Melbourne Day 3

This is Brunswick street.

It's an extremely LONG street by small country village standards and we walked the length of it several times. There were so many boutique / alternative (as they say) shops in this area of Melbourne and we LOVED them. Clothes shops, factory outlets, perfumery, coffee, boots, art, coffee, junk, goth, coffee... You catcha ma drift....

After shopping, we ventured back to South Wharf, hoping to see the movie "Hereafter".  The girls went to buy the tickets, but were told that the whole cinema was booked out privately.  And so - a dash for a tram, then another, then a train and we stepped off the station at South Yarra.  The streets were packed full of people, bustling down narrow pavements. After a (very) brisk walk, we arrived at The Jam Factory (a mall) and on entering couldn't fail to see a Stan Laurel look alike figure hanging from the big hand of the massive suspended clock.

I could do with this skylight at home.  I'd need a mansion to house it, though.

The city is beautiful at night.  Full of lights and stained glass windows  and solid stone decorative buildings like this one on Collins Street:

And this one, too....

And finally, bronze statues offering the European flair (and Atlas)

Melbourne Room With A View

View from our hotel room, early morning, City of Melbourne:

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part c)

 In which we - yes - we talked to the (stuffed) animals.... Hey, let's sing it now:
"We are the world"

 "We are the children"

"We are the ones who make a brighter day"

"So let's start giving"

"There's a choice we're making"

"We're (not) saving our own lives"

"It's true - we'll make a better day"

"Just you and me"

"la la la la la la......."

"Just you and meeee........"

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part b)

Just inside the museum's doors stands this early 1920's van.  I couldn't help but think of my mam, as she had to drive a laundry van at the young age of 14.  She always knew that she could run much faster than the van, but felt priviledged to drive it anyway. 

Through into the science section, we passed through a series of dinosaurs.  Like this party animal overhead:

...And this well-grounded bro down below.  Either way, they creep me out and it's a good job they don't roam the earth today. 

The Machinist took my camera and snapped this shot of me.  Need I say more?

Up close to one of the specimins.  Even though they were behind glass, and most were dead, it would still be "Goodnight" for me if one was to fall on me, or take a stroll over my foot or land in my hair.  I can't even begin to imagine one landing in my hair.  I've got goosies just thinking about it.

Now these crawlies I don't mind watching.  They were alive and well and eating their nom noms. They are the good guys, munching away at dead tissue and thereby cleaning the bones.  Friends of the Curator dot com.

When their bellies are truly full and feasting comes to an end, this is the type of finish they end up with.  Oh and by the way - this is the skeleton of a magpie. (I just can't imagine this guy swooping me)

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part a)

We knew we wanted to visit the museum, but didn't know that it resided right next door to the Imax Cinema.  Not sure what the girls are engrossed in, but would you look at the Machinist?  He's checking out the general fabrication.  Again.

The huge Rubik's cube in front of Imax cinema

We actually thought that this building was the museum.  It's not.  It's Australia's first Parliament House.  For your information and interest, of course.

Check out Parliament's dome.  These old buildings never cease to amaze me.  They had less, worked harder, and the buildings were greater by FAR.

Alas, we came for the museum, and here it is.  Excitement! (I'm such a nerd)

Melbourne Trip Day 1

We recently flew to Melbourne on an overdue, longed for and promised mini getaway.  Arriving early in the morning, we dropped off our bags at the hotel and took a tram over to Queen Victoria Market, housed under a massive awning type structure.  The Machinist just HAD to check out the welds, angles, ID and OD thicknesses, as well as comment on the magnificent radiuses used 'back in those days...."

I was there for the food, especially the cherries at $3.99 per kg.  We pay around $15 per kg in our neck o' the woods. (I sound like my mother).

While the girls were enthralled by artists and handsome thickset Kiwi men, the Machinist and I had a coffee here:

 
Later in the day, we took a taxi over to South Wharf and the Crown Casino, DFO shopping, dinner and movies (The Next Three Days)

Floods

First the fires.  Now the floods. 

I have dear friends - isolated and marooned in their homes - unable to escape by themselves, waiting for the State Emergency Services to rescue them.  Depending on a rescue, when all the time -not knowing if this is possible due to continuing weather conditions.

Such devastation puts everything into perspective.


Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Miller-Carters, those of the Murray Cod stock...xxx

Aquatic Drones: Good Guys Really

One of the toilets at the Shop wasn't flushing with as much passion as it usually flushes.  On inspection, the Machinist discovered that the submersible pump in Number Two Septic Tank wasn't working and grey water was building up and not seeping away quick enough - therefore, causing a sort of septic regurgitation. 

He came into the kitchen to tell us that he had fixed the problem. "...and Doll, you should see the creatures we have in the septic tanks..."

The three of us looked up, waiting for more information.

"What?"

"The tanks"

"The pumps are  fixed"

"No, the creatures...."

"You don't wanna be lookin'...."

The Kitchen procession began - out of the back door across to the septic tanks. 

Rattailed Maggots and lest you think the tail is - well - the tail.  It's not.  It's their breathing tube.

A Bloke's Best Friend

The front lawn had grown beyond recognition. It needed whipper snipper action before a conventional mower could have any effect. Even the path between the lawn and the house had lanky dandelions and grass roots emerging from the soft soil. Time was sparse and the Machinist moved swiftly, swinging his arms from left to right with skill, ravaging the rogue greenery - now bulbous and (almost) bursting with new life. Prolific seeds, waiting anxiously for their marching orders.
Suddenly, a pebble, lifted by the green chord shot up and hit the tall window. A crack, then another. Within seconds, the whole pane fragmented, but held in place.

That night, I heard crackling sounds. They woke me. By morning time, the Machinist had had enough of my ramblings about how the glass in the sliding door might "...suddenly burst and like shrapnel, disperse through our unsuspecting bodies...". He marched outside with bucket and broom, and 'relieved' the heaving pane. Not having enough time to clear up thousands of pieces of glass, the remains lay just outside our bedroom door.... waiting to be swept up 'later on'.

It's quite a few weeks later and the window has not been fixed. Instead, a huge piece of laminated cardboard protects us from the 'elements' (loud birdsong, loud cat crying and loud possum scrapping). On cooler nights, the wind almost whistles as the board flaps.

"Would you check that it's still in place? It sounds as if it's loose..."

The Machinist lifts the curtains to check his handiwork.

"It's fine. I'll get the glass man over tomorrow...Anyway, the Duct Tape's still in place..."

Thunderstorms and Flooding

We were up at 4am two Friday nights ago - sweeping water out of the Workshop.  Then again last Friday.  This time, though, it was more than the average flooding; brown rainwater came in from both ends of the property.  The creek at the bottom of our garden had risen so high, there was exactly three inches between the water level and the Workshop's concrete floor.  The Machinist's brand new 'thousands of dollars' new machinery sat 10 metres away from facing the dreaded 'wet feet'. 

The Machinist, the girls and I had spent the afternoon packing hundreds of sandbags in preparation of what was looming in the late afternoon sky.  We were still filling, lifting, carting and dragging the heavy, (already)wet sacks when the storm began. 

Equipped with several pumps, we attempted to suck the water away from the Workshop and pump it back into the creek.  We'd made calls to the State Emergency Services, as well as our local Fire Brigade, to no avail. 

"It's not just a back-yard shed," I pleaded "It's our bread and butter..."

I was so proud of my family that night.  Our girls were real troopers, lugging sand bags on their shoulders, placing them around the perimeter of our property, through the trees, orchard, chicken coop and barn, bitten by bugs, treading on slugs (and having slugs stuck on their skin....yeowww).

You never know what you can do until you have to do it...

**On a sad note - we haven't seen Rognon since the storms.  We can only presume she and her kittens were marooned someplace along the creek**