The leaves have also started to fall from the trees in my street. And while, in the summer, they're luxurious. In the winter, they become mere skeletons.
The desire to go travelling inched up a notch today. I woke early this morning, needing to be at work all week at about six am. It’s one of those weeks where I “get my hands dirty”, so to speak. When I woke at five am, I pressed the snooze button twice before finally getting out of bed. The shower was a welcome relief, as it was a fairly chilly morning, evident by the first light snowfall in areas like Orange, Thredbo and Lithgow.
Last night was our first “cold night” in Sydney. To be honest, it was still warm enough to sit outside (with a blanket over my knees) enjoying the peace and quiet of my balcony. However, the older I get, the more I think I need to move “a little further north each year”, as Graeme Connors once sang. I just don’t understand those people who say, “I love the winter”. I’m a summer boy, through and through, I’ve realised.
For the last few weeks, I’ve been tracking via my website the temperature differences between Sydney and Stockholm. And for the first time on the weekend, Stockholm was, for a little while at least, warmer than Sydney. And when I came home this afternoon and checked, I saw that both Sydney and Stockholm were equally as warm (or cold, depending on your perspective). Thirteen and rainy in Sydney; thirteen and fine in Stockholm. It’s a no-brainer, really.
The other sign winter is on the way is that Big Brother starts on television tonight. It’s one of those programs I’ve watched ever year since it started, although I did miss a few weeks of the show when I was living in Darwin where they didn’t, at the time, have Channel 10. I’ll be watching again tonight, as they enjoy several weeks of Gold Coast sunshine before finally donning their tracky-dacks and beanies.
And so as I watch BB and as I watch the temperatures in Sydney start to fall, my thoughts turn to the European summer. “I’ll miss winter this year”, I told the woman at my local cafe the other day, when she asked what I was up to. At that point, I thought of mid-July when it’s freezing in Sydney, and I’ll be enjoying the long summer days of Sweden. And weeks later, I’ll be enjoying the often stinking-hot summer of the south of France. Bring it on!
My friend Sue (who is now from Melbourne), told me she was back in Brisbane this weekend, and enjoyed what she described as “shorts weather”. Meanwhile I’m back in Sydney, getting out of bed far too early, and already wearing my tracky-dacks. You can understand why my desire to go travelling inched up a notch (or five) today.
Swedish class resumes tomorrow night and I’ve been wondering all night about what I should “write” in preparation for class.
I’ve been thinking I could write a piece about the comparisons about the Australian and Swedish political systems. Interestingly, the Government in Sweden is currently a Centre-Right coalition, while the Opposition is a Centre-Right (Red-Green) coalition, which, perhaps, might be what happens in Australia also? Centre-Left and Centre-Right, of course, are relative terms, since pretty much all of the political parties in Sweden would be to the left of most of the political parties in Australia.
I’ve also been thinking I might write about an aspect of Swedish corporate culture which might be about to launch in Australia, following in the foot-steps of IKEA. I’ve been reading tonight about speculation Swedish clothing company, Hennes och Mauritz (H&M), may be about to announce their first shop in Australia, possibly in the new Pitt Street Mall complex. I wish!
As well as adding a bit of “Swedishness” to Sydney, I’m also excited because they have clothes which, generally speaking, actually fit me.
As a average/shortish man with a roundish tummy, I generally find clothes shopping quite difficult. Generally speaking, when I buy a pair of jeans, I need to get the legs tailored, removing four or five inches from the legs. I find it remarkable why this is necessary, since I see an awful lot of Australians of similar proportions, especially in Central Sydney with a large Asian and Middle-Eastern populations. Often I find myself, oddly enough, as one of the taller people in a room or bus, even though I’m only 174cm tall. Yes, there are lots of tall, thin people around, but there are also lots of short people in Sydney too. And I wonder how many of us are going to the tailor to have our jeans modified?
Wearing my H and M polo shirt
As a result, over the last few years I’ve tended to favour the second hand clothing store. First, it’s part of my general philosophy the world is full of crap and that we should recycle as much as possible. Second, it’s a cost factor, as you can usually pick up some very nice clothing for next to nothing. And third, most of the clothing adjustments have already been done. Rather than go to a tailor and have several inches removed from the legs, I can actually go in and find clothing where those necessary adjustments have already occurred.
A few years ago I picked up a pair of second hand jeans while visiting the town of Coonamble in Western NSW. Although I was impressed with the price – just two dollars at the local op-shop – I was more impressed with the fact they fitted, instantly, off the shelf. Whoever had them before me was obviously the same weight and height, and for that I was truly grateful. No stuffing around in the changing room, no going to tailors, they just fitted!
The only other “jeans breakthrough” I’ve had occured in March this year when I went to H&M in Copenhagen. The jeans I purchased for about $50 fitted right off the shelf, both in terms of waist and height measurements. I’ve been wearing them ever since. I love them.
A couple of years ago in Sweden, I also bought a great black polo shirt from H&M which also just “fitted”, and looked good.
Although I appreciate there are some “issues” associated with the manufacture of clothing through these international chains, I’m a bit of a fan of Hennes och Mauritz, both for their Swedish-ness and for their manufacture of clothing which just “fits”.
There’s also an interesting broader issue about H&M, which reminds me of a program which I saw on SBS a couple of years ago about Swedish corporate culture.
The central thesis for the program was that years of extreme poverty, followed by years of high affluence have influenced the nature of Swedish business. “We think that everyone should be able to afford good fashion”, said someone from H&M. Later, another commented, “That’s why in Sweden all the young people dress the same, and it doesn’t worry them. In some countries, everyone wants to look different, but that’s not the case in Sweden”.
An interesting philosophy. I wonder if it will have much traction in Australia, or have we all become such individualists that we would all want to dress differently or maybe we won’t notice so much? I suspect, at heart, we remain a largely conformist culture (“we’re all individuals”) and they’ll do reasonably well.
The last couple of weeks have been reasonably busy, and so I haven’t managed to immerse myself in the Scandinavian Film Festival as I’d hoped. There was one film, however, I definitely wanted to see on the big screen, having previously seen it only a small screen: the movie about the life of Swedish jazz singer, Monica Zetterlund.
I’d first heard about Monica twenty or thirty years ago, as Frida from ABBA had described her as one of her idols. The story of a jazz singer from a small country town who, in 1960s Sweden, has to find a balance between career and family is a theme in both their lives.
In the time since, I’ve come to know and really enjoy Monica’s work.
I think my favourite song of hers is her Swedish language version of “Take 5”: it’s a great tune, sung with passion and energy.
The film explains this particular song, and many of her others, comes from Monica’s desire to sing (mostly in Swedish) about things in her life. The film details a meeting with Ella Fitzgerald, where Ella, quite directly tells her not to sing about New Orleans and other such things (the staples of 1950s and 1960s jazz), but about stuff she knows.
Monica’s own experiences of travelling to New York are documented in the film: an early disastrous performance where the show was shut down because her backing musicians were black; and a later more successful show that brings her family and friends to tears. The film documents a difficult relationship with her father who lives in the small town of Hagfors. “Do you have any idea where that is?”, I whispered to Grant. Later, over a drink, we looked it up, locating it in the middle of Sweden, towards the border with Norway. There’s a really funny scene in the movie (which I won’t spoil) about Monica’s personal vow never to return to Hagfors.
I really loved this film. It’s a great story. Great music. Features great performances. And has beautiful cinematography which deserves the big screen. I really hope the film gets a broader cinematic run in Australia.
PS: After watching the movie we went out for a drink and a chat. We joked we should have played the “Monica Zetterlund Drinking Game”. It’s the game where you watch the film and have a drink every time she does. You would end up pretty sloshed pretty quickly. She liked a drink or 25,000, it seems.
My head tells me I should go to bed straight away, as it’s close to midnight and I need to be awake at five o’clock in the morning to be at work at six. Actually, to be honest, although I set the alarm for five o’clock, I usually hit the snooze button a couple of times, and, being so close to work, I can still make it by six. But I just can’t go to bed just yet, as I’m still quite pumped from having seen the Ensemble Theatre Company’s production of “Death of a Salesman”.
I have always been vaguely aware of Arthur Miller’s work, having studied “The Crucible” at high school. However, I’ve never seen a production of his best known play, “Death of a Salesman”. And so when Colin and I were sitting in the theatre tonight waiting for the show to start, I asked him for a brief outline of the plot. Put very simply: it’s the story of a man who, close to retirement, with many regrets, kills himself.
In deciding to go, the star attraction for me was Jackie Weaver as the wife. I think she’s such a fantastic actor and one of those people who, when on stage, just makes you feel good.
However, it was Jackie’s real life husband – and husband in the play – who was the real surprise attraction. He was absolutely tremendous in the title role. There were so many people from my own life – friends and family (and probably a bit of myself) – who I could see in the characterisation he provided. Truly fantastic, especially as he maintained such a strong and consistent performance over a fairly lengthy play.
Also, the actor who played the son “Biff” was excellent. In this character too, I could see many parralels with the issues all of us struggle with as we search for meaning. Like his father, he too, had regrets about an apparent sense of failure.
The most moving scene for me was the funeral scene. The look on Jackie Weaver’s face, that look of desolate grief, was overwhelming. As I looked into her eyes, tears swelled up in mine, eventually rolling down my right cheek.
At one moment I thought of the father son relationship as being like that explored in “Cat On A Hot Tin Roof”. And then I began to think about plays like “Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf” and some of the other great works of American theatre. At that point I wondered if, we too, have a similar theatrical tradition in Australia. I concluded that although we have some great plays, we probably don’t have many of those plays which have the same international appeal. We often go for the quirky, the uniquely Australian, and we often don’t like to “spell it out” as obviously as American theatre often does. We also often use humour to diffuse an exploration of some of those “great issues” of life. That may or may not be a good thing.
Overall though I thought it was a great play. Great actors, too. And the set was simple. There was nothing to distract you from the play itself, which contains so many memorable scenes and memorable lines. The kind of lines that you don’t just let slip by as “good one liners”. They’re the kind of lines that you listen to, and then reflect upon for moments afterwards. Don’t ask me to repeat some of them now, though, as it’s close to midnight and I should be in bed.
Today, my interest in genealogy took me to Dundas Valley near Eastwood. In particular, I wanted to find out more about the land granted to my GGGGG-grandparents, John and Martha Love, who came to Australia in 1791.
John Love, who was a member of the NSW Corps, was granted 30 acres of land at “The Ponds” (February 20, 1794) and a further 90 acres of prime land at “The Field Of Mars” (March 14, 1795). Later, however, he leased the land out to Captain William Kent, the nephew of Governor Hunter. The land was in the modern day suburb of Eastwood, with the historic “Eastwood House” now located on the land given to him.
A few weeks ago, fellow researcher, June Love alerted me to a plaque of some sorts which recognised the early land grant at “The Ponds” awarded to our common ancestor.
June wrote…
If my memory serves me well, the land at The Ponds was sold to Gregory Blaxland, nephew of The ‘Blaxland’ Lawson & Wentworth fame. William Cox who built the first road across the Blue Mountains also gets a mention. All the records of land transactions involving John Love were able to be viewed at The Heritage Centre, Parramatta. There is a Notice erected by Parramatta Council in Dundas Valley near the Rugby Club where John Love is listed as an original land holder (30 acres), and overlaid on the original land grants survey is the present subdivision. Because Eastwood historical records are quite comprehensive, the succession of ownership of the 90 acres on which Eastwood CBD is now situated is well documented.
Getting there was reasonably simple…
Dep: 10:45am Central Station Platform 9: Take the Central Coast And Newcastle Line train (CityRail) Arr: 11:06am Eastwood Station Platform 3
Dep: 11:19am Eastwood, West St Nr Eastwood Station – Take the 545 bus Arr: 11:28am Dundas Valley, Yates Av Nr Alexander St
Walk to Quarry Rd, Dundas Valley – 352 metres
The signpost is very near the Dundas Valley R.U. Club – maybe known as Parramatta Leagues Club (sub-branch) – in Quarry Road, Dundas Valley near the intersection with David Street. Signs are dark blue with semicircular curve over the top and the sign at eye level. UBD Map Ref 192 F9. Nearest main Street intersection Evans Road and Yates Avenue. Although somewhat defaced more recently, it was still readable. Bronze in colour with black dots showing surveys, and resembles a lithograph (On the side where you are facing south/west as you read it). (A bit of a story on the reverse side)
At the start of The Ponds Walk at modern-day Eastwood in Sydney there is sign which records the names of the original European settlers and the land which they were granted. John Love is listed as one of the original owners of land there.John Love’s land grant was Lot 108The Ponds, a name which I suppose it derived from several ponds of water, which are near the farms, according to Watkin Tench 1789.
What happened to John and Martha?
John’s career in the NSW Corps was at best mixed. Arriving in Australia as Private, he was promoted to Corporal (March 25, 1791) and then to Sergeant (June 26, 1791), though reduced to being a Private several months later (December 27, 1791). According to the book, “Sydney Cove 1791-1792″ by John Cobley, this later demotion resulted from depositions about an incident which occured on April 30, 1791 on board the Matilda. I have yet to discover what this was.
He was discharged from the NSW Corps on July 14, 1798, though he later re-enlisted, as the 1799 Muster records him as a Private in the Col. Francis Grose Company of the NSW Corps. Years later, he was reportedly mentioned in the Sydney Gazette (1814) for his capture of a deserter from the 73rd Regiment, one of a group of 17 bandits.
Despite being a member of the NSW Corps, whose job was to uphold the law, John Love had several convictions himself.
In common with other members of the NSW Corps, the “Rum Corps” John Love was involved in the production of rum. On Monday, June 1806, he was arrested and fined 100 Spanish dollars (one of the currencies in use at the time) after the discovery on his property at the Field of Mars of a still and other appartus for distilling liquor. The incident was reported in the Sydney Gazette of Wednesday June 6.
On Monday, in consequence of a like information, several Constables were sent to search for a still and other apparatus on the farm of J. Love at the Field of Mars; from whence a large boiler was produced, supposed to be for the purpose of distilling. The owner was in consequence ordered to find bail for his good behaviour.
In December 3 1816, John Love was convicted of stealing government cattle in collusion with two of his convict servants (Joseph Jones, Patrick McGinty) and all were sentenced to hang (NSW Records Reel 6006; 4/3495 p. 421).
His family appealed successfully for clemency, though it appears he may have been sent to Newcastle on the “Lady Nelson” for a period of time.
On account of some favourable circumstances in mitigation of his offence I am induced to extend Grace & Mercy unto him and to grant unto him the said John Love a Pardon for his said crime as the sole and express condition that the said John Love shall continue to reside as a convict in the Territory of NSW and the dependancies during the term of his natural life and be kept at hard labour ‘Macquarie’” The pardon was to be null and void if he were found outside NSW.
In a petition to the governor, the Superintendent of John Oxley’s farm requested the sum of 100-pounds to be repaid for the forfeited property.
Several years later on June 11, 1822, he was also fined Đ2.10 Shillings for employing a bushranger named Murphy (possibly, Patrick Murphy who later worked on nearby Harrington Farm).
It’s difficult to know whether these brushes with the law were the consequence or the cause of long-term economic problems.
The Court of Civil Jurisdiction, for example, ordered that the Seymour Farm had to be sold in 1814 to recover debt.
Ex parte William Packer, in the matter of Joseph and John Love: Pursuant to an Order of the Court of Civil Jurisdiction, ande in the above matter, the Provest Marshal will cause to be set up for sale by public auction at the Market Place, Sydney, on Thursday the 25th instant at Twelve o’clock, a certain farm and lands, called Seymour’s Farm; containing 80 acres, more or less and situated in the Field of Mars (unless the Debt Costs and all incidental expenses are previously liquidated.) Wm Gorr, Provest Marshal.
And after John’s conviction for stealing cattle, Martha was forced to mortgage the farm (on August 13, 1817) and a mare and foal were sold to Thomas Moore for 45 pounds.
Further evidence of their economic woes came in 1824 when their young son John (well, reportedly their son, but perhaps more likely their grandson since he was too young to be there son) was placed in the Orphan’s Home and died, aged 9 with dysentery June 29th, 1824.
Aged 74, and living at Appin, Martha died on November 28, 1822 (V1822 5579 2B/1822) and was buried at St Luke’s Church, Liverpool.
Just over four years later, John Love also died, aged 94 on January 4, 1827 (V1827196 2C/1827) and (182772 11/1827).
Sir Thomas Mitchell Reserve, The Ponds, SydneySir Thomas Mitchell Reserve, The Ponds, Sydney
My heart sunk when news came through this afternoon of a confirmed COVID case in Lismore.
According to the local area health service, someone who attended Goonellabah Public School on Monday has tested positive. The school has been closed for deep cleaning. And there’s a feeling in the community (as evidenced by Facebook comments), it’s only a matter of time before we’re forced back into lockdown.
The comments are mixed. For many, there’s anger, as people try to understand how someone could have come into contact with the condition after five or six weeks of lockdown. “They must have broken the lockdown and travelled to an infected area” is one school of thought. Another school of thought notes the child involved may have been asymptomatic, so there was no apparent need for the child to be held back from school.
Unlike the previous case, a man from Sydney, this involves a local family, so there’s bound to be a greater degree of anger from the local community because “it’s one of us”. A friend with a family member who works in Education says the family visited Sydney, despite the lockdown. “It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows who it is”, a family member who works in Health commented. Get ready for the pitchforks!
Me? I’ve gone through emotions from anger to sadness. Sadness, because I had only just booked a flight back to Sydney. Even though inner Sydney is now becoming a focus for the outbreak, I figured I might as well return home. I was on the verge of telling my family who are deeply concerned I would be returning to something resembling Albert Camus’ “The Plague”. Anger, because I knew this means those plans probably can’t go ahead.
Though I could dwell on this for quite some time, I thought I might share some photographs I’ve taken over the last few days.
BEFOR THE NEWS: As I walked past the Lismore Baths, I noticed they had re-opened for the summer, and after the lockdown. Sadly, it’s only for regular laps right now, and not a bit of a splash about. I’m not serious enough as a swimmer to be one of those people who likes to do constant laps. I like to do slaps, have a bit of a splash about, rest for a while, and then do a few more laps etc. I think lap swimmers would probably find me annoying, so I’m either going to look for an especially quiet time, or maybe wait until I get back to Sydney.Lismore Memorial BathsBehind the levee bank, LismoreThe public toilet in the Brown’s Creek Car Park gets a new look, thanks to some awesome public art.Though they’re labelled “budget accommodation” these days, they were mostly previously known as “boarding houses”. Nearby, there’s a “soup kitchen” (not sure if that’s still the correct term) which recently had (to my surprise) a reasonably lengthy queue. #signofthetimesPhyllis Street, South Lismore. Lovely, late afternoon light.Spotted one of these at the South Lismore Bakery. Though they’re calling it a “French Pastry” these days, I remember it as an “Elephant’s Ear”. Can someone please give the coronary ward at Lismore Base Hospital a heads up?
There’s always something “scarey” about trying a new cuisine. Even though I’m fairly adventurous, by nature, when it comes to food, there’s still some apprehension. Apprehension that you’ll order the “wrong thing”, or that you’ll make a cultural faux pas. That’s why I’ve been walking past a fairly new nearby restaurant in Surry Hills, never stopping in to order.
The words “Biryani” and “Hyderabadi” have meant nothing to me, and that’s why I haven’t stopped in to eat, or get takeaway from Pista House.
The “Pista House” on Crown Street, Surry Hills has been consistently busy since it opened a few months ago. Despite my lack of knowledge about the cuisine they offer, the attraction of a busy restaurant got the better of me the other night, so I called in to grab some takeaway. The menu looked so incredibly “foreign” to me, and so I chose “chicken biryani” as something which sounded like I couldn’t go wrong. I also chose “medium” spicyness for the same/similar reason.
Hyderabadi cuisine (native: Hyderabadi Ghizaayat), also known as Deccani cuisine, is the native cooking style of the Hyderabadi Muslims, and began to develop after the foundation of the Bahmani Sultanate, and more drastically with the Qutb Shahi dynasty around the city of Hyderabad, promoting the native cuisine along with their own. Hyderabadi cuisine had become a princely legacy of the Nizams of Hyderabad State, as it began to further develop further on from there. It is an amalgamation of Mughal, Turkish, and Arabic along with the influence of the native Telugu and Marathwada cuisines. Hyderabadi cuisine comprises a broad repertoire of rice, wheat and meat dishes and the skilled use of various spices, herbs and natural edibles.
In the meal I ordered there was lots of rice. It was tasty enough, though nothing special in my view. But at least I’ve now tried it.
As I’ve gone through my photographs of the last week there have been lots of food photographs, so I thought I’d share a few.
Friday Lunch with Friends : Beetroot, Tomato and Watermelon Salad with haloumi at Cook & Archies, Surry Hills. Very tasty, and a nice place to catch up for lunch with some now-retired former colleagues.Lunch today alone : Linguini Marinara, the $14 Lunch Special at the Oxford Hotel, Darlinghurst. Though I don’t understand why there was a sprig on top, the meal was very tasty, and good value.And finally, coffee. I still haven’t settled on my “permanent replacement” to the Coles Supermarket at Surry Hills. Today, I bought some groceries at Aldi on Oxford Street. As it was “Fair Trade” and super-cheap ($4.95), I thought I’d try this brand of coffee. Fingers crossed.
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I like it when I get a mention – it makes me feel famous!
When I visited Stockholm in 1975 I was amazed that the temperature reached 98F. Completely shattered my image of cold Sweden. I also remember being struck at how many blonde people the city contained.
I like it when I get a mention – it makes me feel famous!
When I visited Stockholm in 1975 I was amazed that the temperature reached 98F. Completely shattered my image of cold Sweden. I also remember being struck at how many blonde people the city contained.