The flowers were out in full bloom the day we took the grandchildren for ‘a walk in the park’.
Of particular interest was the Japanese garden with a trail with rocks,and mini waterfalls
And as a fitting end to the day, a chance to feed a family of ducks
Whilst in reality these steps go down to a very narrow space of the beach, and scattered rocks in the shallow water, so much more could be inspired by this photograph.
Further out that day, divers were out exploring about 100 yards offshore.
But, to me, it what you don’t see that gives it its fascination.
We could be anywhere along a 1,000-mile shoreline, one side a small village lazily gets through the day, on the other, a deserted and overgrown picnic spot that no one ever comes to anymore since the bypass road was built.
But it is not any of those. it’s in Mornington, Victoria, Australia, the pier that is not far from a small park, and that day, very, very busy.
It simply goes to show that sometimes a photograph can provide enough information to inspire a story.
I gave the order to my assistant to order the supplies we needed in order to maintain stock levels.
Oh, yes, the word order is one of my favourites, because it can confuse the hell out of many people in its simplicity and yet complexity.
I gave the order, it’s what happens in the armed forces, and a lot of other places, but mostly we would associate it with organisations that have hierarchical authority.
The military, for one, cut orders, the means of sending one of its minions to another place, or to do a specific job.
Order supplies, well, just about anyone can order something from somewhere, usually on the internet, and sometimes require or are given an order number so it can be tracked.
In order to maintain, in order to get what I want, in order to get elected, this is just another way of using the word, with the aim of achieving something, though I’m sure there’s probably a better way of expressing these sentiments.
Law and order, well, doesn’t everyone want this, and doesn’t it always turn up in an election campaign, and seems to be the first thing sacrificed after the election. The thing is, no one can guarantee law and order.
There is the law and there is administering it. There is no order that comes with it, we just hope that order is maintained, and deplore the situation when it isn’t.
Perhaps in order to maintain law and order, we might need more police.
Then, of course, there is alphabetical order, and numerical order, where things can be designated from A to Z, like this challenge, or from 1 to 10, or more. We can sort words alphabetically, numbers numerically and data items by keys or an index.
This is naturally called a sort order.
Then there is my car, or bike, or washing machine, or mixmaster. They are currently in good working order, though that might not last.
And lastly, in deference to all those out there who are thinking of becoming dictators, it’s always possible, one day, there will be a new world order. They might actually be in their own particular order, whose intellect might be (?) of the highest order.
Surely that is one order too many.
I found this…
So near and yet so far.
What I found was the moon out in the late afternoon, a phenomenon that might happen on a regular basis, but this one of the few times I’ve seen it.
And it reminds me of something I was told a long time ago. Shoot for the moon. I never quite understood what the person meant, not until a long time later when I realised that I was being told nothing was impossible.
Had I ever achieved the impossible?
The thing is, each of us define what is possible and what is impossible ourselves, and is therefore different for every person. If you tell yourself it is impossible, then it requires a mind shift to get past that barrier.
But, the question still remains the same, did I achieve the impossible?
I never thought I’d write a book, or have it published. Some would say I still haven’t achieved that goal because I self published it on Amazon.
I think I achieved what I set out to do.
I never thought I’d get a university degree, but people had faith in me, and yes, I got it in the end.
I never thought, when I was younger, I would be a father, and sometimes I wonder whether it was worth it, but having grandchildren dispelled any perceived disappointment.
And what is on the impossible list now?
Not a lot. At my age, I don’t think it’s possible I will travel to the moon, nor afford to skirt the edge of space, as much as it would be amazing to look back at the planet.
I don’t think I’ll ever become a CEO, but then I don’t want to. Too much responsibility.
What’s left that is achievable?
Tracing my family history, and going back to where my ancestors came from, and, hopefully finding someone who was ‘famous’.
I found this…
So near and yet so far.
What I found was the moon out in the late afternoon, a phenomenon that might happen on a regular basis, but this one of the few times I’ve seen it.
And it reminds me of something I was told a long time ago. Shoot for the moon. I never quite understood what the person meant, not until a long time later when I realised that I was being told nothing was impossible.
Had I ever achieved the impossible?
The thing is, each of us define what is possible and what is impossible ourselves, and is therefore different for every person. If you tell yourself it is impossible, then it requires a mind shift to get past that barrier.
But, the question still remains the same, did I achieve the impossible?
I never thought I’d write a book, or have it published. Some would say I still haven’t achieved that goal because I self published it on Amazon.
I think I achieved what I set out to do.
I never thought I’d get a university degree, but people had faith in me, and yes, I got it in the end.
I never thought, when I was younger, I would be a father, and sometimes I wonder whether it was worth it, but having grandchildren dispelled any perceived disappointment.
And what is on the impossible list now?
Not a lot. At my age, I don’t think it’s possible I will travel to the moon, nor afford to skirt the edge of space, as much as it would be amazing to look back at the planet.
I don’t think I’ll ever become a CEO, but then I don’t want to. Too much responsibility.
What’s left that is achievable?
Tracing my family history, and going back to where my ancestors came from, and, hopefully finding someone who was ‘famous’.
Does a rainy, cold, miserable sort of day usually reflect your mood?
It could be said the outlook is bleak, but from where I’m sitting, it might be more picturesque.
This photo was taken from the veranda of one of four cottages that have, one one side, a macadamia farm, and on the other, a valley with a small river running through it.
I’m told there is reasonably good fishing in the river.
But, on a good day, with blue skies and sunshine, the outlook is completely different.
This is the sort of place you go to do nothing, perhaps read a book, do a crossword, but nothing substantial.
We come here to wind down, and take several days to do it.
…
But, as for a story…
…
I have in mind a theme of a man on the run, from his past, his demons, and a very dangerous criminal.
Yes, it’s that old story of someone witnessing what they shouldn’t, and paying the price because they did.
Now, hiding out in the country, it’s only a matter of time before they are discovered.
I was poking around on the gallery on my phone and found this
It was the rear of the club house for a golf course that was adjacent to the resort we were staying at before COVID shut down the country and all travel.
It was a bleak day with rain falling from drizzle to a heavy shower, and I had to wonder what it would be like on a fine summer’s day.
The club house also had space for conventions and weddings, and I could imaging having the wedding in the rotunda as the the sun departed leaving behind shades of yellow, orange and red.
Having a fountain in the wedding photo would be so hard to take either.
Perhaps we could renew our vows one day in just such a location.
It’s a thought.
…
But as for a story…
…
It’s a bleak day with constant drizzle, the sort of day to fuel introspection.
A day to spend in front of a fire with a good book instead of chasing a white ball. The thing is, you never quite know when the weather is going to interfere with the best laid plans.
A week before, the forecast was for clear skies, and perfect blue skies.
Jake was going to meet up with some very influential people on the golf course to discuss business. It was not the sort of business that was conducted indoors, in a conference room, or an office.
But the weather was not going to play ball.
As the murky darkness dawned into a grey soggy morning with constant irritating drizzle, Jake was looking out the window of his room that overlooked the parkland when there was a knock on the door.
There was no way anyone was playing golf in this weather, so he was hoping it was his assistant with the alternate arrangements.
It was the assistant, but with a look of disappointment on her face.
“What news?” he asked.
“McDonald’s PA just called. He had a heart attack last night, and just died.”
…
Is this the beginning of the end?
We decided to have lunch in a traditional Diner.
On an early morning walk, I discovered the Brooklyn Diner, a small restaurant tucked away in a street not far from Columbus Circle, perhaps a piece of history from the American past.
After all, if you’re going to take in the sights, sounds, and food of a country what better way to do it than visiting what was once a tradition.
This one was called the Brooklyn Diner. It had a combination of booths and counter sit down, though the latter was not a very big space, so we opted for a booth.
The object of going to a Diner is the fact they serve traditional American food, which when you get past the hot dogs and hamburgers and fries, takes the form of turkey and chicken pot pies among a variety of other choices.
Still looking for a perfectly cooked turkey, something I’ve never been able to do myself, I opted for the Teadition Turkey Lunch, which the menu invitingly said was cooked especially at the diner and was succulent. I couldn’t wait.
We also ordered a hamburger, yes, yet another, and a chicken pot pie, on the basis the last one I had in Toronto was absolutely delicious (and cooked the same way since the mid-1930s)
While waiting we got to look at a slice of history belonging to another great American tradition, Baseball, a painting on the wall of the Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets field, long since gone from their home.
The Turnkey lunch looked like this
which didn’t seem to be much, and had this odd pasta slice on the plate, but the turkey was amazing and lived up to the menu description.
The Chicken Pot Pie looked like this
And looked a lot larger in reality than the photo shows.
But, sadly while it was not bad, it was a little dry, and could possibly do with using the more succulent thigh part of the chicken.
All of this was washed down by Long Island Ice Teas and Brooklyn Lager.
AS for the Diner experience, it’s definitely a 10 out of 10 for me.
I thought since it is Spring here, we could do with a breath of fresh air and colour that comes with the change if season
Living in Queensland, Winter never quite seems to be as cold as it is in the southern states, which are closer to Antarctica.
We have had a relatively mild winter this year and I didn’t have to light the fire once, though we did use the reverse cycle sir conditioning.
But, from now the temperature will be rising as well as the humidity and will hang around until April next year.
Normally this would mean that a large proportion of the population would be planning their summer holidays, but with Covid restrictions, we may not be allowed to leave our state, or only visit states that have no or few cases like us, and definitely no overseas travel.
For people who like to travel, this is a bitter pill to swallow, and especially so for all those retirees who have worked all their lives, and decided to wait until retirement to see their own country and the world at large.
To me, the adage ‘don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today’ seemed appropriate and we decided once the kids were old enough, we would travel far and wide while we could. It was a wise decision because neither of us are as agile as we used to be.
Seems we were the lucky ones.
Now we are content to see our own country which no doubt will be able to manage Covid to the extent that life might return to a form if normal sooner rather that later.
And if it doesn’t, then I have enough to amuse myself at home. I’m sure we are all familiar with the expression ‘spring cleaning’. We have decided to clean house, and do some renovating.
And it’s a surprise when cleaning out those cupboards, drawers, and boxes, the stuff you’ve accumulated over many, many years. Last I heard, we were taking about getting a large skip, so I suspect this culling is going to be savage.
But, just to be clear, no books will be thrown out!
After leaving Toronto, we just had enough time to have breakfast and get to the car, another sedan, just managing to fit everything in.
By now we have finally realized the booking agent at Flight Centre had made the wrong type of car bookings for us in Canada, and I will be waiting with interest what cars we get in New York.
We went to a special section of the airport where Air Canada planes depart for the USA, and where the customs and immigration were completed on the Canada side and we just walked out of the terminal into the USA.
The plane trip was undertaken in an Embraer 175, twinjet, a small plane with 27 rows of 2 x 2 in coach, the American equivalent to economy.
Today we are traveling from Toronto Pearson to Newark Airport, somewhere near New York, USA.
The flight, a relatively short one, was supposed to take 56 minutes flying time, but as we all know, that’s not usually where the problems lie.
Here is the flight’s running sheet:
Boarding completed at 12:08
Push back at 12:18
Advised of a 45-minute wait at 12:41, something is holding us up.
Engines are shut down and we are sitting on the tarmac somewhere within the airfield. Snacks are handed out.
Take off is at exactly 1:30 pm
Landed 2:40 pm after taking the long way to Newark. Follow the course tracker as we approached Newark was like watching a drunk wander home from the pub.
Taxied for 8 minutes only to discover our parking bay is still occupied, so waiting to see if it is a long or short wait.
We have been plagued with difficulties.
Engine shutdown, or so I thought, at 2:56 means we are in for a long wait for a gate. Turns out the engines were on slow idle so they could power the lights and air conditioning.
Here we sit on the tarmac at Newark airport and going nowhere. Other planes are seen to come and go.
A 3pm announcement, another 20-minute wait for a gate.
3:40 pm we can now go to our gate.
4:15 we exit the terminal and find the car, and set off for the hotel in New York
Suburban 7 seater, very sedate driver, didn’t go over 45mph. Finally, we get a car that fits us and our luggage.
As for the ride from the airport to the hotel…
We were picked up by a Chevrolet Suburban, driven by the most cautious driver in America. Hoping to get a glimpse of the US countryside on the way from Newark to the hotel, arriving after 4 and getting dark by 4:30, most of the drive was in the dark
As far as I could tell, after taking the Manhattan tunnel, we drove around the outside of the island till we reached the nearest street to our hotel. It took about 45 minutes but at least it was warm, comfortable and better than any limousine we’ve had so far.
And then the Manhattan club…
I can’t help but think on first sight that this was once a night club, you know, the type that existed in the 40s and 50s where it wasn’t a social crime to smoke and drink and then drive home though I suspect most of the customers those days had nearby apartments.
Yes, a different and now lost forever, age.
As for the truth…
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 