I'm exhausted. After a day out with Catherine Deveny, Jenny Valentish and the Gunnas discussing Memoir all day, being in a room with other people, I'm knackered - but it was great. Just being with other people, sharing a common love and goal, people I'd never met before, but bonded with felt wonderful, but it was bloody tiring.
But I'll write on this soon, as I've got other things to write about tonight, as it's the end of the month and it's goal setting day.
So, how did we go this month?
July Goals:
I was a bit kyboshed this month as we were plunged into lockdown on 15 July so it made a few of these things a bit hard. Anyway, here goes.
Read four books.
I managed two and a half. I got through all 38 hours of the audiobook of Hilary Mantel's The Light and the Mirror, and my book group book, Tomasz Jedrowski's Swimming in the Dark. I'm halfway through Sarah Krasnostein's The Trauma Cleaner and I'm still persisting with Andrew Sean Greer's Less. But I'm good with this.
Have the masons' books to the Auditor by the end of the month.
Didn't happen. Tomorrow looks like it's going to be wet. I just need to stubborn myself into this and get the bloody thing done.
Have somebody over for dinner or something
Also didn't happen - we're still not allowed to have people other than care-givers, bubble buddies or intimate partners in your house. So it didn't happen. The Law says it can't happen. C'est la guerre.
Enter the Richell Prize and the Varuna Fellowship competitions
Done. Happier with the latter entry, but it is done. Maybe somebody will see some value in my fledging novel - andyou have to be in it to win it.
Use the gym three times a week
Again, the lockdowns got in the way of this, but I managed to remain active. The gym opened again last Wednesday, but I jacked my knee on Thursday evening. I might to tomorrow to do some upper body stuff. The knee is nearly back to normal, thanks for asking.
Limit discretionary spending
I've been good at this - and will keep this up. Not going into town daily helps keep the bucks in the bank.
Post a black and white photo a day
Done. I love black and white month. Just love it.
Cows in the Bathroom, La Luna Bistro, North Carlton
Dawg, North Carlton
Lucifer on his throne.
And August's Goals.
August is birthday month, so I go light on the goals, because it's birthday month and I give myself some slack.
Anyway, here goes.
Read four books.
I do this most months, so all is good with this.
10,000 steps a day (or an accumulated 310,000 steps over the month)
I've joined a challenge at work - 10,000 steps a day for the month of August for a breast cancer charity. I like challenges like this. It will keep me active - and honest - the Fitbit doesn't lie.
Finish the Masons' books
Yeah yeah, I know. Must stop procrastinating on this one.
The photo below shows the antithesis of a perfect day. Coming back from retrieving a coffee and a mushroom toastie yesterday, I watched as the kamikaze towie came up in front of a random red Mercedes SUV, and worked quickly to scurry the offending car away. The owners will need to pay $361 to get the car out of the clink which is based somewhere in Collingwood. I'm sure the owner of that $150,000 vehicle would be really happy to come back to find it not where he left it. Serves him right for not reading the signs.
Okay, so maybe I've not had a great week at work. Maybe I wanted to be out walking instead of nursing a jacked knee. And it was windy today - I don't like walking in the wind. And nobody is calling me. I've been in crappy, bloody meetings all day.
This perfect day
I can't stop thinking
Are you over there
Are you happy there
Oh, this is why this song is going through my head. I reckon if I had access to a British Passport I'd still be over there. We had a bit of a Blackadder day and I get nostalgic when we have Blackadder days (when the team keep sharing their favourite Blackadder clips to liven up boring meetings in the background). Blackadder makes me happy. English comedy makes me happy.
And tell me
If it's still raining there in England
It always rains in bloody England. That's what happens over there. Gives the Poms something to complain about.
And tell me what you did last night
And tell me
If it's still raining there in England
The pictures are so hard to come by
If you ever come back just drop by
One perfect day,
One perfect day,
One perfect day,
Ah, we're getting to the crux of the matter. It's Friday night, I'm slightly squiffy thanks to a head-blasting coffee negroni, thanks in part to four'o'clock drinks and the knowledge you can't have people over. Yeah, I think this is a pseudo-lockdown glitch. I'd like to be doing something. I'd like to be out. I'd like to be with people, but this is not meant to be. Maybe I can get in fish and chips and chat up the Uber Eats person.
One perfect day,
I'll get your telegram
And you'll be calling me
Oh Oh
Telegrams Pfft. When was the last time anybody sent a telegram? This song has dated. Mind you, singing, I got your email or text loses all the romance. Maybe it should say aerogram. Remember them?
This perfect day
I can't stop thinking
Are you over there?
Are you happy there?
Seriously, is anybody really happy in England I ask this and all the English people I know seem to me to be bloody miserable. I mean, wouldn't you be miserable if Boris Johnson was your Prime minister?
And tell me
If it's still raining there in England
And did the government call last night?
Why is the government calling? How to ruin a good song, much.
And tell me
If it's still raining there in England
Adventures are so hard to come by
If you ever come back just drop by,
One perfect day....
Yes, adventures are so hard to come by. And I feel like an adventure, particularly after this coffee negroni, which may be the reason why I don't get a lot of sleep tonight, but hey, these things happen.
Strangely, this song has been around since I was 14. I loved it back then.
And I love it now.
But tonight's adventures will involve cleaning out the cat's litter tray, ordering in fish and chips because the said coffee negroni has left me incapable of driving for a while and thinking about what a perfect day would be like for my novel's protagonist. Because this all came from a Post It on my novel's planning board and I really can't tell you what a perfect day looks like.
And I'm not how I feel about this.
(Sorry, this call comes from the gin - shouldn't write and drink).
I came a cropper going down the stairs tonight at the gym. It wasn't a big cropper. It didn't happen while I was working out, it was after and it wasn't because of the heavy leg session to which Cleo subjected me (Squats, lunges, hip thrusters, leg presses - you name it, we did it).
Any anybody who knows me will recognise that I am overly cautious going down stairs at the best of times. And these stairs are steep, with an overhead light on a timer switch, and as I was on the last step of the first flight, I was startled by somebody coming out of the Barre Studio beneath the gym. Slipping, I missed a stair and landed heavily on my right leg, jarring my knee.
On the good side of things, the leg is weight bearing and mobile. On the not so good side of things, it's bloody sore.
I hate knee injuries. And this is the knee which always gives me grief.
Driving home was a tentative affair, being that you need your right leg for both the brake and the accelorator. I made it home without incident.
Arriving home, it was straight to the freezer. There are two bags of peas in there. One bag is for eating. The other one, which has been in my freezer for over ten years, is my ice pack. Lying down on the couch, I put my leg up and iced my knee. After a shower, I got the bang bang machine (tympanic massager) onto the muscles around it .
It's still sore. It might be sore for a few days.
But I don't like being injured - especially of it cuts into my walking time - as the trick with bung knees is to stay off them until they don't hurt any more.
I'm looking at the bookshelf behind me at the books on the third shelf. The top shelf contains all my plays and poetry, because everybody needs a copy of Under Milkwood and Jim Cartwright's Road sitting among the poetry anthologies, the Auden, the Larkin, the Hopkins and the Eliot - and yes, have something for those ancient of days, grumpy, middle aged Englishmen.
The next shelf down is general fiction. Two rows on one shelf. The quality stuff, not all of it read. Zadie Smith sits near Margaret Atwood. My well thumbed copy American Psycho rests next to The Time Traveller's Wife, above an Australian anomaly, The Fraction of the Whole. Murakami shoulders up with Sacher-Masoch. Yes, this is the shelf which makes me look academic and well read. I don't think I'm either of those things.
But the third shelf down is more eclectic. There are books with stories to them, not just the tales they tell inside the covers.
A coffee table book on body piercing starts the collection. This has fascinated me for years, collected at a $2 table years ago, it still gets a regular thumbing.
A poetry anothology sits next to that, Poem for the Day edited by Nicholas Albery with a forward by Wendy Cope. Another book to dip into, with all sorts if poems, from all ages, including The Battle Hymn of the Republic, to Donne, to Wilfred Owens, to you name it, it's in there. Tomorrow's poem, is The Windhover, by G.M.Hopkins - and I'm transported back to Year 12 English. I'm still a fan of assonance and alliteration in my own writing.
Pigeon English, by Stephen Kelman. We did that for book group a few year ago.
Hell on the Way to Heaven, a book about the toll systemic abuse in the Catholic Church had one one Melbourne family. The Fosters are very vocal about the Melbourne Solution and the Catholic Church.
One of Eckhart Tolle's books, given to me by Lachlan. It's inscribed with a "Merry Xmas, now go change the world." It's given with love from him, his ex-wife and two kids. Hmm.
A book of poetry by Felix Dennis. Another Lachlan missive. His poems are fun. Thought provoking. Life affirming.
The Aquarian Qabalah, but Naomi Ozaniec. A much needed reference book for somebody who has dabbled with the Kabbalah for nearly 20 years. Anybody else would see the book as gobbledegook, but sometimes I need to dabble into the subtleties of Tipharet.
Humankind by Rutger Bregland was given to my by a friend for a birthday present last year. It focuses on the good of people. It was a lovely thought - another good book to dip into.
Oh, my copy of George Saunders' Lincoln in the Bardo. What a book! Fascinating, funny, wise, crude. And a bit hard to read, but so worth it. I have an audio copy of this with a full cast. It's like a modern day Under Milkwood.
Further down the shelf there's Anna Funder's extraordinary All That I Am, a book that should have made book group, but was pipped at the post.
Sitting next to that Marie Kondo's revolutionary book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Does this book spark joy? Well at least it's in the bookshelf and not on the floor. And anybody who says you should only keep 30 books is an absolute psycho.
Anna Burns, No Bones, a present from a friend, and a wonderful precursor to her Booker Winning Milkman. Sitting next to that the tragedy that is Georgia Blain and her wonderful, Between a Wolf and a Dog. I mourn the books she never got to write.
Following that, a history of Queen Elizabeth I and J.M.Coetsee Diary of a Bad Year - a book which no two people will read in the same way.
The last book, which makes me smile when I look at it, is Walter Moers The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear. Technically it's my second copy of this. I loaned it to Alice many years ago. It was on the floor next to her bed when her son decided to piss on the book. She bought me another copy. Jasper is now in year eleven and has pink hair.
Funny thing is, I could wax lyrical about all of my books, every shelf.
A friend had her instagram hacked, and deleted today. There was no recourse for her. Unlike the regular Facebook hacks, where these scumbags cause mischief, bombing your friends with malware, this was something more. They removed her account and photos. Everything is gone.
Which is a piss awful thing to happen to anybody. She's petitioning Instagram to get access to her account and have it reinistated, but sheesh, having years of photos just taken away like that, with no recourse... gone is the social commentatry, the diatribe and the history.
I don't know how I'd cope if this happened to me. I love my instagram account, not that I'm an influencer or addicted, I just love taking photos. I love flicking back ove the shots from time to time, seeing what I've been up to. The annual black and white challenge has been keeping me busy. I like taking photos. To have this taken away would be soul destroying.
Subsequently, I've changed my passwords. May as well heed the warning.
The thought of losing my photos - albeit my small instagram presence with lots of photos of cats, and food, and black and white shots, is too horrid to bear.
I rather like these favourite listicles. Makes things easy in many ways. And as I owe my writing group a chapter, and I've been procrastinating all day, I'm going to do a question and write 100 words. That will get something out ther for later tonight.
Well that's the theory behind it.
I'm supposed to be down the Great Ocean Road this weekend - but as we are locked down again, this has not happened. At least I will have something to show for the weekend at the end of the night.
Okay, in no order of relevance - I adore The Pixies. Most favourite band ever. After this, everybody else pales in comparision. But here are few groups I love.
Talking Heads
The Rolling Stones
The Violent Women
Alt-J
The B'52s
The Hoodoo Gurus
Your favorite actors or actresses
I have a few of these too. I have loved Kenneth Branagh since I was a teenager - he's technically amazing and he's wonderful with the Shakespeare. Philip Seymour Hoffman was incredible - lights up the screen. Timothee Chalamet is going to be one to watch. Frances McDormand has a great body of work, and if you haven't seen Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, hunt it out - she's incre. I'm on a bit of a Hugh Laurie binge at the moment. I tend to go for English actors over American ones - just because of their range.
Your favorite books
Oh here we go. Here are a few favourites:
Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres.
The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan
Too Many Men by Lily Brett
Unreliable Memoirs by Clive James
A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara
Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks
The Moor's Last Sigh by Salman Rushdie
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
The Harry Potter books
Born to Run by Christopher McDougall
Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell
Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders
Your favorite movies
See another one which I could go on about forever. Some favourites include:
Little Miss Sunshine
The Hunt for the Wilderpeople
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
Priscilla Queen of the Desert (American friends, hunt this out - very Australian)
The Princess Bride
Best in Show
V is for Vendetta
Lost in Translation
The Intouchables
To Catch a Thief
In the Bleak Midwinter
Your favorite TV shows
Again, far too many to list here, but here are ten shows I'll watch over and over again:
The Young Ones
Suits
Lucifer
Six Feet Under
House
The West Wing
The Hour (British drama set at the BBC in the 1950s)
This Life (Late nineties British show - amazing)
Quantum Leap
Blackadder
Who's Line is it Anyway (The British version from the 90s)
Your favorite foods/drinks
Oh easy, ice cream, mango eaten whilst naked and in the shower, and Mum's roast lamb, which is just awesome. Living in Melbourne, and being at the Victoria Markets yesterday, I bought the best loaf of sourdough fruit bread. Oh my goodness, it's ambrosial.
Your favorite kitchen appliance
What a strange question. But currently, that's my sandwich press, bought at K-Mart for $19. It's wonderful. And used a lot. Love my kettle too, very needed for making a cup of tea.
Your favorite animal
My cat, Lucifer. But I also like elephants and seals and horses and you name it, I just love animals in general. Rarely do I meet an animalI don't like.
I've been to so many places - over most of the East Coast of Australia, throught South East Asia and done quite a bit of Europe. I've also been to New York, Philadelphia, Boston and Los Angeles - I'd like to see more of the States one day.
Places you'd like to visit
Again, this list is far too long, made to feel longer by COVID. But here are my top ten places I'd like to visit because I've never been there.
The North of Spain
Japan
Siem Reap and Angkor Wat, Cambodia
The Bungle Bungles
Uluru and Kata Djuta (formerly known as Ayres Rock and The Olgas)
Batumi in Georgia
Wales - all over Wales - it looks amazing
The Whitsunday Islands
The South of France
Prague
Canada
Seattle, San Francisco and New Orleans
classes you liked in school
I liked most of my high school classes, but I loved English, French, Drama, and strangely, Chemistry.
crafts you would like to learn
I already knit, sew and crochet, but I'd love to be able to play the piano, and part of me would love to give ceramics a try. That looks so creative.
My fitbit has 19000 steps on it from today's activities.
And the breakout was necessary and needed.
After meditation this morning I met up with Kit at the Exhibition Gardens. Kit lives in North Melbourne, me in Richmond. This was a good middle point. Just seeing somebody I haven't seen in over a year for a coffee and a walk was the best tonic for the last week or so. She's in the same boat - working from home, seeing very few people and itching to get out of the house.
Having a lot to catch up on, we embarked on a long walk. First to the coffee cart at the Exhibition Building to get some sustaining life force (if an almond decaf latte can be described as that). A lap of the Exhibition Gardens came next. Kit is as bad as me when it comes to talking to dogs.
I had another thing I really wanted to do - collect the mail. This meant a walk into the middle of town. We met up with this beauty and her parents on the way down Little Lonsdale Street.
Of course we ran into those ridiculous protesters and their stupid, selfish protest not once, but twice. The first time was on Lonsdale Street as they were coming up Exhibition Street. Daft, barefaced wankers. If they're the reason we don't come out of lockdown on Tuesday I'll be furious. (And I'm probably like the rest of Australia, livid with that cretin in Sydney who punched a police horse. He should be tied up in Martin Place and flogged in my views. We ran into them again on Elizabeth Street. Thankfully they'd nearly passed as we crossed on the way to the post office to get my mail. Making things worse, they were playing The Living End's Prisoner of Society over a loudspeaker. Irony, much. (see song of the day and have a read of the lyrics - I sing this to babies in my care).
Next stop, the Victoria Markets. Kit met up with her boyfriend, me, I made my way into the cheese hall to pick up some supplies.
Then the walk back to the Exhibition Building to get my second COVID shot. It was due today, and though I'd booked a second shot at the doctors for the week after next, I was there at the hub, they can't give away the Astra Zeneca vaccine and there was no queue. After checking in, and lining up, I got the shot. A 15 minute sit down in the allotted area while the 5G files downloaded and I was free to go.
I made my way back home, collecting some supplies for Blarney and Barney on the way, who have another couple of days of isolation left.
After an hour or so at home, I drove out there to drop off the supplies. Just driving further than the local supermarket was a joy. The items were handed over on the front porch, mask firmly in place, not daring to step into pestilence central - though they are all fine and have tested negative until now. Care giving is a legitimate reason to be out of the house.
Then home via the servo to fill up the car with petrol and a stop to get some takeaway.
19000 steps. A bit more than the allotted time out of the house, but as a middle aged woman in a mask, I'm invisible, and I'm not making trouble.
My team at work is known as Team Reprobate. Because we are just that.
Ratbags.
My team lead has had a lot to do with the Army over the years.
We talk in army acronyms.
Time isn't done like civilians. So our weekly team drinks are held not at 4 pm, but Sixteen Hundred hours.
Things are done so that they're ship shape and Bristol fashion.
And we talk in acronyms.
So there are the SNAFUs (Situation normal, all F*cked up).
Of course there are clusterf*cks and sh*tshows. They are interchangeable.
And we have the regulation WOFTAMs.
WOFTAM? Waste of F*cking Time and Money.
This is the name of a meeting that really could either be an email, or performed in half the time.
Case in point - the weekly team meeting. Complete WOFTAM.
(Okay, some stuff gets communicated in this meeting, but it could be covered in half an hour)
As there is normally nothing to read in the meeting, and all we do is talk, I have a tendency to go for a walk during this one hour talk fest. You can't get any real work done during the team meeting, so I grab the phone and go for a sanctioned one hour walk. Headphones in, camera set out facing the street , I then head for the river, give my updates, pitch in when I have to and grab a coffee on the way home. The camera goes stays on, showing my team the walk, the dogs I'm meeting along the way, the wind in my hair, limbs moving, I make some time for me in the middle of this talkfest.
This is my very small act of defiance. I could be sitting at my desk twiddling my thumbs, or I could get some walking in - so I go walking. And my response if anybody complains about me walking.
I made chicken schnitzels from scratch last night, knowing I haven't done anything like this in years. My colleagues warned me about doing this. One gave me tips about pounding them thin, the other told me about how he makes crumbed fish with LSA and black sesame seeds in crumb mix.
Me, I just wanted chicken schnitzel. One of those comfort foods that are good for lockdown.
Also, I can't remember the last time I crumbed something to eat. As a kid, one of my favourite dinners was crumbed chops. Being the granddaughter of a butcher, we always had some kind of meat for dinner and chops were a staple. But crumbed chops were the absolute best. And it was often my job to crumb the chops.
Well, chicken schnitzels can't be that hard to do. Get some chicken breast, slice them in half, pound them out, douse them in a bit of flour, dip them in an egg, then tip them in crumbs. Repeat the last two steps to make them extra crunchy. I used panko crumbs last night. Then they go into the fridge for at least half an hour to set the crumb.
Once chilled, they're lightly pan fry them til brown. As they were chicken schnitzels, to make sure they were cooked through, they were placed in a medium oven for twenty minutes.
And I had a magic dinner last night.
I've forgotten how much I like to cook. Even if it is basic stuff. Like chicken schnitties.
And one day, when I'm home, I might have to ask my Mum to do crumbed chops again - I don't think she's done them since she and Dad split. You cover them with Worcestershire sauce - and you need a pile of mashed potatoes with them. It's an oh-so-seventies dinner. But gee they're good.
I order a wanker coffee (Okay, it's a large, almond decaf latte - but it's still a bit of a wanky drink)
My motto is "Life is too short to drink Gordon's gin"
I'll wait half an hour for a toasted sandwich at the hippy sandwich shop round the corner (but in my defence, Hector's Deli sandwiches are the bomb.)
I wear a LOT of black
And bright red lipstick
Doc Martens and motorcycle boots are appropriate office footwear
And it goes on.
But today I've reached what I think is my peak lockdown:
Instead of walking to the coffee shop (well it is raining) I made myself a baked bean and cheese toastie for breakfast
And brewed my own coffee in my little stove-top coffee pot (Vittorio decaf with almond milk and a dash of vanilla essence - see, I can tell you that because I'm a Melbourne wanker.)
I've got Ugg Boots on my feet.
I'm wearing trackie dacks.
And a hoodie which reads, "Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come."
Tonight's book group will be held on Zoom (Nothing new there, besides, where else can we go?)
I've got three friends in 14 day isolation.
My gym is classed as a Tier One site after being at Tier One sites.
And I'm going to attempt to make chicken schnitzels for dinner - I have panko crumbs and I'm not afraid to use them.
Okay, I'm not working on a jigsaw, or trying to do mosaics or ceramics. I've got three books on the go. I've been binge watching House of late, and have developed a bit of a crush on Hugh Laurie - then again, I've always had a thing for the Brits.
But for now, I'll sit here in my hoodie and my trackie dacks and ugg boots and wait for the presser to see how much longer we're going to be locked up for.
Mood: Better for a gym session (in the loungeroom, over Messenger, with pilfered weights from three lockdowns ago)
The news aint good. It's not dreadful, but it's not good either. The lockdown will continue after tomorrow. 15000 people are under isolation orders. My gym has just been listed as a Tier One site. A couple of my friends were there during the designated times and are stuck at home for the next 14 days. There are dots all over Richmond now. My coffee shop remains closed.
I'm still thankful I have a job, I'm solvent and I haven't been anywhere near these sites. And I'm glad I have a cat keeping me company.
And sure, the writer's retreat will be postponed and the Patricia Piccinnini exhibition viewing will be delayed. A group of my friends have got tickets to a Friday Night session at the Art Gallery at the end of August, just because we need something to look forward to.
Just keep writing says Dev, who is taking us though another Write Here, Write Now session. I have a packet of chocolate covered rasberries and a big glass of water in front of me. I'm just about ready to write about all sorts of things. On the good side of things, our numbers are staying steady. On the not so good side of things, there have been cases out of the city, which means this lockdown will probably go on for at least another week - but also in saying that, we're pretty compliant around here, and this is good. We are not Sydney - and by not being Sydney, we will hopefully be out of this sooner rather than later. Sydney has not learned the lesson yet it seems. This COVID lark is a complete pain in the bum.
I'm also very miffed that my long weekend away down the Great Ocean Road will probably be put off. Really not happy about this at all - but what can you do - the state is locked down.
Anyway, enough moaning. Questions, as always, come from Bev at Sunday Stealing.
1. Did you eat paste and/or glue as a child?
Yes, very occasionally, from memory. It tastes good. But I was the kid who put it all over my hands, let it dry, then peeled it off. I love peeling things off things.
2. Look at the wall to your right, what is on it?
I have a couple of things on there. A big Theophile Steinlen's Le Chat Noir framed print, a couple of water colour prints from Owen Traynor, a Mancunian watercolourist, and father of a friend of mine. There's also a big gold star on the wall, like you'd put on a Christmas tree.
3. Do you put butter and/or salt on your popcorn?
Umm, I say both butter and salt on my popcorn, but I like it best when you get it from British cinemas and you can half sweet, half salty popcorn. That's the best.
4. What does your favorite coffee cup look like?
I have a large white mug with a big A on it. It's a big mug and lets you have a proper drink out if it. No dainty tea cups for me.
5. Would you rather have a pet hippo or a pet elephant?
A pet elephant. Elephants are cuddly, as I found out in Thailand. And they're not as agressive ads hippos, and they don't need as much water to live happily. Love elephants. I collect them.
6. Toilet Paper - hard, soft, extra soft?
I've been buying the same soft, recycled, unbleached stuff for years. I don't do the Quilton or Kleenex stuff. The bog roll with frogs on it, that's my butt rag. So I'd go soft and leave it at that.
7. Have you ever rescued/taken in a stray animal?
Almost. I found a kitten at the end of the street - I went home to get it some food and to find something to pick it up and take it to the vet, but it was gone when I went back. Mind you, Lucifer, my darling black boy, was rescued from a cat shelter. Best decision ever.
8. If you realize your house is on fire while you are using the bathroom, do you wipe or just run for the door?
Wipe first. There might be hot firemen at the scene and you don't want to be untidy. There is always time to wipe. You might not be that thorough, but at least you are tidy.
9. Now, if you only had $10 to buy one thing, what would it be?
I'd see if I could talk the barman at the local if I could have a gin and tonic with some good gin. It's hard to get a G&T with decent gin for under a tenner. Life is too short to drink Gordons.
10. What’s your favorite type of potato?
Sweet potatoes. I can't discriminate between potatoes. I love all potatoes. Mashed, baked, boiled, Dauphinoise, potato bake, chips, hot chips.... potatoes. Mmmmmmm
11. How long do you keep unmatched socks before you get rid of them... and how do you dispose of these socks?
About six months. I'm pretty good at not losing socks, ensuring a pair go into the washing machine as a rule. They rarely get lost that way. If I know the other sock has been really lost, like its mate has fallen out of the gym bag, then I will throw it out immediately.
12. What was the last thing you took a picture of?
See below. It's a very cool car that resides just down the road from where I live. I'm doing a black and white challenge this July on Instagram. My insta handle is @pandorabehr if you want to have a look at my stuff. I love photography.
13. Do you use a cookbook?
Sometimes, but not often.
14. Bottled or tap water?
Both. Bottled and sparkling when I'm out, tap water at home. Sparkling water when you're eating feels fancy.
15. Do you like pumpkin pie? Do you cheat and buy a premade one or do you make it from scratch? Heck, do you even make pumpkin pie at all?
Pumpkin pie is an American thing. I'm Australian. Pumpkin is a savoury thing - roasted with your dinner, or made into soup, and always made from scratch. I have tried pumpkin pie and I'm a bit indifferent to it. Sure, it's fine, but I prefer my mother's blackberry or apple pies.
Jay and I didn't time our walk well. It started to tip down as we were about to head off. We might do Pump from the living room tomorrow - though I like the getting out and going for a walk. akes me feel a bit more human.
This COVID lark has got a bit too close to me.
My coffee shop is a Tier 2 exposure site - it was closed today. This is the coffee shop at the shopping centre, not the one where I get a quick and dirty coffee between meetings, or the hipster joint where it takes about the same amount of time to kill the pig and cure the bacon as it does to provide you with a coffee and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich (but they are very, very good...)
My local Coles is a Tier Two site too.
I've been to both locations over the past few days - thankfully not on the days or times of exposure. But still.
Then, talking to a friend this morning, she and her family have to isolate for 14 days. They were at the rugby. Another friend has tested positive. Thankfully, they're fully vaccinated - they're a bit sick, but hopefully the symptoms won't get any worse than an annual flu. Still, my mate and her family are now stuck at home for the next two weeks.
I might leave some biscuits at the front gate in the next week.
It also looks like my weekend away next weekend won't be going ahead. Not happy about this, but what can you do?
The writer's workshop the following weekmay happen. We live in hope.
9.15 am: Crank up the music before the meeting starts at 9.30. I give you the B'52s. Private Idaho.
9.16 am.: Start boring admin crap. Do timesheet or our finance girl in Perth will get VERY grumpy.
9.38 am: The mandatory five minute whinge in the meeting is over.
10.20 am: Run downstairs to get a parcel off the postie.
10.41 am: Have a pitch battle with Lucifer over treats.
10.45 am: Try to get some work done.
11.41 am: Hang out the washing in the spare room.
11.50 am: Write email to the compliance people.
12.30 pm: Have a chat with my one up about work stuff. Have been challenged to go for a walk during the team meeting, incorporating a visit to Dan Murphy's. I feel a gin run coming on.
12.45 pm: Charge up the phone for pending walk to Dan Murphy's during team meeting.
1.28 pm: Leave the flat - need to be out the gate by 1.30 pm as there is a dead zone there.
1.30 pm: Patch into team meeting. Turn on camera and take the team on a walk around Richmond.
1.45 pm: Give my team update while standing outside of Dan Murphy's.
1.55 pm: Buy a bottle of Poor Tom's gin and a bottle of Little Creatures beer. Have the guy at the check out wave at the team.
2.23 pm: Team meeting ends. The walk continues along the Yarra.
2.45 pm: Arrive home.
2.55 pm: Do some work
3.20 pm: Get back to the person I was chatting with on the walk home who needed some stuff from me.
3.40 pm: Write the email I've been trying to write for most of the day.
3.55 pm: Make myself a drink for team drinks at 4 pm - today's tipple - Original Elderflower and Lemon Myrtle gin with a dash of soda.
4.00 pm: Team drinks start.
5.15 pm: Team drinks end.
5.20 pm: Close down the work laptop.
5.30 pm: Open personal laptop.
5.45 pm: Make chicken and mushroom risotto.
7 pm: Start work on finalising my Richell prize entry.
I'm South Australian. We have nothing to do with this.
I live in Victoria.
And I'm livid.
We just got rid of this crappy virus, and now it's back, thanks to Gladys Bin Chicken.
This is going to get interesting. We've just been sent into another five day lockdown. What we call a proper lockdown - not the Clayton's lockdown they're having in Sydney, where they can't even identify who an essential worker is (Florist's anybody?) None of the click and collect protocols we'll have here for the next five days. Slack masking. Shops are open.
Yeah, we're a bit pissed with old Glad Bags.
But if we're lucky, this lockdown will do the trick and we can get back on track.
And we can show Glad Bags how lockdowns actually work.
On the more disconcerting level, I've just checked the latest exposure sites. My local shopping centre is on the list. The Coles. My coffee shop. The car park. I've been to all of those places. Thankfully not at the times they stated - but I had to have a think about where I'd been.
Officially, I was over COVID this time last year - but it drags on.
And on.
And on.
So I'm sitting here in my lunchtime writing this, looking at the number, half-petrified that the long awaited writer's retreat, which is on next weekend, will be called off or postponed again.
97 new cases in Sydney today. Okay, yes, fine, their on their lockdown-lite what do they expect?
But there are eight new cases in Melbourne. Brought here by removalists from Sydney, who allegedly haven't been that forthcoming about their movements.
Great!
For my sanity's sake, I only look at the papers at 9 am to get the Victorian numbers and 11 am for the waffle which is the NSW COVID numbers. Gladbags, (as I call Gladys Berejiklian) is a class act, obfuscating and sidestepping her duties. I've got a bit more time for Kerry Chant, who seems over the whole thing. Give me Dan, Brett and Jeroen any day. I'm trying to not engage with the politics. It's all too grim. Some information filters through via Crikey.com, The Guardian and The Shot. I can't do the Herald Sun or the Australian. Grim, I tell you. Grim.
Thing is, we've just come out of six weeks of lockdown - only only three of them were the hardcore, wear your masks in the streets type lock down, but I've just got back to the office after six weeks at home, talking to the cat, making my own coffee and loving my sandwich press just a bit too much.
I don't want to be commissioned to stay at home again.
I'm glad I'm half-vaccinated. August 3 is the date for my second shot. It can't come
I like being in the office.
I like having conversations face to face with people which are more than uttering comments like, "Get off the keyboard", and "Big yawn" and, "It's not your dinner time - you get fed at 6 pm".
I like being on the train - especially when people do wear their masks.
I like being around people while I'm in the office.
And you get bloody people bringing this bloody disease into a community which has just about got rid of it.
Pissed off is an understatement.
If it postpones my writer's retreat scheduled at the end of next week there will be hell to pay.
Fingers crossed the 10000 people at the MCG on 10 July are not infected.
I'm going back to the office tomorrow and I just want an early night after an early morning.
So here are some movies that nobody has ever heard of which I think are just wonderful.
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
It was one of the movies that brought Robert Downey Junior back. It also has a fantastic character played by Val Kilmer - one Gay Perry. It's funny. It's fast and it's just good.
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
My Frances McDormand love affair was solidified here. Cracking cast, lovely period piece. But with Frances McDormand and Amy Adams, how can you go wrong? Thankfully, Channel Nine plays it fairly regularly as a lunchtime movie.
Logan Lucky
A Steven Soderbergh sleeper. A caper film. Great cast. Lovely heart. Tis awesome.
Their Finest
An English film about the propoganda department in London in WWII. Gemma Arterton is a woman press ganged into helping the Department of Information. This one's a keeper.
Best in Show
From the people who brought us Spinal Tap - Best in Show is a mocumentary about Dog Shows. It's hilarious. And with Catherine O'Hara and Eugene Levy and the cast of Spinal Tap, what more could you want.
Truly Madly Deeply
I think my love affair with Alan Rickman started here. Anthony Minghella directed it. It's a lovely take on a ghost story. It also shows how I remember London.
Peter's Friends
Another English film with the brat pack of English Actors in the nineties who are all doing very fabulously now thank you very much. One of the biggest compliments I've ever received was when a friend said I was just like Maggie. Love Emma Thompson.
In the Bleak Midwinter
Another Kenneth Branagh Film. In black and white. About a troupe of players producing Hamlet over Christmas in an old Church. It's just awesome.
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)
This one gets me into trouble. The original movie, starring Danny Kaye, came out in 1939. I like the Ben Stiller version that came out about ten years ago. It's about getting out of your comfort zone. The cast is great. It just speaks to me.
I'm a Marvel movies fan. I have been for a while, so I place that caveat on this review.
And this movie, which gives Natasha Romanoff a.k.a. the Black Widow, has most of the required Marvel tropes. Things blowing up? Check. Underlying dry humour? Check. Fast paced action? Check. References to other Marvel characters? Check. Stan Lee cameo - unfortunately not, as Stan Lee died the other year.
Other than missing Stan Lee, yep, it's a Marvel movie.
Nott the best of the Marvel stable, but it's still very entertaining.
The movie provides Black Widow's back story, set originally in the last seventies, then moving forward to the nineties.
RottenTomatoes.com says the film is about "Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, confronts the darker parts of her ledger when a dangerous conspiracy with ties to her past arises. Pursued by a force that will stop at nothing to bring her down, Natasha must deal with her history as a spy, and the broken relationships left in her wake long before she became an Avenger."
That says it better than I ever could.
This is a solid Marvel film. The action is pretty unrelenting, as Natasha (Scarlett Johansson) goes from scene to scene. Always a bit of a loner, you watch as she reconnects with her 'family', her 'Dad' (David Harbour), Mum (Rachel Weisz) and sister, Yelena (Florence Pugh).
For me, the things that made the film were the family dynamics, which were as real as they were funny. Dad, Alexei, a.k.a The Red Guardian, is an absolute crack up. Rachel Weisz's Mum, Melina, gives the role gravitas. I loved Florence Pugh as Natasha's plucky little sister, Yelena. Part of me now wants to go back and see Fighting with my Family, in which she is even more awesome. Oh, and then there's Ray Winstone as the baddie - he makes a great baddie.
I think the only thing that really grated on me were the Russian accents, which I found a tad overdone.
But the action is fabulous. Fabulous enough for me to offer to take my friends eleven-year-old boys along to see it next weekend.
Relatively unknown director, Cate Shortland's direction is pacy and sure. What she does really well is the family dynamics, which will have you tittering throughout.
And of course, there is the short clip at the end, eluding to the next installment in the Marvel Comic Universe.
So, in all, a solid film. Okay, it's not Guardians of the Galaxy or the Avengers series (or Deadpool. Love Deadpool), but it is still a very entertaining.
Another weekend, another quiz. I've just been to see Black Widow, with friends. I'm so glad we've got the cinemas back - Sydney is now in lockdown and not doing that well.
1. Do you ever feel completely rested and unrushed
Strangely, I had an hour in a floatation tank yesterday. I can't remember the last time I felt that wonderful. Cancelled my plans for the rest of the day after that and spent the night in my oodie chilling out. It was wonderful.
2. If you had to wear all white for the entire day, how long before you spilled something on it?
Give me about ten minutes. I avoid wearing white because I'm just sloppy and messy and stuff always ends up all over me.
3. What would you include inside of your emergency kit?
Hmm. If it was an existential emergency kit, I think I would have:
A small bottle of decent gin and some good tonic water
Some Fry's Turkish Delight
A couple of charged up mobile chargers and a charging cable
Some satin ribbon
A copy of TS Eliot's poems
A copy of Ulysses.
A hairbrush
A snuggie
4. What’s more fun than a barrel full of monkeys?
Now that was a great game from my childhood. I preferred Operation and Monopoly, but I played a lot with the barrel of monkeys as a kid.
Oh, I really don't like monkeys. Vicious little sex pests.
5. Is it hard for you to let go of certain things, even if you have too many of them?
I'm getting a lot better at letting things go. It's taken time, but I'm getting there. I rarely give up on people - but even that I'm getting better at this. Sometimes, it's just easier to let them go.
6. When was the last time you were ready to throw in the proverbial towel? Did you end up letting go, or decided to fight on anyway?
Oh, that was probably letting go of dream group quite a few years ago. After a lot time sitting in the dream group it wasn't working for me. It took me a year to work up the courage to leave. Thankfully those in the group are still friends, but it was hard to walk away from it. It helped me no end.
7. What is the color of awesome?
Bright pillar box red. It's my favourite colour.
8. What is your favorite black and white movie?
It's a toss up between Casablanca and Citizen Kane. Of recent films, The Artist was pretty wonderful.
9. If you could describe your mood in a color today, what color would it be?
Silver. It's been a fairly transcendental day and silver seems about right.
10. If you could wish for anything and it would come true, you wish for?
True love? World peace? A bit lottery win. At the moment I'm just wishing for a better, more sensible Federal Government and an end to COVID.
11. What are some of the wacky things that you like to do?
I don't think I'm that wacky. But I like reading and movies and going to plays. I also like running the gin club at work and collecting boutique gins - and little elephants that sit on my shelf.
12. If you could have any author –living or dead – write your biography, who would you choose?
One of the following: Salman Rushdie, Margaret Atwood or Richard Flanagan - I love all their writing and I'd love to see what they could do with my little life.
13. If you could be a “fly on the wall” anywhere and at any time in history, where and when would you choose?
After reading the Wolf Hall Trilogy, I'd love to be a fly on the wall during the time of Henry VIII, just to see what realy went on.
14.What is the last thing you made from scratch?
I cook from scratch most of the time when I cook. Last week I made a chicken and mushroom risotto for lunch for the week. Very tasty.
15. When we are able to travel again, where would you love to go?
There are too many places on the list. I'm overdue for a trip to England. I want to do the North of Spain. I want to get over to America to see Reindert. And of course there is always Ubud, in Bali, for a week of yoga and other great things. I miss travel.
We hadn't done this since well before COVID came and made our lives all topsy-turvy. Then a while ago, Jonella said she'd like to go for a float and I said yeah and we went halfs in a four float pack, which brings the float price right down.
And today was the first opportunity we had to get to the float place. There are lots of them around, but we've always gone to Elevation Float in Camberwell. It's meticuculously clean. It's reliable. And they do good packages, like four floats for $150.
After a lovely morning of meditation, brunch with friends, a bit of housework and cat cuddling, I went and met Jonella at the float centre. After a chat, we were taken into our individual rooms. Having done this many times before, once the door to the room was locked I stripped off, had a quick shower to rinse off the day, shoving some earplugs in the ear canals, then hopped in the tank, half-filled with water infused with magnesium sulphate (Epsom Salts). Once the tank, the lid shut, light inside the tank turned off, you let yourself float for the next hour. The salt-infused water means there is no way you're going to sink, The light in the room is a sensor light, so that turns off after about five minutes making it pitch black in the egg-shaped tank. And it's all but silent in there.
And you are floating in body temperature water, in the dark with very little sound.
It's the nearest thing to heaven that I can think of.
For an hour, you're free to let your mind roam. Or sleep. Or masturbate. Or whatever you want to do. You're floating. Nothing really matters - okay, the cat scratches sting a bit in the treated water for the first minute or so.
Me, I find myself taking inventory when I'm in the tank. Rather than overthink, I plot and plan with this time. Work out where next. I think about plots and characters. It's the ultimate me time. What could be better. The world can't get you while you're in there.
After an hour, some music rouses you, the light is turned back on, you get out, shower, wash the epsom salts out of your hair, dress and go have a cup of herbal tea in the foyer.
And for me, this is as good as any massage - if not better. Your muscles flop. The brain switches off. And the sense of peace and relaxation is second to none.
I'd forgotten how good this floating lark was.
And now, I'm sitting in my oodie struggling to write because I'm that munged out. I was supposed to be going out tonight - cancelled that. I'd rather stay in this state of deep relaxation. Being nice to people I don't know in Carlton was not condusive to relaxation.
The competition gods are smiling on me and extended the Richell Prize entry date until next week - making me feel less crap about my entry. So instead of madly editing my entry tonight, I've got a little more time - and this has got me excited about writing again. But I'm flailing to find something to write about tonight. This is one of the joys of being committed to writing a post everyday.
So here are some sensory things I've been thinking about.
Today's black and white photo was taken on the way to the gym last night. I'm really enjoying working in the black and white format. I'll never be a photographer, but I really enjoy doing this.
My stomach muscles are aching. Fifteen leg lifts three times, plus three rounds of Russian Twists will do that to you. It's almost as good as the feeling of knowing you can do fifteen leg lifts three times over - though the last round was tough.
Walking in the sunshine, by the river, at a time when the tow path is nearly empty is a joy. It makes the weekly team meeting go quickly.
Who knew Baileys mixed with a bit of Mr Black's Coffee Liqueur could be so yummy. This was discovered by chance at team drinks tonight. I couldn't decide whether I wanted Baileys or Mr Black to drink.
And nothing tastes better than a baked bean and cheese toastie on a cold night.
And my beloved cat has the silkiest pelt and the fishiest breath, even though I don't feed him fishy dinners.
Just receiving some news which I don't quite know how to process, of course I turned to retail therapy.
The dodgy news is not bad - it's just some stuff with work which will seriously disrupt life for a few weeks at the end of the year. It's all fine - the cat's not going to like it, but them's the breaks.
Anyway, I go and look to appease my soul, I looked to find a way to spend some money. Not much money, as I'm still in povo mode after a month of big bills, but a little bit of money, because this is my outlet when you find out that you're going to be sent to Boganville (the equivalent of Bumfuck, Nebraska) for three weeks to do some training, separating you from your beloved cat for that time.
Oh, and I have a pimple on my lip line which is driving me spare.
Enough moaning. I spent some money.
As we were about to go into lockdown a month ago there was a festival called Rising, which piqued my interest. Anyway, as we got locked down, the festival was shot down and I thought that would be end of it.
But no.
Some of the installations are coming back, running again and will be around the traps for a while.
The ticket is for the week after next, at lunchtime. It's being held in the Flinders Street Station Ballroom - a place rarely seen by the public. As I normally work from the office on Thursdays, I've scored a ticket for lunchtime. It's a five minute walk over there and a good excuse to get out for lunch. It's in the diary already. And I admire Piccinini's work. It's strange and disturbing, but provocative work, which I've seen all around the world over the years.
It feels good to be putting some money into the Arts.
I've always wondered what was in the rooms above the Flinders Street Station.
And I will get over the fact I'm being sent to Bumfuck, Nebraska for a few weeks to train. It will be alright.
I just have to have my knee jerk reaction and let it all out the rant before smiling nicely and knowing that this is a part of my job.
I have art to go and see. It will make me happy. (And I have a long weekend starting the following day - be thankful for small miracles).
