I went into this film blind and was blown away. I love when that happens. I knew there was a good chance that I'd like it. I mean, I like Leo Woodall and Dustin Hoffman. It's a New York story - and it's a bit offbeat. What I didn't see coming was the movie's soundscape, the soundtrack and the brilliant pace of this heist / thriller / drama. It's got a great pace and a huge heart.
Yet, Tuner has so much more. I love how this film was made, the story, the condition which makes Niki (Leo Woodall) both a character of sympathy, but this condition provides his special skill.
And the film's soundscape is extraordinary.
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At the start of the movie, we meet Niki working with Harry (Dustin*9 Hoffman) in Harry's piano tuning business. Harry is a lovely octagenarian wide boy services the pianos of New York - well, Niki does the work, Harry naps.
We soon find out two things about Niki. Firstly, he has a condition, hyperacusis, which makes him hypersensitive to sound - almost any sound. Quiet sounds are fine, but anything louder than a couple of people talking and Niki's in pain. He wears earplugs most of the time - noise cancelling headphones for the rest.
When Harry falls ill, Niki makes it his mission to pay his hospital bills. Having found his super-sensitive hearing allows him to crack safes, he falls in with a dodgy security firm, who use his talents an pay him well.
In the background, he meets Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu), a music student at the conservatorium, who he meets on a tuning job. Ruthie is initially prickly, but things happen.
And of course, the safe cracking jobs are fine until they're not.
A wonderful set up for a heist movie.
A couple of things stood out for me. Firstly, the movie's soundscape. We get a good insight into what Niki is hearing - and it's amazing. I'd be putting this one up for a Best Sound Oscar. The sound track is also great, being a mix of original compositions, classical and jazz standards and a bit of Nina Simone for good measure.
Daniel Roher's script is punchy but laced with pathos. He also directed the film - and has done a great job with it, keeping the pace going while not overegging the sentimentality.
As somebody who sometimes struggles with noise sensitivity, I got this film - and left me feeling being seen.
It's seriously a great concept and a thoroughly enjoyable movie. It's on at most of the art house cinemas, but it's coming to the end of its run. Check it out when it gets onto the streaming services and thank me later.
1) If you could attend a 4th of July fireworks display anywhere in the United States, where would you choose?
Sorry, I'll be blunt. I'm not a fan of fireworks - the noise and the light trigger me. Also, as an outsider, with some fairly defined views about the current administration, I highly doubt I'd get through immigration and customs without being locked up or turned around at the border (if they gave me a visa at all.)
I suppose, if I had ear protection and a reasonable vantage point away from the action, I'd like to watch the fireworks next to the Charles River in Boston. I love Boston.
2) What book are you currently reading?
On paper, I literally just finished Matt Haig's The Midnight Train. It was alright - I preferred The Midnight Library a lot more - this came across as a bit preachy.
I will start Amor Towles' The Lincoln Highway when I get back from the gym. It's our book group book for this month.
3) What have you been listening to?
If I have music on it's normally 80s and 90s alternative music, lots of Talking Heads, The Pixies, Bowie and The Rolling Stones.
I listen to a lot of audiobooks. I finished Kate Atkinson's Life After Life last night. It was excellent. It was so good that I picked up the audiobook of A God in Ruins, the follow-on book. She's a great author.
4) What shows or movies have you been watching?
Today, I went and saw Tuner, a movie about a piano tuner who finds his way into some very dodgy operations. It was fantastic. One of the best things I've seen this year.
As for televisin - It's the normal rotation of Netflix and family history docos.
"Tell your friends, get on the socials. Let them know there's a trans woman doing Hamlet. It's gotta be pissing somebody off somewhere." These were Suzy Izzard's parting words.
Them's fighting words. Good on her.
Suzy, as she likes to be known, along with using she/her pronouns, is phenomenal this a one woman working of the Bard's seminal play.
Yes, a solo show where the performer takes on Hamlet. Who knew?
This was mesmerising.
Regular visitors to this blog know that I'm a Shakespeare boffin. I've probably seen Hamlet a dozen times over the years. I love a good lugubrious Dane taking arms against the sea of a family shit show (see what I did there?)
Of course, an unabridged Hamlet runs to around four hours - and you can always hunt out Branagh's 1996 masterpiece for that (Anybody up for seeing that next time it's on at the Astor?)
This is a one-woman abridged version of Hamlet.
It is stunning.
There are no sets. There are no props (Izzard's amazing manicure the only bit of extra) There's a spotlight with some shadow tracking from the front of the stage. For the next two-and a-bit hours, she plays all the characters.
Yep. One woman and one of the Bard's most complex plays.
And she is magnificent. Flicking across accents and scenes, Izzard is a professional of the highest order. The funny bits stay funny. The poignant bits tug at your heart strings. She navigates this monster of a play with skill and seeming ease.
I loved that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were portrayed as sock puppets (that was genius). Her mad Ophelia was heart rending. She got the ghost just right. She's amazing.
The thing that makes Shakespeare is a lot of its back and forth, which is what she did, flicking between characters, accents, gesticulation and mannerisms with a jump. Having watched her on stage for decades, I was aware of her stalking around the stage. For this, with the absence of props, sets and costumes.
It's exactly in this stripped back performance where the brilliance lies. You listen for the words, wait for the soliloquys and anticipate what will happen next.
If you're not familiar with Hamlet, this may not be the performance for you. It definitely helps if you know the play and its intricacies.
We had a discussion at interval. Only one of us had never seen Hamlet before, but had some knowledge of the main speeches.
"But what's going to happen next?"
"Oh, you know, they have to have Ophelia go mad, top herself, everybody gets in a tizzy, Hamlet comes back to Denmark, they bury Ophelia, there's a big fight and they all end up dead."
'Oh. In 45 minutes?"
"Yep. And she's broken for interval at the normal place. That bit with Polonius - they extract that for laughs. The "Goodnight, Mother," is in the text."
Which is harder to do when there is only one of you on stage.
Which, when you think about it. Izzard has absorbed a four-hour play, distilled it and played it in a theatre with the lights turned down, but not off, so she can see our faces as well as we can see hers.
This is a treat. I feel honoured to have seen it.
And to those unhappy people out there that there's a trans woman playing Hamlet - seriously, I mourn for your world view. We need more genius, compassion and excellence like this.
(And I'd love the name and number of her nail technician)
Go if you can. Is it the best Hamlet I've seen? No. But it is a brilliant performance all around.
We've had this conversation before. I don't know how the topic came up, but like many of our conversations, we ramble, go in and out of all sorts of subjects. Maybe I was talking about friends and friendship, or what was planned for the weekend. Maybe they were talking of their regular rituals. We have different lives, different circumstances. I know that we don't understand each other's lives. Different states, different set ups, different views.
"You could make that when you entertain." they said.
"I don't entertain."
"But don't you have people over?"
"No."
"But if people come over.."
"We meet at the front gate and we go to one of the umpteen Vietnamese restaurants around the corner."
"But you're a good cook..."
"Who doesn't have the set up to have people over. I can't remember the last time I had a friend over." (Actually, that's a lie, but it was about two years ago.)
"You have a table and chairs."
"My laptop lives on my table. The chairs are in the spare room."
"But.."
"I have a disparate friendship group. If you're out of a 30-minute radius, they're not going to come over. Also, being single, you're often a spare leg."
"But..."
"I don't entertain. I don't really know how to. And I'd have to clean up. That's hard. "
"How strange."
"Welcome to my world."
But it's not so strange. I've never entertained, choosing to meet at a nearby location - if not, it's takeaway on your lap, after I've dug the couch out from under the crap. I look at the wine glasses and extra coffee mugs and the like, knowing that they've been carted around from share house to share house. Glassware, napery, crockery, that were bought with the thought they'd be used for 'entertaining', rather than for collecting dust.
I haven't done this for a while, but as I feel like I need to get myself back on track - so goal setting it is.
If I'm honest, I've felt like I've been treading water for the last few months. My job, though fine, isn't that fulfilling and there's things I want to do and I need to put my mind to it.
I like achieving my goals, so here we go.
1) Back in the gym four times a week.
I'm in the gym two to three times a week. I also get a bit of incidental exercise in lugging around my work backpack. But I want more - I like my gym membership - I need to use it more. Not doing classes any more as the noise and the crowds get to me should not be a deterrent for going.
2) Read 50 pages a day
Again, I read a lot, but I want to get the works I read on paper or my kindle up. I've also got a thick book for book group. Must get reading it soon.
3) Strip the sugar out of my diet
I know I feel better without sugar. It's slid back in, it's time it went away again. Same goes for gluten, dairy and caffeine. I run better without all of these things.
4) A daily dose of Metamucil
Maybe file this under too much information, but the stuff does make you poo good. It goes well with the no sugar goal.
5) Write fiction
After the last Writer's Retreat, I'm all pumped about getting the first draft of this novel out the way. I've written nearly 90,000 words - there's about 30000 to finish it. It's just a matter of a lot of bum glue and getting over myself.
As there's no way I'll finish another book before the month turns over, I thought I'd do my monthly reading review tonight. I read seven books in June, and I'm well into another two which should be read by the end of the week.
So, without further ado, here's what I read. The great, the okay, and the well.... yeahs.
1) The Frozen River by Arial Lawhon - Paper - 3.5 stars
This was our book group read for the month, and while a lot of our group loved this I was left underwhelmed. This is a historical crime novel, based on the life of a midwife, Martha Ballard. As it goes, the book is very readable and the action keeps you going. Where it lost marks with me is that I found the characters two dimensional, and it had the Outlander mentality of having to put in every last detail of the research, making this a little overblown in places. As popular historical crime fiction goes it's great. For me - I prefer literary historical crime fiction. Give me Geraldine Brooks, Hannah Kent or Umberto Eco any day. It certainly wasn't a bad book - it just didn't meet my expectations.
2) Last One Out by Jane Harper - Audiobook - 3.5 stars
I've read most of what Jane Harper has written. Nobody does the Australian landscape like her. She also writes crime novels. Again, not normally my genre, but going on the strengths of The Dry and The Lost Man, I decided to give this a go.
Like the last book, it's not a bad book, but she has better. I mean, it's the story of a dying town. Ro, who was the local doctor, has come back on the anniversary of her son's disappearance. The town has been taken over my a large mining consortium and nobody is happy. Ro, of course, is discovering the town's secrets. Maybe it will lead to some answers at to what happened to her son.
As Jane Harper books go this is middling. I didn't mind it. I certainly liked it better than Exiles, but The Dry and The Lost Man remain my favourites.
3) Trust by Hernan Diaz - Audiobook - 4 stars
After two middling book, I wanted to read something that might have a bit more weight. Trust was long-listed for the Booker Prize and it won the Pulitzer Prize along with Demon Copperhead.
It was a good move. The writing is spectacular. It's intricately plotted. The characters are incredible. Wikipedia describes this as such:
"Set predominantly in New York City and focusing on the world of finance, the novel is a metafictional, fragmentary look at a secretive financier and his wife."
I loved this. It kept the brain working while the story grew layers and layers of meaning. It's not for everybody, but it fulfilled my literary needs.
4) Anybody Out There? by Marian Keyes - Audiobook - 3.5 Stars
Another favourite author, but not her best book. Anybody Out There? is Anna Walsh's story. I'm slowly working through the Walsh Family books. I've always loved Rachel's Holiday. Watermelon was good. The Mystery of Mercy Close was not bad. There's still a couple in the series I have to read.
Anybody Out There? focusses on Anna Walsh, who's moved to New York, has a great job, and is fantastic at faking her way through everything. How she's ended up sleeping in her parent's front room, with major injuries and no idea how she got them is the story.
In many ways, this is a book about grief and healing. It's also laugh out loud funny in places. You want to slap Anna a lot of the time.
Otherwise, this was as enjoyable as most of Keyes' other books. It was taken on as light relief after listening to/reading Trust.
5) I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman - Kindle - 3.75
This took me a long while to get into, and when I did get into it, I was wondering where it was going. Written in French and first published in 1995, its English translation has recently been rereleased.
As short, dystopian fiction, it's great. The synopsis is simple: Wikipedia describes it as such:
"Thirty-nine women and a girl are being held prisoner in a cage underground. The guards are all male, and never speak to them. The girl is the only one of the prisoners who has no memory of the outside world; none of them know why they are being held prisoner, or why there is one child among thirty-nine adults.
One day, an alarm sounds, and the guards flee; the prisoners are subsequently able to escape. They find themselves on an immense barren plain, with no other people anywhere, and no clue as to what has happened to the world.
The women form a community, build dwellings, and one by one mourn the deaths of their group. Finally, only the narrator is left living. In her wanderings she affirms the planet has “almost no seasons,” and decides she is no longer on Earth. After many years exploring, she discovers an underground bunker with lushly-appointed furnishings and a variety of inscrutable scientific equipment, some of which she associates with the bunker’s books on Astronautics. In this luxurious bunker, the narrator sets down her memoirs (the text of the novel), as she prepares to die of uterine cancer."
I can't say much more about it, but it stays with you. Academics write about this. It's stark and bleak. There is no reason why this is happening to the women, but the women are resilient.
I'll keep thinking about this for a while. I'm glad I had a plane trip to finish this one off. I've been trying to get through it for months. I'm glad I did.
6) The Heart's Invisible Furies by John Boyne - Audiobook - 4.5 stars
This is my pick of the month. I know John Boyne is a problematic author, but his work is amazing. If possible, I like this more than A Ladder to the Sky. The Heart's Invisible Furies follows the life of Cyril Avery. The son of an unmarried girl cast out of her village for becoming pregnant, his birth is fraught. He's adopted by an unconventional pair - a charlatan and an reclusive author. He befriends the love of his life at boarding school, but goes on to marry his sister,
Cyril is also very good and making the worst of decisions.
This is brilliant. Densely plotted, hysterically funny, tragic, finely drawn and very, very human.
I loved this. I know Boyne is retrograde in some of his views, but I'm choosing to distance the author from his works. This book is amazing.
7) Him by JD Kirk - Audiobook - 4 stars
This was a freebie from Audible - and a very timely and enjoyable one at that.
From what I can see, this is only available on audiobook.
From the author's website, the story is described as such:
Just because he sounds real, doesn’t mean he is…
"When Sarah’s husband, Nick, is killed in a car accident, her world shatters. Facing a future without him seems impossible.
But maybe she doesn’t have to.
When Sarah discovers EternaTech, the AI program Nick and his business partner have been working on in secret, she is given the chance to speak to Nick from beyond the grave.
It sounds like him. It feels like him…
As Sarah becomes consumed by her connection to this digital Nick, she begins uncovering secrets about his final days. But as she digs deeper, the lines between what’s real and what isn’t blur, and Sarah must confront a chilling, terrible truth.
Some things may be best left buried."
Mostly thriller, part cautionary tale, this looks at how AI can mess with your life. It's highly entertaining and thought provoking. Louise Brealy and David Tennant bring the book to life. It was worth my time.
And now, I'm off to bed, hoping that the cat doesn't wake me up at 4.30 again.I'm buggered.
The Show: LoveMusikbased on the book by Albert Uhry, Music by Kurt Weill
The Theatre: Downstair at the Belvoir Street Theatre
The Company: Neglected Musicals
Stars: 5
The limited run ends tonight. (24-28 June)
A couple of things happened last night. I caught up with a friend from my writing retreats. We went to see a show. I got to see a phenomenal piece of theatre. What more do you want?
Seeing this was a pure fluke. I like to see interesting theatre, but Sydney can be a bit of a cultural backwater. The one show that mildly interesting me was David Wenham in The Iliad, but the ticket prices were too steep. Then I looked up what the Belvoir Street Theatre was doing and this came out. A musical about Kurt Weill and his wife, Lotte Lenya. It had a four-day run in their smaller space. At $70 a ticket, it fit the bill. Even more so, my friend is a German teacher and there were some German themes that ran through this.
We turned up. the 80-seater theatre was full. On the small stage there were a number of chairs, with some props underneath and a keyboard.
For the next two hours we were mesmerised.
What I didn't know before seeing this was that the company behind this performance, Neglected Musicals, is a company that does just this - it takes musicals which are rarely performed, or never been performed in Australia. They go on a very limited run. The cast get one day's rehearsal, they go on, script in hand with a piano accompanist.
Theatre by the seat of your pants stuff.
A very talented professional cast.
Utter magic.
The musical revolves around the lives of the composer Kurt Weill (best known for writing the music for Mack the Knife) and his wife, Lotte Lenya and Weill's relationship with Bertholt Brecht.
Weill and Lenya's life is striking. Fraught, poignant, and incredibly interesting. The musical takes them from the excesses of the Weimar Republic, to their escape to America in the 1930s, to Weill's burgeoning celebrity, to life in New York and Hollywood, to Weill's death in 1950. This musical covers a lot of ground.
I was blown away within minutes.
The music was great. The story cohesive. The fact that the actors had a day's rehearsal to put on a musical of this calibre is incredible.
This is theatre by the seat of your pants. Looking at the cast's bios, there was a lot of musical theatre experience. This shone through. This was performed by a group of actors at the top of their game.
Most daftly, the cast wouldn't take a second curtain call. No idea why. They had the whole audience by the heart.
In some ways, this reminded me of shows that La Mama or The Red Stitch Actors Theatre put on. It's great to know that Sydney has such an outlet.
For me, I'm just honoured that I got to see this on this limited run. As somebody who doesn't normally like musicals, this one fit the bill.
I'm just back from the theatre. Normally, I would be making a go of a review of this play, but I really want to mull this one over a bit more. It was fantastic.
Regardless, here are the Sunday Stealing questions for this week. It's easier than writing about the incredible piece of theatre I was lucky enough to see.
I LOVE TO be in water. Be it a bath or a shower or a swimming pool or the sea or jumping in puddles or getting caught in the rain. I love being in water.
I SOMETIMES wonder what would happen if my hard won, oft used filter left me and I got to say exactly what I was thinking when I was thinking it. I do have a filter. Some might think that I don't have one, but I do - and I know I only use it selectively anyway, but yeah... that could be fun.
I FEAR this romp towards the right. The Christian Fundamentalist lurch to controlling women's bodies is absolutely obscene.
I MISS living in England. I loved it over there. I know it's a very different place from when I left it over twenty years ago, but I still miss it. Britain is far more accepting of the barking mad - of which I class myself. I fitted in better there.
I CRAVE lots of things. Ice cream. Sex. The turn of a beautiful sentence. Long, slow kisses. A holiday. Bahn Mi for lunch. A wander around a cathedral. Rain. Kinder politics. Better journalism... want me to go on.
I CHERISH time with friends. Education. Kindness.
I AM IMPATIENT WHEN _people walk slowly in front of me. I'm just back from Sydney. Sydney people do this all the time. I want to slap them about the head.
Argh! The first Toy Story movie came out in 1995 - 30 bloody years ago!
Now, in the age of tech and devices, will a Toy Story movie stand up?
Yes, it does. This is delightful - with some great messaging, a lot of laughs and a comfort factor. This is a kid's movie adults can happily watch, get a hit of nostalgia and wonder at the creativity of some people.
The premise is fairly simple. Woody, Buzz, Jessie and the rest of the gang's jobs are challenged when they're introduced to electronics, a new threat to playtime.
Jessie (Joan Cusack) is still leading the charge with the toys. Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen) is still pining over her, and Woody (Tom Hanks) and Bo Peep have retired nearby. But when Bonnie's parents succumb and buy her a Lily Pad tablet (Greta Lee), the toys feel they've been made redundant, being relegated to the garage or the opp shop.
What follows in an hour and three quarters of delight, as the toys try to get back together and find Bonnie some friends.
The film has a lot to say about kids today, the dependance on devices and the seeming lack of imagination kids have today.
I won't say much more. Written and direct by McKenna Harris and Andrew Stanton, they know what they're doing. This will appeal to kids and much as it will the adults who are taking them along - as well as the couple of middle-aged women looking to see something light on a Friday night.
I'm very lucky with my neighbours. They're nice people. They're quiet. And we all have a chat in the stairwell every so often. Easy neighbours. Helpful neighbours. We don't live in each other's pockets, but it's good that we are friendly enough to say hi.
Tonight, I ran into Ross, who lives downstairs.
He's a long, stringy country boy from rural Queensland. He's in the process of changing careers, as being a mechanic wasn't working for him anymore. He's currently got a warehouse job at a high-end French bakery down the road. Lucky bloke.
Being from rural Queensland, there's no flies on Ross. He's lovely, and willing to learn. He admits that his tastes aren't refined, but he's open minded. I love this about him.
We had a chat about tea. He spent the day sorting out a bulk order of French tea.
"I thought there was two types of tea - English Breakfast and Earl Grey," he told me.
"Nah, there are lots more to see and try. Doesn't matter if you don't like them all, but if you're willing to try, then good for you."
"Yeah," he said, "It's like the macaroons..."
"You mean macarons - macaroons are made of coconut but your nana. Macron is the French President. Macarons are the things your bakers make."
"It's so hard, this French stuff."
"You'll learn. If you want a hand, I can give you some tips."
We then got onto the subject of dinner. He was heading out to the supermarket.
"I've got bogan nachos for dinner tonight."
"Bogan nachos?"
"Easy dinner, because I'm wiped. You get a packet of Doritos, tip a can of baked beans over then, and some grated cheese. Chuck them in the oven for ten minutes, and voila!"
"But isn't that how everybody makes nachos?" he asked. "By the way, Doritos - corn chip of champions."
Today was my monthly engineer lunch day. I went into the office because of this - otherwise I could have worked from home. But as it was engineer lunch day, I dutifully went in.
Engineer lunch?
I have lunch with an engineer. We've been doing this for the best part of years.
Dave and I were in the same team at a Telco back in the late naughties. Yes, I was working in an engineering team.
Dave is one of those quiet people who normally doesn't say boo to a goose. He's universally respected across whatever company he works at, but he's one of those typical engineers that normally look down when speaking to you... you know, complete introvert, a cow lick, wears lots of blue, grey and brown and is generally nondescript.
Except, being on this strange team, we got to know each other.
And after I got made redundant at the back end of 2010, we made a promise to meet for lunch once a month.
15 years on, we still meet for lunch once a month.
Other than we're both well into our 50s, think similarly on most things political and laugh at the youth of today, we have very little in common. Other than we have lunch with one another once a month.
Today, we talked about lots of things over Grill'd burgers. His daughters finishing school, aging parents, possible holidays, and my last writing retreat.
"I read my book while I was down the Great Ocean Road. Read my book and patted the dog and that was it."
"No naked swimming?"
"Nope. I was tending the fire that I'd lit. For a change, I was happy on the couch with a coffee, a crochet hook and a spare dog."
"Heaven?"
"Yeah."
"And the book?"
"Not awful. I now need to find some accountability monitors?"
"Somebody to check in with?"
"Yep. I've set myself a goal to finish the first draft by the November Gunnas. Wanna be my accountability monitor. You don't have to read it, but you can see that there's progress."
In preparation to get writing this last bit of this bloody novel, between adding closed captions to work videos, I did some digging.
How good was 1997 for music.
I mean, seriously, I can play a heap of these songs, and I'm transported straight back to West Hampstead. We're in the days of the best of Britpop.
The year got off to a great start with Blur going into their experimental phase. I love their 1999 song Tender more, but this one has legs.
Then there's the song that every time I hear it, I remember having a friend stay at the flat. She's been on a Contiki Tour around Europe and was used to getting woken up at all hours to this song. If a Contiki Tour wasn't purgatory enough, being woken to Hansen each morning would have had be jumping off the nearest aqueduct. (Said person is now a very senior Doctor - I wonder if they have memories of sleeping on our couch.)
We can't go past 1997 without a nod to Natalie Imbruglia. This is one friend's favourite song - I think he was a little in love with her from a long distance. I still love the song. It was all over the pubs in 1997. Now, I know her cousin. Two degrees of separation.
My theme song for the second half of 1997 was this banger. I will admit to quite a bit of alcohol was drunk back then.
It's hard to believe that Chumbawumba came up with the theme song of 2026. (This is so worth a listen.)
The Verve had one of the biggest albums of the year. Although they will always remind me of my cousin, who also slept on my couch for a few weeks around this time, who used to drink all the milk (bless her) we shared a love of this album. The songs still stand up.
I remember The Prodigy coming out with this and initially hating it. The downstairs neighbours, a group of Aussies and Kiwis, told me to stick with it. It will grow on you they said. Like warts they said. It did. Admittedly, they were more into clubbing than I was. But they were right.
And another one of my theme songs.
I could go on.
1997 wasn't that bad. Fantastic music in a crap year.
And the best song of the year. See below. This is would be my karaoke song if I was ever stupid enough to get up at karaoke.
I spent most of this last weekend at a table in a chapel down the Great Ocean Road reading a manuscript.
My manscript.
87,000 words, that I wrote in 2019.
I barely moved from my position at the back of the chapel. I'd set up ADHD corner - my computer, crochet, my manuscript, computer peripherals - the complete dog's breakfast, bit if you're going to hunker down and read 87000 words, you want to feel at home.
I did it too - got through the whole thing. If you think about it the modern-day novel runs to around 100,000 words, that's around 80% of a book. I had a pen in hand, making a few slashes, making a few notes, but mostly I read, and took in what it was I'd done.
A little surprisingly, I wasn't about to slit my wrists or stick my fingers down my throat. It's okay. Sure, it needs work, but this is, as we Gunnas call it, the down draft. Then you do the up draft, where you sort out all the issues and really knock the whole thing into shape. Then there's the dental draft, or the proof edit.
Structurally, it's pretty sound. I like the meandering through London in the 90s. Although they have to be taken out, I really like the song lyrics at the start of each chapter. I want to make a playlist of these songs to go with the manuscript. Having the songs playing helped me write this.
However, when I got to the end of the manuscript - this book which mirrors my own life, it abruptly stopped.
Far too much happened that year. Okay, my Dad died in the April, Lady Di went in July and lots of other things which threw everything off-kiltre.
It's the year when everything came to a head.
It's no wonder I stopped writing this.
Six years on, a lot more life and some more perspective, I think I'm ready to tackle this again and finish it off.
I have put myself down for the November Gunnas retreat. I want to have the first draft finished by then.
As Dev says, you're always doomed to stop writing at ME-FA or LA-TEE (This is a Sound of Music reference - Doh, Rey, Me, Fa, Soh, La, Tee, Doh. You're likely to give up at that 30% or 70% mark.
It's time to bite the bullet and get this out there.
I can do this.
1997 was an Annus Horribilus, bit it was 30 years ago. It can't hurt me.
Wish me luck. I have four months to knock this out.
Here's the thing. I'm in Australia. We don't have the same stores at the malls over here. It's a bit of a different shopping culture. But that is okay, we'll make these questions work.
I could tell you about the weekend I've had down here at my three-monthly writer's retreat down the Great Ocean Road. It's been amazing. I've got a lot of editing done.
Anyway, here are the questions, brought to you by Sunday Stealing.
1. Target or Walmart, or other superstore?
Fun fact. We don't have Walmart in Australia, and Target, which used to be great, has been rolled into Kmart. I am a big fan of Kmart. Target used to do great clothes, but they have gone downhill (or my standards have got better - one of the other. ) The Woolworths brand has Big W, which is also good.
But yeah, no Walmart in Australia, and Target is mostly clothing and homewares now.
2. Dollar Tree or Dollar General, or poundstretcher/99p store?
Again, it's Australia - no Dollar Tree, Dollar General or Poundstretcher, but we do have what is called the Asian Shit Shop. It is not that any reflection of the people running the stores, who are always lovely, but they are normally of Asian extraction. So, for example, Daiso is the Japanese Shit Shop. I love a good Shit Shop. Great for fire lighters, hair accessories and other things you never knew you needed.
3. Best Buy or any other electronics/appliance store?
Again, we're Australian - no Best Buy.
But, for white goods (fridges, washing machines etc.) it's off to E&S trading or The Good Guys. For electronics you go to JB HiFi.
I refuse to go to Harvey Norman (also known as Hardly Normal) as they did the dirty on their staff during COVID in a very public way and I've still not forgiven them.
A lot of these stores are found on a state by state basis. All same same, but different.
4. Book/music store?
I love a good independent book store - nothing better, so in Melbourne, that is Readings or Avenue Books, or The Hill of Content in the city, or The Paperback Bookstore.
We also have a decent chain bookstore - Dymocks, which you can get everything at, and bonus, they're Australian owned.
I love Waterstones in Britain, and when in Paris, there is only one Shakespeare and Sons.
Bonus question! Where do you want to stop for lunch?
At my local centre, I always head to Roll'd a chain Vietnamese place. Vietnamese food is incredible.
If you leave me to the elements, leave me to water. Earth and air and fire all have their charms. The stability, the movement and the heat all have their charms, but for me, I need the water. I need flow. I need the peace and fear, the changes, the erosion, the unprecedented power that can destroy in minutes, yet meander to a trickle moments later. Leave me in a field where a gentle misty rain patters over my body. Leave me on a rugged beach with the full force of the ocean paces away. Leave me by a river where I can watch the day float by.
I’m sitting here listening to the Southern Ocean. The waves, body height, slamming into the shore. The sand, once boulders, macerating into grains, the wind blowing foam into the atmosphere.
Why does this feel so calming, despite the destruction going on around me?
It it because we are more than 90% water? Is it something inherent in my make up. Is it part of the human spirit to want to be near water - to immerse our souls in a body, hurling, breathing, roiling, to take us over? Are we on the look out for the seventh wave, the one that will wipe us out? Do we look for the whales which may be passing.
Tonight was no different. I'd done a quick supermarket run to get Ben's beer. Who's Ben? Ben is one of the catering team at the retreat. I walk into the dining room at lunch and dinner, Ben, without asking, puts a beer in my hand. I've not asked for this, but who's to say no when you're given a beer? In return, I bring beer to Ben at the start of the retreat so I'm not drinking his.
Anyway, I got the beer, and some other necessities, then did the bad thing and went into the book shop.
Book shops are evil places. Whoever put the book shop next to the supermarket needs to be severely dealt with, but that too is another battle for another day
I'm well known in there.
I took my purchase up to the counter.
As I often do, I struck up a conversation with the girl behind the desk, as I often do.
"So, what are you reading?"
It sounds like a pickup line.
"Me. Well, on my kindle I've trying to get into Jacqueline Harpman's I Who Have Never Known Men. On paper, there's the new Steve Toltz, which I'm struggling with, and on audio, for my sins, I'm getting into a John Boyne, even if it isn't quite politically correct."
"I've always wanted to read him."
"He's fantastic. But he's a TERF. I have to separate that his work is amazing from the fact that he doesn't align with my beliefs."
TERF you ask? According to Google, a definition for it is as follows:
"TERF stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. It refers to a specific group of feminists who believe that womanhood is strictly defined by biological sex and therefore exclude transgender women from women's spaces, rights, and the broader feminist movement."
We got into a bit of a discussion about this. We both agreed we'd rather face a trans woman in the loos than a bloke. That we couldn't see what the issue was with sport, with maybe a look at a case-by-case basis at the elite levels - seriously let kids play sport and be done with it.
I said that I loved Boyne's work. That A Ladder to the Sky was fantastic and I'm thoroughly enjoying The Hearts Invisible Furies. I find him hilarious. I also love how well he draws queer characters. Boyne, himself, is gay, which is why the TERF thing is a bit surprising. The way he deals with sexuality is an absolute treat.
And then again, we read George Orwelll, knowing full well he was a rapey, thieving bastard. Evelyn Waugh was allegedly a cunt. There are plenty of horrid writers out there who we read for the love of their books, but not for them.
And don't get me started on JK Rowling...
"Anyway, I love the writing of John Boyne, even if I'm not fond of some of his viewpoints."
"And that's fair. I'll get him out of the library - that way he doesn't get a cent, but I can see what he writes."
She had a very visible Pride badge on her lanyard. It is Pride month, after all.
"Are you queer?" she asked me.
I was a bit floored by that. Having been asked this a few months ago, it tripped me up then too.
"Am I queer? I'm not sure how to answer that. Umm, maybe,"
This is where I defaulted to the last time I was asked this question. Unlike the last time where I was with a trusted friend and I landed on the fact that I'm probably a pansexual but have never explored it - or maybe I'm sapiosexual, as nothing turns me on like a good mind, you're not going to go into your sexual identity in the local book shop.
"You know," I told her," I might be queer. If I am, that's great. If I'm a boring old CIS gendered heterosexual, that's fine too. But one thing I am, 100% of the time, is an ally."
I have a vivid memory of my childhood of being told by my grandfather that watching television makes you lazy.
He might be right.
Yet ever since then, some decades ago, to counteract the laziness, I've always knitted and crocheted in front of the telly.
That way I am always doing something in front of the telly, negating the feeling that I am being lazy.
I'll thank my grandfather for that.
The only problem with this is that sometimes I get consumed with my handicraft projects. I find them relaxing - but nothing else gets done.
So, tonight is a no crochet night. There are things to do.
My neighbour is taking care of Lucifer this weekend, she's been over collect the keys and receive instructions. She has four cats, so she knows what she's doing.
The place needs cleaning. I want to get the ironing out of the way. And I need to start a batch of biscuits for our caterers at the retreat because I've been promising them a batch for a while.
So, no crochet tonight.
The biscuits are in the oven. I'll ice them tomorrow.
I've started the ironing.
The floors will get done tomorrow.
The cat might forgive me for leaving him in the capable hands of my lovely neighbour sometime before Christmas.
It was book group tonight, and once again, I think I'm going to be the hold out.
I didn't really like the book. I didn't hate the book. But I didn't love the book.
And you often have better conversations when you don't like the book.
The book was a popular fiction book - historical fiction with an element of murder mystery/thriller, which is fine - books mix genres all the time, but this felt like it was doing too much.
My biggest beef was that there were too many characters, none of whom had any character arc - no growth to speak for. Everybody was a caricature. The plot was somewhat convoluted, but in its thriller form, this was to be expected. I did like part of the ending in a Javert jumping off the bridge at the end of Les Miserables.
Yet the setting was great.
Also, the main character, a midwife in Maine in the 1790s was a modern woman. As much as I got her, and her relationship with her husband, it felt a bit to modern, like the writer was trying to shoehorn all of their research into this.
The names Hannah Kent and Geraldine Brooks were raised - both write historical fiction - but literary historical fiction. Their characters are better developed, not so two dimensional.
And this is why I err towards the more literary of fiction.
And as I said, I didn't hate the book. It wasn't a struggle to read, but I felt it was lacking and a bit convoluted in parts - and possibly 50 pages too long.
That's fair, isn't it. And it's what book group is all about. You don't necessarily have to love the book.
Ah well, we'll see what next month brings.
(For those wondering, the book was Ariel Lawhon's The Frozen River. Many adore it. Don't let my thoughts put you off).
I did successful adulting today. Yes, I know I'm an adult, and Ive been one of them for over three decades, but today, I was very proud of myself.
It's to do with car maintenance.
Growing up in the country (and having a bit of a useless dad) I learned to do a lot of things because ultimately it was easier to do these things myself. Also, growing up with old bangers for cars, I was very good at checking the oil, water, tyre pressure and the like. I learned that you could fix most things with WD40, duct tape, bailing twine and a thump of a spanner.
Some three decades on, I live in the city. I no longer drive down dirt roads that are half potholes. I have a much nicer car, although Edna the '66 EJ Holden was pretty special, even if she was rusty and liked to drink oil and petrol.
Not Edna, but she looked just like this, only with more rust
And my car has a tyre pressure warning light, which has been going off recently.
Normally, I ignore it, then check the tyre pressure next time I'm at a petrol station.
Saturday, I did just this. Checked the tyres (see - adult thing to do). Three were fine. The front passenger side one was sitting at around 25 psi. I pumped it up, because I'm an adult and minor car maintenance is a good thing to do.
When I got home, I called what used to be called Kmart Tyre and Auto and asked a few questions. I said I'm keep my eye on the tyre as it seems drivable, but if it had deflated again, I'd call Monday morning to have a book it in for them to have a look.
Sunday comes, I go about my day, pass by a service station, check the tyre - back down to 25 psi.
And today the guys from what used to be Kmart Tyre and Auto got hold of my car at lunchtime and fixed the small puncture. $50 to get it sorted. Much better than going down the Great Ocean Road on the weekend and finding you have a flat down at Apollo Bay and having to drive back on those lego tyres they give you instead of a full spare.
The great thing about Star Wars films is that you know what you're going to get. The Resistance are in a pickle; the Empire are trying to get back into power and what looks like an impossible mission is undertaken, normally understaffed, seemingly deadly, but somehow, our heroes and heroines prevail. And the technology remains the same - it looks like you construct a lot of it from the odd-lots bin at Bunnings.
The Mandalorian and Grogu is no different, and that's what makes is fun.
I'll also say that I've not watched the series on Disney about Grogu. I'm not that interested.
But this was fun.
Pedro Pascal is the Mandalorian in charge of looking after Grogu, a baby Yoda arrangement as they try and claim a bounty on another member of the Empire who's in hiding. They are told that if they get in leagues with the Hutts (remember Jabba the Hutt, his family). Jeremy Allen White is the voice of Rodda the Hutt - the Hutt who's actually alright.
Then there is Grogu, who's an absolute hoot. Clever is he.
I also love the little guys who came to his rescue.
Written and directed by Jon Favreau, probably best known as Happy Hogan in the Marvel films, has done a good job with this. It has great action, great heart and a lot of laughs. Most of the time you're laughing at Grogu's antics - he's a hoot.
In all, I enjoyed this, tagging along Blarney and Barney.
You get what you pay for - I was happily entertained.
I've two projects on the go. I will be able to go back to my shrink this week (six monthly review) and tell her that I have finished some projects, but I will have to confess that I've started two more.
There is a method in my ADHD driven quirkiness.
I have two projects with different deadlines.
One is a blanket for Blarney. I'm making this for her for Christmas. I'm using Bendigo Woolen Mills Wool - proper natural fibres. Expensive wool. It can be an heirloom if it's looked after, bit it will be serviceable, useful as well. She still has the one I made with cheap acrylic yarn some 20 years ago.
I'm using 12 ply yarn with a 4.5 mm crochet hook.
And if I'm going to be certain to finish it, crocheting while I'm in front of the telly, I need to start it now.
However, my other project - and I'm not sure who will be receiving this one, is made from cheapy Kmart cake yarn.
It's roughly a 12 ply. I'm crocheting up squares using a 3.5 mm hook - so they are tighter than the other blanket. I get around4 square per colour in the ball - there are five separate colours in each ball.
Then I sew them into to blanket.
I'm not the world's best sewer (nor crocheter either, but still - I'm consistent and quick). I'm learning not to berate myself if I put a square on the wrong way. I'm not fretting over the fact that some squares have to colours in them. I'm trying to ease myself out of getting this blanket perfect and overcome my addiction to perfection. It's lovely in its simplicity and incongruency.
I think this will be awesome when I'm done with it. Any spare yarn will be turned into cat and do blankets. Blarney's cats get a small blanket for Christmas most years. I also will make one for my Roman, my trainer Chuck's dog - he loves the one I made him last year.
All I know is that this keeps my busy brain happy. I'm so glad I have these skills.
I'm just back from fish and chips with friends. I'm going to have to think about doing a curry night at my place once of these days.
Being completely devoid of what to write about, I found the weekly questions up, hence, I'll give them a crack.
This week's questions were collated by Sunday Stealing, who asked we regulars to provide questions to make our own meme. I think we did a good job.
1. Would you rather have every traffic light turn green or always get the best parking spot? (Kwizgiver)
I'm going to go with the parking spot. I don't mind the odd red light. I either listen to audio books or make phone calls when I'm in the car, so it means a few extra minutes. I'm on reasonable terms with the Parking Fairy (it's a concept I can explain, but she helps me manifest good parking spots, and I am very grateful for her existence).
2. What's the most difficult thing you have ever done? (Gold in the Clouds)
It's one of these:
Giving up caffeine - I gave it up around 8 years ago and recently brought it back in. I know I'm better off without it - but I like it!
I've run five half-marathons.
And fallen out of love. That was hard.
3. What information do you know that you are proud of/happy about, but others say, "Who cares?" (Roger)
I have a lot of pet passion projects - one of the joys of being ADHD, and there are all sorts of things that nobody gives a toss about. I can go on ad infinitum about things like:
The Pixies
Talking Heads
Obscure English films
Tudor History
Australian politics
4. What mystery do you wish you knew the answer to? (Myra/Mevely)
One of the following:
What happened to the princes in the Tower.
What happened to the Beaumont children (Adelaide mystery from the sixties)
Why people voted in Donald Trump.
5. What small, ordinary thing brings you disproportionate joy? (Country Dew)
The smell of my cat's paws. Just the smell of my cat makes me happy.
6. What time do you go to sleep/wake up? (Annie)
I head to bed between midnight and one and wake around seven to seven thirty. I don't sleep much, but thankfully, that is normally good sleep.
7. What is your favorite sleeping position? (Lisa)
I start out on my stomach and gravitate towards my side. I rarely sleep on my back.
8. Describe your personal Utopia. (Pandora)
My personal Utopia is permanently set in an Australian winter in bushland, with an open fire, plenty of books, gin, a big, comfortable bed, with a jacuzzi out the back (near a sauna) and a big table for writing at. There are lots of big armchairs, a chaise lounge to kip on and some crafts to do. The kitchen is well stocked and there's a variety of gins to enjoy. Sound good?
9. Imagine that you have a machine that can create any new invention for you based on your description. What you ask the machine to create, and why? (Plastic Mancunian)
I'd love a machine that types out what I'm thinking without having to use my fingers or dictate. It would save me a lot of time.
I live in Richmond. I know how to get parking in Richmond.
I'm not so fond of finding parking in Brunswick. It's awful - though I have found that there's a Woolies car park near where I'm going - $10 for two to three hours.
It's that, or an hour each way on public transport. or $50 in Uber rides.
So, yeah, f*ck Brunswick.
I'd better get out there, get ready to tackle Hoddle Street and get to this jazz club.
The things you do for friends.
(And I'd also be saying the same things if I was going to Carlton, Fitzroy or St Kilda - parking is hard).
I like working out one-on-one with Chuck, even if he makes me work hard.
I did a PB on the lat pull down machine tonight. Think I scared the bloke on the next machine who was pulling half weight I was.
I was thrilled to see my gym mate come in a showoff his knitting. I have to take in my crochet next week.
I've also promised my trainer I'll make his dog a new blanket for Christmas - it's just the way I roll.
Today, I spent a bit of time watching Dutch football fans. To participate in this, for me, would be the eighth level of hell, but they look like they're having a good time.
Is it just me or are the Yanks doing everything in their power to ruin the World Cup. I don't give a fig about the World Cup, but it makes a lot of my friends happy and I am pissed off for them.
I'm hoping that's the three as I'm not sure I can handle much more.
Celebrity deaths come in threes.
First, Neale Daniher. Then Anthony Head. Now, this morning, Richard Collyer.
If I was still participating in that most questionable of games, Death Watch, a game which an old, cynical journalist, I will admit that Neale Daniher and Richard Collyer would probably be mentioned.
For those not aware of the Death Watch concept, the more cynical of journos make a list at the start of the year. A list of the great and good who they think may kick the bucket in the preceding calendar year. This is not a list made out of spite or malice. It's just your predictions of who you think may shrug the mortal coil. The death needs to be noted in at least two major papers. We're not talking about your 103-year-old uncle, or your nana. These are the passings of notable people whose names you know.
If I'm being honest, if was to make such a list, Neale Daniher and Richard Collyer would possibly be on there. Great men. Their amazing works have contributed to society. Their memories are a blessing, their works will continue. And they are no longer suffering. Daniher was given the Motor Neurone diagnosis over ten years ago. The normal life expectancy for MND is two years. Collyer's aggressive brain cancer was treated, and he was given some more time. Both will be remembered for their fighting spirits and generous ways. Can you ask for more than that?
The third passing, Anthony Head, is just very sad. He's been on our television screens for decades. Rupert Giles in Buffy. Uther Pendragon in Merlin. Rupert Manion in Ted Lasso. He played a mean Frankenfurter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. His performances were always nuanced. He got the best out of any performance he gave. And by all accounts, he was the nicest, kindest and most generous of colleagues, friends and performers.
It's never easy when one of your celebrity crushes goes by the way. Anthony Head was one of mine.
I'm hoping that's it for the while. That's the three celebrities gone.
And sure, they killed off a favourite character on Rivals the other night - it's not the same.
I'm also not sure Donald Trump will be around for much longer - he looks awful - and possibly the global response to him no longer being around might be met with something different to the sadness and reverence I'm feeling at the moment.
Of course, I was going to love this. It has the hallmarks of something I'd love - an English film, about art, set in London, directed by Steven Soderburgh, with a fantastic cast.
This had me spellbound. I'm not sure if it was Michaela Coel's cheekbones, or the slightly barking plot or the slightly shaky camerawork in places, but to me, this was gold. It's a dark comedy in many ways - but not overly so. I loved it. It hit the spot well good.
The action takes place in London, where Laurie (Michaela Coel) an art restorer and occasional forger, is approached by Sallie (Jessica Gunning) and Barnaby (James Corden) to go into their father's place and 'finish' a last set of his paintings. Their father, Julian (Ian McKellen) is dying. He's also irascible, painful, rather funny, and as it turns out, Laurie's nemesis. You see, Julian is a famous artist. He's also known for being a bastard. Sallie and Barnaby want Laurie to finish these painting so they will have an inheritance.
The movie shows the ins and outs of Laurie and Julian's relationship. It's a game of cat and mouse as Laurie tries to wheedle her way into Julian's world but also wrangles with the ethics of what the terrible twosome wants her to do. Added on top of this, her reasons for hating Julian are very relevant. You also want to find out just who Christopher is and why these paintings are such a source of pain for Julian.
Directed by Steven Soderbergh, most of the film is set in Julian's dreadfully messy apartment. The warren like nature of the space us juxtaposed with the twists and turns of the story.
Both Michaela Coel and Ian McKellen are superb in this as the talented student and the established artist. It's tender, spit take funny in places and thought provoking. I mean in the scheme of things, what is art? What makes something art? And why are some things far more valuable than others. (I loved Julian's line "This will hang with the worst paintings of all time, along with dogs playing poker, velvet Elvis, and most of Warhol.")
This is definitely worth a look. You don't have to be an art lover to enjoy this thought-provoking, interesting film.
3. You can only have one sandwich for the rest of your life. You have every sandwich-making ingredient known to man at your disposal. What sandwich do you make?
A Rueben Sandwich,just like Izzy makes them at my favourite deli in Caulfield. They must be toasted and warm and there must be no shirking on the sauerkraut or Russian dressing.
4. An angel provides you with a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. What's it gonna be?
Gin. If I am to be specific, make that Never Never Triple Juniper Gin. Smoother than a babie's bum that stuff.
5. Have you ever built a snowman?
Ah, no, there isn't much snow in Melbourne (though we do have some great snowfields here. I haven't seen snow in Australia since I went on a ski camp in 1994.
6. If you could ask your future self a question, what would it be?
Is there anybody out there for me? (I know, daft and stupid at my age. )
7. Have you ever baked your own birthday cake?
I think I have. Again, one of the joys of being single. I've definitely bought my own birthday cake - more than once.
8. Which are cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?
Dragons. Always dragons. I'm part Welsh. It has to be dragons.
9. What do you like about babies?
They smell good and they are ultimately untapped, un-fucked-up potential. How cool is that?
10. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. What's the first rule you put in place?
You must be kind. If you're found to be willingly unkind, that's you done.
It's a bit sad that I had to go away for a day and think about this.
Last night I drew a Dev Card, having no inspiration to write. It says,:
What are your love languages for giving a receiving love?
These five love languages describe ways people give and receive love
Words of affirmation
Quality time
Physical touch
Acts of service
Receiving gifts
Write some new love languages and list the ways you show and feel love.
I still feel like a fraud writing this, however, after mulling this over for the day, here's what I came up with.
If I want to show love, I will make you something. I'm always making things. I need to be creative to survive, but if I actually set out to make you something, you know that I care for you. I'm already making a blanket for Blarney for Christmas - I normally make her cats little blankets each year for their beds, replacing them annually, as by Christmas each year, they're pretty manky.
I love knitting or crocheting things. I've always wanted to have a partner who I could make jumpers for. I think that would be bloody marvelous.
I also love to cook for people, not that I do that often. A small act of service.
There's something in me that tries to visit people in hospital or send a text to see how they are doing if I know things are a bit amiss.
These are small things.
I'm told I'm kind to a fault. I don't think kindness can ever be a fault.
Oh, and I will recommend you films and books and music with a huge smile on my face.
As for receiving love.
Well:
Cuddle me
Feed me
Let me play with your kitten or puppy (friends know how happy this makes me
Talk to me
Take me to an art gallery or museum or some sort of interesting installation.
Watch a sunrise or sunset with me
Ply me with beer (or gin)
Or, if it's going round, give me a puff of your wacky backy - just a puff.
After a day when the video file I was working on corrupted after a couple of detailed hours of work. Rather than having a hissy fit, I got on with the work of recreating the video. So, I've been sitting staring at a computer for most of the day and I really cannot be asked to sit down in front of one again. Besides, the cat is asleep on my office chair.
So I’ve pulled this Dev Card And it’s asking me what my love languages are.
Love languages?
I do not have a bloody clue.
As somebody who lives a fairly solitary life I don’t know if I can answer that question without thinking about it a lot more..
so, I’m going to dwell on this for a bit more, and leave it for another time, when I’ve thought about this a bit more. I really have no idea how to answer this question.
And I can move the cat off of my office chair and then go to bed.
Working from home makes it easier to get to a 5 pm dentist appointment? And then it makes it easier to go to the gym an hour and a half later. It's even better when you know that you aren't going to be walking home in the cold and the rain m (or waiting for an uber) but rather collecting your car from the rock star car park outside the surgery.
It's a pity I need to go into the office tomorrow - getting my eyebrows done after work. A necessary evil.
And who knew that cooking lunch would put you in a manic earworm afternoon. It's an earworm nobody in Australia seems to know. I mean, this is like the best football song in the world, and yes, there is a part of me that absolutely believes that I'm British, and I love English footy songs... but have you any idea how bad it is when you go around singing "Vindaloo" all afternoon?
Lunch was yummy. I don't make a bad chicken vindaloo. I just wish it didn't come with a song. And I wish I had a Peshwari naan to go with it. Thankfully Coles has basmati rice and mango chutney.
Vindaloo... vindaloo... vindaloo, vindaloo, nah nah...
Hospital visits are easier to make when you know the person is going to be alright. There's no hand wringing, no pondering, no discomfort. It's just a visit to a friend in an unusual place.
I don't mind hospitals. My mother was a nurse, my father was in and out of them when I was a child. They're a fact of life. Nothing to be scared of. Maybe being a little more aware of the rigmaroles, the smells and sounds makes it easier. They don't phase me.
Tonight, after work, after getting home, feeding the cat and feeding myself, I went up the road to the Freemasons to visit a friend. She's going to be fine, probably going home tomorrow after being in for a few days.
I've visited many a person at this hospital. I've sprung numerous friends from there after small and large procedures. I remember taking Blarney for burnouts in a wheelchair - because that's how I roll.
Early in the evening, the hospital is quiet. The person at the desk gave good directions after remembering I had to call my friend by her actual name, not by what I call her.
You follow the lines, take the slow, rickety lift, look out for the signage for where you're going. It's not that hard.
You sit with your friend, who's frankly looking better than I thought she was going to look and have a good chat about what's going on. We watched some telly and traded a few Pokemon.
The tea lady came in offering a hot beverage. She was lovely enough to give me a cup and a couple of biscuits in plastic wrapping (not so strangely, these are the same biscuits we get in the kitchen at work).
Then, after about an hour, when the visiting hours are coming to an end, you bid your friend goodbye, and go in reverse, out of the ward towards the slow lift. You thank the tea lady for the decent cup of tea and for looking after your friend. You schlep your way towards the front door and head out into the cold night.
You also remain very thankful that the friends you're visiting will be well in the end. They've been fixed up, and now the real healing begins.
It makes going into these places just that little bit easier.
I set myself the goal to read at least six books in June. I read eight in the end. This includes two of the best books I've read in the last few years as well as some utter rubbish. It was mostly fiction, but there's a non-fiction title in there as well.
Here's my list, which includes the format in which I read the book and a rating.
I've read some of Rebecca Yarros's contemporary fiction in the past and enjoyed it. This is at another level. The story of a girl who was supposed to be a scribe (read historian or academic) but ends up, under her mother's command, to enter flight school where she hopes to bond with a dragon and be a fighter. Fun, eh!
Yarros knows how to spin a story. She has some great, memorable characters. I'm very glad I listened to this one as the physical book would have been hard on my hands. But I'll go and read the next one, just to see what happens. It suckered me in. I was talking to a colleague about it all - there were laughing at some of my reactions.
It's good fun for light fantasy.
2) The Great Fortune by Olivia Manning - Audio - 4
The book is fascinating. Although the writing feels a bit dated, it was enjoyable. I'm looking forward to the next installment of the trilogy. (There are six books in all - two trilogies, which span from 1939 to just after the war). It's been on my list of things to read for years.
3) Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy - Paper - 4 stars
This was our book group book for May, and it was amazing. Many of our group gave it a 5 stars - I was a little more reticent, but I really enjoyed it.
The story is complex, told through the eyes of the Salt family. Father Dominic, elder son, Raff, daughter Fen and Orly, the youngest and a polymath. The family live on Shearwater Island, in the middle of the Pacific closer to Antarctica than anywhere else (It's geographically based on Macquarie Island - look it up.) The island has been a research base for years, however climate change and rising seas mean that the see bank needs to be shut down and the family removed to the mainland.
One day, a woman, barely alive, washes up on the beach. Rowan is a woman on a mission. Why is she there? What secrets are the family keeping? Will the family be able to get out on time.
So much happens in this book. I was a little disappointed with the ending, but it is a wonder to behold. it comes highly recommended.
4) Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke - Audio - 5 stars
This is the best thing I've read this year. It may be the best thing I've read in the last two years. It's incredible, but it won't be for everybody.
The Goodreads' blurb says the following:
"Natalie lives a traditional lifestyle. Her charming farmhouse is rustic, her husband a handsome cowboy, her six children each more delightful than the last. So what if there are nannies and producers behind the scenes, her kitchen hiding industrial-grade fridges and ovens, her husband the heir to a political dynasty? What Natalie’s followers—all 8 million of them—don’t know won’t hurt them. And The Angry Women? The privileged, Ivy League, coastal elite haters who call her an antifeminist iconoclast? They’re sick with jealousy. Because Natalie isn’t simply living the good life, she’s living the ideal—and just so happens to be building an empire from it.
Until one morning she wakes up in a life that isn’t hers. Her home, her husband, her children—they’re all familiar, but something’s off. Her kitchen is warmed by a sputtering fire rather than electricity, her children are dirty and strange, and her soft-handed husband is suddenly a competent farmer. Just yesterday Natalie was curating photos of homemade jam for her Instagram, and now she’s expected to haul firewood and handwash clothes until her fingers bleed. Has she become the unwitting star of a ruthless reality show? Could it really be time travel? Is she being tested by God? By Satan? When Natalie suffers a brutal injury in the woods, she realizes two things: This is not her beautiful life, and she must escape by any means possible."
There is so much going on here. Natalie is truly awful, but you have to love the way she thinks.
This is a brilliant look at the culture of Trad Wives, influencers, internet rabbit holes and how what we see might not be the whole truth.
Utterly brilliant.
5) The Three Lives of Cate Kay by Kate Fagan - Audio - 4 stars
I enjoyed this queer novel about friendship, fate and how we reinvent ourselves.
The blurb on Amazon reads, "Cate Kay knows how to craft a story. As the creator of a bestselling book trilogy that struck box office gold as a film series, she's one of the most successful authors of her generation. The thing is, Cate Kay doesn't really exist. She's never attended author events or granted any interviews. Her real identity had been a closely guarded secret, until now. As a young adult, she and her best friend Amanda fantasized escaping their difficult homes and moving to California to become movie stars. But the day before their grand adventure, a tragedy shattered their dreams and Cate has been on the run ever since, taking on different names and charting a new future. But after a shocking revelation, Cate understands that returning home is the only way she'll be a whole person again."
File this one under easy reading. Sure, I'm not certain all of the story was believable, but it was a good read after the heavy-duty nature of Yesteryear.
6) Rivals by Jilly Cooper - Kindle - 3.5 Stars
Dated, dreadful and a bloody good romp. I'm watching the series on Disney, thought I'd read the book. I will say that the television series is brilliant, but the source material is good fun. It would never win a Booker Prize, but it's great fun.
7) Flashlight by Susan Choi - Audio - 5 Stars
I went to see Susan Choi speak at the Melbourne Writer's Festival a few weeks ago and the person interviewing her was extolling her praises. I picked this up and have no regrets. It's amazing.
The blurb on the Readings website describes this as "The astonishing story of one family swept up in the tides of the twentieth century, ranging from Japan to the USA to the North Korean regime.
One evening, ten-year-old Louisa and her father take a walk out on the breakwater. They are spending the summer in a coastal Japanese town while her father Serk, a Korean emigre, completes an academic secondment from his American university. When Louisa wakes hours later, she has washed up on the beach and her father is missing, probably drowned.
The disappearance of Louisa's father shatters their small family unit. As Louisa and her American mother Anne return to the US, this traumatic event reverberates across time and space, and the mystery of what really happened to Serk slowly unravels."
As family dramas go, this is up there with Pashinko, Hello Beautiful and Middlesex. Glorious writing and an amazing, heart-wrenching story. I want to read more.
8) The Course of Love by Alain de Botton - Audio - 4 stars
I've read this before, but picking it up again, and listening to Julian Rhind-Tutt read this was a joy. I've loved the writing of Alain de Botton for years as he makes philosophy accessible and fun.
This book looks at how we as humans love, from those first teenage stirrings through to grown up life.
