“Shouldn’t that be a B?”, I thought to myself when I saw the Kate Lush poster at the Lewisham Hotel.
It was another exceptionally quite night at the pub. Aside from our group there was just a handful of others. Seriously? How do they make any money?
The barman told us they have a big weekend coming up with a sold out event.
But seriously you have to wonder how any pub could make money with so few customers.
We had fun, of course, as we talked about our lives, the week we’ve had, and so on.
In other news, I’ve registered a really good domain for an idea I’ve had for a while now but have done nothing about. I also picked up the same gmail address which is good.
I’m not going to talk about it now, in case someone else thinks it’s a good idea. There was a similar project earlier in the decade, which fizzled out.
But it’s something I think there’s room for, something I would enjoy doing, and perhaps something which will open up a few doors to the future.
“Hi, how’s it going?”, a bloke shouted to me in a friendly manner from a backyard BBQ in Ridge Lane. As I walked a few metres on, he asked if I wanted to come in for a beer. “Fine, thanks”, I shouted back.
That simple exchange convinced me Ridge Place and Ridge Lane are probably nice little places to live, although strictly speaking I doubt if anyone actually lives on either, since both seem to be back laneways for people living on Ridge Street and Cleveland Street.
As part of my ongoing efforts to document the streets and laneways of my neighbourhood in a more interesting manner than Google Street View, I went for a further wander this afternoon.
Compared with some of the laneways I’ve seen so far, these two are quite interesting for their diversity, and for the wonderful colours, shapes and textures to be found.
Corner of Ridge Street and Ridge Place, Surry Hills
Ever since my amputation a couple of years ago, I’ve pretty much lived in shorts most days. I hardly ever wear long pants. It actually started as a purely practical reason—I was a fan of “skinny pants,” and absolutely none of my old trousers would fit over the new prosthetic leg! More recently, though, I’ve discovered some genuine perks to having the leg on show. It makes life much easier at places like airports; when the security team needs to scan the prosthesis, having it visible from the get-go saves a lot of time and hassle. I’ve realised there’s a real advantage to just showing off the legs.
That’s why I found it so fascinating to chat with Sara Shams for my upcoming podcast, “The Limb Shift”. While I’ve embraced the “shorts life” out of necessity and convenience, Sara’s journey with visibility has been much more of a recent personal evolution.
Despite being a bilateral above-knee amputee since she was six years old, she spent decades hiding her prosthetic legs under long pants, stockings, and skirts. She didn’t want to be different; she just wanted to fit in.
The shift finally arrived only three years ago. Sara began questioning why she was hiding and what message that sent to other people with disabilities. She took a terrifying leap by posting a photo on Instagram wearing a skirt without stockings. To her surprise, “nothing happened”—except for a surge in encouragement and a new sense of worth.
Sara’s story began in Bangladesh, where she was born with a condition called tibial hemimelia. Seeking better opportunities, her parents moved the family to New Zealand when she was six, where she underwent bilateral through-knee amputations.
Growing up presented some serious hurdles. As a child, Sara hated her prosthetics because she could “zoom around” much faster on her knees. Starting high school brought bullying, which caused her self-confidence to tank and led her to hide her legs for years. As a woman of colour with a disability, Sara also felt she didn’t meet the narrow beauty standards seen in the media, which deeply hurt her self-esteem.
I absolutely loved chatting with Sara. Her energy is infectious, and her approach to life is incredibly empowering. She is now a pharmacist, model, and consultant, using her lived experience through her business, to help organisations move toward authentic inclusion.
As Sara says: “It’s okay for us to be different. It’s okay for us to ask for help”.
This interview will be a key part of The Limb Shift, my podcast series launching later this year.
The owners of a nearby cafe are clearlv expecting a change in the weather today. Though I’ve lost count of the number of days of rain we’ve had, they were obviously feeling optimistic when they put their furniture out this morning.
Crown Street, Surry Hills
The rain has caused a lot of devastation over the last few days. This tweet by a friend was very upsetting, to see the owners of a house being washed down the river, on the day they were to be married.
Whenever there’s flooding in Sydney, I get worried phone calls from my family. I have to remind them I live in Surry HILLS now, not South Lismore. As much as I’m a proud “Southie” my retirement plans don’t include living there.
One family home viewed from another, during the 2017 flood in Lismore.
Despite the rain, I went into town this morning to do some grocery shopping. Since the closure of our local supermarket, I haven’t quite settled into a new routine about where to shop. I still prefer to shop early in the morning, or later in the evening, as the supermarkets are generally a lot quieter. This morning I travelled by light trail to the Woolworths on George Street.
Light rail on George Street
There weren’t many people on the tram. And without wishing to generalise about people based on their appearance, I’d say many of those on the light rail were people who would ordinarily “sleep rough”. And why wouldn’t they, in this weather?
Light rail trip on George Street.
There’s been a signficant decrease in the visible number of people sleeping rough in Sydney in the last year. One of the positive things about the pandemic has been a response by the authorities to find accommodation for people. Hopefully this will become the “new normal’, and people won’t be thrown out once the pandemic “ends”.
For me, the anniversary passed this week of working from home. There’s still no word of a “return to work” in the short-term at least. There was another case in Sydney this week of someone diagnosed with COVID-19. A security guard at one of the isolation hospitals. And this morning on the radio there was talk of a “third wave” in Europe.
Though it can sometimes be cold, wet and miserable in Sydney during winter, it can also be totally awesome. And yesterday, in the midst of our visit to the NAIDOC Week Arts Festival, I took a brief walk out in the sunshine. I sat down, I closed my eyes, and just enjoyed the awesomeness of a clear winter day.
And as I opened my eyes, I noticed there was a new bar and restaurant at the Overseas Passenger Terminal. Though it’s a little expensive ($11 for a pint, mains in the $30-40 range), I’m happy to pay a surcharge for the view.
Seated near the window at James Squire Circular QuayJames Squire at Circular Quay
With a newish phone (Pixel 2), lately I’ve been taking quite a few photographs, and so whenever I see a terrific view, I’ve been snapping a shot. Here’s a couple of other terrific views.
Looking towards the city on a Saturday night, viewed from Kings CrossThe view from the thirteenth floor of the ABC building in Ultimo, Sydney
And here’s a couple of churches. One current. One former.
At the end of a “difficult week” at the ABC, there’s still much to smile about.
One of the awesome things that’s happened recently at work has been a project to make the ABC’s digitised archives more readily available internally.
For me, it means a whole bunch of my earlier work, which I thought was missing, is now available. Though I remember a couple of big stories I broke in the earlier part of my career, there’s other work I’d completely forgotten, such as a 27-minute interview with Flo Bjelke-Petersen. I was quite the angry young journalist!!
Here’s a couple of pieces from the early 1990s, which gave me a smile.
