Tales of Phyllis

With apologies to Bob for stealing his Carlos headline. 

Saturday night Kosov was working at his hospo job in Collingwood until 1 am. Phyllis was with friends and then went to accompany Kosav back home. There was a wait for them before the all night 67 tram service was due, so they enjoyed a Slurpee at a 711. 

They arrived back home at 2.30.

I woke early and I was up before my usual time of 7. Phyllis had not slept. He had left his phone on the tram at 2.30 am. As soon as I arose, he was asking me what to do. I answered with, if the phone is handed in to the tram driver, at the end of their shift they will hand the lost property into the senior management tram depot person on duty. Lost property only operates during business hours. So Phyllis, you are flying home tonight, Sunday night. This is not business hours for lost property.

Phyllis fell into a sound sleep and could not be woken but Kosov could. I had called in some favours, and a phone has been handed in at Glen Huntly tram depot from last night, as it would be if found on a 67 all night tram service. It sounded like Phyllis' phone and I drove Kosov to pretend he was Phyllis to hopefully collect the phone. It was not Phyllis' phone. That was about 9am.

I had texted my 'dead in bed' neighbour HH at the usual time of 8.30, and she too was feeling bad about the lost phone. 

Phyllis awoke at 10.30 and was very stressed about his lost phone. I had to bash off to meet Ex 
Sis in Law, her son and his three children at the Altona miniature railway. Just as I was about to leave Kosov received a phone call from someone in Elwood who had found Phyllis' phone on the tram. It is too difficult to explain how someone could call Kosov from Phyllis' fingerprint locked phone, but it was something Phyllis had set up. Phyliss knew his battery was flat and had also set up something by 'my lost phone' that would make the phone delete everything on his phone after it was restarted once he ordered it lost.

I messaged HH that the phone of Phyliss had been found and she was pleased and offered to drive him to collect it. How kind is that! I felt like replying with some bad words about Phyllis, but instead said, he can catch the tram, no problem. Funnily the address to pick up the phone was in the same Elwood street Ray and I lived in  back in 1980/1/2.

There was no point in being cross with Phyllis about losing his phone. When such things happen, no one is more critical of themselves than the person themself. We all do stupid things at times. 

Sure enough, he charged and restarted his phone and it returned to factory settings. It's not such a big deal for him. He just wanted his phone back. 

The rest of the afternoon was packing and constant luggage weight testing. His student luggage allowance was 47 kilos and he was just on that and having spoken to him just before finishing the post, he did have to pay another $100 for some excess luggage. He is safely back in Chennai/Madras now. 

Kosov and I did quite a lot of cleaning today. Miss capital city of Peru stayed one night in the spare room the night before Phyllis left and I didn't say she couldn't but I didn't say she could. My old desk chair is in the spare room while I await a rubbish collection and she had been sitting in it, spinning and it has marked my newly painted wall. Kosov tried to clean the marks off, but only reduced them. I could get the painter to touch it up but there is no reason why I can't do it and I will. 

I am not happy about this at all. It indicates disrespect for my home. There will be new house rules about visitors once Phyllis and Kosov return.

There is also this mark on the kitchen bench top. No one confesses as to how it happened. 

Kosov is returning to his accommodation, which he has been paying for, while living here. Phyllis had paid the rent until Thursday and I said Kosov could stay until then. I told Kosov today he can stay a night or two while Phyllis is away. Phyllis will move in with him when he returns at the end of December until Kosov's lease agreement ends sometime in January. The cost of the room to accommodate them here will increase from $200 per week to $300. Over the last few weeks, it became clear and it is obvious Phyllis and Kosov are 'together'. Both have love bites on their necks.

I'm looking forward to some time alone, although I have no regrets about taking on 'the boys'. I love 'em to bits in a fatherly kind of way, and as I may have mentioned, the father of Phyllis is the same age as I am. 

Later: There is a notice on the building's notice board by someone who wants to rent a room for a week at the Christmas and New Year period. I could have them in my spare room, at $350 for the week, use of the bathroom and kitchen but no cooking. The person who posted the notice is a resident two floors below and it is to accommodate some visiting relatives. I'll give that some thought. 

Unexpectedly good

I didn't know what to expect at this exhibition and it took a while for the theme to sink into my ageing brain. It was an exhibition by Reko Rennie, an artist I'd not heard of. Let the art tell the story and the longer I looked, the clearer the theme of Aboriginal rights, invasion of their lands and mistreatment became obvious.

I thought it was very well done and afterwards, HH, who volunteers at the Melbourne Visitor Information Centre, also saw it and thought it was very good, and  helpful to recommend to visitors.

I can't remember the connection between a Rolls Royce in camouflage and 'the cause'. 

Lots of neon was used.

Nice one.

Very clever.

I am heading east tomorrow in the motor car for a few days of a 'well earned break'. While there are Aboriginal inhabitants who I may come across, I am more afraid of the white people who I will meet there. I'll return soon.  

Don't panic Captain Mainwaring

Sorry if I concerned any of you by using the word frantic yesterday. It was a case of my own doing. 

Saturday night the boys asked me if I could show them around Prahran, an area where they had not been. Of course they couldn't get their act together and we missed the planned tram and only just caught the next one twelve minutes later.

After the 'Are you dead in bed', text exchange with HH, she apologised for the short notice but would I like to accompany her to a once a month repair cafe run by volunteers. She has a quite attractive small analogue radio but its volume control has become scratchy. Many of you will know what that means and happens when the control becomes dirty. Some metho on a cotton bud will fix it, if you can get into it. She also offered to take me somewhere where I had not been afterwards. Really? She said to meet in the carpark at 1.45 to be at the volunteer repair place by 2.00pm. She was going to use her sat nav, but I know the area well, so of course I could guide her.

I could do both, with Phyllis and Kosov, and with Heather. I told Phyllis I would leave them in Chapel Street to do their own thing and return home to meet up with HH. 

I showed them around Prahran Market, generally more expensive than supermarkets but high quality, then Pran(sic) Central, where I bought a bacon and egg muffin and coffee and they bought a smoothie to share, and we sat in Prahran Square for a while. We walked down Chapel Street and I pointed out Chapel Street Bazaar and they were so excited. I left them there and was at the route 6 tram stop at 12.57 to catch a tram home to meet HH at 1.45. A tram every 12 minutes and an 11 minute trip home. Worst case, I just missed a tram, so a 12 minute wait, plus 11 minutes, equals me arriving home at 1.20. It was demonstration day in the city, so the timetable is altered for the disruption and for some mysterious reason, route 6 doesn't show on apps. I did not arrive home until 1.50, half an hour later than what should be the worst case, and I went straight to the car park to meet HH, after texting her to say I'd be a few minutes late. There are many alternatives to getting home in the area, but I just did not know that a tram wasn't on the horizon. I was furious, and I vented my spleen Sunday night at Yarra Trams. It won't care as it has been sacked and a new operating company will take over next month. Yarra Trams is also on Twitter, but there was nothing posted about the delay on route 6. So yes, I have lodged a complaint and instead of being a general complaint, I was very specific with times etc. 

The repair place was very busy and after half an hour of waiting, HH called it quits, and was kindly advised that 3.30 the next month might have the shortest wait time. We chatted about everything under the sun, except politics. 

I then took her into the St Kilda Botanic Gardens, aka Blessington Street Gardens to see the roses and Rain Man. She in a meandering way drove us to The Fruiterers Wife. I had a nice cup of coffee and some lovely cheese cake at the cafe. But while there, Phyllis called, "Where are you?" Because I went out with them, they didn't take their fob and key with them. I told them before we left home that I would leave them in Prahran. Tough luck Phyllis. I will return in HH's own time. 

They had to move to spare room because Monday morning a person was coming to replace the window tinting in their bedroom at some time between 7.30 and 12.00. 

Kosov doesn't like alcohol, so I not sure why he had drank a glass of red wine and then a shot of tequila, but he did, became terribly affectionate and then passed out. I was asleep and I was woken by voices. I called out, shut up Phyllis, and it became silent. I woke at 5.30 and noticed there was light coming in under my door. Phyllis was still up, wandering around. I went back to bed and tried to sleep but I was worried about Phyllis. Does he have Hyper Active Disorder? I got up again, and he was standing stroking the hair of one of the vintage Barbie dolls he had bought, along with some stuffed toys, soaps and various other things to take home as gifts when he leaves next week. I gave him a brief lecture about a good nights sleep and going to bed at a reasonable time, which will be good for his health. 

They both emerged from the spare room at about noon. Because of disturbed sleep, I felt pretty awful but I was showered by 7.30 to let in the window tinting person. Lordy, at 8.30 the glazier we used last year turned up. I don't want glass replaced, as was on his work order. Just window tinting. He's a nice guy and we had a bit to chat about, and he measured up for the tinting, which is apparently contracted out to another company. 

I was due a meal delivery before 11am. I was dying for a cup of coffee, at the cafe across the road. At noon I called the company and the bloke told me the deliverer was nearby, but I knew it would still be a while. The meals arrived about twenty minutes later. 

I was hopelessly behind with reading blogs and commenting, but I did catch up a bit before my 2.30 eye test and new glasses appointment in the city. I had time for coffee and a bite to eat before my next appointment at my superannuation place at 4pm. I was home a bit after 4.00pm. 

I should have told HH that I had a prior commitment, and as much as I enjoy her company, I should have stuck to my commitment to Phyllis and Kosov. 

As I began typing this, the vacuum cleaner is busy, as is the wet floor mop and also the dining table and chairs are being cleaned. Then the wok is heated for whatever Phyllis is cooking. I had a delicious piece of chicken as a snack this Monday, left over from last night. 

There is nothing on tomorrow, thank goodness. Phyllis is working tomorrow but Kosov isn't. If he wants, he can come with me when I get supplies for a couple of days away, and check out the Queen Elizabeth ship moored at Station Pier. 

This attracted our attention in the Bazaar. 

The gardens I showed HH were looking lovely with most of roses in their prime.

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon was brought home. It had a sweetness I didn't like. 

That's all the space you  are having for your cars, Phyllis. 

The Barbies are temporary.

I found Cinderella's slipper the next morning.

No Post

Sunday was frantic. Monday will be frantic. I am behind on blog reading. My priority is to write a complaint to Yarra Trams.  

But 11/11, Lest we Forget. 

Sunday Selections

A few randoms for Sunday Selections as I join in with Elephant's Child and River.

I think this is called skyrail, where old road train and car street level crossings have been replaced. The supports for the overhead wires are...well, amazing and a bit creepy,

A photo shoot in as I recall, South Melbourne.

A bit of a case of WTF?

The second last meal out I had with Ray was at a great Indian restaurant in Albert Park. As we walked back to the car, I snapped this photo. We said we will return for another meal. That won't happen. 

I cannot remember where I took this photo but do you remember drive in theatres? You would hook these speakers into you side wind up windows, and hopefully remember to remove them before you departed.

A very cool place in Flinders Street, Melbourne. Not for the likes of 67 year old. I sent this photo to my niece Jo as I know she would like the shop, but of course she did not respond.

The disruption to the Flinders Street area has been immense because of the Metro Train tunnel, but there has been some nice things done to lessen the impact. 

Even in the days of instant online hookups, a gay sauna still thrives. I sat in a bus shelter nearby to rest my back for a few minutes, and I was amazed to see men coming and going from the venue. I think I visited once, many years ago. It is still referred to as chopsticks and walking sticks. 

This vid is a bit of fun. 

Under the Clocks

Last Sunday I met my Friend in Japan, who is no longer in Japan and three of her friends. One a paramedic who I think now trains paramedics, and a female couple, one a retired cop and the other a retired army officer. We got to know the first two through Ray's work, and the couple through our Friend in Japan. All are wearers of sensible shoes. 

They all have great senses of humour and we had a very nice lunch at Southbank. I left home at 11.40 to meet at 12.00 and I didn't get home until 3.00, so it must have been a good time. 

I told Phyliss I was meeting friends 'under the clocks' before going somewhere for lunch. He asked where was that. I replied it was public transport related and he straight away he came back with the correct answer. He is just so smart. 

So what does 'under the clocks' mean?

It means that you meet at the steps under the clocks at Melbourne Flinders Street Station. If your friend is late arriving, you might sit on the steps.

The clocks show the next departure time for most suburban train lines, as kind of an encouragement to dodge through moving traffic to catch your train. I've not looked closely at them for years but I do know they are now electronically connected to the train company's operation system. Into the 1980s they were manually adjusted by a person with a long stick. It was proposed to replace them with modern screens, but so great was the outcry, they were kept. I think very young people might struggle nowadays with clock faces, rather than digital. 

Meeting under the clocks has become somewhat redundant in the age of instant personal communication, yet plenty still do, and then one yet to arrive person will call their friend to say, I am five minutes away, when they are at least fifteen minutes away. I hear it on trams all the time. I am five minutes away, when I know very well they ten minutes away.

Photo from Alamy.com There are three more clocks to the left of this photo. 

Sparks, a bump and a foursome

I am not sure where these clips were first published, and so I cannot credit them. Claim them as yours if you will.

The Gold Coast railway line was suspended after this moron made damage, with quite a good electric flash display.

Sydney reintroduced trams in 1997 with this model. While it looks old fashioned, the mostly Australian made tram and its sisters were retired long before the normal lifespan of tram, say 30 years. It is a pity the video is cut short. Clearly the tram derailed as it left I guess the terrific Sydney Tram Museum shed. 

The annual NSW Hunter Valley steam train race exceeded itself this year.