Hot Sunday

It's hot, 39 degrees. So, we need air conditioning, to combat the heat. We burn more power to run the air conditioner, and the planet’s temperatures get hotter. So, we need more air conditioning... vicious cycle.

We took the dogs for a walk early, the sun was hot at 9am.

I shopped early, down the shops at 10am.

Buddy, Brun and I sat out the front of Woolies. I sat on the concrete and looked at my phone. Three girls walked up with two greyhounds, they nonchalantly tied the greyhounds to the bollard without acknowledging the bulldogs, or me. I got the impression they were too cool for the three of us, and their greyhounds were more of a fashion statement than dog ownership. They tried to avoid looking down their noses at us, but they failed.

Then an older lady came out of Woolies and told us, kind of announced, how her dog died 3 weeks ago and how much she missed it. The three girls had to react to her as she drew them in despite themselves. The girls opened and closed their mouths and look from one to the other. 

The older lady seemed sweet. 

“It must be very hard,” I said.

She smiled back at me. 

Sam came out the door and took us away from all of them.

 

We washed the dogs. An armful of towels and upstairs. Buddy has always been happy to climb the stairs and walk in under the water on his own. Brun isn’t quite so please about the whole thing. I wash Brun first, so then Sam can dry him and I can wash Buddy who is not going to fight me under the water.

 

I repotted that pesky agave that has needed repotting for, well, forever. It was David's, another thing he jettisoned as he headed north. I was sweating by the time I'd finished.

Then, what else was there to do when it was hot outside? Watch a Katherine Hepburn movie, Guess Who's Coming For Dinner. She had such loveliness about her. Shocking to think the same problems still exist today, proven by what's gone on in the White House recently. 

Racism is such an ugly disease. The notion that some people are less than you. Who first thought? Why would you think? WTF? For whatever reason it makes no logical sense. No sense at all.

It is going to be hotter tomorrow. I shiver with anticipation.

First World Problems

My coffee machine so often makes me push the start button twice when I want a cup of coffee. It doesn't always work when I press it the first time, for reasons that are a mystery to me. It is annoying when I am doing other things, as well, and I push it and go to walk away and I have to back track and press it again.

I can see if I was a billionaire how I'd get rid of it and get one that doesn't make me press the button twice... despite how we all like to tut tut at the wealthy excesses.

Admit it, with untold wealth, you'd do the same thing too.

Saved the Best (you know I mean worst, now don't you?) To Last

I have befriended all my cousins on Facebook recently. And finally, my last cousin who lives in America has befriended me. And she turns out to be bible-thumping, Trump-loving conservative. She's the deaf and blind one, so I can see why she would thank god for all her fucking blessings

She was always pig headed and stubborn when we were kids. (She was only deaf back then, she went blind as an adult, legally blind, not complete loss of eye sight. She can still use an iPhone to communicate)

She always had a slight sense of entitlement, because her devoutly catholic mother spent so much time trying to make it up to her, whisking her off to faith healer’s ad infintum, at the expense of my other cousins, who never resented it, ever. 

Yeah, maybe I would have a chip on my shoulder if I was deaf. Maybe? Sure, it is easy for me to criticise…

… but a conservative lovin’ Trumpian. What was it they used to call them, deaf and dumb. Hello. (Oh, I know, I’m going to hell for that comment… if there was a hell) But saying Trump was the only honest, caring President America has had in recent history. And that Biden stole the election and is a wicked man. Seriously? That is just stupidity.

The worst aspect is, not her stupidity, or gullibility, but the fact she is bringing all her deluded Jesus freak friend’s comments to my feed. I sense an unfollowing coming up.

 Is it great again yet? Is it?

I Hate People

David calls to discuss Pieces of a Woman, which he recommended and which I liked, but about which I wouldn't rave. I thought it portrayed the situation well, it was a good story.

It turns out that puppies are just for Xmas. David has put his four month old puppy into care while he tries to re-home her because he can't just can’t cope with her any longer. All the things people generally find charming about dogs, David finds annoying. David has been spending some time with her in the facility.

"You are the only person who understands..."

"Understands what?"

"When I say I hate people." (Remember, David is quite a famous new age guru)

"Oh yes," I say. "They are a dreadful lot."

"Well, now I hate the animal kingdom too," he says. "Have I told you that before?"

"No, that's new," I say. "Is that guilt speaking?"

"Guilt?"

"For making [insert dog's name] an orphan." [truthfully, I can't spell his dog's name, it is one of those new age names with a silent p and a symbol. Eplon_*, or something.]

"It can't be helped."

"Dogs are forever..."

"Yes, yes, so you keep telling me," he says. "I'll find her a lovely new home and she'll have a great life."

"You hope."

"She will."

"Well, look on the bright side, the same global warming that is going to take out the human race, will probably finish off the animal kingdom as well."

“You always make me feel better.”

“All a part of the service.”

"Did I tell you, you are the only one who makes me laugh?"

"Constantly."

We both laugh.

Tim All Wet and Soapy

I have sign in issues, again, this morning. I message Tim, the IT guy. He takes a while to respond.

"Sorry, I was in the shower," he finally texts.

Oh, now, Tim, I think. If you don't want me to imagine you naked, (and wet, and slippery) don't encourage me to do so, I think.

Tim has a big beefy butt and thick thighs, his jeans always hug him well, and I can well imagine him all wet and soapy and naked in the shower. I'm sure he'd have a big sausage on him.

"No problem," I text back.

Back on the Exercise Horse

The sun is shining down gloriously, I'm going for a walk in the park for an hour. I haven't been exercising for the entire holidays, time off, got to get back into it.

There is a used syringe lying on the edge of the path. Whenever I see a syringe lying on the ground the tips of my fingers tingle, like I can feel the needle piercing my skin. And then the tingle rapidly goes up both my arms, like someone walking over my grave.

Is that weird? I guess it is.

Then I get chills up my spine. You know that body zzzzz, up from my toes and up my back. When I do a Taylor Swift and shake it off. Like a paedophile on my leg when I was 13. 

"Shake it off. Shake it off. Shake it off."

Some Of My Favourite Things

Things I like. Movies. I have the best damn movie collection in the world. Of course, the world is subjectively my world. I continue to add to it in, what maybe be called, an addictive way. That's certainly what Sam calls it.

Plants. I have so many house plants now that I contemplate buying a bigger house on a regular basis so I can acquire more. Of course, living in a terrace house doesn't help.

Dogs. I have two of the cutest bulldogs in the world. Every day that we take them walking someone stops us to tell us how beautiful Buddy and Brun are. The most common question I get is, "Are they brothers?" People are always amazed when I tell them Buddy and Brun are 8 years a part in age.

Home. I am a real home body now a days. I'm lucky that I have a good one in which to hide away from the world, er, um, live life.

Sam. I've had boyfriends before who have said "forever' as they gaze into my eyes, and they have long since departed. And while, I don't believe in forever any longer, Sam is the one who will probably have the best shot at it.

The things I like, not necessarily in that order, you understand.

Early mornings, the long shadows in the afternoon.

Coffee.

Laughter. I think stand up comedy to be specific.

Cars, or course. That's been life long. Since I use to stand on the back seat of my mother's car and utter those words, "Same model, different colour." Ah, the things you lose with the passage of time, you see, it was really my mother who used to repeat that line back to me. No one else. And she's now dead. Nobody else knows that, and a tiny piece of me is lost.

Champions come and champions go, and when they are gone, we have to be our own champion.

Into The City Shopping

9.30am. It started to rain. It was a wintry morning, for summer. I’m not complaining, you understand, I like the melancholy of the rain. I like a cool summer. Those days over 35, I can live without them.

I had just finished uploading my new Bette Davis movies to my movie collection and, I guess, I was itching to do some more. Sam says I am addicted to DVDs, movies for my movie collection, but I suspect I am addicted to the uploading process. I’m sure it is a Virgo thing, something along the lines of getting one’s collection in order. Or something like that? Ha ha. But, I admit, it is nice to see the collection grow with all my favourite movies.

I wonder if I can be cheeky enough to go into the city to buy more DVDs to upload? Have I explained? I now have a massive hard drive which attaches to my TV and with the appropriate app it works like Netflix, or any of the other streaming services, except it is my own movie channel. I flick over to it like I do to Netflix, or Amazon. It has completely renewed my interest in my movie collection.

There is the classic DVD shop in the city, where I can get the 10 DVDs for $20. I got two seasons of True Blood, which gives me the first 3 seasons, I already has season 2. I am hoping I can get further seasons, so we can start watching it again from the beginning. I reckon the time is right now. We need all 7 seasons before we start, otherwise the binge may go unfulfilled. Sam isn’t so keen, but he’ll come around, it’s a hot show. Besides, I don’t think I ever watched the final seasons of True Blood in the end.

So, bravely I announced what I was going to do.

Sam has something to say about it. “You are addicted to DVDS?”

“Maybe a little.” I smiled. “I’m sure it is just a phase.” I have been hitting it hard lately, but, you know, that just means I’m dedicated.

“Surely, that has to be admired,” I suggest.

Sam rolls his eyes. He tells me it is raining and I am being ridiculous. He has more to say when I say I’ll catch a tram. “Oh yes, spend even more money!” He’s funny.

Midmorning, I leave for the city. I leave with a big umbrella. The over sized umbrella that often won’t fit passed a power pole on the norrow streets of Fitzroy. Pretty soon I have wet shoes. The water is flying up in an arch in front of me from each shoe with each step that I take. I walk in with my umbrella over my head as the rain is falling straight down. It is kind of nice, except for the wet shoes, of course. I stop in front of the Princess Theatre and write this all down for my journal before I forget. The rain falls. Don’t you think falling rain in the city is kind of romantic.

Unfortunately, there were no more True Blood DVDs, and I struggle to find 10 DVDs that I want. I contemplate 4 for $10, but you know me, I manage the 20.

Did I just want more stuff to upload, now that I am done with everything I had? He, he. Maybe? Shrug. I’ll find a 12 step program, or something without god in it, at some future date. Yes, some godless self help program for the… do you think the Christians need a 12 step program to get over their god addiction? But, I digress…

Shrug, Maybe.

11.30am. I’m heading home again. The rain starts to fall lightly on my head. The wind blows.

Home at 11.47am.

I put A Catered Affair on, I’ve just got it. A Bette Davis movie she made in the mid 1950s, when she wasn't getting many roles. I like it.

Put my feet up. It's hard, you know, shopping. No wonder I don't like it, for the most part.

1pm. We ate beef bulgogi for lunch. Sam handed me the plate as the movie played.

Oh my! Earnest Bognine bought a tear to my eye, unexpectedly, he and Bette have had what is a loveless marriage all through the film, and at the end he, essentially, tells her he loves her.

“We’ve been married a long time,” says Tom.

“Too long?” asks Agnes. Hoping for him to disagree.

“To know someone... it’s like a day,” says Tom.

(I guess you had to be there)

I watched Debbie Reynolds interviews on YouTube. She played the daughter. Busy day.

It rained some more.

Out and About Early… Because We Can

6.30am. I am up. It was freezing in the bedroom this morning with the balcony doors open. What happened to summer, you may ask? I close them, but Sam tells me to open them again.

Brun comes downstairs with me,

7.30am. Sam was up. He fed the dogs

What to have for breakfast? I say I am going to make porridge. You see Sam isn’t really a breakfast eater, and I am. So, I have to get to it and make something, and porridge is the thing. Sam won’t eat muesli, he says it is sad food.

So, I said, I was going to cook porridge for breakfast. Sam said he’d go to Coles to see what he could find for breakfast instead of me cooking oats. (Anything but oats, in his head) So, I said, “Get oranges and bananas.” So, I have something to snack on, prompted by my seemingly blood sugar plunge yesterday, which leaves me feeling drained. So, Sam said we needed to go to The Hive to buy fresh fruit cheaply, so that’s what we did.

It’s nice, out and about early. We’re at The Hive shopping by 8.30am. The sun was shining. It was like Europe, up early at the shops looking for food. Maybe it was the coffee smell in the air?

We went to Woolies, then to the Saigon Village for fruit. We went to the Asian bakery and bought fatty bread treats for breakfast.

I love this life, not so much only working 3 days per week, Mon to Wed, although I’d recommend it, nobody should work more than that, but working from home. You see, I could do this any morning when I work from home. I never want to go back to the office, right at the present time when workers are being ask to return to the office.

Fortunately, I have a boss who says returning to the office is up to us, at least for the immediate future. We’ve all been so successful working from home, he isn’t going to push any of us to come back into the office, at least for the time being.

 This made me laugh - the gift of love from Jesus is garbage

One of my favourite car YouTubers stopping for um, er, petrol. 

The Kum & Go. It's good going with all the guys. 😀

First Day Back

First day signing back into work, dare I say that the Hollidays went really fast?

Oh, it's a bit depressing, back into all of this again. I was enjoying myself so much on a break.

I'm playing Nancy Wilson - that's the jazz singer and not the other one - loud so it fills my world with her glorious voice and it all doesn't seem so futile somehow.

I don't want to go back to the office, can you tell?

Bette Davis Movies

I ordered 10 Bette Davis DVDs from eBay. I've been collecting her movies for a long time, ever since I was young and watched Whatever Happened to Baby Jane with all my cousins gathered around the TV at our house one Sunday night.

Well, what else are you going to do on the last day of Xmas holidays, I ask you?

I watched Deception, it has one of the greatest apartments ever in a movie.

Saving The Human Race?

In the afternoon, we went to Clifton Hill to buy Sam a game. You know, handheld, gamer, whatever they are called from the internet. Oh, I've tried to be interested but they are just not my thing. They just don't seem that interesting.

We stopped at the ATM to get money, on the way. I sat in the car in the side street street facing Smith Street with the motor running while Sam made a withdrawal, a couple of metres away. He was only going to be a minute, so I didn't think anything of it.

A woman on a bike rode passed me from behind, giving me a look as she rode by. I didn’t really know why? She disappeared right into Smith Street. I looked out my driver's side window to see if I was too far out from the gutter, not really sure why they would bother her, but it was the only thing I could think of. Well, you know bike riders today, always angry about something.

Then she reappeared again, crossing the road in front of me, calling out to me, “Turn your engine off,” with a voice that could shatter glass it was so awful. It was like one continuous whine.

I raised my hands in the air and mouthed Why?

She repeated, “Turn your engine off,” (complete with key turning hand gestures) in her (what sounded like a Queensland voice) voice, as she disappeared out of sight.

Oh, she was worried about the planet, how noble. (Of course, we all should be) Or, was she worried about the human race? There is a difference, I think.

You know, there are 1 and 2 year olds in Africa who are going blind who could have a simple operation to save them from a life of blindness and poverty, but more than likely they won't get that simple operation. 

I read about a couple who spent 10 million dollars on a Toorak house recently, which they are going to demolish and rebuild.

At any given point half the world is starving, and half the world is eating itself to death. And you know what makes that fact worse, the half who are eating themselves to death throw away 30% of their fresh food because it doesn't look nice enough to put in the shops for sale.

790 million people do not have access to safe water.

150, 000 people are homeless in the world. 1.6 billion people have inadequate shelter.

Wealthy countries are refusing refugees shelter.

There are endless wars and endless hate.

What is it, the 50 wealthiest people have more wealth than the bottom 50% of the world's population. (or something like that)

And then I think about turning my engine off and saving the human race...

And, you know, she was right, of course, I should have turned off my engine for planet earth's sake, even if I was only waiting for not much more than one minute. But, was she worried about the planet, or was she worried about the human race?

Life Seeping Back

 

I continue to be fascinated by this plant that I rescued from the pile of junk the girls next door left on the footpath outside their house when they left for sunnier climes. When I picked it up, I really thought it was probably dead. It was brown and there didn't seem like there was much hope. (there is a photo I posted earlier)

Still, I like plants better than I like people, ha ha, ho ho, that is almost true, so I repotted it into a new pot, not the least because it was in a brightly coloured plastic pot, and gave it proper succulent soil and most importantly, even if it sounds so simple, I gave it some water.

I thought that, perhaps, it might grow new growth from the middle, if I was really lucky and that the rest of it would die off and fall away and maybe, just maybe, given some time it might grow into something nice again.

Well, every day, I have watched with fascination, the brown, do you call them leaves, arms, tentacles, whatever, turn more and more green. I have watched life seep back into it.

Yeah, sure, there are a few sections that aren't coming back, but mostly it has come back to life.

 Oh no! The deplorables escaped their basket

You've Got To Laugh

I opened a bottle of red wine, pouring myself a glass and leaving the rest of the bottle on the kitchen bench.

I'm not one for wine glasses, I always use a tumbler, amongst my friends that is well known.

My friend Dante dropped in. I walked into the lounge room, Dante went into the kitchen to put his stuff on the kitchen bench.

"What's the wine like?" he asked. "Do you mind if I give it a try?"

"No, go for it."

The next thing Dante was spitting into the kitchen sink, washing cold water into his mouth washing it out. Gagging and spitting. Spitting and gagging.

Unbeknownst to me, I'd put the bottle of wine down on the kitchen bench next to a tumbler of watered down Betadine with which Sam had been bathing one of the dog's paws.

It looked like my glass of red wine, I guess.

Today, I Was Going To Turn Over A New Leaf

Today was going to be the day that I wasn't going to lie on the couch, yet again, and watch YouTube with my laptop on my stomach, but from the minute that I got up the rain was falling and the temperature was well, it says 16 degrees, but it feels way colder than that, let me tell you. 

Even Brun, who is not one for getting his paws wet at the best of times admittedly, didn't go all the way to the back of the yard like he normally does ever morning, instead choosing the nearest pot plant and then he turned straight around and came back inside.

So, what am I supposed to do, when the weather is against my best intensions?

I ask you.

The universe is working against me. (Sad Face) I say this as Brun climbs up on the couch next to me and rests his fat face on my thigh. He's with me, but I already knew that.

The girls next door bought in 8 bottles of red wine. "Just thought you might like this. We can't take them with us."

"Oh sure, why not. Thanks." I wasn't entirely sure why they couldn't take it with them?

They set off for Queensland not long after so that got us off the couch for a minute, as we waved good bye sheltering under the hibiscus tree from the rain. Nice day for a drive, I thought.

Once their cars disappeared out of sight it was back to the couch. And then we wonder why the holidays go so fast? What had happened to the days? What did we do? Still, sometimes it is nice to do nothing, and then to rest once you are done.

And, it is still raining.

Let's crack open a bottle of that wine.

The girls next door are moving out. The, shall we say, plain one with the voice that shreds ear drums, and the quiet standoffish one who never seems to say a word until she's had a few bevies in the back yard... late in a Saturday night, then she has an awful lot to say.

I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong, they were noisy like once a week, so that's okay, and the rest of the week nothing, it could have been a lot worse, might be a lot worse.

They are heading to Queensland, which is where the chick with the terrible voice will fit right in, in a state full of terrible accents. I mean, really...

They have put all their stuff out the front, as people are want to do these days, and the vultures descended in record time and it all disappeared quickly, like seagulls on a discarded wrapper of hot chips on a picnic table by the beach.

Sam came in with their huge laundry bag full of DVDs, about which I was very happy, adding to one of my favourite things in the world, my movie collection.

I got a succulent they put out, adding to my other favourite things, my pot plants. It was in a bright yellow plastic pot and is arguably dead. I repotted it into a terracotta pot with new succulent soil and maybe it will come back, it will be touch and go, but they are pretty tough, the succulents... I can't speak for the girls. There should be a list onto which people go who kill plants, and if you are on the list for killing a succulent, you should be banned for life from owning any further house plants. (You think I'm kidding)

I have, we have, been lying around in the lounge room on our couches on our screens since Xmas Eve. 

It's true. 

Buddy became lame Xmas Eve, for no apparent reason, so we had to wait for him to get better, and that set the tone for the rest of our holidays, I guess.

Finally, Sam said I should get up and do something, so I got up and made tea and got fruit cake, and headed back to my couch. 

There might have been a ta-da! Sam wasn't amused.

Scotty from Marketing is an Arsehole

Everyone hates you mate

Xmas Lunch

 Sam and I cooked Xmas lunch as the Fletcher Xmas day, for my sister and brother inlaw. My brother didn't come down from Brisbane. Mum and dad are dead, so that is the best the Fletchers can manage now a days. So different to times passed, time passes, things change. All those huge family Xmas' with all my cousins seem but a distant memory.

My sister had been the one to suggest today. She came up with a few options, we could join her inlaws on Xmas day at her place, which I wasn't so keen. Other that that, she gave the impression she didn't want to do it all again, herself, and that, perhaps, I should.

Seriously?

I said sure, not really being at all sure when I said it. But, you know, just wing it, how badly could it go wrong? She did suggest we could go out to a restaurant, but I was willing to give it a go. I mean, I have before, but those times have been few and far between.

Why not, I thought.

Sam cooked porkbelly with a plum sauce and lamb stuffed with cranberries with roast vegetables. I made a plum pudding semifreddo and a trifle for desert.

It all turned out well.

The bulldogs bounced around, always happy with visitors.

I was going to make Xmas cookies alternately icing them with red and white icing, but I didn't. Maybe next year.

5.45am

 

5.45am. There is something very satisfying about getting up at 5 something am, and standing on my balcony looking at the sun rise. It is quiet and peaceful as the new day comes into being.

And look at those colours, pink and grey. We can't do better than nature, can we, it is just a shame we don't look after it. Nature.

The Holy Dribble

You know, for all the delusionists (And the spacecadete'ry who attempt to ban everything they don't deem appropriate) who are apoplectic with the fairytale spirit at this time of year.

Goode olde luck to the lot of yous

'cause you know the book on which all this twaddle is based has been translated so many times, with so many agendas, that who knows what it even originally said.

As the rest of us scratch our heads at the nonsense of it all, but get a kick out of the orgiastic buying festival that has delivered us the best of capitalism.

 

We should get rid of Xmas, it has none of the original meaning to the vast majority of people - was the original meaning invented by Coke a Cola? It is now an orgiastic present buying, and food eating extravaganza, let's face it.

To make it more relevant to the real world, we should move it to new year. We could have a public holiday on New Years Eve, give presents New Years Day and make Boxing Day January 2nd. 

End the year with the new year, come on, it makes far more sense to the modern world.

A new year, now that is something to celebrate.

Xmas, really, is just a habit we forgot to break, let's face it.

I Wish

I wish I felt like I was good at something? Or, is that something we all feel? Is that universal? Or is that just my lack of confidence?

You know, really good at something? Something at which to be expert. I guess it would need to give joy too? That is the assumption though, now isn't it, that if we were good at something, joy would naturally follow?

Joy. That's what we all want.

Happiness.

We Lost, Let's Go Home, Donald

Oh my god! It is the two of them, perfectly

 

Too Hot To Write

It's too hot today to write. It's 34 which isn't so hot in itself, but it is the first 34 degrees for the summer. So, it's tiring. I'm sweating. I can't think.

I've got a sweaty neck. I hate having a sweaty neck. It's probably bad posture, isn't it always bad posture?

I rode my bike today, twice. It was good weather for bike riding. T-shirt, shorts, the momentum of the bike through the air keeps you cool. Kind of keeps you cool. It is liberating though, just your own power to get you places.

I've got two cars which I never drive. Why the hell do I have two cars? I guess, if I don't drive them, it doesn't matter. I decided to sell one of them, just when the whole lock down thing happened, and then nobody could come and look at it. It has been such a long time since I have sold a car, you know, like advertised it. I'm not sure if I remember  how to do it?

I rode my bike to the shops. I took a recycle bag, I flung it over my shoulder. Well, I'm not sure if flung is the right term, I pushed the handle up my arm to my shoulder. What do you call that? I must go and have a basket put on the back of my bike, on the back of my mountain bike. I have a racer I use for exercise, and an old mountain bike I use to go to the shops. Someone gave it to me, a cute French boy who was going back... um... er leaving Melbourne. You can get those black baskets now a days, and if I had one like that I could do all my shopping on my bike. The burning of fossil fuels not required.

I should do my back exercises. I've had a sore back, and weird buzzing feet. I've been going to the Osteo and he thinks it could all be a pinched nerve in my lower back and he gave me back exercises to do, which, of course, I haven't done. Stupid to pay him all that money, I guess, and then not do the exercises. But that's just human nature, I guess. Especially stupid, since we know miracles are a figment of an over active imagination. 

It's late, the doors and windows are open and there is a bit of a breeze. The fan helps, of course. The fan could be the entire breeze? Maybe?

Sam is playing his Oculus Quest, he's got a new one, just got it. It is making exploding noises, he's cursing at, um, I don't know who? 

"Ah, stupid mice! There! That is what I want you to do!" 

I look at him quite unaware of me looking at him, I gaze at him for a time, kind of secretly, but not really. Just me and him. I like it being just me and him. I like gazing at him unaware.

The fan is whining in the corner. The air is thick. The night is still. The bulldogs are scattered across the floor like dead ducks, er, dogs.

It must be time for bed. I might need a shower before I go to bed, and I am strictly a shower in the morning kind of boy.

I did my back exercises.

What Are Sundays For?

We all got in the shower in the morning. It makes no difference to Buddy, Brun is less keen. Then we walked to the park in the glorious morning sun to dry off. The sky was blue, the grass was green. The trees tall, a breeze blew gently through them.

I lay on the couch in the afternoon and watched YouTube and fell asleep with my laptop resting on my stomach. It was that kind of day, sunny and warm. The air was fresh and light, uplifting like a warm eddy, and the world felt like a wonderful place.

Sam moved my laptop from my stomach and lay on the floor next to me with Buddy and Brun and fell asleep. It's what Sunday afternoons are for, after all.

We may have all snored, we are all snorers.

We woke up for afternoon tea when we drank tea and ate shortbread biscuits.

And that was the day. Glorious.

I think the composition of this image is almost perfect

Walking the bulldogs in the park in the morning, during these last few days of gorgeous weather. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the jacaranda with a sensational display of purple.

 

"It makes sense," says Sam. "We're not gamers after all."

It makes you wonder if all the bad press about the NBN is deliberate to get people to sign up to more expensive plans. You know, if I was one of those people who go in for conspiracy theories.

Of course, the problem with conservative governments is that they are so dishonest and so duplicitous it makes all of this kind of thinking plausible.

Coffee Anyone?

I push the button on the coffee machine and it whirs into life.

"Christian Fletcher," comes Sam's voice from the other room.

Sure, it is my third cup and it isn't yet 9.30am.

"So, is that a no from you?"

"Slow down."

"Are you saying you don't want one."

"Seriously, you are drinking too much coffee."

"Do you want one?"

"Yes."

And there it is.

It always makes me laugh. Sam just about always says yes, no matter what he has said before.

The worlds greatest invention, coffee. Why would one deny oneself, I ask you?

That and the mute button, the two single greatest achievements of mankind. Oh yes, there are some pretty amazing medical achievements, blah, blah, blah, but get back to me when I need a new liver, or a course of chemo and we’ll discuss it then.

My single nicest dream, is to be drinking coffee out in public and being able to use the mute button on the annoying people. Oh, you know the types, the ones who bring their sticky finger kids along, or those who occupy a table alone but insist on talking on their mobile phone so all can hear, the ones who talk too loud in the group in that look-at-me-look-at-me kind of way, the inane laughers, the screamers. You know the types who are definitely seen and heard.

I was once in a coffee shop drinking a lovely morning coffee and a woman had a baby that wouldn’t stop crying, finally when our eyes met, I spoke up, “Couldn’t you take that some place else?”

Well, she didn’t half lose her shit as she gathered her belongings and vacated the establishment.

“You don’t know what it’s like…”

I’ve got a fairly good understanding over the last half an hour, I thought.

“You are terrible!”

And yet I am not the one destroying everyone’s morning.

“How dare you.”

I am pretty much saying the same thing to you.

Now if I’d had a mute button on that occasion. Heaven.

After she had slammed the café door on her way out, the silence was golden. And we were all left to contemplate life with coffee in hand sans her noisy little sprog.

Chuckle

 

I spat my coffee when I first saw this

John Lennon

I once knew a guy, Alistair, whose hero was John Lennon. 

When John Lennon was killed, from all accounts, Alistair had a nervous breakdown, he didn’t cope with his hero being shot and killed.  Imagine that? I guess Alistair wouldn't have been the first, fans being what fans are? Apparently, three Beatles fans killed themselves at the news of Lennon's death.

Apparently, Alistair ended up having a very long recovery from his breakdown.

I haven't seen Alistair for years, he was a nice guy.

But, whenever, I hear that it is the anniversary of John Lennon's death, I still think of Alistair and wonder how he is?

So that is forty years for… I googled what happened on 8^th December to get the name of the guy who shot John Lennon’s name, and I got the following,

1863 Abraham Lincoln issues his Amnesty Proclamation and plan for Reconstruction of the South

1941 US and Britain declare war on Japan, US enters World War II

1941 US President Franklin D. Roosevelt delivers "Day of Infamy" speech to US Congress a day after the bombing of Pearl Harbour

1965 Pope Paul VI signs 2nd Vatican council

1966 US and USSR sign treaty to prohibit nuclear weapons in outer space

2004 Cuzco Declaration is signed in Cuzco, Peru, establishing the Union of South American Nations

War and religion, seriously, the two things that have caused the most destruction in the world. 

John Lennon didn’t even get a mention. Is that irony? One of the greatest peace advocates is not mentioned in favour of war and war-causing religion?

But, I did find out it is Jim Morrison’s, Sinead O'Connor’s and Niki Minaj’s birthdays.

Anyway, back to Mark David Chapman, it means he has been in jail for 40 years. Forty years, that is rather a long time for murder. Now, I am no advocate for Mark David Chapman, or murderers in general, but usually, well, in Australia, murder is 25 years. Of course, since the conservatives have been winning elections lately, with their ideology bent towards law and order, I guess we can expect a lot more of “Life Means Life.”

I guess it depends on what you want your jail system to do? Most conservatives want it to be punitive, lock them up, throw away the key. Build more jails, punish, punish, punish. And, I think as a society, we are skewing away from rehabilitation and towards punishment more and more, since law and order has become a political tool to win elections. 

From all accounts at 87 years of age Yoko Ono’s health is beginning to fail and she is now frail and apparently suffering from some undisclosed disease. From what I have read, she has been the driving force of keeping Mark David Chapman in jail.

Apparently, the singer James Taylor ran into Mark David Chapman a few hours before he shot John Lennon four times at close range on the streets of New York and Mark David Chapman was talking like a crazy person. So, is our failure to deal with mental health issues as a society the real reason John Lennon was shot and killed?

Oh, bleeding heart, the conservatives would whine in unison, no doubt.

Gay Movies on Prime

Last night, Sam, being the guardian of the remote control – of course, I can’t be trusted with it, as I would point it at the world and press furiously – as cliched as that sounds, declared there was nothing on the TV, so we watched gay movies on Amazon Prime, which has a lot of gay movies. I chose.

After a few false starts, you know where the writing was bad and the acting was atrocious, the stories inane, where the main character has a fat fag hag friend, or the lisping twink is wholly unattractive, we managed to pick a couple of movies.

I like gay movies with real story lines, not just ghetto nonsense. That’s not to say that I don’t mind nonsense occasionally, but generally they have to be funny, and poke fun at gay life. You know, gays guys can be just awful sometimes, but only I’m allowed to say that, gay men are allowed to say that, nobody else is allowed, and if they send that up, well and good. But mostly I like real story lines with real people and definitely not always dying at the end, one of my biggest problems with Brokeback Mountain.

We watched Taekwondo, about a group of pretty hot straight boys spending the weekend at one of the guy’s country houses. The host invites his prospective gay love interest with whom he does taekwondo. Not that anyone knows he is gay, although by the end of the film some definitely suspect. 

The second movie we watched was Uncle Frank, set in 1973, about a family from South Carolina. The eldest son unbeknownst to the rest of the family is gay and lives in New York with his boyfriend of ten years. He goes back to South Carolina for Xmas and family gatherings, but always alone, and always a bit of the odd man out. Then his niece comes to study at the university in New York at which he is a professor. Not long after, his bigoted father dies and they make a road trip home for the funeral, where everything is revealed.

Recently, we’ve also watch 4Moons, which I liked, the boys were adorable.

Clapham Junction was full on.

The Lost Coast was interesting.

And we watched Vicious, with Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi. I've watched it before and didn't like it, but this time I found it funny.

What happened to Dorothy Kilgallen? That's Peggy Lee, of course

Dorothy Kilgallen said To Peggy Lee on What's My Line, Feb 1960, that she couldn't stop listening to Peggy Lee's latest album, Latin ala Lee!

So, 60 years later I play the album from my laptop on iTunes wirelessly to my HomePod speakers in the inner suburbs of Melbourne, just to hear what is was that Dorothy Kilgallen couldn’t stop listening to.

I wonder what Dorothy played it on in her townhouse in Manhattan at the very beginning of the 1960s?

60 years later, it still sounds current. I kind of like it, despite never being a Peggy Lee fan.

Music crosses space and time, now doesn't it. Here it is 60 years later and nearly 20 years after Peggy Lee died at the age of 81.

And interestingly enough, the theme song to Sex in the City is on this album.

 

The canna lilies are in bloom again...

Cannas in the park when I went for my daily walk. I think I went for a walk every day this week, better than the preceding weeks, where I have slacked off.

I haven't dropped below 80 kilos, I don't know why? My weight loss seems to have stalled at 80 kilos, shrug? Still, exercise can never be a bad thing, I guess? An hour most days, that is what I am aiming for, and what I achieve most weeks.

Part Angel, Part Lavender

 

Street Art, Abbotsford. This made me think of Peter Pan, not blond though. A cute little dark-haired Puk. Look at those eyes. Imagine the leather shorts.

I Just Need A Black Motor Bike And Full Leathers To Go With This

 

Street Art, Fitzroy. I do contribute to it a little, as this photo had a number of windows, which I photoshopped out of the image. I’m a bit of an artist on the quiet.

Danell Leyva olympic gymnast... just saying. Look at those eyes