Sunday Selec.....or Tales of Kosov

I don't think about our Friday and Saturday night all night limited public transport service. Kosov had to start work at Doncaster at 9pm until 1.30am. It was his first night there and he said it was so busy. Apparently there was a large party who had booked for 11.30pm until 12.30am. Who would be up at that hour to feast on pancakes? Weird. (Old man talking)

Kosov was thinking of Ubering home as there wasn't public transport. He didn't realise he needed to look at the next day for public transport in the early morning. I spent half an hour checking public transport for him, and gave him details. Phyllis went out to meet him after work, so clearly he knew about night public transport. You know, late night public transport is just wonderful for people who can't possibly drive and need to work at odd times.

He was home for a couple of hours and then by 6am he went off to his next job, a Bundoora hamburger place, to which he could catch a train/bus or a tram. 

Phyllis again went out to meet him at the end of his shift, and they arrived home at 4pm. Kosov looked like crap. One of his eyes seemed to be looking in a different direction. Maybe his contact lens had slipped. He was exhausted. He slept for a couple of hours and Phyllis fed him and me, and off he went again to work in Bundoora. 

There is nothing wrong with their work ethics.

At least Phyllis was home tonight to reconstruct and serve my tuna mornay dinner. 

Oh dear. The Lego train has come to grief. It has grown in length, and miniature Lego dinosaurs are appearing. My rule that there is one shelf on the shelving unit for their use is being ignored. I care not. I did clamp down on an extra cactus, now in their bedroom, more things on the bench beyond the train, and stuffs sitting on the filing cabinet. Surfaces sweetie, surfaces. 

The social

Monday night was our annual building's Christmas barbeque and it was very nice. There was a decent amount of nice prawns on offer and I ate several but they did not seem so popular and there were quite a few left. Very strange and unusual. 

While we did mingle a bit we spent most of our time sitting with a friend a couple of floors down from us, a 75 year old woman whose husband is in care with dementia, but he is fortunately a happy person with dementia and while his care place is two hours drive away, he is near to his children. She is the longest term resident of the building, we are the second longest. That's quite something out of 128 apartments. 

We also sat with an Australian/Asian couple, who were both of a similar age to each other and to us. While she was obviously Asian looking, she speaks perfect Australian. They are nice people and she could speak Asian, maybe Chinese Malaysian to the young Asian couple who were at the end of the table who live on the same floor as they do. They seemed nice but what do people our age have in common them. We dutifully admired and cooed at their almost toddler Jason/Jayson/Jaysen/Jaysyn/Jay.

Thursday night was out to meet our Friend in Japan for an old style Chinese restaurant meal. It was lovely to see her again and an enjoyable evening out. She is spending Christmas in Lorne, an ultra busy seaside coastal town.

Friday night, we met up with my former workmate for some Indian food near his home. The food was, as always, delicious. I tried not to talk about work too much with R there but I probably failed. I wanted to hear the juicy gossip of who is ...who, and learn of the latest outrages perpetrated by management against my former workmates. And I thought it was bad when I left. One story was about someone who I remember, about sixty years old with a very Greek name, because he was Greek, was selling four Taylor Swift Melbourne concert tickets online for $300 each. I think the real price would be well over $1,000, but one of his workmates bought the tickets, only to learn later that George's FB has been hacked and a scammer had the $1,200. I am not sure about you, but my antennae would rise if I was buying pop concert tickets on FB from a sixty year old fellow employee Greek man. 

So, it was a busy enough week for us and now Christmas and family is almost upon us. 

Happy Holidays

I've already complained to Yarra Trams about public announcements and now I will complain about our ABC national broadcaster, tv, radio and the internet about the use of Happy Holidays instead of of Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

There is the blindingly obvious that many people are not on holiday, as you who are are served by someone in a restaurant or pay at a petrol station for your fuel. Happy Holidays is such a middle class wish, taking no account of those who serve you and collect your rubbish while you are having Happy Holidays. Lordy, in Australia there are poor and or lonely people who have a miserable Christmas and certainly no happy holidays.

After forty years of workplace Christmas parties with Buddhists, Jews, Muslims and Hindus and their children, I don't think any had an objection to the Australian cultural celebration of Christmas. Most Australians are not religious and Christmas fun is just our culture. 

Yet ABC with the political correctness (I hate using that term) of Happy Holidays, the ABC also has dinosaurs like McNamara who see no future for electric cars and questions whether electric storage batteries actually work. 

Jesus effing christ. It does my head in. Maybe I need to change to ABC Classic (music). Perhaps there I will be wished Seasons Greetings, which I will be quite happy with. 

Royal Coats

Was it a royal march in Sandringham to church on Christmas Day? 

The royals were perfectly turned out in stunning coats that must have each cost hundreds of pounds. Their coats were just so perfect. This photo is clearly not 2022 or the year before hatred and nastiness cane it the fore.

 

What's her name...Mary? William's wife. She stands out in the photo above. Sparkle looks like she is attending a funeral but in spite of her we are all playing happy family visage. I remember now, Kate.....Middle...Middleclass. 

Here we go. I think this is the 2022 Christmas walk to church. A perfectly turned out rich aristocratic English royal family. Just you wait Mary Poppins, just you wait.

 The phrase, 'I'll just get my coat' was de rigueur in English tv shows in the 1990s if a woman was requested to leave home. Earlier years might have been 'hat, scarf, coat and gloves'. 

I have a nice work supplied woollen coat but it has my place of employment identified on the coat. It is dark blue and perhaps I should take it to a tailor to remove the work place identifier. I am not sure it is a good cut as I've never worn it or even looked at it, but I am sure it will keep me warmer in winter. I really felt the cold last winter. I should pull it out from under its plastic covering and take a look at it. 

Aside from the ghastly puffer jacket longer coats, generally we don't wear long coats in Australia. Jackets and short coats to keep our central body core warm are adequate. 

Right, I think my overcoat will go some charity shop. Just a little more Swedish death cleaning done.  

I shouldn't ignore the elephant in the room, the spoilt, rich, whining, and whingeing English brat. It is good that so much of his teenage like immature whining is getting out there in the media. No need to buy the Spare's book at all. 'Nobody likes me. Everybody hates me. Guess I'll go and eat some worms'. I can understand that he may have been traumatised by his mother's death, as any young child would be, but I just wish he would just bugger orf and burn his pale skin in California.