Sunday Stealing: Ice Cream

 Just the post to write the day before you embark on a two-month naturopathically sponsored detox regime where gluten, dairy, alcohol, sugar and caffeine are complete no-nos. 

And ice cream, in my eyes, is the sixth food group. 

Questions, as always, come from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

1. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Does there have to be just one? I love a very good vanilla, but....

• Snickers at the now defunct Johnn Johnn's in Darwin is magnificent
• Macadamia always goes down a treat
• And I like the Asian flavours such as green tea and black sesame flavours.
• And coffee
• And a good rum and raisin
• And pistachio....

I just like ice cream. 

2. If you could invent a new flavor of ice cream, what would it be?

With all the flavours around are there any do invent. Maybe I'd get a Biscoff, coffee flavour with some toasted almonds thrown in for the crunch factor. 

That or something with Indian flavours like cardamom and turmeric. That could go down a treat. 

3. Who do you like to eat ice cream with?

Everything - great with waffles, fruit, warm cake, nuts, sprinkles, melted chocolate... I don't discriminate. 

4. If you were a flavor of ice cream, what flavor would you be?

Me, I'd probably be a decent vanilla with some unexpected bits mixed in for good measure - good things like white chocolate and macadamia. Good stuff. 

5. Does your family eat ice cream regularly, or just for a special treat?

My family eat ice cream regulary, with dessert, but only once or twice a week. As of tomorrow, I'm off ice cream, thanks to the naturopath, so that's going to be all gone. Not happy about this. 

6. What is your favorite treat from the ice cream truck?

I haven't been to an ice cream truck in years, but I used to love a 99 flake cone. Ice cream trucks are a rare thing these days. 

7. Does frozen yogurt taste different than ice cream?

Yes. As was shown in The Good Place, frozen yogurt is an abomination that should be sent to Orwell's Room 101 for getting rid of. Terrible stuff, even if people pretend it isn't. 

It's like being served prosecco when you're expecting champagne. So disappointing. 

8. If you could make a super sundae, what would it have?

I'm not really a sundae person, but I'd probably put on something like peanut M&Ms with a decent chocolate sauce. Something simple. No extra cream. It's not needed. 

9. Can ice cream make a bad day better?

Of course. 

10. Have you ever had homemade ice cream?

Yes. Actually, I've made my own ice cream on occasion. Nigella Lawson's No-Churn Coffee Ice Cream is the bomb. Nigella Lawson has some great no-churn ice cream recipes. 

11. When is your favorite time to eat ice cream?

In the evening. I tend to not eat it during the day. In Darwin, it was a great thing to wander down to the ice cream parlour for an after-dinner treat. Unfortunately, Johnn Johnn's is closing down today. 

12. What is the best kind of ice cream you ever had?

I have a real penchant for Maggie Beers Burnt Fig, Caramel and Honeycomb ice cream. It is incredible - and available at the supermarket. 

13. Do you prefer your ice cream in a cone or in a bowl?

If I'm buying a scoop of ice cream at a store, I prefer it to come in a waffle cone, rather than a cup. I'm a bit old school like that. 

At home, ice cream is eaten from a small bowl with a teaspoon - not a dessert spoon. I'm told this is a neurodiversity thing, but it tells your brain you're getting more ice cream. 

14. Is there such a thing as a bad flavor of ice cream?

I don't think there are bad ice cream flavours, just ones that are badly executed. I'm not a fan of lime ice cream, nor do I like overly watery gelato. Italian gelato is always amazing. Australian gelato, not so much. Or maybe everything tastes better in Italy. 

15. They say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. What does an ice cream a day do?

Keeps you happy. Ice cream is the sixth food group after all. 

16. Is ice cream better when it’s fresh or slightly melted?

I like ice cream when it is still firm. Again, this might be a Darwin thing, where I've been having a lot of ice cream, but it all melts too quick. I prefer when it stays firmer. 

17, What is the craziest flavor of ice cream you’ve ever seen?

Over here we get a lot of Asian flavours coming into the stores. Or at shops like Gelato Messina, there are all sorts of things come through. (I forgot about their pannacotta with fig jam and amaretti biscuits and their macadamia crunch flavours).

But I remember one flavour - white chocolate and wasabi ice cream. I loved it. Really unexpected and not too hot. The wasabi had a kick, but it was subtle. Loved it. 

Today's song:

Here we go again

 A trip to the naturopath is never fun. It might be necessary but it's never fun. 

And I love my naturopath. She's awesome. She's German. As a German Naturopath, she's not overly militant. Actually, she's got a wonderful sense of humour. 

We talked about why I was there. We talked about my goals (okay, it's about losing some weight and getting this fatty liver of mine under control. 

She didn't have to tell me what I'll be doing for the next two months starting on Sunday (Because if you' re going to draw a line in the sand, you may as well do it on a convenient date. 

So, for the next two months I will be following naturopath's orders. 

• No gluten
• No dairy (with the exception of whey powder)
• No sugar - fresh fruit in limited amounts is okay. 
• No caffeine - and for at least the first month, no decaf or tea or green tea
• No alcohol

One portion of lean red meat is allowable, as is one portion of salmon. 

And I have to try getting at least 100 grams of protein into me on a daily basis. 

I'm going to be fun to be around over the next two months. 

Thankfully, I've done this before, and I know how good this makes you feel. I also don't have to do the caffeine detox this time, as I barely touch the stuff now - thanks to that last detox. But as decaf has been banned, it is going to feel stupid going into a coffee shop to ask for a lemongrass and ginger tea.

I'll also be spending about half my time in Darwin over this time. Double fun. 

As I said. What fun....

Wish me luck. I'll need it. 

Today's song:

Done Well

 In the background this afternoon, the Paris Paralympics opening ceremony broadcasting on the television in the background.

My biggest takeaway from the hours long ceremony is that this was displaying some of the best of humanity

I avoided the Olympics for the most part. I get rather irritated that all of these people and paid millions to compete in what was supposed to be amateur games. The Olympics haven't been for amateurs for years. 

The Paralympics are a different kettle of worms. People with what are perceived as disabilities competing on a world stage. 

It makes my heart sing. 

What I really enjoyed about the opening ceremony, which took athletes from the Arc de Triomph to the Place de la Concorde, with the Eiffel Tower glowing in the background. 

The dancers were a mix of able-bodied and mixed ability, but they were fantastic. 

One fellow, Musa Motha, a South African dance, lead the dancing near the end of the ceremony. He was incredible.                                                                                                                                                      

For me, the Paralympics truly encompasses the Olympic spirit. People going out there and showing their abilities. Less bullshit and even more heart. 

And I'm hoping there won't be the dwelling on the medal tally on every broadcast for the next eleven days. 

I can live in hope. 

Today's song:

Evil Things

 Legendary sweet tooth? No self-control? Just looked interesting. 

I went to the office today, as is the go on most Wednesdays. 

I went to get a coffee. 

And then I saw it. 

I pointed it out to the guy serving me. "What's that?"

"A croissant filled with lemon curd."

The decision took all of a second. "You had me at lemon curd."

I took my coffee and lemon curd croissant back to the desk. 

It was incredible. Crispy. Crunchy. Not too sweet. Not too big. Absolutely orgasmic. Eaten as I watched the trains pootle around the Jolimont sidings. 

On Friday, I've got an appointment with the naturopath. I'm pretty sure anything remotely 'fun' will be taken away from be from the weekend. The last time I saw the naturopath for something similar she took gluten, dairy, sugar, caffeine and alcohol away from me. 

This was my last stand. I can see the same happening on Friday. 

Popping out to the kitchen, where the cafe happens to be, the barrista asked me about the dreadful item. 

There are only two words. 

Fucking evil. 

I'm glad I only work from the office once a week, so I don't have to face these temptations. 

But it was worth it. 

Today's song:

Random Thoughts

 I can't think of anything concrete to write about tonight, so here's some dot points from today:

• I am still triggered by The Footy Show, even though it hasn't been on our screens for five years. There is something about the sight of Sam "Wrinkly Bollox" Newman that makes me want to throw a brick through the telly. Eddie McGuire I can tolerate - he's pretty innocuous, but it's that horrid hyper-blokiness which irritates the fuck out of me. 
• My cat is a soggy, manipulative prick. If he wants treats, he sits next to me and scratches my leg with one claw. And he keeps coming back for me. He has wrecked many a right leg on many a pair of trousers over the last four and a half years.
• I am blow drying my hair straight as I write this (well, you know, write a dot point, dry a section). How did I used to do this every day for work? I'm doing this just for a change. I like my curls. 
• I hate the wind. It is my least favourite aspect of the weather.
• Knitting is therapeutic. 
• Why is it when you want to make some changes to your life, you want to make them NOW! It's never soon enough. 
• I've just started a book called Kinky History by Esme Louise James. It's non-fiction. I need to get it read before next Thursday so I can give it back to my friend when I go to Adelaide. 
• Speaking of Adelaide, I'm a bit travelled out - and I don't know whether I'm Bill or Ben or which flowerpot I'm in. I made plans for next Thursday - not this Thursday. Next Thursday I'm flying to Adelaide for a Freemasons Convention. Oh, such fun. 
• Speaking of Freemasons, I've got the urge to revisit that novel I was thinking about centered around the lady freemasons of a lodge here in Melbourne. Lots would have to be changed - but gee, that could be fun to write. 
• I'm going out for dinner with friends on Friday. 
• I have going, on audiobook, Bri Lee's The Work. I find it fascinating that is known for her non-fiction, this seems to have a lot of merit. I do love novels about art. 
• As my hair is now dry and straight, I will leave this here. 

Today's song:

The Cryptic Crossword Guy

 Back in the annals of time, when Bob Hawke was Prime Minister and the Australian Cricket team was something to celebrate, of a morning, we would get the paper from the local store. The Adelaide Advertiser was it, the Sunday Mail on Sunday, such is, and was, the parochial state of Newspapers in South Australia and we were not posh enough to get The Australian, in the days before it was it was a right-wing propaganda rag. 

Like most families, there was often a fight for "the funnies" - the page of the newspaper with the cartoon strips and the crosswords puzzles. 

As time went on, whenever I got hold of a newspaper, I would swoop on "the funnies" and normally make a start on the crossword - the quick crossword, not the cryptic one. 

By the end of my stay in London, I was acing the quick crossword in The Evening Standard. 

Even now, whenever I get onto a Qantas flight, I search out the magazine and try to get out the easy sudoku before the plane takes off, before making a start on their jumbo crossword. 

But the cryptic crossword has always been something that makes no sense. I pondered how to learn how to do them, these strange words which come out with and completely different answer. I remember one of my parents saying that only certain people knew how do to the cryptic crossword. 

Again, in England, I had a friend who bought the Torygraph The Telegraph on a Sunday, despite his politics. He only ever bought the paper for its cryptic crossword. 

I remember eating breakfast with him as he puzzled over his page of the funnies. 

"Do you do the cryptic crossword, Pand?" he asked. 

"No, the clues you don't make any sense. I think you either get them, or you don't," was my response. 

"You can learn, you just have to know a few tricks." 

Not that he taught me them. He made mention that some crossword setters have their own quirks, but cryptic crosswords are a learned skill - a bit like sudoku, which I can fly through the easy ones with no issue now.

I also remember that somehow, I managed to get a clue out. The answer was scimitar. 

Anyway, move forward twenty-five years and thanks to the joys of the internet, I've discovered the Minute Cryptic on Instagram. Somebody who posts one clue a day and gives a description of how to solve the bugger the following day. 

It's awesome. 

After watching his daily videos for a few weeks, this morning, I got the clue out of my own. 

It's great. 

It doesn't hurt that he's a bit cute too.

I feel like my life has been transformed. I'm feeling a bit more more worthy. 

What's next? Piano lessons? Singing lessons? Life drawing classes. 

But learning how to do cryptic crosswords feels like a good thing. 

Today's song: 

Sunday Stealing: The Second Time Around

 I did these questions early on last weekend, then I find out later that Bev at Sunday Stealing changed them about and another set of questions we're loaded. 

Anyway, I've done these questions for myself, but as I'm making another dig at my novel, I'm going to answer the questions as my protagonist, Arkie. Arkie and I have a bit in common, but it will be fun to see the differences in our answers. 

Good writers should know their characters well. 

So, here we go. I'll hand over to Arkie Reynolds, 55-year-old teacher who lives in Richmond, Victoria (like me - write what you know). You'll find out more here. 

Here we go. 

Reveal yourself in 24 easy steps

I am not:

Overly happy at the moment. There's too much to do in the next year and it is very overwhelming. 

I hurt:

From the inside out. Existential crises will do this to you. I think what hurts me the most is that my friends don't understand the predicament in which I find myself. 

I love:

Lazarus. Lazarus? Somebody I shouldn't love, but I do. Would I ever tell him? Of course not. That is against our rules. I also love my cat, Edgar and my Doc Marten boots. I used to love the old beetle I drove at university and going yabbying in the creek near home when I was a kid. Velvet Soap (Laundry soap for the non-Australians out there) is the best thing to catch yabbies (freshwater shrimp). 

I hate:

That the government are forcing me to dismantle my life. It's crap. This is what has lead to my existential crisis.

I fear:

Having to rely on people. I'm far to independent, and I won't, I cannot ask people for help with this situation I'm in. 

I hope:

For a change in government so that these draconian laws get changed that are having me leave the earth. Yes, I know, it's all a bit Soylent Green or The Island, but as the next election is not due until well after my ETD (Expected Termination Date) there is no point dwelling on it or being optimistic. 

I regret:

Getting married. Damien was the worst decision of my life, even if I did learn a lot about survival and my own inner strength, given the opportunity, I would never have gone near the arsehole. I don't even hope he's happy. 

I cry:

Long after the event. No matter what it is. Stoic is my middle name. (Actually, it's not, it's Ambrose, after St Ambrose, the patron saint of beekeepers. Catholic mother. )

I care:

That my cat is taken care of after I'm gone. I don't give a fig about anything else, as long as he ends up somewhere happy and loved when I'm not here, I'll be happy. 

I always:

Go for a walk when I'm stressed. Currently it feels like I'm walking a marathon a day. Walking by water helps a lot. Thankfully the river is not too far away. 

I long:

For a better sex life. The older you get, the longer it is between drinks. It sucks. 

I listen:

To eighties punk and ska most of the time. There's nothing wrong with Madness, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, Siouxie and the Banshees. The more badly employed drums and bass, the better the song. 

I hide:

Myself, most of the time, from most people. It's been said I am very hard to get to know. 

I write:

As little as I can. I hate writing school reports. Bane of my life. 

I miss:

The feeling of freedom I had as a young child. I used to go out with the kids next door early in the morning and come back for dinner. I can't remember what we used to get up to, but it was fabulous. Kids today can't do that now. 

I search:

For the reason this shocking government was put into power. 20 years of conservative rule has done nothing for the country. (This is in Arkie's world - thankfully, Australia had a change of government a few years ago - the alternative if frightening.)

I learn:

I want to learn, before I go, to do the following: 

• Sing
• Make the most perfect Patatas Bravas (That sounds like me... Pandora)
• To do butterfly stroke and not like I'm having an epileptic fit in the pool
• Skate, in any form. I have no sense of balance and I'm afraid of hurting myself.

I feel:

Quite a bit hopeless most of the time. It's a new thing for me.

I know:

That what's happening to me is not right, yet I am powerless to stop it. It's bone-chillingly awful, but it's something I can't see a way out of. 

I want:

I want to know what Laz really thinks about me. We don't talk on that level. We're kids of the seventies, teenagers of the eighties. Gen X. In other words, we're emotional cripples, or whatever the polite term is for it now. 

I worry:

That by the end of this regime, anybody with a modicum of chutzpah, self-determination and a willingness to go against the grain will be dead. Say goodbye to all the writers, artists, creatives and grandmothers. It's like the opposite of America's draconian abortion laws. They don't give stuff how you come in, as long as you work your life away and leave when you're no longer of use. 

I wish:

I wish I'd invested in Microsoft and Apple stock in the early eighties. 

I have:

My wedding dress balled up at the back of the cupboard, some twenty-five years after the event. I don't know why I never got rid of it. It's followed me from share house to share house. Daft. 

I give:

To animal charities, and animal charities only. 

I wait:

For nothing. And if I queue, there can be no more than two in front of me. I don't queue for food and if you're more than ten minutes late, then stuff you. I won't text to find out where you are.

I need:

More of the following: 

• Sex
• Good patatas bravas
• My Doc Martens to be re-souled for the umpteenth time
• Time

Lots of love,

Arkie Reynolds

Today's song: 

The Bringer of Light is Back

 He's back. 

He's back sitting on my office chair and coming up for cuddles when I lie on the couch. He's roaming around and asking for treats. He's walking over the keyboard like he owns the place. 

He's just home. 

Part of me feels bad. He's had a wonderful time with my friends, who seem to like him as much as he likes them. They have a big place in a nice suburb, so he's got a lot more room to move about. 

On arriving at their place, he was initially thrilled to see me, his tail went bolt upright and vibrated. Then he went and hid under the table, staring at me with his death stare. Of course, after a few minutes, he came for a pat, and a wander, before giving me the death stare from under the table. Rinse and repeat. 

Then I hear about what he's been up do. Such as finally, after ten days, he decided that coming in for a cuddle in the morning was a good thing. And according to K, he has the sweetest purr (which he does). 

He also joined P on a big conference call with a heap of general managers, only to have him jump into his lap for a pat, then to have him turn around and poke his bum in the camera - something he does with me on a daily basis. 

They can't quite get over that I've named him Lucifer. What they don't realise is that Lucifer is not a demon. He's the bringer of light. And in that, the name suits he. 

But he's home, and he seems happy, and I'm happy. 

What makes me happier is that they've offered to have him back, and are happy, with my challenging work travel schedule, to take on my second-hand house panther. The mother guilt is hard enough - but having cat sitters who love your animal makes all the difference. 

Time to see if he'll cuddle up behind my legs tonight...

Today's song: 

The Sting

I'm home. 

I got home in one piece, somehow, after spending the 24 hours prior curled around the loo in my hotel apartment in Darwin. 

Packing my bags was hard, mostly due to no energy, plus my ribs and stomach were aching from throwing up. Yes, it was that sort of gastro that rips you apart in every which way from Sunday. 

Somehow, I got ready for the airport and checked out of the hotel in preparation for my 1.20 a.m. flight (Yes, this is a real thing - welcome to the Darwin airline departure schedule. It's crap.)

On arrival at the airport, after checking in my bag and making my way through security, I went to find a few supplies. As I'd been lying on the couch moaning when I wasn't sitting on the loo for the whole day, I hadn't had a chance to do a Woolies run. 

There is only one shop in Darwin Airport. A multitude of bars, the odd eatery including a random Red Rooster, but one shop. 

Please tell me how the following items ended up costing me $42?

As it was really hot in Darwin yesterday, I was dehydrated - and in need of a bit of sugar, so I purchased a bottle of lemonade. 

To add to the sugar theme, I was finally feeling a little peckish, but I wanted something that wasn't salty, wasn't chocolate and something that wouldn't be too hard on the stomach. Why does the Darwin Airport shop only have Haribo sweets? Why couldn't I find a bag of snakes? Snakes would have done just as well. (Snakes rule when it comes to lollies). So yeah, a packet of gummy bears made it to the counter. 

The last item was a necessity, seeing I was still racing to the loo in the hour before I left for the airport. Imodium. 

How does an eight pack of Imodium, which costs around $12 at Chemist Warehouse, have a justified price of $20 at this rip off shop? 

Unfortunately, all three items were necessary. But still!

Airports are rip off merchants. 

And yes, I know I should have some emergency Imodium in my toiletry bag for Darwin, as Bali belly doesn't only happen in Bali, but all over the tropics.  It's not a bad thing to have in there, joining the ibuprofen, antacid and prescribed sleeping tablets for emergencies. I should also buy a pack of emergency snakes for my day pack. Jelly snakes fix lots of things, including grumpy testers, agitated subject matter experts and the odd first-same friend you meet when your flight is delayed. 

Begrudgingly, I chugged down two Imodium with a slug of lemonade, while chomping on some gummy bears to get some energy to get on the flight. 

I think being stung like this hurts more than my rib cage - which is still aching from all the puking. 

But at least I'm home and the gastro is over. 

Today's song: 

Post-Gastro

 I'm in a state I will refer to as post-gastro. 

I don't know if I've had gastro or food poisoning or been effected by the heat. 

Thankfully, nothing has come out since early this morning, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. 

And I'm getting on a plane in four hours. 

It's not fun. 

But I've done my blog and I will be okay when I get home to my own bed. 

Blah. 

Today's song:

Not tonight

 I’ve been throwing up and I don’t feel very good.

Very glad to be going home tomorrow night. 

I think I’m okay now, I want to go to bed. I think it was something I had at the festival unfortunately, it wasn’t alcoholic. I only purchased a Sri Lankan iced tea.

I want to go to bed. I think it was something I drink at the festival unfortunately, it wasn’t alcoholic.

Bugger.

Oh well.

Movie Review: Being John Malkovich

 Movie Number 23 of 2024

The Movie: Being John Malkovich  (25th anniversary screening)

The Cinema: The Deckchair Cinema, Darwin

Stars: 4.5

Darwin provided me with the best birthday present, that being the Anniversary screening of Being John Malkovich. I have loved that film for 25 years. I love Charlie Kaufman. I love John Cusack. I love Cameron Diaz playing completely against type. And I love the absurdity of it all. 

I managed to corral a couple of my workmates to come along too, all of whom had not seen this little gem of cinematic absurdity. There was African food being served at the cinema, it was a warm and balmy night, a beer ticket was given to us on the way in - the cinema, aware that there was a loud, noisy event taking place on the lawns at the adjacent Parliament House, had half-price tickets and the drink voucher to smooth over the noise factor. As it happens, the noise wasn't intrusive. 

For me, watching a movie on the big screen from a deck chair, as a rudely beautiful sunset occurs just behind the screen, with beer, and bats flying into the trees, and geckos running across the screen, and a full moon coming up behind you, on a balmy Darwin night, is just about the most perfect way to watch a film. 

Being John Malkovich hasn't changed in those 25 years, but it is still very funny. As cut classics go, you don't get much better. I'd forgotten how gorgeous Catherine Keener was in her younger days. John Cusack is perfect as the hapless Craig, a puppeteer who begins a day job in a strange company doing the filing, when he finds a portal into the mind of John Malkovich. Cameron Diaz's performance as Lottie, Craig's long-suffering animal loving wife is pure joy. It also takes about half the film to work out who she is, so out of type is this role. Oh, and Malkovich is Malkovich - a man stuck in a very strange place. 

Malkovich. 

25 years on, this is still fresh and funny. Charlie Kaufman, who wrote the film, is a cinematic god. Spike Jonze's direction is sound. I still find it hard to believe that he also directed the Jackass movies. 

As I said, the Gods lined things up for me. A favourite film. A favourite cinema experience. A full moon. A feed of Chinese (because I didn't feel like African - was in the mood for sweet and sour pork, which I bought on the way down. 

I feel very blessed. 

And three out of four of my colleagues loved their first viewing of this little gem. 

Today's Song: 

Sunday Stealing: The Last Time

 It seems something went wrong with the Sunday Stealing questions, so I'm doing this next set (rather than writing about the movie I saw today.)

The questions come from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU ....

1 - Handwrote a letter to a friend?

Oh, that has to be about ten years ago. But, I did sent handwritten post cards from France last year. Does that count?

2 - Cried?

I shed a few tears at the funeral of a friend in the second week of August. I cry at films all the time, but my friend's passing hit me hard. 

3 - Fell over?

I trip over my feet all the time, but I haven't fallen over for years, thank goodness. 

4 - Bought a present for someone?

On the weekend. I got some presents for my cat sitters - if they do indeed give me back my cat at the end of this. I'm wondering about this - they seem to love the little critter. 

5 - Had a pajama day?

I had a couple of pyjama days two months ago when I had COVID. I don't have many pyjama days - too much to do and I need to get out of the house. 

6 - Watched a movie that you wouldn't have gone to the cinema to see?

Madame Web. I started watching it on a streaming service the other night - turned it off - it was awful. 

7 - Stayed up all night?

About a year ago. I was coming back from Darwin and my red-eye flight was delayed. My flight was supposed to go at 1.30 am - it finally left at five am. By the time the plane got back to Melbourne it was around 9 am. It wasn't a fun night. 

8 - Bought something on eBay?

That would be a couple of years ago - I buy a lot online, but I hardly ever use Ebay. 

9 - Colored in a coloring book?

It would be a few years ago now. I helped Blarney's twins with some colouring when they were about four. They're now fourteen-years-old. 

10 - Told someone you love them?

I told lots of my friends I loved them today (mainly for remembering my birthday). And I tell my cat I love him a couple of times a day. 

11 - Kissed someone?

You mean something more than a kiss on the cheek, or giving my cat a kiss on the head? That would be a couple of weeks ago. 

12 - Went to the doctors?

I had a telehealth appointment with my doctor a few weeks ago for a prescription matter. Thankfully, I'm healthy. 

13 - You traveled by train?

I was on a Melbourne suburban train at the end of last month when I went to a matinee show on a Sunday. I was on the Eurostar, travelling from London to Paris last October. I love European train travel. 

14 - Screamed because you were scared?

Saturday. I think I let out a few little screams when I was in the Darknight - Flight exhibit. It was very creepy. 

15 - Visited your hometown?

I visited my mum and step-dad over Christmas last year. 

16 - Went on vacation?

Last year in October - I was in England and France for two weeks. It was fantastic. The project also had three weeks down time over Christmas and New Year, which was a necessary evil.

17 - Finished reading a book?

Hopefully tonight. I have about 40 pages of Suzie Miller's Prima Facie to have read for book group tomorrow night. I finished Julian Amis' The Zone of Interest about a week ago. Chilling. 

18 - Went to a church service?

Ergh. I'm not a Christian and I'm not religious, but I went to a service that was being held at my cousin's Church in Sydney. It was a high Anglican church - lots of smells and bells and blokes in dresses. My cousin is married to the then head priest of the place. I was amazed the lovely old 19th century beauty didn't fall down around me. 

19 - Wore a hat?

I wore a baseball cap over the weekend here in Darwin to keep the sun off my face. I wore it to aqua aerobics. 

20 - Turned off your mobile phone? 

Tonight. During the screening of Being John Malkovich. I don't like being THAT person in the cinema - or in this case, outside resting on a deckchair. 

Today's song: 

The Wave Pool

Like most things in Darwin, the wave pool and its aqua aerobics class is best tackled with a sense of humour and pool noodle. 

Okay, the aqua aerobic class does not require a pool noodle, but the sense of humour is needed to deal with the fact that the day before your 56th birthday, you've taken yourself off to an aqua aerobics class, the domain of "old people". I mean, it's not enough that at this age you go up a section on most forms and that your Seniors Card is only five years away from being mailed out to you - and that the obligatory poo test will be sent by the government to your postal address in the not-too-distant future. All that fun crap. 

But aqua aerobics is the domain of the oldies. 

But what they don't tell you is how much fun it is. 

And it is a completely judgement-free zone. 

You're surrounded by around forty other middle-aged to late-middle-aged people who are jumping about in chest height water. for forty-five minutes. 

I turned up on time lathered up with sunscreen, stashed my stuff on a sun lounge and got in. 

It was so much fun. Also, the locals who turn up to these regular classes are very friendly too. 

Such a good way to start the morning. 

After class and feeling as if I'd done a reasonable work out, I lay on a sun lounger reading under an umbrella reading my book until the actual waves were turned on. 

I don't understand how they get the waves working in the wave pool - other than they turn them on for 20 minutes and give what feels like a three-foot swell for about 20 minutes. It's great fun. You don't get sand in your bathers, the waves are not unmanageable, and they flatten out after a bit. They have lots of tyres and pool noodles around the place to help you float. Brilliant fun. (Although the Uber driver who brought me back from the art gallery this afternoon swore he would never go back - he said he nearly drowned there. When I asked him if he could swim, he said he had a few lessons but was no good at it. Personally, I reckon anybody coming here for more than three months should have the ability to swim up there with English proficiency. When a large majority of people who drown here are recent migrants, this might help the numbers go down).

Anyway, after a turn in the waves, where the most frightening thing was a kid in an inner tube, I got out, went and had breakfast at a favourite cafe and came home, knowing I'd had a little too much sun and a quiet afternoon was in order. 

Regardless of exercising with people who are in the next age bracket on standarised forms, a touch too much sun, it's been a good day. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: I am...

 I had a lovely chill day in Darwin, on my own, having a mooch, a pedicure, chatting with friends, going to a show at the Darwin Festival and night swimming - all makes for a nice day, 

Anyway, now on with this week's questions, brought to you, as always from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

Reveal yourself in 18 easy steps

I am not:

• Skinny
• Rude
• Neurotypical
• Religious
• Victorian (I'm from South Australia - big difference)

I hurt:

• Nothing if I can help it.
• All over, but that is just middle age. 

I love:

• My cat
• Ice cream and donuts
• Autumn days
• Arthouse cinema
• Australian rock music
• Sleep ins
• Being fit
• Smelling good (particularly woody, earthy oriental scents - or rose)

I hate:

• Walking backwards (or sitting backwards in a moving vehicle)
• Not having transition times between activities
• Essendon Football Club
• Sitting in the middle seat on long flights
• Uncomfortable shoes
• Humidity
• Going to bed without having a quick shower

I fear:

• Huntsman spiders
• Crocodiles
• Evangelical right-wing politics
• Dying slowly and in pain

I hope:

• My cat still loves me when I get home
• That America sorts itself out
• That our leader of the opposition gets taken out by one of his dog-whistling harpies.
• That I somehow am able to get a European passport so I can go live and work in Paris.

I regret:

• Very little
• Not applying myself more the first time I went to university
• Not discovering exercise earlier. 

I cry:

• Rarely
• Or when I do it's me tearing up at movies
• I don't tend to cry at funerals

I care:

• A bit too much about stuff that doesn't matter
• And allegedly I have a big heart. Allegedly. 

I always:

• Shower twice a day and clean my teeth twice a day
• Iron my duvet cover and pillowcases
• Have at least two books on the go
• Use deodorant without aluminium in the formulation

I long:

• To see what life is like with a partner
• For world peace
• To see Donald Trump in prison
• And Peter Dutton out of politics because he is truly awful. 
• For the time to write more

I listen:

• To audiobooks
• And strange snippets of conversation on public transport
• And I love the sound of rain on tin roofs. 

I hide:

• My feelings a lot of the time. Allegedly I have a good poker face. 
• My true self a lot of the time - force of habit
• The odd bar of chocolate at the back of the freezer and forget it's there. 

I write:

• For a living
• Everyday
• Fiction and non-fiction
• With the hope that one day I might have a book published

I miss:

• England and France
• My friend who passed a way a couple of weeks ago, especially when I'm up here in Darwin
• Cooler weather, especially when I'm up here in Darwin
• Regular cuddles
• My cat, when I'm away from home. 

I search:

• For a way to lose weight now that I'm over forty
• For the time to write
• For the ability to write a wonderful sentence that takes your breath away.

I learn:

• Everything I can about anything I can
• That having faith in people normally works out
• That one day I might get on one of those scooters that race around Darwin

I feel:

• A bit strange that I'm turning fifty-six on Monday
• A little bit lonely that I'm on my own in Darwin on the weekend, but I have got through one day of it, so all is well
• Grateful I have wonderful friends
• Like I could use a holiday.

I know:

• How to crochet and knit
• That the middle road is okay most of the time
• What it is to be comfortable around ghosts
• That listening to Madness always makes you feel good about life. (One Step Beyond!)

I want:

• To live in Paris for a year and get my French where I want to to be
• To publish a book
• Get back to Melbourne and get my cat back, because I miss him
• To exercise more, as it makes me feel good. 

I worry:

• About the state of the planet
• That my cat sitters won't give my cat back (they will, but I think they're falling for the critter)
• About getting older and being alone
• That the Adelaide Crows wont win any more games this year - which is a possibility. 

I wish:

• For world peace and a free Palestine
• That the women of America would rise up against their draconian law makers
• The Adelaide Crows were having a better year
• And that they would shut up about that Australian Olympic Breakdancer already - that's been given too much oxygen
• And that Donald Trump ends up rotting in prison. 

I have:

• A full day ahead of me tomorrow - aqua aerobics, followed by a trip to the Museum and Mindil Beach Markets
• Good friends
• My health
• A sense of humour
• A hard, but interesting job

I give:

• To charity
• A lot of attention to the Arts
• Willingly if people are in trouble
• A lot of attention to women's rights

I wait:

• For very little as I get impatient
• For the clothes to dry on the line rather than putting them in a clothes' dryer
• For the day when society works out that capitalism isn't that great a thing.

I need:

• A cuddle
• A few weeks off
• A holiday
• An extra day in the week
• More Madness in my life.

   

Today's song: 

The Weekend

 I'm not sure I thought this through well enough. I'm in Darwin for the weekend. 

On the plus side of things: 

• It's warm up here
• I'm getting a lot of work done
• I've managed to snaffle a desk for Monday, my work laptop is baggsing a desk in one of the offices (first in, best dressed)
• I get to see a bit of Darwin city on the weekend during festival time

On the not so plus side: 

• It's my birthday weekend and I'm alone up here (well sort of)
• The place isn't quite the same without my mate who passed away a few weeks ago
• I'm missing the cat
• I'm missing a get together of the French trip girlies for one of us who's just made some big life choices - and I wish I could be there

I've made my choices and all will be well. The birthday is on Monday, I'm hoping for a low-key sort of day. I've got a ticket to see an old favourite film on Monday night at the Deckchair Cinema (I adore Being John Malkovich - great film). That the weather is warm is enough of a present for the day. 

I'm also not going anywhere this weekend. I could have taken a tour and gone somewhere, but I've decided to go the Darwin route, exploring the city. 

Tomorrow, I've promised myself at attempt at a Pokemon thing - catch 200 Pokemon in the day. This will get me onto the next level. I've been on the current one for well over a year, and as I'll be wandering around the city, I'll have plenty of chances to catch the buggers. 

Reindert and I are scheduled to have a chat tomorrow morning. 

I might go and get a pedicure. It's been an age since I've had one - and my feet are a bit crusty. 

I still have to read the book group book. Book group is on Tuesday. The book is Prima Facie by Suzie Millar. I've seen the play - and I will get the book read. 

I'll do some exercise - lots of swimming. Sunday morning I've booked an aqua aerobics class down at the local wave pool. It looks fun. I don't care if I'm surrounded by older people. 

There's the museum and art gallery, which are supposed to be very good, to have a look around. 

There's the Botanical Gardens. 

I've got a ticket to the other Darkfield event at the Darwin Festival. Another day, another shipping container. 

I might see what else is playing around town. 

And I might get a coffee with the other bloke who's about the place from the project - but we're both introverts who are peopled-out, so I don't feel the need to seek him out. I'm sure he feels the same. 

What's got me a little is that I didn't expect to want to be home this weekend. I wish I was meeting up with the girls in the bar in Brunswick. I rather wish I was going to the gym on Sunday morning then going out for breakfast. Or finding a feed of Spanish food on Saturday night. 

It's alright. I just underestimated the emotions around this. 

The strange occurrence that happened Sunday night hasn't repeated. On going to bed and turning out the light, it felt like somebody was sitting down next to me on the bed. I didn't freak out. I knew I was safe. yet the presence was real. I figure it was my mate coming to say hello, of sorts. I haven't 'felt' him around since. I'm wondering if my colleague who arrives Sunday will have a similar happening. 

There's enough to do, some challenges, and lots of things to discover. 

I'll be fine. 

Today's song:

Another Letter from the Cat

 Dear Mummy (you bitch),

I've decided that if you can't beat 'em, join em. 

The hurdy-gurdy people don't quite know what to do with me, so they left me to it. I thought if I could make a nuisance of myself, they might send me back to you. 

I've taken to sitting in the he-hurdy-gurdy man's chair. I like to mark my territory. 

Just like I sit on your work chair at all times of the day and night. 

He he. 

This morning, just to make my presence known, I went in to see them at six-o-clock to let them know my food bowl was empty. I don't even do that with you - there's no point. You just try to give me a cuddle and I don't like that.

Maybe if I'm annoying enough they'll send me home.

When are you coming home?

But so you know, I do quite like it here. The hurdy-gurdy people and looking after me well, and unlike you, they don't try to pick me up. 

You could learn a thing or two from them. 

I will still find some ways to pay you back when you come to collect me. 

Lots of love,

Lucifer

Today's song: 

Darwin Festival Review: Seance

 The Show: Seance

The Outlay: $20

Multiple sessions daily until 25 August

Stars: 4

Go sit in the dark in a shipping container they said. It'll be fun they said. 

My colleague, Sam, pinged me during the morning. "We're going to go to Seance tonight. Wanna come along?"

"Sure." I'll go to the opening of an envelope. Why not. 

It was a mad dash to find an Uber back to town from the depot, where I'd spent the day, got back to my room, dumped my stuff and met the other three in the lobby just after five. The Sam and Ani and Prakash and me wandered over to the lawns outside Government House to have this 'experience'. 

And an experience it was.

You pay your money and go at your allotted time, knowing that they have a strict lockout policy. A pommy guy with a lurid green manicure gives you a rundown of the event. 

• The experience lasts 20 minutes
• It occurs in complete darkness
• You're to turn off your phones and put smart watches in a place where no light can seep out. They're very militant about this. 
• If you're claustrophobic, have PTSD or are very sensitive, this probably isn't the show for you. 
• Once the door is closed, there is no chance to get out. 
• Also, as you'll be wearing headphones. If things get a bit much, take them off and you'll be up for the most expensive meditation session you've ever had. 

In having a few words with the guy before the show, I asked him what to expect. He said that it would play to my fears, but you were safe. I asked if there were spiders in there. There are no spiders - or snakes

We filed in. The guy with the green talons explained it all again. We sat down in the old theatre seats, shoved on our headphones and the experience commenced. 

Wow. 

What Darkfield has done with Seance is produced an incredible soundscape which really does scare the bejesus out of you. You're asked to keep your hands on the table in front of you. You feel the vibrations. You hear bells ringing. You're taken on a story of an active seance where you are made to believe that you're in the presence of ghosts. 

It was very unsettling in places, as you take in the vibrations and the soundscape as it goes on around you. As you're in complete darkness you don't know what's real or not. You're asked to keep your hands flat on the table but puzzled by the footsteps which are apparently going on around you. 

For me, after a while, it was a case of mind over matter. You're safe. It's 20 minutes. If it's too much, take your head set off - which I did near the end when it felt like somebody was whispering in my ear and I wasn't liking it at all. 

And then it was over at 20 odd stragglers emerged from the darkened shipping container with varying senses of relief.

This is definitely worth a look, even if for me, I went and had a nice soothing ice cream at Johnn Johnns before going to the supermarket and going home. There is something restorative about Snickers and Black Magic ice cream. (The latter is like a vegan bounty bar - coconut and dark chocolate. Yum).

 As somebody who doesn't particularly like being scared, and with a fairly brief bereavement on board, i coped with this well. 

I was more amazed what the Darfield people are doing with sound and vibration. 

Today's song: 

You Play Pokemon?

Yes, I play Pokemon Go. I have played Pokemon Go for many years. It's one of my endearing features, like my slight lisp when I try and say photosynthesis or my disdain for not sharing dessert or my angry need to put tomato sauce on eggs. 

So, fancy my surprise when I walked into the test lab today to find one of our testers waiting for a raid. 

"You play Pokemon?" I asked. 

"You play Pokemon?" they responded. 

"It's something to do when I'm out walking. And it acts like a pedometer."

"That is does."

"Want to join a raid group?" they asked. 

"Sure."

"You'll like it, Colleague X has a geoblocker. We get access to all sorts of Pokemon we never see here in these raids."

"Cool."

"My challenge for this weekend is on Sunday, to collect 200 Pokemon and get past Level 40."

"Been there, done that."

"Obviously nothing better to do."

This was one of the highlights of today. 

Today was all about work. 

Today had me look at the wall of work ahead of me and ponder just how it will get done. I coordinated meetings. I got a couple of documents written. I had a couple of sour lollies which blew my head off. I had a lovely lunch with my lovely friend at a great cafe. And I went for a walk with my colleague, showing them the sights of the Darwin Waterfront, the Deckchair Cinema, and a bit of the Festival, while learning that my favourite ice cream shop will be open for another few weeks. It was going to close on 3 August, but they appear to have delayed the closing until after the Festival is over. 

My big win for today was working out what to do for the weekend. 

One day I'll take myself off to the Museum and Art Gallery, which although small, look pretty good. 

And there will be a visit to the Wave Pool at the waterfront, where I will go and get pummelled by the man made waves for a bit. Jay went a few weeks ago when she was up here and she said it was awesome. 

I wouldn't swim at the beaches here. There are crocodiles. 

And the other thing I want to do is catch 200 pokemon so I can finally get past Level 40. 

And maybe teach myself to ride a scooter. But that's a maybe. As I'm on my own up here, I can't humiliate myself by falling off in front of people I know. But that one's a maybe. 

Today's song: 

A Letter from the Cat

 Dear Mummy (you bitch), 

It's been 48 hours since you deserted me in the suburb of Mordialloc which when you spend an eternity in a box, must be near the back end of nowhere. Know that you will not be forgiven. You put me in that little box and drove me 45 minutes, all the way talking to some bloke on the phone, ignoring me and my needs. When I tried to tell you of my disapproval, you just laughed at me. 

Regardless, I am now ensconced in the home of these people who speak this strange guttural language to me - but somehow, we understand each other. 

I hid.

They left me alone. 

My sort of people. 

But 48 hours on, I've decided to go a different tack. These people who talk this strange language, which sounds a bit like hurdy-gurdy, don't seem bothered by my diffidence. Rather, they laugh at me. 

So, I've decided to treat them like I treat you. 

The bloke one likes to talk into the boxes on the table like you do. 

So, as I do with you, I supervised him. 

It took a bit to work out where to point my arse to get the best angle for the camera when he's talking out loud to the box, like you do, but we got it in the end so they could see my best angles. 

I like supervising. I'm very good at supervising. 

The other thing about this place is there are lots of windows. And lots of birds. 

This is not a bad thing. 

I'm sure the hurdy-gurdy he-person was very pleased with the supervision. 

I'm keeping myself occupied keeping an eye on the birds. 

Like you, they won't let me outside to take care of these pesky flying critters. You are all terrible people denying me this one joy. It is my birthright. You all should be flogged for it. 

But at least I'm keeping busy. 

When you come back, I will ignore you, because you are the worst mummy in the world because you have deserted me, and I am very miserable. 

I hope, wherever you are, you're as miserable as I am here with the funny people in the big house with an abundance of birds that they won't let me eat. 

I'm sure you will wander back whenever you're ready. Just be prepared for the retribution. 

Hugs and kisses, 

Lucifer

(Mummy's note. He really is living his best life with my wonderful friends. He might not want to come home.)

Today's song:

Sunday Questions

Another Sunday, another trip to the airport. 

What is good is that I have the Sunday Questions to get me through the packing and cleaning and all the other things I have to do before I take off to the airport, it lets me get some stuff done and brings order to the day. Thankfully, I'm nearly packed. The cat is at my friends' place, living the life of Reilly. There is washing on the line. It's all good. 

Questions, as always, have been supplied by Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

1. I am looking forward to ...

Getting my cat back. And sure, it's going to be in two weeks, and he's only been gone for a night (he's staying with friends while I'm away on business). but I miss the little critter. It's not the same sitting here typing without him walking all over the keyboard. 

(Job: Paid the council rates)

2. Least favorite words

Here's a few:

• Awesome (I only use it ironically)
• Super
• Moist (only to be applied to fruit cakes)
• Utilise (most over used word in modern business writing)

(Job: Follow up on a bit of masons' business.)

3. If I ruled the world...

I would ensure that men who abuse women were tried and punished and that this was taken far more seriously than it has been in this country. At present, at least a woman a week is killed by an intimate partner - and until now, men have got away with it. 

I'd also like to see that schmozzle that is Palestine sorted. There has been too much killing. 

Not that I have an answer to either of these awful questions. Mind you, it was refreshing to see the British standing up to the far-right wing in the thousands, telling them where to go. 

(Job - another masons's follow up)

4. Favorite websites and blogs

I think about the websites I visit more. There's our local newspaper, The Age, then The Guardian for more of an international slant and the New York Times. Not a day goes past when I don't visit the Bureau of Meteorology and I spend a lot of time on theatre and film websites, especially imdb.com and rottentomatoes.com.au.

(Job: Replaced the battery in the smoke alarm)

5. Things I do for myself

Lots of things - read books, see films and theatre productions, go for walks, visit the gym, go out with friends, have semi-regular massages, keep up to date with my check ups, even go on holidays. These are all self-care items.

(Job: Cut my toenails.)

6. Weekly rituals

Does washing my sheets and towels once a week count?

I also try and visit Blarney and Barney for a cup of tea once a week. Been doing it for years. Was over there last night for a barbeque. The others there were a bit amazed that their cats let me pick them up and give them a cuddle. :)

(Job: Peel some eggs for an early dinner tonight.)

7. DIYs I want to try

I'm not really into DIY - though I'm handy putting together flat packs. I already do handicrafts too. 

(Job: Wash the bathroom floor)

8. On my shopping list

My grocery shopping won't be done until I get to Darwin tomorrow lunchtime. I've got a lot of things I need up there already, but almond milk, Sodaly soda cans (if you know, you know) some sushi for lunch (Woolies sushi in Darwin is very good), fruit, salad. Lots of perishables. 

(Job: Wash the toilet floor)

9. Places to see in your town

There's a lot to see in Melbourne. Here are a few things that I take visitors to:

• The Eureka Tower - go up and see Melbourne from 88 floors up. 
• The Laneways - a well cool way to spend an afternoon looking around and window shopping
• The National Gallery Victoria is excellent
• You have a Melbourne coffee
• And maybe get your hipster on in Fitzroy or Brunswick
• Or have lunch in St Kilda - taking the tram down there - of course
• Or visit the Melbourne Cricket Ground and watch a game of Australian Rules Football in winter - or cricket in summer. 

(Job: Mop the kitchen floor)

10.Road trip must-haves

Good music. Lots of water. A decent map if you don't have access to the internet. Good company. Sunglasses. All of these were needed when I did a road trip with a colleague a few weeks back. 

(Job: Start the ironing)

11. Guilty pleasures

• IKEA hotdogs
• Romantic comedies
• Married at First Sight - terrible television. I like Masterchef too, but that has a lot more of a quality factor.
• White chocolate
• Smelling dogs paws

(Job: Iron today's outfit for the plane. _

12. Things I'd rather be doing right now

I'd love to be in a beer garden with friends, or in a movie theatre. Not doing my ironing and packing for another business trip. 

(Job: Another masons' email (and yes, I do all the masons' paperwork in one hit.))

13. Books I'd like to read this year

I really want to get around to Paul Murray's The Bee Sting - I've heard very good things about it - and it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year. So many books, so little time.

(Job: Ironed the trousers)

14. Lessons learned

Too many, too often. Save 20% of your salary and invest it. It's amazing what can happen when you do. 

(Job: Iron the teatowels)

15. Vacations to take

Again, too many places, not enough money or time. Vietnam and Cambodia are an option sometime next year. Or Japan. Or France... I just want to look around somewhere else for a while that isn't Darwin. 

(Job: Iron the tops)

Extra question:   Olympic events I like to watch or follow

Umm, I'm not really into the Olympics, but I don't mind watching the gymnastics, the diving and the dressage. 

And the breakdancing has me scratching my head. The Australian breakdancer has been getting a lot of stick over here, and for good reason.

(Job: Get the washing off the line)

Today's song: 

Mother Guilt

I am not a mother of any humans. However, I am the mother of a cat, which is the next best thing. 

When you're a cat, you are a mix of things. House demon. Tiny baby. Destructive life force. Apex predator. And most importantly, David from Schitt's Creek. 

Today, I shipped my boy down to my friends Kat and Pat's place, where he will reside for two weeks while I'm in Darwin. Kat has looked after him at my place a couple of times. They're both cat people, and over the years I've taken care of their two moggies, Julie and Betty - both now deceased (They were old when I knew them). 

As I'm away for two weeks once again, I needed somebody to mind him. I've told him that this is only temporary. He knows that I need to work so I can pay for his cat food. 

Kat and Pat said they'd take him in. He'd have their lovely large house to wander around, a room to call his own with a comfy chair, windows from which he can torment the birds (complete with a cat tree overlooking wetlands) and two people to love him, if he would allow it. 

I have absolutely no problem leaving him with them. He's a good house guest, even if he's likely to keep to himself. If they allowed them to, they'd probably want to keep him. 

So today I drove him down to theirs. While I was about, he wandered around, scoping out the place like a two-bit burgular. He knew where to find his litter, water and food. But when it came time for me to go, he was hiding in some shelves. The only sign of him was his two big yellow eyes and the look of utter disdain on his face and he could I see I was leaving. It's the same guilt trip he sends me on every time I leave the flat. 

Coming home, I send them a text to say the place felt empty. It was an hour or so since I left him there. They responded saying that hadn't seen him yet. 

My response was this. 

He's very good at sulking. 

I went about my life. Sorting out some stuff for masons, going around to Blarney and Barney's for a barbeque, where one of their cats let me soothe my guilt by letting me give them a big cuddle. (I've known them since they were kittens - I'm the one person they'll tolerate tormenting them like this. 

I come home from the barbeque. 

Six hours later, after dropping of the cat, I get this. 

My response:

And though he seems happy and is comfortable in his new digs for the next fortnight, and I know he'll be very well looked after and loved, I still feel like I've deserted him and have let him down as a mother. 

And if I feel like this about a cat, would I have been like if I'd had kids of my own?

Mother guilt is so very real. 

Today's song:

Theatre Review: English

 The Play: English by Sanaz Toossi

The Company: Melbourne Theatre Company

The Theatre: The Southbank Theatre

Until 29 August

Stars: 4.5

Five people meet in an English class in Tehran. Four students and their teacher. The students are there to prepare for their English language test that will allow them to work, study and live abroad. What an easy premise - not so fast. 

This is a little cracker of a play. Okay, winning the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2023 should be a tip off, but for the hour and a half in the auditorium, this had me wrapped around its little finger. 

As I said before, this is a play, set in a classroom where the teacher, Mahjan (Salme Geransar) insists that her students speak English instead of Farsi during their lessons. Each of the students has a different reason for being there. Elham (Maia Abbas) is trying to pass the test so she can come to university in Melbourne. Goli (Delaram Ahmadi) is looking for work abroad. Roya (Marjan Mesbahi) wants to go live with her son in Canada. Omid (Osamah Sami) is looking to return to America. 

What follows is an amazing play about language and identity, which is as funny as it is poignant. One of big themes of the play is finding who you are when you speak another language. Elham was particularly vociferous about how she only felt herself when she was speaking Farsi.  As a polyglot, this completely resonated with me as I know the fear, and the joy of speaking another language. I am completely different when I speak French, and this play got that feeling just right.

Also given a light touch, but an ever-present feeling was the undertone of the politics of the Middle East. The questions of staying or leaving were very present, but not forced. 

There's so much to love about this play. The cast of Australian-Middle Eastern actors gave a real feeling of authenticity to the play. They were all fabulous - nobody let the side down and they all shone. 

Tasnim Hussain's direction is fun and assured. The spats, the exercises and the relationships ring true. In the 90 minutes of the play nothing dragged. She's done a great job. 

Another thing I loved about this play is when the characters were speaking English, they spoke in heavily accented tones - Omid, took on an American persona, which when speaking in English. When they were allegedly speaking in Farsi, they spoke in broad Australian accents. I found this to be a great touch. 

This was a magic hour and a half. Well worth the price of a ticket, and the play has extended its run until 29 August. This is a fun and thought-provoking offering. 

Today's song:

Steak Night

 I have an enduring memory of having steak for dinner as a child. My grandfather was a butcher and meat was always plentiful, but steak was something that happened on occasion. Normally t-bone steaks, normally done in the vertical griller, which seemed to cook everything. Maybe vertical grillers were the air fryer of the seventies. Having a look on the web it appears you can still get vertical grillers - made famous for the fact that all the fat drips to the bottom, making things healthier. Vertical grills also made great toasted cheese and gherkin sandwiches. 

Steak was always accompanied with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots. After all, this was the seventies, and that's what dinner was about. Like all good Generation X kids, I was preparing the vegetables by the age of eight. Most kids could cook a basic meal by this age. It's part of what makes our generation scary now. 

Also, I rarely order steak when I go out. Very occasionally I'll have one at the Cavenagh Hotel in Darwin on a Monday night. The steak is excellent, as is their chimichurri sauce. 

Tonight, at Chez Moi, it was steak night. Lots has changed in the years since I was a child. The steak comes from the supermarket or the local butcher at the shopping centre. It feels like it's larger steak than we had as a kid. 

I swap out the mashed potato for sweet potatoes. The small amount of grilled onion has grown, and I throw into the pan some sliced mushrooms, because I love mushrooms - who knew. As a child I thought they were poisonous - then again, we collected our own mushrooms from the paddocks and the swamp. Again, from a young age, we knew what we were picking, and Mum always checked them over before eating them. 

Then there is what you put on steak. Which in our family was always butter and Worcestershire Sauce. 

Always. 

Poor man's Steak Diane. Gone is the cream and cognac and stock and cornflower, instead there's that wonderful, umami filled goodness that is Worcestershire Sauce - nothing but Lee and Perrins or Holbrooks, no generic muck (I will make an exception for Maggie Beer's Worcestershire Sauce, which is used in the Qantas Lounge to make Bloody Mary's which are incredible). 

It's of my food memories that I enjoy - and probably why I'm one of the few people who goes through an annual bottle of the much-maligned brown wonder.

Today's song: 

Preparations

 Getting ready is a part of the ritual. It always has been. 

After showering, cleansing, toning and moisturising, after the scrubbing of teeth, the decisions had to be made. What to wear. 

This is the thing with the modern Australian funeral. What do you wear? Do you go as you are? Or find a band t-shirt, some black jeans and a hoodie, or wear a suit - not that I own a suit. Do you go dark, or bright? There wasn't directive to turn up in colour. And the only band t-shirt that fits is the Ramones t-shirt sitting at the back of the drawer. My Nirvana one is too ratty to wear anywhere other than the gym. 

The dress was selected. Nothing too fancy, yet nothing too ordinary. Black with a simple pattern through it. Easy, warm enough, and comfortable. Nice enough, yet not too fancy. It's good to dress up a little for these occasions. It shows respect. 

Then a full face of makeup - nothing over-blown, but well applied. Simple, tasteful, understated. Waterproof mascara and eyeliner, because, you know, there might be tears. Muted lipstick, not my normal red. 

The simple and elegant route felt good, not that he'd mind. He wasn't one to stand on ceremony, but I think he'd like the small amount of effort that was made. Not that he was there to comment. Not that he'd make comment. He'd just be pleased that I turned up. 

My normal sleepers were swapped out for something different. The cherries. I don't wear dangly earrings very often, but they have a sense of whimsy about them. 

I put on boots. Elegant, comfortable knee-high leather boots - a change from the Docs and motorcycle boots. Respectable and responsible, instead of kick arse and casual. 

And then the perfume. Forgoing my normal selection, I went for the unopened box of Chanel #5, which has been sitting on my dresser for an age. There was a sense of satisfaction as I pulled off the cellophane of the pristine box. A spritz on the neck and the wrists and I was ready. As I placed the bottle back in the box back in the bottle, I felt grateful for having it there to use. It won't be used for special occasions.

Life is too short to not appreciate all you have. Things don't have to be saved for a rainy day, or for something special. 

I'll make sure I wear that perfume more often. I love the way it makes me feel. And I want to make memories when I'm wearing it for a friend who's not ashes in an urn at the front of a chapel. 

Today's song:

Anna at the Gallery

It's the look of wonder. 

The questioning. 

The wondering, when I told her that I wanted to visit old friends. 

She didn't look fussed when I told her that I wanted to visit paintings. The friends were metaphorical, not physical. 

"I don't come here often," she told me.

"You should. Good for the soul."

"So, what are we trying to find?"

"Bacon. Francis Bacon."

"Who?"

"Oh, he's dead. He was Irish and gay and messy, an iconoclast, and he speaks to the human condition better than anybody else. And I like to hunt him out. Hope you don't mind."

"I'm learning a lot."

"I'm glad."

We traveled from room to room, floor to floor, talking about all sorts of things, from her near impossible job, to my recently dead friend, to the joys of part time lovers, to the wonders of creativity. 

"Art is good for you," she stated. 

"Art makes us human."

We found some Drysdales - I resonate with his ochres - and the hardness. We discovered some John Bracks, out of Melbourne, so stark, yet so real. Of course, there were the Sidney Nolans and Albert Tuckers, staples of the big Australian galleries. 

"These guys give me a sense of place. 

"Do you think you'll find this Bacon dude?"

"Of course."

And we kept on chatting and wandering, until after a while, not too far from the front door, we found him. His self-portrait from 1976. 

"He was a conflicted man. Tied up in knots. But what is that white dot? Is that hope? The soul? What is the box about? Why is he dribbling onto the floor?"

"So many questions? Is that why you like him?"

"Possibly. He just touches me soul."

She looked at me. "I could learn a lot from you."

"And I can learn a lot from you." I told her. 

I didn't tell her that I could see myself of 20-year-ago in her, barely knowing how to feel, but finding that art opens up a whole new world if you allow yourself to feel. 

Today's song:

The Best Thing About the Olympics

 I'm not into the Olympics. I like the concept but hate the commentary on Australian television. 

But one thing has brought me back. 

Snoop Dogg. 

It's his joy. His enthusiasm. And his dancing. And his occasional inappropriateness. 

He's even afraid of horses but will still turn up to equestrian events in full gear. He even brought carrots and apples for the horses. I just wish he'd feed the horses off a flat hand (don't they teach that anymore? Stops you getting bit. )

I just wish he'd replace Karl Stefanovic on our commentary team. He's far more entertaining and nowhere near as soporific. 

Today's song.