Category: Review

Going home

Home has a great many different meanings, for me, and, I guess, a great many others.

Over a lifetime we have a lot of different homes, we tend not to stay in one place all our lives.

I know, for me, my first home was in Carrum, when I was very young, and I don’t remember much of it. My second home was Mordialloc, but, again, I don’t remember much of it either.

My next home was Dandenong, in not one house, but two, the first I spent my grade school years, the second, my secondary school years, and in between a short period in a country town called Berrigan.

Then, after getting married, I left that house where my parents continued to live for quite a few years, as we bounced around, from Burnley to North Dandenong, having been drawn back to where I used to live, then back home to my parents for a short period, and North Dandenong again.

It’s curious how we return to certain places to live, rather than consider another suburb say North or West.

Equally curious about how I tend to call going home, when traveling in Australia, not, as you would think, our home in Queensland, but where we used to live in Victoria. I guess that is because it’s my spiritual home.

People often ask if we would return to Victoria, and the answer, of course, is no. We might have most of our in-law families there, but it is not enough of a pull to return. We are content just to come back once or twice a year.

For us, Melbourne had become too large a city, with all the problems that go with it. Brisbane has and will be for the rest of my lifetime, have much fewer traffic problems and the feel of being less urbanized. One thing I don’t miss about being in Melbourne is the traffic. It is horrendous, any time of the day and night.

But what would be good in Brisbane is the markets like those at Queen Victoria and South Melbourne. We have nothing like it.

And something else, rather more frivolous, Brisbane doesn’t have the same fish and chips, donuts, or spring rolls and dim sims. Every time we come down, those are the first things we get, even if we have to go out of our way.

But if someone was to ask, off the cuff, where my home is, it always comes out as Melbourne, and I have no idea why.  When they ask where I live, which is supposedly the same, I tell them Brisbane.  I guess it has a lot to do with where you grow up, though I’m still trying to figure it out.

At least it’s easy when I’m overseas.  When they ask, the answer is, simply, Australia.

In a word: Pause

Yes, when you are going at it like a bat out of hell, it might be an idea to take a pause and regroup.

That being a pause as an interruption to an activity.

In music, it’s a mark over a note.

Perhaps it’s a good idea to pause recording a TV show while the ads are on.  Networks don’t like it, but it makes the show make more sense without the distractions of advertisements, sometimes quite inane, or annoying.

What I just said, might give pause to my opposite number in this debate.

Have you been in a conversation, someone says something quite odd, and there’s a pregnant pause?

How did the word pregnant get into the conversation?  That, of course, usually means something significant will follow, but rarely does.  But it can also be a conversation killer where no one says anything.

Is that a wide eye in awe moment?  You did WHAT?

Then there is the word pours, sounds the same but is completely different.

In this case, the man pours water from the bucket on the plants.

Or my brother pours cold water on my plans.  Not literally, but figuratively, making me think twice about whether it would work or not.  Usually not.

Or a confession pours out of a man with a guilty conscience.  AKA sings like a bird.  Don’t you just love these quaint expressions?  It reminded me of a gangster film back in Humphrey Bogart’s day.

It never rains but it pours?  Another expression, when everything goes wrong.  A bit like home renovations really.

Really, it means to flow quickly and in large quantities, ie. rain pours down.

And if that isn’t bad enough, what about paws?

Sounds the same again, but, yes it’s what an animal has as feet, especially cats, dogs, and bears.

One use of it, out of context, of course, is ‘get your paws off me!’

And one rabbit paw might be good luck, but having two rabbit pows, I might win the lottery.

If only….

 

 

I’m glad I’m not in America…

Sadly, it’s true.

The problem is, I don’t know what to believe.   Are there more cases of COVID 19 there than anywhere else in the world?  Are there more deaths?

I read some reports that say that everything that is reported about COVID 19 in the US is nothing but lies, I believe the actual term used is ‘fake news’.

What is fake news?

From another side, that of the fake news outlets, yes I tuned into one of President Trumps political speeches (sorry, COVID 19 updates), and discovered that CNN and the New York Times were the leading culprits of spreading fake news, it seems that everything is going to hell in a handbasket.

Democrat lies, I’m told.  The President, on the other hand, says the US is moving ahead incredibly, the economy is booming, everyone is going back to work, school is in, and COVID is just a distant memory.

Who is right?  How do you make an informed decision?

I’m confused.  I want to visit New York, but one side is telling me it’s not safe, that infections and death is not going away, and the other, come on over, everything is fine.

Why, then, does my government tell me I can’t go anywhere?

Have the Democrats invaded my country and now telling us what we can and can’t do?

Will they be forming a radical left movement here and start up the looting and destruction of our cities?  And move onto defunding the police?

That’s another thing I don’t understand.  If your police departments have been defunded, and all the police are quitting, who is in charge of law and order, for that matter, is there any law and order?

Can someone PLEASE tell me what’s going on?

In a word: lesson

I went to school and learned a lesson. We often hope that our children learn from these lessons, but sometimes the lesson learned was not the one intended.

This could be called a useful piece of practical wisdom, and for me that was, don’t get into fights at the back of the schoolyard.

The former lesson can be, on one hand, a section of school work, from a larger continuous topic, or, part of a book, which can be an exercise.

Then there’s the study of the past and the hope that we can learn from the lessons of the past.

Sadly, in a lot of cases, we don’t and are therefore doomed to repeat the past, only with far more devastating consequences.

A lesson can also be a passage from the bible.

Or is it lessen, where we reduce the costs.

So lessen means reduce, to make less.

It’s a cold snap, and a do or die playoff game for the Maple Leafs

It’s an interesting expression, a cold snap, which probably would be more suited to describing freezing vegetables than the state of the weather.

But, it’s a fitting description, made all the more miserable watching the Maple Leafs playing the fourth game in the series, vying for a chance to continue their campaign for the Stanley Cup.

It’s two goals to none and no prizes for guessing who is none, and as much as I hate to concede defeat, it doesn’t look good.

So, it’s back to the weather, currently a more interesting topic of conversation.

Usually in winter, in Brisbane, it’s a lot warmer, and it’s supposed to be 26 degrees Celcius today, which would imply blue skies and sunshine.

As usual, the meteorological department has not quite got it right. Right now, its just past midday, and the temperature is 22 degrees centigrade, but there’s no sunshine, so there’s a ‘feels like’ factor here, and my guess is it’s more like 12 or 13.

And, just as I stepped out to check the weather, and the Blue Jack scored another goal. It’s now 3-0.

It’s looking very grim looking in this direction which is towards the ocean.

Looking the other way, there’s a ray of hope with slivers of blue sky trying to break through the cloud cover.

Where are the Maple Leafs?  One gets the feeling right now, they’re just going through the motions.

Oh, well, back to the weather…

Meanwhile…

Hang on, we just scored a goal and it’s 3-1. Hope springs eternal? The player I follow, Nylander, scores.

Now we’re playing with an empty net, sometimes a dangerous thing to do. OK, I just managed to catch my breath, and we just scored another goal. The score is now 3-2.

How many players can you fit in a net, because everyone is in the Blue Jackets net? Attacking. Attacking.

Yes, another score. It’s now 3-3.

I can’t believe it, and neither can the commentators. I don’t think anyone can, but if there had been spectators, there’d almost be a riot right about now.

So, we now have over time.

So, time to calm down, get a drink and a snack, and get back in time for the fourth period.

Of course, we expected the Maple Leafs would continue with their late boost in momentum, but things sorts of evened up as the minutes’ tick by.

Thinking that it was bogged down, I left the room to do something else, and, lo and behold, Mathews gets a goal and we won.

Typical.

Then I went outside and the weather had changed, more along the lines of what the weather bureau predicted.

Or was it because the Maple Leafs won?

Let’s hope the sun keeps shining because there’s another game to go.

 

A book review, “Life at the end of the Rainbow” by Jenny Andrews

Life at the end of the Rainbow, by Jenny Andrews

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Poetry is like art, its beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But, while art can be very subjective, poetry often has a special meaning, to both the writer and then the reader.  In turn, for each of us readers, a poem will have a different meaning, some will see what it represents, and others may not.

And, whilst I have not read a lot of poetry over the years, that changed recently when I subscribed to several blogs and discovered this whole new class of literature.

This view was strengthened when I came across a volume of poems by Jenny Andrews, titled Life at the End of the Rainbow.

For me, each poem is an insight into an extraordinary life, where the author sometimes lays bare those raw emotions, which, at times, we will find ourselves drawing parallels.

In a sense, I think we have all been to this mythical place called, The End of the Rainbow, and sometimes need a gentle reminder that it took a lot of ups and downs to get there.

This is, to my mind, a remarkable piece of work.

I, for one, can’t wait to see what the next stage of the journey will be.

 

Winter is back

This is the view from my car:

Winter has returned and because it’s time to pick up my granddaughter from school, it’s raining.

Not cold though, so there’s no need to have the engine running with the heater on.

I’m guessing though if I was in North America, or Canada, in Winter, I’d be outside shovelling the snow, so I wouldn’t get snowed in.

And as bad as that sounds, if this was a COVID 19 free world, being in Canada would be my first choice.

In Toronto.

The obvious reason, even though it’s the height of summer there, its because the Maple Leafs are in the play-offs, and I know I missed the first two games, but I did get to see the third, moving our time.

It was, in the end, heartbreaking, and I know if Chester was still alive, he’d have some very interesting comments on their performance.

But that was him, for my money, they tried hard, had their chances, and the breaks didn’t go their way. I mean 3 to 0 up, and to lose in overtime???

It’s probably the reason why its raining.

Perhaps well get thw next game and it will be down to that all important fifth. I know, with the miracle of the internet, I’ll be there in spirit.

And playing without a crowd? It must make it hard for Toronto not having tens of thousands of their loyal supporters cheering them on.

Only one thing left to say:

Go leafs Go!!!!

In every town, in every country…

The Railway Hotel

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It seems to me that in a lot of towns where the railway passes through, and there’s a station, there is a ubiquitous Railway Hotel.

And, for some reason, they are all very old, as if they were built when the railway first went through, and it was the nearest hotel to the station.

In some railway towns, there’s more than one hotel, because I’m sure the Railway Hotel did actually fill up, and people had to stay somewhere else.

I’ve stayed in one or two over the years, and they are monuments to the past, a glimpse into how the notion of grand hotels was, a hundred years ago.

Now, they’re just tired.

Peeling or fading wallpaper, threadbare and stained carpets, creaking floorboards, staircases that were once grand, but now don’t quite feel as solid as they used to be.

There’d be no sneaking upstairs because there’s always two or three stairs that creak.

And what’s that interesting aroma that seems to permeate everywhere?  Brass polish.  Wood polish.  Or just the remnants of the last meal; was that cabbage?

There’s always a lounge with a huge fire burning in winter, and there’s nothing like the warmth and smell of burning wood.  All the better to toast marshmallows!

The dining room had the wooden walls, the wooden floors and the wooden tables with crisply starched tablecloths and silverware that’s been polished every day for a hundred years.  Here you are served from a limited menu that has the basics and plenty of it,  Roast beef, lamb, or chicken, potatoes, carrots, mash potatoes, and beans and peas, and gravy that’s to die for.

Dining in that room is still an experience, and perhaps more so than the new hotel’s soulless restaurants with cordon bleu meals, sometimes scraps on a very large plate.

Give me a Railway Hotel any day.

Searching for locations: Lake Louise, Canada

A sleigh ride wasn’t the first activity that came to mind, but that first day we saw the sleighs lining up and thought it might be a bit of a lark.

It was New Year’s Eve and we booked a 2pm sleigh ride.  I figured any later we’d probably freeze to death.  The ride was for about 45 minutes, out around the edge of the lake and back.

Rides were on the hour and sometimes run at night.

We arrived at the departure point about 15 minutes before the ride and watched those who had been on the ride before come back looking somewhat frozen.  The only covering you had provided was a red blanket.

Wisely we put on many layers of clothing, hats, and gloves.

We managed to get a seat for ourselves where the maximum per seat was three.  The blanket wasn’t the thickest.

It was cold, and according to my phone, about minus 15 degrees Fahrenheit.  You could feel it, and it was lucky we were not moving fast.

 At the halfway point, we went out onto the lake to turn around.  It gave us a chance to take a photo of the sleigh, and the horses pulling it.  I felt sorry for the horses out in the cold.

As we turned around, we got to see a frozen waterfall.

Searching for locations: The Paris Opera House, Paris, France

This was one of the more interesting experiences for the grandchildren as they were, as all young girls are, interested in ballet.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit which included some time watching ballet practice.

I could not convince anyone to take the elevator back down to the ground floor as it was suspected we might be ‘attacked’ by the ‘phantom’.  Certainly, the elevator was very old and I think at the time it was being repaired.

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Part of the Grand Staircase in Palais Garnier Opera de Paris

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The ceiling above the main staircase.  The ceiling above the staircase was painted by Isidore Pils to depict The Triumph of Apollo, The Enchantment of Music Deploying its Charms, Minerva Fighting Brutality Watched by the Gods of Olympus, and The City of Paris Receiving the Plan of the New Opéra.

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The ceiling of Chagall at the Palais Garnier

On 23 September 1964, the new ceiling of the Opéra Garnier was inaugurated with great pomp.  It was painted by Marc Chagall at the request of André Malraux

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Amphitheatre and Orchestra Pit entrance

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Interior, and doorways to boxes

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Box seats in the auditorium

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Ornate ceilings and columns

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Seating inside the auditorium

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The day we were leaving Paris, was the first night of the Bolshoi Ballet.  My two granddaughters were greatly disappointed at missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime, to see the Bolshoi Ballet at the Paris Opera House.

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But we did get to see the principals practicing.