Winter! Today was grey, overcast, cold, windy and wet. On such a day my mind wanders around food. The boring lunch I brought from home wasn’t enough. I needed something else. A treat. Something to lift the day. My mind finally settled on the rather greasy but delicious feta and spinach scones that are sold at the Special Cake Shop on Chapel Street.
Special Cake Shop is written alongside a Greek word that may also say special. I’m told the shop has been there forever and in some ways it is special. An elderly, very vibrant and charming Greek man runs it. He serves at the counter, charms the women who come in and sits and sips coffee and chats with customers. One day I heard someone ask him that old, old question,
“Why don’t you retire and leave it to the younger generation?”
He answered immediately “What would I do al day? This is my life.”
Since then I’ve watched him and it is his life. I love being served by him. He’s always smiling. The cakes are wonderful especially the Greeks ones. I wonder if he cooks, too? Probably not.
I’d give the muffins a miss if I were you but if you need a rich grease shot on a cold day, grab one of these scones. If you think of 'scone' in an English sense you’ll look for the wrong thing. This is about the size of a saucer and oozes spinach, onion and feta. They’re usually in the window but you can buy them warm from the pie-warmer. I did that today and watched the grease marks form on the bag. The scone was delicious. The day suddenly improved, too. There are days when a shot of rich grease is essential.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Comment!
Some of you have been reading my blog. Well, the numbers who visit my site go up. But no one has commented!!
Did you read it?
Have you liked it?
Were you bored?
Would you find it again?
What should I do to make it more interesting?
I want to know that I’m connecting with you. Part of writing a blog is indulgence but a big part is to communicate. To make contact
PLEASE SAY SOMETHING
If you’re bored say BORING.
If you read it and have nothing to say – that’s Okay. I’ll keep writing without your comments but feedback is great. As they say even a bad review is better than being ignored!
I have just watched the wonderful British TV programme New Tricks. It’s the highlight of my viewing week. It is so good to watch these old codgers using their skills to achieve and to work as a team. My only grouch and it’s a big one, is that Superintendent Pullman is the only woman. Amanda Redman who plays the part is approximately 47 years old as compared with James Bolan, 68, who plays Jack Halford. Where’s the clever stylish older woman? We need to see her on the screen. Older doesn’t mean 50. I’m talking 60+.
This was a particularly good episode where an 18 year old girl was kidnapped back in 1992. Great humour - sometimes laughing out loud funny and a great resolution. Just the thing for a cold winter night.
Did you read it?
Have you liked it?
Were you bored?
Would you find it again?
What should I do to make it more interesting?
I want to know that I’m connecting with you. Part of writing a blog is indulgence but a big part is to communicate. To make contact
PLEASE SAY SOMETHING
If you’re bored say BORING.
If you read it and have nothing to say – that’s Okay. I’ll keep writing without your comments but feedback is great. As they say even a bad review is better than being ignored!
I have just watched the wonderful British TV programme New Tricks. It’s the highlight of my viewing week. It is so good to watch these old codgers using their skills to achieve and to work as a team. My only grouch and it’s a big one, is that Superintendent Pullman is the only woman. Amanda Redman who plays the part is approximately 47 years old as compared with James Bolan, 68, who plays Jack Halford. Where’s the clever stylish older woman? We need to see her on the screen. Older doesn’t mean 50. I’m talking 60+.
This was a particularly good episode where an 18 year old girl was kidnapped back in 1992. Great humour - sometimes laughing out loud funny and a great resolution. Just the thing for a cold winter night.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
The Disappearing Property
How can a property disappear on a cold still evening in June 2007?
I had the address, the code for the gate and instructions that the key was in the letterbox. I was in South Yarra at the end of the day to view a property that we are to manage. There was no gate to punch in a key code and no letterbox to collect a key. It was becoming dark and the streets lights were on - the street numbers harder to see. Number 27 was definitely not there Workers headed home. Dogs and their owners returned from Fawkner Park. Number 27 did not make it home while I was there.
Lights flicker on in the front rooms of the houses and units and bright televisions screens beamed out. In one room a large glass of white wine waited on a pale wood table. In another a couple leaned on a kitchen bench, talking.
I remember a train journey in Korea where the tracks snaked through a high-rise complex. The train windows offered flashes of the world inside the units. People sat on the floor in front of television sets, kitchens had benches stacked high with dishes, a huge elaborate bed dominated one room and another had pictures and mats but no furniture. These tiny private views came and went as the train stopped, slowed and speed away. It was as if I had been absorbed in these rooms for that fleeting moment. I wanted more. I wanted to stay longer.
Today I saw a world that was like mine. Cosy and familiar. Then I was back in my car and heading down Chapel Street. The shop lights lit up squares of pavement and people surged up and down the footpath.
At home I put on my lights and pulled my blinds. I’m selfish. I keep my life away from the passer-by. I don’t want to share. I put the heater on high and felt cosseted. This is my house. I no longer rent and on a night like tonight the house embraces me.
S, my little cat, crouched by her food and I crouched beside her to encourage her to eat. She wandered to the heater. As far as I can judge she has eaten nothing today. I’ll try an appetite enhancer to night.
I pour myself a glass of red wine. Let others have white. Tomorrow, I need to find Number 27 and take photos of it.
I had the address, the code for the gate and instructions that the key was in the letterbox. I was in South Yarra at the end of the day to view a property that we are to manage. There was no gate to punch in a key code and no letterbox to collect a key. It was becoming dark and the streets lights were on - the street numbers harder to see. Number 27 was definitely not there Workers headed home. Dogs and their owners returned from Fawkner Park. Number 27 did not make it home while I was there.
Lights flicker on in the front rooms of the houses and units and bright televisions screens beamed out. In one room a large glass of white wine waited on a pale wood table. In another a couple leaned on a kitchen bench, talking.
I remember a train journey in Korea where the tracks snaked through a high-rise complex. The train windows offered flashes of the world inside the units. People sat on the floor in front of television sets, kitchens had benches stacked high with dishes, a huge elaborate bed dominated one room and another had pictures and mats but no furniture. These tiny private views came and went as the train stopped, slowed and speed away. It was as if I had been absorbed in these rooms for that fleeting moment. I wanted more. I wanted to stay longer.
Today I saw a world that was like mine. Cosy and familiar. Then I was back in my car and heading down Chapel Street. The shop lights lit up squares of pavement and people surged up and down the footpath.
At home I put on my lights and pulled my blinds. I’m selfish. I keep my life away from the passer-by. I don’t want to share. I put the heater on high and felt cosseted. This is my house. I no longer rent and on a night like tonight the house embraces me.
S, my little cat, crouched by her food and I crouched beside her to encourage her to eat. She wandered to the heater. As far as I can judge she has eaten nothing today. I’ll try an appetite enhancer to night.
I pour myself a glass of red wine. Let others have white. Tomorrow, I need to find Number 27 and take photos of it.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
My Internet has been down for most of the evening so I spent the time taking photos of my pictures.I think this frame has improved the Search Lamp. It has not been revitalized into something really stunning but it’s better. Scroll back (May 28th) to see how it looked before and let me know what you think.
The other photo is of a picture I had framed earlier in the year. Once it was a New Zealand Post poster. You can see the logo on the side of the engine. I was back in NZ a few months ago and saw it pinned on the wall of a wonderfully friendly second hand book shop at Paekakariki Beach. The owner said she hadn’t thought of selling it and had even forgotten it was there. I paid $5.00 and brought it home. Framed it is stunning and I always know it is “there”. The choice of frame was a success!!! This is why I went back to the same framer.
I have brought a huge variety of food for S. I had a basket full of all the things that might have gravy and therefore easy to eat. So far S’s tongue has touched the Meaty Flavoured Chunks. Lots of gravy in that. She has also drunk some water. She is so light that in bed I can lean over and scoop her up and put her on the bed in one single movement. She no longer jumps. The spring has gone from her legs. She purrs when she gets onto the bed and I can drift off to sleep with the sound of her soft purr.
I’ve just soaked in hot fragrant bath. There is a sort of guilt about having a bath instead of a shower these days but at the moment the rain is pouring down so some of the water is being replaced. I went to the gym this evening and worked hard with a new instructor. The bath was very therapeutic.
.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
This is S two weeks ago. Since then she has taken a turn for the worse. She’s reverting to the cat she was when I first started writing this blog.
It’s cold this morning. My kitchen is wonderfully warm and so is the hall and I’m sure the area where my desk is should be warmer but the heat is staying away. I will need another heater if the weather gets any colder. There is the problem of S’s door that has to be permanently open so she doesn’t have to push it to go out. I have hung an old camouflage-coloured poncho liner over it. This once belonged to the American Army. It amazes me that I still have it after all these years. It has come in very useful. I have been using it to keep cat fur off things. It is nylon so the fur doesn’t stick. Poor S her fur is coming out as never before and the fur that remains attached to her skin forms a sort of felted mat, especially on hips and tummy, that has to be shaved off at the vets. She has her deformed claws cut at the same time. Her life has become sleeping and wondering if she will eat something and mostly, deciding that she won’t. This sort of thinking keeps her as light as a feather. She hasn’t eaten for a couple of days. I have some appetite enhancement tables that have worked in the past and I gave her one last night. It hasn’t encouraged her to eat anything. I’ll give another to her before I go to work and leave some food out. It is as if she wants to die… just slowly fade away. How to stop her and change her thinking??
Fog
Living in Melbourne for the last few days has been a surreal experience. A damp fog covered everything. It’s cold and dangerous but quite beautiful. There’s a wonderful view of the city in fog as you drive down St Kilda Road and into St Kilda Junction to make a right onto Dandenong Road.
Tuesday was this week’s Monday in Property Management. Queen’s Birthday holiday meant there was more chance of emergency call outs, leaking hot water tanks, power problems and oddly, problems with alarms to deal with on our return to work. Then for those people who had a miserable weekend it is a chance to think of things they don’t like about the place they’re renting and ring up and complain. Owners tend to dwell on issues that annoy them about their tenants. One owner had been mulling over how much compensation he should charge the tenants for a few small black marks on a skirting board.
I visited a property on Tuesday morning with another Landlord who also had been mulling over things in the weekend. He asked me to view the walls from different angles and sure enough in different lights some discoloration could be detected. These tenants had left a cupboard full crockery and cutlery behind. This often happens. I’m amazed people don’t go round and check everything when they finally leave.
The fog can change and soften lights and show the city scape as if it was a picture in a child's story book it can also be cold and bleak. The highlight of the week for me was dinner at the Indian Harvest café in Waverely Road, East Malvern. At 7.45 when we arrived it was packed and it was as well we had booked. By 9.30 the place was empty and we were the only people left. A strange feeling to be the only dinners so early in the evening. The food was good although fairly standard fare. The deserts were the most interesting. Try the Gulab Jamun - milk powder dumplings in light rose flavoured syrup and the Kheer – rice pudding. We shared and the two went stunningly together. It’s worth a trip. It’s licensed and B.Y.O. But keep in mind that if you take your own wine they charge $2.00 a head corkage. There were six of us and they charged $12.00 to open the one bottle of wine someone had brought even though I drank beer and not wine.
Home though the fog.
Tuesday was this week’s Monday in Property Management. Queen’s Birthday holiday meant there was more chance of emergency call outs, leaking hot water tanks, power problems and oddly, problems with alarms to deal with on our return to work. Then for those people who had a miserable weekend it is a chance to think of things they don’t like about the place they’re renting and ring up and complain. Owners tend to dwell on issues that annoy them about their tenants. One owner had been mulling over how much compensation he should charge the tenants for a few small black marks on a skirting board.
I visited a property on Tuesday morning with another Landlord who also had been mulling over things in the weekend. He asked me to view the walls from different angles and sure enough in different lights some discoloration could be detected. These tenants had left a cupboard full crockery and cutlery behind. This often happens. I’m amazed people don’t go round and check everything when they finally leave.
The fog can change and soften lights and show the city scape as if it was a picture in a child's story book it can also be cold and bleak. The highlight of the week for me was dinner at the Indian Harvest café in Waverely Road, East Malvern. At 7.45 when we arrived it was packed and it was as well we had booked. By 9.30 the place was empty and we were the only people left. A strange feeling to be the only dinners so early in the evening. The food was good although fairly standard fare. The deserts were the most interesting. Try the Gulab Jamun - milk powder dumplings in light rose flavoured syrup and the Kheer – rice pudding. We shared and the two went stunningly together. It’s worth a trip. It’s licensed and B.Y.O. But keep in mind that if you take your own wine they charge $2.00 a head corkage. There were six of us and they charged $12.00 to open the one bottle of wine someone had brought even though I drank beer and not wine.
Home though the fog.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Carlton North - La Porchetta
The three day Queen’s birthday weekend is over. How quickly it passes!
I love to explore Melbourne and I still get lost and disorientated as I did in Essendon recently. But I feel a warm glow of belonging when I know where I am going. I know the way to the Rathdowne Street and the clutter of shops and restaurants in Carlton North.
I have a fellow Melbourne explorer in N and about a year ago we found the area. “Wow” we said, grinned and drifted through the shops, tried on a few clothes and finally lunched at the La Porchetta Pizza Restaurant. N suggested a return this weekend. The Queen’s Birthday holiday on Monday gives the weekend the luxury of ease and time. Carlton North is an interesting spot on the Melbourne landscape and hard to describe. ‘Eclectic’ was the word N used. I couldn’t do better.
The sun came out as we parked and we wandered through the shops. I bought a designer scarf and N some amazingly beautiful wrapping paper. The area is bulging with interesting cafes and restaurants. They were all busy so the food has to be good. N and I are experts on the La Porchetta chain and the Carlton North is the best we’ve been to.
On our first visit the décor stunned us. We just gaped. It’s in your face Motorbikes. Full sized bikes even hang from a ceiling covered in motorbike pictures and memorabilia as is every available spot on the walls.
I’ve never seen anything like it and I love it. And, and it is a big AND. The food is the BEST we have had at a La Porchetta. We talk from experience. I can tell you the worst La Porchetta and also those that can be graded up and down from there.. Just ask me. We sat outside under a heater, sipped wine, relaxed, talked and we knew we would be back there sometime.
Carlton North is worth the trip if it's only for the La Porchetta – check it out sometime.
I love to explore Melbourne and I still get lost and disorientated as I did in Essendon recently. But I feel a warm glow of belonging when I know where I am going. I know the way to the Rathdowne Street and the clutter of shops and restaurants in Carlton North.
I have a fellow Melbourne explorer in N and about a year ago we found the area. “Wow” we said, grinned and drifted through the shops, tried on a few clothes and finally lunched at the La Porchetta Pizza Restaurant. N suggested a return this weekend. The Queen’s Birthday holiday on Monday gives the weekend the luxury of ease and time. Carlton North is an interesting spot on the Melbourne landscape and hard to describe. ‘Eclectic’ was the word N used. I couldn’t do better.
The sun came out as we parked and we wandered through the shops. I bought a designer scarf and N some amazingly beautiful wrapping paper. The area is bulging with interesting cafes and restaurants. They were all busy so the food has to be good. N and I are experts on the La Porchetta chain and the Carlton North is the best we’ve been to.
On our first visit the décor stunned us. We just gaped. It’s in your face Motorbikes. Full sized bikes even hang from a ceiling covered in motorbike pictures and memorabilia as is every available spot on the walls.
I’ve never seen anything like it and I love it. And, and it is a big AND. The food is the BEST we have had at a La Porchetta. We talk from experience. I can tell you the worst La Porchetta and also those that can be graded up and down from there.. Just ask me. We sat outside under a heater, sipped wine, relaxed, talked and we knew we would be back there sometime.
Carlton North is worth the trip if it's only for the La Porchetta – check it out sometime.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Hi
I went to an interesting discussion this week by three crime writers called “Mean Streets of Melbourne” I think I enjoyed the experience of getting there as much as the actual discussion.
I was late leaving work. Held up by a tenant who was angry about the non-removal of a possum from the roof of his unit. He lives on the 3rd floor and a possum (it seems only one) ventures into the roof cavity some evenings and dances. The possum is such an enthusiastic dancer it wakes up the tenants. The tenants have been unable to come to grips with the thought it could be a privilege to live in the inner city and still having wild life about them. They want it removed. We have been consulting with the Body Corporate since mid March regarding its removal. The wheels in Body Corporate Offices turn very slowly. Meanwhile the possum continues to dance. I have been wary about suggesting the tenants wear earplugs. It could be considered that I am not taking it seriously. If the tenants complain that that was my solution I will be seen as not being professional. Ah….. the rights of the tenants!!. A cherry picker is needed for the job and its arrival has been postponed for various reasons.
The tenant and his feelings about the possum delayed me so it was dark when I parked my car and boarded a tram. It’s strange how we view night and day. At 6.20 the tram rattle across the Yarra River and all the buildings were lit up and sparkling in the water and the trees along St Kilda Road were bright with lights. It was Night. Three months ago the sun would have been out and it would still have been part of the day.
Kerry Greenwood, Shane Maloney and Garry Disher were talking about their books set in Melbourne. I haven’t read Gary Disher but his books appear to be set on the Peninsular and not the Mean Streets of Melbourne. Shane Maloney said when he first started to write he was very careful to be accurate and once he changed a whole scene because he found that sitting at the bar window where his ‘solver of crimes was sitting’ he wouldn’t have been able to view the murder scene as his hero had done. He changed the sequence. Now he would leave it – a sort of "authors license” I suppose. He then said that he got letters from people who pointed out he had got some fact about Melbourne wrong,. I would be one of those people. If someone got a 96 tram and I knew the route I would be irritated to find they got off in the wrong part of to the city. It’s a sudden hurdle you have to cross before you can resume reading.
Of course for people who don’t live here it is the ambience they are soaking up as I would soak up the ambience of a book set in New York or Paris.
Going into the city in the dark was stunning. The lights of the city always hit my senses like a jolt of lightening – yes a jolt of lightening. To me the light show is spectacular and offers a glimpse of some unattainable world – a world of glitter and glamour. During the day it is the shapes against the sky that is the visual feast.
I have checked on the picture framing this week. It seems the frame it is out of stock. I half-heartedly suggested a different one. The framer who pushed this frame said it would only be a couple of weeks and it would be worth waiting for. I do hope so. I have great hopes for this picture.
I went to an interesting discussion this week by three crime writers called “Mean Streets of Melbourne” I think I enjoyed the experience of getting there as much as the actual discussion.
I was late leaving work. Held up by a tenant who was angry about the non-removal of a possum from the roof of his unit. He lives on the 3rd floor and a possum (it seems only one) ventures into the roof cavity some evenings and dances. The possum is such an enthusiastic dancer it wakes up the tenants. The tenants have been unable to come to grips with the thought it could be a privilege to live in the inner city and still having wild life about them. They want it removed. We have been consulting with the Body Corporate since mid March regarding its removal. The wheels in Body Corporate Offices turn very slowly. Meanwhile the possum continues to dance. I have been wary about suggesting the tenants wear earplugs. It could be considered that I am not taking it seriously. If the tenants complain that that was my solution I will be seen as not being professional. Ah….. the rights of the tenants!!. A cherry picker is needed for the job and its arrival has been postponed for various reasons.
The tenant and his feelings about the possum delayed me so it was dark when I parked my car and boarded a tram. It’s strange how we view night and day. At 6.20 the tram rattle across the Yarra River and all the buildings were lit up and sparkling in the water and the trees along St Kilda Road were bright with lights. It was Night. Three months ago the sun would have been out and it would still have been part of the day.
Kerry Greenwood, Shane Maloney and Garry Disher were talking about their books set in Melbourne. I haven’t read Gary Disher but his books appear to be set on the Peninsular and not the Mean Streets of Melbourne. Shane Maloney said when he first started to write he was very careful to be accurate and once he changed a whole scene because he found that sitting at the bar window where his ‘solver of crimes was sitting’ he wouldn’t have been able to view the murder scene as his hero had done. He changed the sequence. Now he would leave it – a sort of "authors license” I suppose. He then said that he got letters from people who pointed out he had got some fact about Melbourne wrong,. I would be one of those people. If someone got a 96 tram and I knew the route I would be irritated to find they got off in the wrong part of to the city. It’s a sudden hurdle you have to cross before you can resume reading.
Of course for people who don’t live here it is the ambience they are soaking up as I would soak up the ambience of a book set in New York or Paris.
Going into the city in the dark was stunning. The lights of the city always hit my senses like a jolt of lightening – yes a jolt of lightening. To me the light show is spectacular and offers a glimpse of some unattainable world – a world of glitter and glamour. During the day it is the shapes against the sky that is the visual feast.
I have checked on the picture framing this week. It seems the frame it is out of stock. I half-heartedly suggested a different one. The framer who pushed this frame said it would only be a couple of weeks and it would be worth waiting for. I do hope so. I have great hopes for this picture.
Monday, June 4, 2007
My poor little cat has been attacked. Her territory was invaded. I heard the sound of a catfight and rushed outside to hear a cat scrambling along the top of the fence and over the shed.
I knew this wasn’t S. She can’t climb any more. My flashlight needs a new battery so I switched on all my house lights to shine outside and found here sitting against the side gate. I stroked her and talked to her but she didn’t more. Frozen! I let her come inside in her own time. Her time was about an hour. She limped and got straight into her bed. I think she has spent all today in her bed and is now walking very slowly with a limp.
I would like to think she had won the bout but it seems unlikely. She’s too old and too weak. I want to see this other cat and hose it down – how dare it invade our space. I feel such concern for S having to struggle with this invader – and I can’t make it right for her.
While I was waiting for S I drifted through the photos of my mother’s beach. This one was taken in the late afternoon. Tomorrow I’ll clear my head at St Kilda Beach and the gym.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Solitude
Since I saw the movie My Best Friend I have been thinking about being alone and how it differs from loneliness. The word ‘solitude’ has such a beautiful sound and it is a state that can be very healing and strengthening.I was back in NZ recently and walked on my mother’s local beach. I have walked there alone over many years. Sometimes I would be the only person especially in the early morning. My only companion would be a small dog leaping after sea gulls and racing ahead of me.
I brought back pictures this time so when I’m feeling stressed or anxious I can look at them and try to recapture the spirit of the area.
In the early morning the beach can look just like this. In the winter the frost can crisp up the sand by the trees.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
June begins
June 2nd
June has started well. My cat, S, is still living and I still have a job. My performance was to be reviewed at the end of May. Nobody has said anything to me. I thought it was in my interest not to bring the topic up.
As the final week of May progressed I did felt on edge. When you expect a meeting about work performance it is difficult be detached.
Yesterday, the first day into June, I went to the gym to work off the job stress. One of the people who care in my life wondered if I had lost my job and that was why I wasn’t answering my phone. I felt loved and supported.
I worked today. The coldest day of the year so far. On Saturday we open rental properties for inspection that are empty. They were freezing today. Some of the people I meet at Opens are lovely and of course later become charming tenants. There were people like that today wrapped up in their coats and scarves.
I have made a chicken pie with chicken that I bought for S - healthy and easily digested, ‘ideal to get her back on her feet’. She’s not eating chicken! The Shoulder Muse kept on at me about not wasting food. I had bought cooked chicken so I had bought a lot. The Muse suggested a chicken pie from the Penguin Cook Book. As I stripped chicken from the bones I listen to ‘Singers or Renown” with John Cargher on Radio National..
Nostalgic. It brought back memories of my first winter in Melbourne. I worked 5 ½ days a week out in Blackburn and on my way home on Saturday afternoon I’d call into the huge Safeway at Ashburton and fill my trolley with a week’s fuel and a large amount of food for Saturday evening’s dinner for my son and myself. Then, I’d push my bulging trolley into the liquor section and buy the evening’s wine. I got home in time for John Cargher’s programme. I listened while I unpacked the produce and began preparation for dinner.
I loved those evenings. John’s choice of music filled the old terraced house. The door to the courtyard let in soft early evening air and pigeons were outlined on the dead tree three houses down. My son twisted the doorbell at 5.00pm. There was the pleasure of knowing he’d be on time and we’d spend several hours chatting. He was a heavy smoker in those days. The table was by the back door and I sat inside with my coat on and the gas-heating heater hissing behind me and he sat outside rocking back on his chair with a glowing cigarette between his fingers.
Today as I listened to John I cooked for tomorrow’s guest and myself. I still cherish the memory of those Saturday evenings. They were the highlight of my week. We usually drank and ate too much but I still managed to get up on Sunday morning and take the week’s washing to the local laundry-matt by 8.30 to ensure two machines were available.
Life has changed for both of us. I work only every 4th Saturday now, I live somewhere else and I have a washing machine, my son doesn’t smoke and his Saturday’s have a different pattern.
The beginning of June has brought some rain. A relaxing and joyous sound in this rain-starved country.
June has started well. My cat, S, is still living and I still have a job. My performance was to be reviewed at the end of May. Nobody has said anything to me. I thought it was in my interest not to bring the topic up.
As the final week of May progressed I did felt on edge. When you expect a meeting about work performance it is difficult be detached.
Yesterday, the first day into June, I went to the gym to work off the job stress. One of the people who care in my life wondered if I had lost my job and that was why I wasn’t answering my phone. I felt loved and supported.
I worked today. The coldest day of the year so far. On Saturday we open rental properties for inspection that are empty. They were freezing today. Some of the people I meet at Opens are lovely and of course later become charming tenants. There were people like that today wrapped up in their coats and scarves.
I have made a chicken pie with chicken that I bought for S - healthy and easily digested, ‘ideal to get her back on her feet’. She’s not eating chicken! The Shoulder Muse kept on at me about not wasting food. I had bought cooked chicken so I had bought a lot. The Muse suggested a chicken pie from the Penguin Cook Book. As I stripped chicken from the bones I listen to ‘Singers or Renown” with John Cargher on Radio National..
Nostalgic. It brought back memories of my first winter in Melbourne. I worked 5 ½ days a week out in Blackburn and on my way home on Saturday afternoon I’d call into the huge Safeway at Ashburton and fill my trolley with a week’s fuel and a large amount of food for Saturday evening’s dinner for my son and myself. Then, I’d push my bulging trolley into the liquor section and buy the evening’s wine. I got home in time for John Cargher’s programme. I listened while I unpacked the produce and began preparation for dinner.
I loved those evenings. John’s choice of music filled the old terraced house. The door to the courtyard let in soft early evening air and pigeons were outlined on the dead tree three houses down. My son twisted the doorbell at 5.00pm. There was the pleasure of knowing he’d be on time and we’d spend several hours chatting. He was a heavy smoker in those days. The table was by the back door and I sat inside with my coat on and the gas-heating heater hissing behind me and he sat outside rocking back on his chair with a glowing cigarette between his fingers.
Today as I listened to John I cooked for tomorrow’s guest and myself. I still cherish the memory of those Saturday evenings. They were the highlight of my week. We usually drank and ate too much but I still managed to get up on Sunday morning and take the week’s washing to the local laundry-matt by 8.30 to ensure two machines were available.
Life has changed for both of us. I work only every 4th Saturday now, I live somewhere else and I have a washing machine, my son doesn’t smoke and his Saturday’s have a different pattern.
The beginning of June has brought some rain. A relaxing and joyous sound in this rain-starved country.
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