Oh, Oh

 I'm off to see David Byrne.

This is blog post 3333. It's an omen. 

Tell you all about it tomorrow. 

Sooooooooo excited! 

Today's song: 

Goodbye Loi Loi

 All good things must come to an end. 

It appears that my local Vietnamese restaurant, the Loi Loi, has closed. The tables are gone. The fridge that held the lettuce leaves and soft drinks. The strange decorations that bedecked the walls - all gone. No more menus on the door, just a 'For Lease' sign and the detritus of unclaimed mail that's been shoved in the door.

The Loi Loi has been an institution down Victoria Street for as long as I can remember. Always busy, normally filled with caucasians (why do I want to call them gringos), it was my local Vietnamese/Chinese take away. Over the years we've seen the kids grow up, going from doing their homework on a back table, to being efficient servers while completing a university degree. The boss was a formidable Vietnamese woman, who, if you were pleasant to her, she was pleasant back. I can imagine she'd be right up you if you gave her any jip. 

Their fish ball hot pot was legendary. I still wonder how they castrated all those fish to get their balls. 

Looking back, it was a place you wouldn't rave about, but it was my local. I've taken many friends there for a quick dinner over the years. The Min Tan, which is two doors down, is possibly better from the perspective of food, but it isn't the Loi Loi. 

And sure, there are plenty of other 'traditional' Vietnamese/Chinese restaurants down Victoria Street - not as many as there were, but the staples, the Tran Tran, Tho Tho, Thy Thy, Pacific Barbeque, Co Do and I Heart Pho are still there. There used to be many more. Most of these have formica tables, a box of tissues on the table for serviettes and variable service, the food is plentiful and not overly pricey, unless you order lobster or specialty market fish. Places where there are more Asian faces than caucasians. Places with arguably better food. 

But they're not the Loi Loi. 

It's going to be missed.  

Today's song:

Prep

 In the office tomorrow. 

Need to get into town on time - which means leaving home around 8 a.m. 

My bag is packed. Laptop. Wallet. Security pass. Myki. Water bottle. Head set. Book for my colleague. Note pads. Biro. 

My clothes are set out for tomorrow. 

And as I worked late tonight, making up some time for an early mark on Thursday, I have nothing more to say tonight. 

I'm wiped. 

Night. 

Today's song: 

Good Bad Dreams

I rarely remember my dreams. I'm not a big dreamer. I left my dream group because I wasn't keeping up my end of the deal. 

Then, sometimes, I have a doozy. 

Unfortunately, this morning, I was woken, startled by a dream. 

It was vivid. 

Very vivid. 

Like what the hell is he doing here vivid. 

Like this is a rather dodgy motel vivid. 

Like I need to stay away. I spoke to my friend. We were there for a party. He remained in the background. 

I needed to stay away from him. He wasn't supposed to be there. We mingled. He stayed within sight. 

I returned to my room. A standard 1980's motel room. complete with a hatch for breakfast to be placed. The bed was made with sheets and blankets. Not a quilt. 

He knocks on the door. I tell him I can't see him. He asks to come in. I tell him it's not a good idea. He's wearing cricket whites. No idea why. 

There are people in the hallway. 

I open the door and he comes in. 

I tell him I shouldn't see him. I shouldn't go near him. 

He sits on the bed. Somehow, his shirt is now off. 

I straddle his lap, feeling his skin against mine. We kiss deeply. 

-ooOoo-

I wake at this point. It's ten to seven. The alarm hasn't gone off just yet. I need to pee.

And this strangely realistic sex dream has put me in a foul mood for most of the day. The person involved is somebody I refer to internally as Voldemort - he who should not be named. I have nothing to do with him (other than he emailed me a happy new year, to which he received courteous one line back). 

He is not to come back into my life. 

But why am I shagging him in my dreams?

Go figure.  

Today's song: 

Greener Grass

 As with most team meetings at the end of the week, the discussion ends up on what you're doing for the weekend. My lovely team, all partnered up, some with younger children, others with kids who are nearly adults, had a list of activities which included kid's sports, ditch digging (which seems to be a bit of a running in joke) and a few other partner inclusive things. 

Then it came my turn to divulge. 

"Well," I said, "I feel like a bit of a wanker. An arts wanker. I'm off to a movie tonight, the film of a favourite book. Then, tomorrow, I've got my book group barbeque out Yarraville way. On Sunday, as they're turning off the power for maintenance works from 7 am to 5 pm, I'm going to take my laptop and ride the new train line to see what the stations look like, then I'm going to write in the library for a while, seeing that the power is off."

I felt like a complete arts wanker. 

And sure, working from the library gives me a chance to use their electricity, charge up some power banks, not open the fridge and enjoy the Redmond Barry Reading Room's glacial air conditioning and do some novelling, as well as giving some extra quiet time - something a day with my book group didn't provide the day before (made a bit worse by leaving my meds at home). 

Sunday was the day to catch up on some much needed me time. I can't use the iron, the washing machine, the blender, nor can I use the hoover or binge watch anything as the internet and wifi are down. All I have is my phone, and I can't be asked to hot spot the telly onto it, not that the telly would work either - no electricity. And I'm not watching Netflix on the phone over mobile data. 

So, a day riding the trains, sitting in the State Library doing some writing after a bit of a sleep in sounded great.

But I still felt like a bit of a wanker. It's a day all about me. I don't have a partner to integrate into my life. No kids whose beck and call I'd be at. Other than playing with the cat for a bit, I'm not beholden to anybody. 

I mentioned to one of my colleagues after the meeting that there's something that's unsettling about being a spinster, filling up your time with cultural personal pursuits. There are factions that find it pointless, or selfish. Maybe it's those long-held beliefs that you were raised with that you're somehow supposed to be partnered up and flexing your domestic goddess talents, rather than pumping iron at the gym. 

My colleague's reaction to my statement.

"Have you any idea how utterly perfect your weekend sounds. I've no read a book in months. I can't remember the last film I went to see. That you can go and do something you love for an afternoon with nobody demanding your time - how utterly perfect. Do you want to swap?"

And sure, they live in another state, their kids well into their teens. I spent part of yesterday with Blarney's boys helping them draft up their first resumes, which is a bit harder than you think, but we've got them looking like well-rounded individuals, looking for work. (They were bemused that I was saying, "Let's look what AI says - now let's take it and make it sound less wanky and more like you. They were also aghast when I told them that I normally charge $100 an hour for this service - each.) I got my kid quotient in for the week. 

"It's a case of greener grass. Think of me as you're doing exactly what you want, when you want to."

This is me doing that. 

I'm sitting in the Redmond Barry Reading Room. The air conditioning is a blessing. There's a half drunk bottle of Coke Zero in front of me. My phone and power banks are being charged - saying that, the electricity should be on when I get home. My earplugs are in, lowering the drone of the library to a whisper. The haiku topic has been set. (Today's prompt: Bamboozle - my haiki  "I just can't get it / American Politics / I don't understand)

Okay, I get it. Life is good. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: 3x5

 Today was a big day. We had book group at Blarney's place, but I'm tired now and don't feel like writing - but it will be good to get the questions out of the day. Nice easy, short questions. 

Questions supplied by Sunday Stealing. 

 Three things I love (Remember, these are things, not people):

1. The smell of dog and cat paws in the morning. They smell like Doritos - it's a great, earthy smell. 

2. Soppy romantic comedies found on Netflix. 

3. David Byrne, who I'm seeing in concert on Thursday night and cannot wait for. 

Three things on my desk:

1. Too many pairs of glasses - sunglasses, computer glasses, normal distance ones. 

2. A small bottle of L'Occitane hand sanitiser, which I bought in Paris. It's lemon verbena scented and I love it. 

3. Notification from the electricity distributer that they're turning off the power from 7 a.m to 5 p.m tomorrow. I'm going to the gym then taking off to the library to write tomorrow. 

Three things I can't do:

1. Tolerate racists, sexists, Nazis, religious fanatics, people who are rude to waiting staff, people who walk too slowly in front of you and smelly people on the tram. I just remove myself from the vicinity, rather than make a scene. 

2. Tumble turns in a swimming pool. Love swimming laps, but I never learned to tumble turn. 

3. Keep a tidy house. I'll blame neurodiversity for this one :) Really, I'm just untidy. 

Three things I'm good at:

1. I'm great at being around animals - particularly dogs and cats, even better if they're puppies and kittens. 

2. I will drive pretty much anything - manual (stick), automatic, small, large, tractors... love to drive. (Just not motorbikes - never learned how)

3. I'm not bad at reading and writing. Spent this morning helping one of Blarney's twins do up his resume. That was fun. 

Three things I want to accomplish:

1. I want to get that bloody novel finished and published. 

2. I want to gently lose 20 kilograms. Slowly, slowly catchy the monkey. 

3. I want to find out what it's like to have a boyfriend. 

Okay, the Baileys is kicking in.

I've said too much. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Hamnet

 Movie Number 4 of 2026

The Movie: Hamnet

The Cinema: The Rivoli, Village Cinemas, Camberwell

Runtime: Two hours five minutes

Stars: 5

Was there any way this film wasn't going to get anything less than five stars off of me? Probably not. 

Why?

Well.

• It's about Shakespeare's family. 
• I love Shakespeare. It's one of my favourite things. 
• By extension it's about Hamlet. 
• It's based on a beloved book of mine.
• It's set in the country I call home in my heart.
• It has two of the best actors of our day in it.
• And it's directed by a fabulous woman director.

Absolute chef's kiss. 

I'm also biased.

And I don't care.

Based on Maggie O'Farrell's book of the same name, Hamnet follows the story of Agnes (Jessie Buckley) a woman on the outer of the village. Agnes, a healer, and William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) meet and marry, having three children. Susannah, and twins Judith and Hamlet. Shakespeare's work as an actor and playwright takes him to London for extended periods of time, leaving Agnes at home with family. When the plague rampages through the village, Hamnet dies, leaving a grieving family. 

None of this is unknown. The general story of Shakespeare and his family is found in the history books. 

What Maggie O'Farrell has done has taken the history and made it about women, the role of family, and a study of grief. It's incredible. Working with the director, Chloe Zhao on the script, the movie follows the book closely and loses none of its charm.

Chloe Zhao's direction is flawless. Lucasz Zal's cinematography is as beautiful as it is stirring. 

This movie belongs to Jessie Buckley. She gives flawless performance as Agnes, the outsider, the healer, the mother, the wife and the seeker. You can relate to every emotion that crosses her face. You watch her at the theatre, where she sees how Shakespeare has processed his grief by writing and performing his most famous work. 

Buckley won a Golden Globe for this performance. I reckon she'll be up for an Oscar as well. 

It's stunning. 

It's going to be in my top ten movies of the year. If anybody wants to see it, I'll happily go again. 

It's absolutely divine. 

And yes, I'm biased. Don't care. 

Today's song: 

Dev Card: Lyrics

 I don't feel like thinking up something to write about tonight. I've been messing with training schedules and other fun things at work, and my brain's a bit friend. 

So, I've pulled a Dev Card. 

It reads: 'Jot down every single song lyric you can think of. Random order. Fragments.'

Yeah, nah! Do you know me? I always have a song in my head. I could be writing for hours. 

Instead, I'll give you the first ten that come to mind. With links to the actual song. And appropriate malapropisms. (You know what they are...) And I'll try not to give you the David Byrne back catalogue. 

So, let's go. 

1. Breezeblocks - Alt J

'She may contain the urge to runaway

But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks

Germaline, disinfect the scene

My love, my love, love, love

Please don't go

I love you so

My lovely...

Please don't go, I love you so...'

(Yes, the song is about domestic violence. I still love it)

2. Leilani - The Hoodoo Gurus

'Somewhere on a South Pacific Island,

Sat a buy staring at the sun,

His former girlfriend died a death quite violent

A tribal sacrifice was to be earned,

Oh oh oh oh oh, Leilani don't go to the volcano....'

I could go on. I won't. 

3. Buck Naked - David Byrne

'Runnin' naked down the state highway

Runnin' naked in the middle of the day

Runnin' naked like a tomcat's behind

Runnin' naked, but the cat don't seem to mind

Give me your heart, I'll give you mine first

Give me your time and I'll give you my trust

And we're buck naked now like when we were born

When will we find out? And why does it take so long?

And we're buck naked now

And we're buck naked now

And we're buck naked now

In the eyes of the Lord'.

I adore this song. And I reckon it was at this performance, or one like it, in 1992, that I first heard this song.

4. Man with a Gun - Jerry Harrison

'Pretty girl young man old man

Man with a gun

Two people in love (Two people in love)

The rules do not apply...'

Well, okay, this is Jerry Harrison, who used to be in Talking Heads....

5. Ordinary World - Duran Duran

'What has happened to it all?

Crazy, some'd say

Where is the life that I recognise? 

But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world

Somehow, I have to find

And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world

I will learn to survive...'

Still the best Duran Duran song ever. 

6. Song 2 - Blur

'I got my head shaved,

By a jumbo jet, 

It wasn't easy. 

But nothing is...

WOOOOOHOIOOOOOOO!'

We've transitioned into the 90's. Love Blur. 

7. Coconut - Harry Nilsson

'She put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor

Woke him up and said, "Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take

I say, doctor, to relieve this bellyache?

I say, doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take

I say, doctor, to relieve this bellyache?"'

So old. So fun. 

8. You Can't Roller skate in a Buffalo Herd - ABC School songs from the 70's. 

'You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd, 

You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd, 

You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd, 

But you can be happy if you put your mind to it....

All you've got to do is put your mind to it,'

Knuckle down, buckle down, do it do it do it....'

We learned this at school. They used to make us sing from a song book produced by the ABC. This was one of the songs. 

9. Shape of my Heart - Sting

'He deals the cards as a meditation

And those he plays never suspect

He doesn't play for the money he wins

He don't play for respect

He deals the cards to find the answer

The sacred geometry of chance

The hidden law of a probable outcome

The numbers lead a dance

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier

I know that the clubs are weapons of war

I know that diamonds mean money for this art

But that's not the shape of my heart...'

Another favourite song. Gotta love sting. 

10. Nimrod's Son - The Pixies

'You are the son of an incestuous union!'

It's The Pixies. Need I say more. 

I could keep going, but I'd be here all night. I love music. But I need to go for a walk. 

And I would have given the lyrics to the song of the day, but nobody knows what they are - but James Reyne did a fabulous cover of this on Triple J's Like a Version. Look it up. 

Today's song: 

Grim Days for Writers

I have a voice. 

I deserve to be heard. 

I attempt to be as ethical as I can be in my writing. Yes, you might offend somebody, at some time, but as a rule, I try to write and listen and absorb and participate in debates. If I don’t know enough about something I say. And I’m not perfect. 

Most writers like to operate in such a way. 

It’s hard being a writer this week. 

Firstly, a well-loved children’s writer is up on charges in Perth. He has written a couple of my favourite young adult novels. Extra-ordinary works. He is also the father of three young daughters. And he’s up on these charges. Innocent until proven guilty, he remains in custody until he either posts bail or his arraignment date in February. At present, the charges are alleged, but what the hell is going on? 

I’ve also been watching the debacle over the Adelaide Writer’s Festival with a lot of interest, as both a writer and a proud South Australian. 

I don’t feel like a proud South Australian at the moment. 

What a fucking shit show!

As a consumer of writer’s events, there is something magical about these events. The sharing of ideas and viewpoints. The discussions. The processes. The insights. Writer’s Festivals are an important to society for this. It’s a place where you can safely, respectfully state your views and ideas, rather than stand on a soap box and proselytise. Writer’s festivals encourage healthy, respectful debate and a safe space to share these ideas. 

So, when the Adelaide Writer’s Festival, first of all uninvites Dr Randa Abdel-Fattah, a Palestinian/Australian academic and writer from speaking at the Festival, there was always going to be an uproar. 

The author who is now sitting in a Perth lock up was also scheduled to speak. 

One by one, the writers on the program cancelled in support of Abdel-Fattah. And rightly so. 

A few days on , the Adelaide Writer's Festival board stepped down. The director of Adelaide Writers Week, Louise Adler, also resigned. It appears the uninviting of Abdel-Fattah was done on the behest of the state government. It appears the Jewish Council of Australia had no problem with Abdel-Fattah being on the program - but the Jewish Council of South Australia did, allegedly because of the Bondi shootings a month ago. 

Also, a lot of the funds for the Festival, which comes through the State Government, come from the State Jewish factions, who also hold Zionist beliefs. 

And here's what upsets me. I'm evolved enough to recognise that religion and politics don't necessarily go hand in hand. Not all Christians are fundamentalist (thank fuck for that), nor are most Muslims jihadis, not most Jews will hold strong Zionist beliefs. 

But when one group, the one with the money, says that somebody from another group can't speak at this forum, well, we're going down a slippery slope. We're a country that prides ourselves on free speech. This is extinguishing a voice. 

And some of you will say, well, it's a writer's festival. It's a heap of little old ladies sitting around sipping prosecco, clutching their pearls and buying the odd book. 

Writer's Festivals are so much more than this. They provide an outlet for discussion and ideas, fraternity and acceptance. They bring diversity, humour, intelligence, courage .... and money into the state.

This year's festival has been cancelled. I've a lot of very disappointed friends who were looking forward to seeing some great writer's talk - Hannah Kent, Jacinda Ardern, Trent Dalton, Zadie Smith, Percival Everett, Helen Garner, Michele de Kretzer, Peter Fitzsimons, Clare Wright... the list is endless. Writers who backed away from the event because of the cancelling of Abdel-Fattah. Writer's, who would have lost money on this, and book sales - part of their livelihoods. Writers who don't get to have a voice.

You don’t go out of your way to silence writers, which is what has been done here. 

I feel this personally. 

This is not free speech. 

Shame on you, South Australian government. 

Today's song: 

The Haiku Club

I have a new job in the morning. It's the last thing I do before firing up the work computer or heading out the door to work. 

This is a very important job. 

I need to get the haiku prompt out. 

Haiku prompt? Okay, technically we write senryu, short poems about life - little observations. Haiku traditionally talks to nature. 

See, in my writing group, there were a couple of people who said that they didn't have the time to be creative. I challenged them on this. Everybody has enough time to find seventeen syllables on a given topic. Five syllables. Seven syllables. Five syllables. Simple. 

To assist me, I've used AI to generate the list of prompts. Using ChatGPT or Gemini, I type in my instructions: 

Generate me 10 one-word senryu topics.

Saves me having to think about it, and it comes up with some good suggestions. 

So far, we've had words like belonging, regret, distraction, vanity, apology, gossip, commute and awkward. 

What you do with the poem is up to you.

Here's my offering for vanity:

Monkey bum lips

Pout fake indignation

Shouts of wannabe.

And the one for distraction:

My album title:

Neurospicy Hellscape or

Eternal Sidequest?

Everybody seems to be getting into it. It also lets you do something creative - even if it is for a few minutes, every day. 

Creativity is a muscle that needs to be flexed and developed. Also, sharing microfiction is good for getting rid of the nerves when you put other words out there. 

And this is a very safe space. 

I love my writing group. I really do. 

Best have a think about tomorrow's word.

Today's song: 

The Return of Taste

The cold has gone, but the congestion remains. 

I hate that I get really noisy, really messy colds.

What I hate even more is the loss of the senses of taste and smell. 

It's been a week now. A week where everything tastes like cardboard and snot. A week where no matter what you're eating, the only joy you get is from the texture of the food, not the aromas. Any joy from eating comes from staving off the hunger - not from the joy of eating. You stop to smell a rose in the street. Nothing. I ordered a bottle of my favourite body wash - Aveda's Shampure. I love its scent. I can't smell anything. All my favourite scents. The cat’s paws. Scented candles. Roses on the fence down the road. My morning coffee.

Nothing. Zip. Nada.

I think I’m coming good. Took its bloody time.

It might take a few more days to come back to completely normal, but finally. I’m going to feel hole again.

You don’t know how much you miss your sense of taste and smell until it goes away completely.

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing Remembers the Good Old Days

 On the good side of things:

• The temperature has dropped 20 degrees centigrade - it was 42 degrees centigrade (108 F) yesterday. It's back down a more palatable 20 degrees centigrade (70 F) today. 
• I've hoovered the floors. 
• My sense of smell is finally returning after a week being filled with a nasty cold. 
• I went to Bunnings today (American equivalent is Home Depot, British equivalent B&Q / Homebase). I bought the one thing I needed and then got a charity sausage on the way out. They always have a barbeque at Bunnings for charities and associations. $3.50 or a sausage in white bread. In a controversial move, they put the grilled onions under the sausage. 

VERY CONTROVERSIAL - it's like saying when you have scones, jam and cream that you put the cream on first. 

Let's watch that one blow up!

Questions come from Sunday Stealing. As always. 

1. Tell us about a time when your family got a newfangled invention (your first air conditioner, color TV, VCR, microwave, computer, etc.).

As a child of the seventies / teenager of the eighties technology moved quickly. We got a microwave in what would have been the late seventies. I remember my father being over the moon because he could use the microwave to warm up the milk for his cornflakes in 30 seconds and they wouldn't go soggy - nor did he have to dirty a saucepan. 

2. Is there a particular song that sparks a childhood memory?

We used to go on holiday up the Murray River on a houseboat as I was a kid. This was a good break and something very different. To get to the boat it was a couple of hours drive. This was in the days when cars only had a radio - maybe a tape deck if you were lucky. Australia, being so large, also meant that you'd go out of range of the city stations very quickly and you'd have to search the radio for the nearest local station. 

I've got memories of driving out to Renmark, and after what seemed like forever moving the dial, we finally found a station that played something more than classical. I remember Donovan's Mellow Yellow coming over the airwaves. 

3. What is something an older family member taught you to do?

My grandmother taught me to knit and crochet when I was about five-years-old. They are skills I still use today. 

4. Back in the day, what name brands would we have found in your family's kitchen?

Ah, this is going to be an Australian - indeed, South Australian version of this. 

So, some things you'd find in our kitchen which you may or may not still be able to get in Adelaide:

• Holbrook's Worcestershire Sauce (still the best)
• Bickford's Lime Juice Cordial
• Arnott's YoYo biscuits (still only available in South Australia)
• Balfour's or Villi's pasties
• Dairy Vale cheese and yoghurt
• Woodroofe's lemonade - again, soooo much better than Sprite - nowhere near as sweet

Also, the Arnott's YoYo biscuits had a song, which I say most South Australian's over the age of 45 can still sing. 

5. As a child, did you collect anything (rocks, shells, stickers, etc.)?

Books.

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Sentimental Value

 Movie Number 3 of 2026

The Movie: Sentimental Value

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas, Kino Cinema

Runtime: Two Hours 12 Minutes

Language: Norwegian / English

Stars: 4

Sentimental Value is the current darling of the arthouse movie scene. If you like arthouse movies, there's a chance you'll love it. If you prefer blockbusters, then don't bother - this will do your head in. 

Looking back, I liked this a lot more than I thought. There's a hell of a lot to mull over, react to and feel with this film, which thankfully doesn't ram it all in your face. It's gloriously shot, wonderfully acted and thematically relatable, and it's mostly in Norwegian. 

Then again, it's a little slow and there are times you want to nut some of the characters. Typical arthouse film. Yep. 

This one has a lot of saving graces.

The crux of the film has two sisters, Nora (Renata Reinsive) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdottir Lilleaas) who reunite with their estranged father, Gustav (Stellan Skarsgard) after the death of their mother. According to rotten.tomatoes.com, the gist of the plot goes like this. 

"Gustav, a once-renowned director who offers stage actress Nora a role in what he hopes will be his comeback film. When Nora turns it down, she soon discovers he has given her part to an eager young Hollywood star. Suddenly, the two sisters must navigate their complicated relationship with their father -- and deal with an American star dropped right into the middle of their complex family dynamics."

That pesky actress, Rachel is played by Elle Fanning, who picks up on the whole family dramas while trying to advance her already stellar career. 

Another major character is the family house, adored by all, which has been on the family for generations. A beautiful house, we see it as it morphs over the ages, from when the ancestors lived there, to the girls troubled marriage, to the present, when Gustav wants to use the house as a set. The house is glorious in its Scandinavian simplicity and is used with impressive effect as the movie wends its way through the narrative. 

Director Joachim Trier pulls off a great film, wrangling some of Scandinavia's best actors, while peppering the film with a heap of pathos and humour. He has a stable of writers and cinematographers who help keep the cohesion. I also loved the juxtaposition of Elle Fanning's character, who shows some gumption as the American actress thrown in the middle of this messy family situation. 

Is this film over-rated by the critics. A little. 

Is it still an enjoyable film? 

Very much so. 

Today's song: 

Orange Shadows

The temperature may have slackened off, the winds abate, but it doesn't take away from the orange shadows that graze the kitchen tiles. 

Bushfires across the state blow smoke across the city, causing the orange glow. 

If I could smell or taste, I'd be sensing ash and tar. After Black Friday and Ash Wednesday, you could feel the smoke in the sky for weeks. 

It's the orange shadows which put me on edge. It's a portent to bad things, hard things, places where life is being disrupted. And being in the city, there is precious little you can do about it.

As awful as bushfires may be, it's the feeling of helplessness which always sits with me. 

Today's song:

Sid Snot

"Allo, Sid Snot 'ere."

How do you explain Kenny Everett to anybody younger than 45? And who aren't English / Australian. Or into retro comedy?

Well, I should be renamed Sid Snot.

Not because I'm an aging, queer, leather-bound punk, but I am filled with snot. 

I'm sick of snot. 

I want to taste something again. 

I want to stop coughing up green gunk.

Although, I am feeling nearly back to normal - I'm operating at about 90%, which is something. I've not had to take any panadol for 48 hours. 

Still, it's hot and I'm bunged up with mucus, and it's not funny, and I've got Kenny Everett living rent free in my brain. 

Also, 30 years on, now you're an adult, you realise just how subversive Everett really was. 

I mean this! Would you get away with a character called Cupid Stunt in these politically correct times?

I will say, after a day of spreadsheets and PowerPoint packs, he's given me a bit of a giggle. 

I'm off to the supermarket, for firstly a walk, and to buy some more tissues. 

Today's song: 

For the Love of Dave

 

I’ve seen David Byrne live twice in my life and consider myself one of the luckiest women in the world because of this. 

That’s a big statement. 

I'm a life-long Talking Heads fan, coming into their music in the early eighties, their electro-funk/pop/rock blend has always been up my alley. My step-sister tells of her enduring memories of me as a teenager is of driving down Blockers Road in her mother’s Mazda 323 with Stop Making Sense playing loud from the cassette player. I don’t know how many times I’ve bought Stop Making Sense, the album of the concert which Jonathan Demme turned into a film. I finally saw the film in its entirety last year. DAVID BYRNE HAS BEEN DOING WHAT HE DOES FOR FIFTY YEARS! He’s incredible. Mind you, so are Chris Frantz, Jerry Harrison and Tina Weymouth. And yes, I didn’t have to look that up. I've loved them for so long, they're family. 

So, in about 1992, I went to see him in concert at the Brixton Academy in London. To date, it’s still the best concert I’ve ever been to. The set list was epic, starting with an acoustic set, then he was joined by the Rei Momo band and they were just phenomenal. The cover of Sympathy for the Devil will never leave me. It went on for about 20 minutes. 

Note, if you get a chance, look up David Byrne covering David Bowie’s Heroes. It’s amazing. 

In 2019, I saw him again, this time in the American Utopia tour in Melbourne. As soon as the tickets were on sale, I was in the queue to get them. 

It turned out, it was the second -est concert I've ever been to - even if it was seated. I don't care - it was amazing. As always. It was everything. Talking Heads songs. His solo stuff. The odd cover. 

And now. In a fortnight, we're off to see him again - this time at the Myer Music Bowl. I've got a general admission ticket, all I could afford - and my friend and I will be right up the back. 

But it doesn't matter. 

We'll be in the presence of greatness. The man is 75 and he's still prancing about like a thirty-something. He's got a soul and a moral compass. He's as neurodiverse as all fuck, but this is part of the reason I love him.

It's all of the love of Dave. 

Today's song:

Stop. Start. Continue

I've been meaning to do a resolutions post for the last two days, but things have got in the way. Driving home from Adelaide, seeing movies, having a cold - thankfully, not a nasty one, but one that fills you with snot and saps away at your energy.... And I had to make a trip to Bunnings at lunchtime - when one's toilet is blocked, one needs a plunger But this has given me some time to think about what I want to get done this year. Some of my more successful resolutions have been when I've set little tasks for myself or set monthly goals. The put-on hand cream one is a great habit that keeps my hands looking alright. Making the goals SMART - Specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and timely goals make sense. 

I'm also going to use a traffic light system as well - a Stop, Start, Continue model, which makes sense to me. 

Can you tell I've been working too long in a corporate environment. 

Anyway, here we go. This I'm what I'd like to get done in 2026. 

Continue: 

• Being gainfully and happily employed throughout the year. 
• Continue reading a book a week - this equates to about 50 pages a day. 
• Continue seeing a movie at least once a fortnight. I enjoy this. 
• Continue going to the gym at least three times a week. I've done this for years.
• Continue applying hand cream once a day. 
• Continue to use sunscreen. This one is important. 
• Continue using my passport at least once a year for travel. Can sort of mark this off as I'm off to Auckland in April. 
• Continue with the daily blogging. I know the blog is crap, but it keeps my fingers turning over. This is a part of my writing process. As a writer, consistency is king. 

Start: 

• Being in bed by midnight. I want to try getting more sleep and I've got into some bad habits, like going to bed around one. I don't have to be asleep by midnight, but I need to be physically in bed. The rest will follow. 
• Making sure I get a half hour walk in each day. I feel better for it.
• Taking a daily dose of Metamucil. This has a lot of health benefits. I'm getting older. 
• Stretching more. This is the year of flexibility. 
• Saying yes more often. As an introvert it's hard, but like any muscle, it can be trained. 
• Writing ten minutes on the novel each day. From little things big thing grow - and I now have a supporting writer's group behind me. That shouldn't make much difference, but it does help.

Stop: 

• Buying random shit off the internet. Nuff said. 
• Buying books - until I've read at least a third of my TBR pile. This might be a bit hard and will probably bankrupt the publishing industry, but it must be done. 
• Worrying so much.
• Hanging onto things that no longer serve me.

 That will do for the moment. 

Okay, as it's gone eleven, time for a shower and get myself in bed by midnight. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: The Choral

 Movie Number 2 of 2026

The Movie: The Choral

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: One hour 53 minutes

Stars: 4

My first English film for the year and it was lovely. Of course, it was always going to be lovely, a little tale about a choir trying to keep going during World War One - and this is a charming, albeit a little idiosyncratically English film about community, challenges and the role art plays in our lives. 

When I say gentle, this film, written by Alan Bennett and directed by Nicholas Hynter does what these men have been doing for decades. Producing quintessentially British stories filled with British sensibilities. I'm always up for that.  

The story is a fairly simple one. It's 1916.  In the fictional town of Ramsden, Yorkshire, many of the town's men have gone off to the Western Front and the town's Choral Society is in a bit of a mess. Their first tenor is missing in action, and others are about to head off to battle. However, in that best of English traditions, they're keeping up and carrying on, even if they need to find a new Choral director. 

It's Henry Guthrie (Ralph Fiennes) who steps up to the plate to take this ragtag group of commoners up to the stage. Guthrie has been working in Germany, which makes him an outlier, not that his closeted homosexuality hasn't done that already. On returning to England, Guthrie is having a hard time assimilating after spending so long living in the land of the enemy. But he needs a job and likes a challenge, and rather than perform St Matthews Passion because, after all, Bach was German. They are also lacking singers and members of the orchestra. In the end, they go with performing a little-known work by Elgar. 

As with any Alan Bennett screenplay, the town is filled with quirky characters. The Mill owner Duxbury, being the coin, always gets a plum role. There's Mary (Amara Okereke), the Salvation Army member with the voice of an angel. Returned soldier Ellis (Taylor Uttley), missing an arm and some hope, is recruited back into the choir, somewhat reluctantly after his fiance Bella (Emily Fairn) has dumped him for another member of the choir still to be sent off. Pianist Horner (Robert Emms) is called up, only to search his soul and become a conscientious objector.

There's a lot to like here. Although it's not ground-breaking, you have to feel for all of the members of the town. The movie looks at how the war affects all aspects of life and how people react to it/ 

Simon Russell Beale's cameo as a snotty Elgar is a joy to behold. 

For me, it was the music and the musical process that stood up so well. Although most of the singing is shown in rehearsal, the final performance was most wonderful. 

Yes, this isn't the best work of the actors, writers and directors, but it is a solidly enjoyable British film, which I'd happily take my mother along to. What I found uplifting was seeing the town work together to form something beautiful in a world filled with violence and sorrow. 

It's also a film for those who like classical music and the process it goes through to create it. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Song Sung Blue

 Movie Number One of 2026

The Movie: Song Sung Blue

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: Two hours twelve minutes

Stars: 4

Part of me did not want to see this. It's the part of me that has been going to Victoria Gardens shopping centre, as I do most days, only to hear Sweet Caroline sung loudly from the cinema screens above the food court. Sweet Caroline at karaoke or weddings, you know, once in a while is fine. Every day, and loud, for months on end, not so much. 

Anyway, after not seeing a film for a week, I decided to give this a go, even if it was to get the angst of hearing Sweet Caroline out of my system. 

And I'm really glad I did, even with Hugh Jackman's dodgy haircuts. And him running around in baggy dad underpants in a couple of scenes.  

Actually, it was really entertaining, quite emotional and musically wonderful. And yes, for me, a bit nostalgic as being a child of the seventies, Neil Diamond was everywhere and I remember this. I think my parents had some of his records on vinyl. 

Song Sung Blue is based on the true story of Mike and Claire Sardina, a couple from Milwaukee, Wisconsin who created a Neil Diamond tribute show. Mike (Hugh Jackman) is a Vietnam vet, a long-term recovering alcoholic who's hobby job is singing and playing in local bands. He's a man of principle. He's also a battler, and you have to love him for that. His stage persona is Lightning, as he does a good line in Elvis songs as well. 

Hugh Jackman was born to play this role. As the quintessential triple threat, there's nobody else who could play Mike Sardina with the same aplomb. 

Then Mike meets Claire (Kate Hudson) at one of these shows. They hit it off, get married and start the Neil Diamond tribute band, Lightning and Thunder and their star starts to rise. 

Yet it wouldn't be a biopic without adversity, or which there is a lot. The couple have no luck whatsoever. Just as you think they're getting somewhere, something huge happens, and on it goes. But the couple and their kids Rachel (Ella Anderson), Dana (Hudson Hensley) and Angelina (King Princess) battle forward as battlers do. Despite having cringy parents - Claire is described by her daughter as a lot, Mike by his daughter in a similar manner - they are a loving family unit. 

The performances in Song Sung Blue are wonderful. Kate Hudson is fantastic as the fragile Claire. The supporting cast are also fantastic. Ella Anderson is going to be one to watch. I loved seeing Michael Imperioli, who you're used to seeing in mob films is wonderful as Mark, Mike's supportive friend (and a Buddy Holly impersonator - he was great on the screen.) Other small roles from Jim Belushi and Fisher Stevens were good too. 

I went into this film with few expectations and walked out very happy. If you're a Neil Diamond fan, you'll love this. And if not, this is a very solid based on real life story that's been brought to the screen in a great way. 

This was a good way to start 2026. Better than invading Venezuela, anyway. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing Feels Frustrated

 It's another year, and another chance to do the Sunday Stealing Questions, which I've been doing for over a decade. 

I have to say a word of thanks for the people who keep this running. I feel like I've made a few friends overseas from doing these questions each week. 

Anyway, here's this week's questions. 

1. What would you rather be doing right now?

Really, I'd like to be tied to the couch binging the last season of Stranger Things, but I can't sit still that long. Eddie Munson rules, even if he is dead. 

2. What is always on your grocery list?

Every week there is a 99% chance you'll find these things on there: 

• Almond milk
• Chicken breast/tenderloins/thighs, depending on what I feel like cooking. 
• Salad items. 
• Sodaly - sugar-free soft drink (soda) in cans. They have a bit of bite to them. Yuzu, guava, blood orange and passionfruit are my favourites - the watermelon is awful. 
• Cat food/cat treats
• Gluten free bread/Turkish bread
• Tissues

3. Have you ever used a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?

No. Thank goodness. I have fired one off, but that was during fire drill training for one of the companies I was working for where I was a fire warden. (I only offered to do that so I could wear the hat and sing the 'Bob the Builder' song. 

4. How many times did you text yesterday?

Once. I was driving home from Adelaide and texted EJ to see if he wanted a chat while I was driving over the Wimmera. It's dead boring driving between Bordertown and Horsham so it's nice to have a chat with somebody while driving. 

I did message other people on other apps - (Messenger, Instagram DM, Signal, WhatsApp) but for actually text messages through the telephone - just the one./ 

5. Would you prefer a slow-paced, relaxing vacation or one filled with new sights and experiences?

It depends on the holiday I need. As much as I adore exploring new places, foods and other things, sometimes you have to plonk yourself next to a pool in Bali or Thailand, get copious massages and drink plenty of cocktails. I will always explore new things, no matter what. 

Today's song: 

From the Road

 I'm exhausted, but home safely. 

Due to this, I'm going to keep it quick. 

Lucifer is asleep on the bed, legs akimbo. He's happy to be home too. 

The car has been emptied, the cat crate dismantled and most of the stuff put away. 

The Ritalin helped make this one of the easier drives I've done over the years. My low dose of this stimulant used for treating ADHD helped to keep things focused. It's incredible. 

There are a number of pasties in the freezer. I got a couple for EJ. 

Middle-aged women and LBL (Light bladder leakage) is a real thing. What I call pee pads - or light pads for minor incontinence help to keep things in check. Speaking to a number of other middle-aged women over the last few days, it appears I'm not the only one. Besides, when you're only stopping every two hours and trying to keep hydrated, the bladder gets full. Dehydration is worse than the indignity of wet knickers. Or having to squat by the side of the road, and the Western Highway was pretty busy. 

Sorry, too much information. 

But I'm home. 

I'm knackered - what could have been a nine-hour drive took ten, thanks to roadworks on the Westgate. 

Tomorrow the year starts in earnest. 

Today's song: 

Be Careful What You Wish For

My parents want to get Netflix. 

They have a smart television. 

Tonight, as there was nothing on television, and as they have a smart television, I logged into my Netflix account, where we found something to watch (The Thursday Murder Club is up their alley.)

Seeing the amount of choice on Netflix, they decided they want their own account. 

And that's fair. But they can have the $10 a month account with limited adds. I've told them this. There is no point them having a more expensive account. They can cancel whenever. And there are far fewer adds on than terrestrial telly. 

What happened once the decision to get Netflix was the cause of some major anxiety. 

How do you explain networks to your parents? Making matters works, for some reason, the network link failed on the television as we were trying to set up the account. My stepdad as not amused at this. 

And how do you rationalise multi-factor authentication to your folks? Making it harder, the folks television network dropped out, so I had both folks yelling at me. 

"Give me your phone mum, I'll sort this out on your computer."

We've trained Mum well. She has her passwords written down in a safe space. 

We finally got the account up and running. 

I then looked at the telly and reconnected the Network. No idea what happened there. 

As Mum's phone is pretty basic, but she has a great iPad, we got the Netflix app set up on there ready for lessons tomorrow morning, before I start the long drive home. 

I'm aware that this could be a bumpy ride for them. Telly on demand. Networks. Accounts. Passwords. The choice. The amount of dross available. 

It's all a bit overwhelming. 

And I will give some fundamental lessons tomorrow morning and will leave my step-sister and a close friend to help give them more assistance. 

But I think they'll like it in the end. 

Welcome to the 21st Century, parents. 

Today's song: