A touch of spring in mid-winter

Daffodiles are in the shops again. Not in my garden but it is lovely to see their bright blooms on the edge of the grey footpath on a grey day. It is very wintery here in Melbourne and now spring has come to my hallway.

Winter - Veg Out Community Garden - St Kilda

The Veg Out Community Garden can be fun but this morning this dear old bullock was standing, looking more forlorn than usual, as he watched the world through his wire cage - any moment he is going to give a heart rendering Mooooooo.

He has a purpose. He is succesful in scaring off the possums - the Silverbeet growing around him is flourishing. These beautifully healthy plants haven't a nibble between them.

Look at it. Ready to pick and cook

In my backyard garden, further down the road, the local possums have eaten all the leaves from my silverbeet, leaving the stems as a reminder of what could have been. But then I haven't got a bullock.

Pigeons taking a liking to Cafe Food

A cold day in South Melbourne and the pigeons have their eyes on the outside tables at Gas Cafe on Coventry Street. The diners had only just stepped away when these three descended.

Is the standing pigeon being polite or is he making a judgement call as to whether the food is to his liking??

Pink Blue Gum flowers

It is very wintery here in melbourne with misty days and grey skies. In the suburb where I am working these beautiful gum flowers break through the morning fog in a glorious pink burst.Mid winter would seem an unlikely time for them come into flower but it is wonderful that they do so. They are incredibly beautiful and such a contrast to the weather.

Summer Hours - movie review

The Siblings in Summer Hours

We saw the movie ‘Summer Hours” last week. I have decided that I need to put up an outline of the story before I discuss it. Reading this synopsis doesn’t spoil the film because most of it becomes clear in the first fifteen or twenty minutes but it does give an idea what all the interactions are about and this film is a film about working through events – ‘a slice of life’ if you like
For her 75th birthday, Helene's (Edith Scob) sons, Frederic (Charles Berling) and Jeremie (Jeremie Renier), bring their wives Lisa (Dominique Reymond) and Angela (Valerie Bonneton) plus their respective children, and her daughter Adrienne (Juliette Binoche) flies in from America. The widowed Helene lives in the country house of famous artist the late Paul Berthier, whose works and collection of antiques has to be passed on appropriately after her death. Indeed, it's not long before the siblings have to face this reality, made complicated by their differing needs. Carving up the estate, especially the house, brings out their different lifestyles and wishes. Teenage granddaughter Sylvie (Alice de Lencquesaing) comes to understand the importance of her late grandmother and the role the house played in her life.
This is a very French film; at least I found it so. I have read that it has been described as a mature film by an accomplished director. I am happy to believe this and I am happy to believe that the characters all behave in a very French way. Their reactions to situations are reactions that I wouldn’t expect to find within a New Zealand or Australian family. This made the film more interesting but less satisfying as it was hard to identify with them. Looking at another culture is always interesting and of course the French are fascinating.
To show just how little we do understand the culture there were times when some the characters laughed out loud. Neither my friend (a good Australian) and I could see the joke. For example Frederic and Lisa were in the café of the Musee d’Orsay discussing their children having a party when they both burst into ‘rolling around the floor type’ of laughter.
If anyone knows what was so funny do tell me.
At the end of the film I felt I had had a very beautiful visual experience and on a chilly late autumn evening that is a pleasure in itself. However I felt let down at the end and I can only put that down to all the people being so civilized and nice that they were unreal. It would not be stretching it to say they were bland. Maybe it was the culture
Another cultural difference I found interesting was the attitude of the two siblings who were planning to make their lives overseas. Not once did they say “of course France will still be home” or “I’ll always be French” or words to that effect. I believe Australian and New Zealanders would have needed to state that out loud to prevent themselves feeling guilt about leaving their country of birth; perhaps it just an unfortunate habit we have.

Microwaves and Blackbirds

Christmas and New Year have passed and so has January and I worked. Well I worked for all those days that aren’t public holidays. Now I am on holiday. It is a great feeling to label time off as a holiday. It takes away the need to do anything constructive.

Today my microwave died. The sticker on the back tells me that I purchase it from L V Martin on the 6th of May 1989. It was a Mitsubishi. I believe I need to make that point because these days nothing is expected to last for 20 years! During that time it has moved countries and has been in use everyday. I have bought a Panasonic Microwave with a
two year guarantee but I bet the makers aren’t expecting or even wanting it to last 20 years. I didn’t see any Mitsubishis which may mean they are not available any more or they are marketed under a different name

I sat outside to read the microwave instruction booklet – 20 years has made some changes but not as many as you would expect. The local retarded bird joined me.

There has been a family of black birds around here who love sitting on the TV antenna singing. Dad is a beautiful black with an orange beak and Mum that dull brown that tends to make her invisible. They hold their own in this inner city area dominated by the squawk of Miners and the cooing of Pigeons.

Recently a brown adolescent bird has hung around them squawking. He opens his mouth and lets out what can only be described as a high bleat. These come at regular intervals. I have listened to see if there is a rhythm. But just when I think I have discerned one, the bleats change in tempo. There is stamina there. He can stay in the same place for up to half an hour with his mouth opening and shutting and the pathetic sound coming from it.

I thought he was one of the black bird family. He is quite large, bigger and older than a fledgling which is why he seems retarded. Yesterday evening I noticed a very slight white tip on his tail and I can see he is going to grow into a miner bird. I have become fond of him. He has become part of the local ambience.

This is one of the most striking gum trees I have seen in my local area. It is the grey of the branches that hold the nuts that make it a stand out – quite beautiful. I am continually amazed at how many varieties of gum there are.

Slumdog Millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire

Am I the only one who was shocked at the brutality and torture at the beginning of this movie?

I read a number of reviews before I went to the movie and more since I have seen it. None of them mention the physical shock of seeing a quiet gentle man brutalized in the first few scenes.

People where I live are singing the praises of the movie. They delight in the use of the two languages, “It makes it more authentic,” they say. “And the scenes in the slums are so realistic you can almost smell them,” these are aspect that score points.

The acting is to be admired and the beautiful expressive eyes, especially on the children are heart melting. No one mentions the scene where horror takes over and one set of beautiful eyes is blinded so the child can better earn money as a beggar.

Are these two events: the torture of a person from the slums and the blinding of a child from a low socioeconomic group so common in India that they don’t require mention?

I would like to think that both episodes were part of the film because the director Danny Boyle wanted the world to be know that that is how life is lived ( and suffered) by the majority of Indians.

I believe that his 1995 movie, ‘Trainspotting’, helped introduce many of us to the horrors of the world of drug dependency. In Slumdog Millionaire the Slumdog (Jamal Malik) appears to accept that he should have to put up with torture from the authorities – perhaps put up with any cruelty that comes his way. As he has success after success on the Indian version of ‘Who wants to be a Millionaire’ he becomes a national hero but this makes no difference to the police and the brutal tactics they use to try to get him to admit he is cheating.

I really wonder why people don’t comment on this aspect of the award winning movie? Perhaps we don’t want to focus on such a negative aspect and it certainly is a great film?

If Danny Boyle gets an Oscar I will be the first to cheer.