle Eastern oil. Follow the money for him and his corrupt cronies and you will find out why.

Now Kosov has his Master's degree and no longer a student, he had to apply for a two year post study visa. My god, how Australia rips off overseas students. Now it is an AU$500 for a medical check and chest x-ray. He has spent many hours online applying for his visa. Stepping out of my personal interest in having them stay, they are hard working, decent and honest young men, in a committed relationship. As much as they are taking from Australia, they are giving more back to the country. 

Oh yes, the three of us had a very nice couple of hours out with HH last Friday night. I was going to insist on paying for my two glasses of wine but I knew what her reaction would be, so it was pointless. She can certainly talk, but I noticed her conversational skills, by the way she engaged Phyllis and Kosov in conversations. You'd be surprised how well an 80 year old straight white Australian woman could talk with two Indian born gay overseas former students who have lived in Australia for a couple of years.

Personal Bits

The zed/zee battle with Phyllis and Kesav is ongoing.

It has become a bit of a joke about Kosov visiting the rest room. I now wish him well with his visit to the rest room, which can be half an hour, and later ask him if he enjoyed his rest. Their is a bucket and scoop in the toilet, so I guess some washing happens. Both of the lads only shower about every third or fourth day, and that is when they wash their hair. They are always perfectly clean and wash their hand appropriately. 

Is it not enough that we seem intent on destroying our own planet, now we are starting to destroy the moon too, with one of Musk Rat's space craft crashing into the lovely Mr Moon, with a huge ground explosion. Scumbag. His daughter hates him so much, she changed her surname, and effectively called him a racist Boer. 

Friday, neighbour HH is taking us out for dinner, and Phyllis has chosen an Italian place in Brunswick Street, Fitzroy. We will catch two trams to travel to the popular, rather grungy and alternative area. I said to HH, "Eighty year old Nonna will be able to brag to her children and grandchildren that she has been for dinner on the 'wild side'". 

I thought the twin boys would be last in my life time to be born in my immediate family, but no. Hippie Niece is pregnant with a boy. The mother of the now nine year old 'Cafe Latte' twins had a terrible pregnancy and horrible post natal depression, which became ongoing psychiatric issues. She was hospitalised for a time in a mental health unit, she wasn't to be alone with her daughters and was provided with a daily carer for some hours each day. She is now in a stable relationship, with two step daughters of a similar age to hers, and manages well enough. The whole family were dreading this happening, yet we've all decided to be very positive about the impending arrival of her son. At the age of 34, she is older and more mature, and I think she will be ok. So, I will have five great nieces and four great nephews, my youngest brother being their paternal grandfather, and Ex Sis in Law being their maternal grandmother.

I put it to Phyllis and Kosov, what should I do next at home in the way of renewal and improving my home. I gave alternatives, new modern overhead lighting? Replace the 20 year old plus lounge room furniture? Have new floor tiles put over the top of the old ones in the kitchen, toilet and bathrooms?  The vote went for the new tiles. 

I saw an ad on tv featuring a gay male couple with a baby. Kosov, I asked him, if you and Phyllis adopted a baby or child, which sex would you prefer? He said, either, but Phyllis would like a girl. I replied, 'So he and your daughter could share make up and nail polish?' The discussion went on about child adoption and I asked him if he would consider adopting a child in India. He emphatically said no, which seemed odd. Why so? 'If it was a he, he might turn out to look one of the three guys who raped me at school. Every time I see someone who looks like one of them, I just hate Indian men so much.' Well, that rather sent me sideways. 

We had a gay Anglo Indian friend from about 1980 to 1995, and he was raped at one of Calcutta's most prestigious boys' school, but in his case, he said he quite enjoyed it, and really fancied one of the guys.

I don't know any detail. There could have been violence or not involved. Warren already knew he liked guys and Kosov identified as straight then. Oh what damage men do.

Alert but not alarmed

We were all very alert, and very prepared to be alarmed as we had been warned that at 2pm our national emergency warning system would be tested, with a siren blaring or blasting or ear splitting (the media were full on with their use of a thesaurus), out from our phones for ten seconds, along with a message to ignore the alert.

I was in Bay Street, Port Melbourne at 2pm with Phyllis and Kosov after a driving lesson for Kosov and a need for bahn mi for both of them. Kosov has a dry cough so they went into the supermarket to buy chicken meat to make a restorative chicken soup. I was sitting in the pleasant little park just metres away from the main street. As 2pm approached, I moved closer to the street to see how people would react to the siren.

Remember Big Ears and Noddy of the children's book fame? Noddy drove a car which when he sounded its horn, made a parp parp sound. Does that sounded like a horn blasting a warning. Parp parp.

That is how I'd described the alert. No one in the street seemed to react. An older woman wearing huge earmuffs tried to engage with a couple of young girls walking past, who acknowledged her but kept walking. I was a stationary target. She had a heavy accent, I guess Italian, as she told me told me her granddaughter said to her 'Nonna, don't go out as you will be scared when the siren on your phone goes off'. Nonna insisted she was going out. 'Nonna, take my ear muff headphones then', and she did wear them, and heard nothing. Had I have had my phone in my pocket, I probably would not have heard the 'parp parp' either. 

Nonna liked to talk. Her husband died eight years ago, her daughter of cancer two years ago. Her granddaughter is too choosy about men.  Her grandson was engaged but broke it off. 'He is so handsome, always looks neat and wears nice clothes, and is so funny. He is very kind to me, he works at a prison and has his own house, but he lives in another house with his friend.' Hmmm.

Where on earth are Phyllis and Kosov to save me.

The bastards eventually arrived and walked past me to stand about five metres away. I must have a word with them about what to do in such situations, where the default is to save me. I gave her a couple of pats on her puffer jacket enclosed upper arm and left her midstream talking.

Then they told me they has already engaged with her, as she complained about the toilets in the supermarket walkway being closed for two weeks. 

Did your phones sound an alert, I asked them? No Onnndrew. Mine is on silent, but I saw the message. (the alert comes through regardless of whether your phone is on silent). No Annndrew, I didn't hear anything. I think it probably did work for them but they didn't hear the parp parp.

It seems the alert worked for 94% of the population the phone towers and for those who it did not work for, perhaps a very old phone or a local tower was closed for maintenance.

ABC Radio uses an excellent alert sound when there is a fire or flood threat warning.

It was an alert, but hardly a sound to make you alarmed or even alert. Perhaps they should look at the sounds of older technology. 

                                                                                                             

A Home Invasion

'Andrew, we have invited friends to play board games on Friday at 11.30. Is that ok?'

They had already invited them, so I had to say yes. I would have regardless. Right, I had planned one last visit before my annual Melbourne Zoo pass expires, and I will do that while games are played.

'Phyllis, are these people who will invade my home trustworthy? I don't want my silverware to be nicked or anyone rifling through my drawers." 

To get to the zoo, I would have once caught the direct 58 tram from home, or a tram to Melbourne Flinders Street, then a train. 

Now with the Metro train, is was much quicker to catch the train from the nearby Anzac Station to Parkville Station, then the 58 tram for the last leg. I've come to realise that while the Metro Train is very quick, as it is in a tunnel, it is terribly boring. If I can pull my eyes away from my phone, I usually like to look out the window at passing scenery. 

Honestly, Melbourne Zoo is boring as bat shit. Most of the animals hide away in the cold weather and those that are out, don't do very much. They don't do much when it is hot either.

I bought coffee and ate the sandwich I brought from home. If there were decent cakes, I would have bought one.

Once home after being out for four hours, there were remains of a huge amount of food being cooked, enough left over for my dinner and some more. The dishwasher was on, but in the sink and on the bench, there was another load to be washed. I am so pleased I pressed Phyllis to use the dishwasher. I can't imagine the water use if the dishes were washed under heated running water, as was his inclination.

An extremely complicated board game was underway on the coffee table, with four visitors. I retired to my west wing to relax and play with my tablet. 

I didn't want to interrupt their game after my rest, and so set up my tablet at my desk to watch the 6pm car crash commercial tv news. Soon after, two people left and the remaining pair retired to Phyllis' and Kosov's bedroom, handing my space at home back to me. My dinner of whatever with rice was served at 7pm, and then everyone left for a 'long walk'. 

The bad, my home was not my own for a period. The good, Phyllis and Kosov were building friendships and relationships. English was the lingua franca.

A zoo gorilla was quite entertaining. She had stolen her siter's hessian sack and kept pulling it over head. I timed my visit for a keeper talk, which was interesting enough.

It was both cool and sad to see the pygmy hippopotamus, as it swam around and around the pool following the same path. I really hope it can be transferred to the excellent Werribee Plains Open Zoo soon.

The thing is Melbourne Zoo needs exotic animals to attract visitors and when there were still elephants at the zoo, they had a rather good amount of land with a natural environment. Their current accommodation at Werribee Zoo is fantastic.

The zoo has at least one lion and a snow leopard in reasonable conditions, but I have seen lions pacing along the walls.

The Komodo dragon was not visible and a keeper did not show up on for the talk. 

Here a few photos from the day.

There wasn't a sentinel meerkat standing erect and watching for enemies, just this one busy burrowing.   

I think it is imaginatively called a giant tortoise. A very cool dude. 

 

Peeky boo lemur. Huddle up and stay warm.

Lemurs together would be called a troop, I guess. I think a good collective noun would be a liaison of lemur. 

You can not see me. I'm a gorilla in the mist....hessian sack.

I cover my ears to destress myself.