Though they made me cry, there are some wonderful photographs of Lismore in the current “Australian Life” exhibition in Sydney’s Hyde Park.
I’ve been going to this annual exhibition for as long as I can remember. From time to time, I’ve even toyed with the idea of entering a photograph. Some years the exhibition is excellent, other times not so. But this year’s show really touched me.
As part of my current narrative – “that many people have stopped thinking about/worrying about the terrible disaster of this year” – it always gives me great heart to see images of Lismore that help remind people of what happened, and these photographs really help keep the story alive.
Lost Worlds by Natalie GronoAntoinette by Elise Derwin
After five weeks on the road – work/life – it’s nice to be back home and to reacquaint myself with life in Sydney.
The flight back to Sydney is always spectacular.
The thing that hit me most on Saturday night was the “silence” of being back at home. Though you would assume life in Darwin and Lismore would be much quieter than in the centre of Sydney (where I live). But I actually live on a very quiet street, and the silence of my lounge room on Saturday night was almost deafening.
The next thing I noticed was the new “Village Voices” artwork in the laneway near home. Such a beautiful piece.
One of the things I’ve noted previously was how people who’ve bought coffee/tea at a nearby cafe have treated the artwork in such a disgraceful manner, treating it as a garbage bin, even though an actual garbage bin was only metres away.
Hopefully, the new garbage bin will make a difference?
Also on the weekend, I popped in to see an art installation at Taylor Square. The work concerns the impact of industrialisation on different locations in the modern world.
Public art installation at Taylor Square, Darlinghurst.
In previous years I might have been interested in the imagery, but to be frank, it didn’t do a lot for me. My interests in art have changed a little. But nonetheless, it was great to see some public art on display, back in my neighbourhood.
Swedish class resumed tonight. With one exception, it’s a whole new class. This time around, we have the usual group of people with Swedish connections, but we also have a bloke whose interests include Swedish folk music and mythology.
I was a little pressed for time this week, and lacking a little imagination, wrote a short piece about how everyone I know is going to Sweden this year, except me.
Mina vänner ska resa till Sverige.
2010, ska många vänner och kollegor resa till Sverige.
Min vän Patrick var i Stockholm för en vecka sedan. Han och hans vän Sam tillbringade några dagar i skärgården och ett par dagar i Stockholm. Vädret var varmt och de hade simmt i skärgården. De gick också på en del konserter, bland annat Allsång på Skansen.
Min vän Graeme ska åka till Stockholm i två veckor för Stockholm Pride. Han kommer att stanna hos sin kompis Gustav. Han kommer att närvara vid många konserter, bland annat Schlagerkväll på torsdag. I programmet finns också diskussionen om livet i Sydney, så jag tror att han kommer att delta i det också.
I oktober ska Grant åka till Stockholm för konserter med Peter Jöback.
Mina kollegor reser också till Sverige. Min kollega Carrie ska åka till sitt föräldrahem till jul. Min kollega Michael ska åka till Stockholm för att se sin flickvän i november.
Jag känner många som reser till Stockholm. Men inte jag!
Translated this means…
In 2010, shall many of my friends and colleagues travel to Sweden.
My friend Patrick was in Stockholm a week ago. He and his friend Sam spent a few days in the archipelago and a few days in Stockholm. The weather was hot and they swam in the archipelago. They also went to some concerts, including the “Sing-along at Skansen”.
My friend Graeme will travel to Stockholm for two weeks for Stockholm Pride. He will stay with his friend Gustav. He will attend many concerts, including the “Schlager Evening” on Thursday. The program also features discussion about life in Sydney, so I think he will also go to that,
In October, Grant will travel to Stockholm for concerts by Peter Jöback.
My colleagues shall also travel to Sweden. My colleague Carrie will go to her parents home for Christmas. My colleague Michael will go to Stockholm to see his girlfriend in November.
I know many people who shall travel to Stockholm. But not me!
Next week’s homework is to a) write about my favourite city and b) write about my childhood…
It’s Thursday afternoon. Another blisteringly hot day in Lismore. I’ve neither eaten nor drunk water for several days now. There is no moisture left in my body to produce sweat. I am near death. I am sure I will surely die. OK, so maybe that’s a little melodramatic, but it’s still bloody hot in Lismore. The only place providing adequate respite is Lismore Shopping Square. Gotta love that aircon!
Actually, I did get out a bit earlier this week. On Tuesday, Sue, Paul, Kerry and I spent the day travelling around the North Coast on a food and beverage fest. We started off at the Brunswick Heads Hotel. In the last twenty years or so, Brunswick Heads hasn’t really changed that much. While it’s nearby sister-village of Byron Bay has taken off as an international destination, Brunswick Heads remains a quiet family-oriented holiday destination. That said, property values are pretty high.
Brunswick Heads
The Bruno is a good pub with a great beer garden. We had above-average standard pub fair underneath a wonderful shaded tree, although the service was a little slow. I ran into a colleague, Fiona at the pub, and we had a nice little chat before heading off for afternoon tea at a nearby cafe.
While sitting outside the local newsagent we noticed a throng of drunken young men wandering past. With shades of Cronulla, two of them had “AUS” (short for Australian) written on their stomachs. When we realised there was no evidence of violence, we decided they were all too young, drunk and silly for words and didn’t think too much about it. Though we did notice there were no police in sight!
With hunger pains returning, we though the Bangalow Pub would be a good mid-point for all of us to have dinner. Gathering a couple of beers, we headed into the comfortable booths in the backbar to peruse the dinner menu, which, frankly held little appeal. While the menu offered all manner of “jus” and “confit” we were probably thinking more along the lines of “Honey King Prawns”, and so passed up the delights of Bangalow, choosing instead the Mandarin Palace in Lismore.
For people of a certain age, the Mandarin Palace was often their first adult dining experience. With its offer of “Australian & Chinese Meals”, the Mandarin Palace recognises you shouldn’t confuse customers with the choice of cutlery or chopsticks. The menu, the decor, nothing had changed since the last time I went there on Boxing Day three or four years ago. Indeed, the waitress serving us was the same waitress who’d severed us twenty years ago.
But aside from that great adventure, it’s just life at home with the family, although I might wander out tonight to the aforementioned pub, The Winsome. It’s quite good fun, actually, as we have a new child in the family, Sammuel, who is crawling around the house at a rate of knots, is attempting to stand up, and loves nothing more than splashing about (and I mean splashing about) in his little swimming pool.
I’ll be back in Sydney on Saturday night and will post my “Year In Review” then. I’m not sure if it will be anything profound. I’m not sure if it will really live up to the title “Year In Review”. But I’ve been doing it for the last four years on this website, which I guess is far preferential than printing it off and mailing it to all my friends.
So far no one in my family has actually come out and said, “Are you trying to grow a beard?”. They’re too polite. Or maybe they just haven’t noticed?
Yes you do have to look quite hard at the photograph, don’t you? Even though I started shaving quite young, my beard is patchy at best, especially along the sides, and so have remained clean-shaven most of my life.
“Have you ever considered a goatie?”, a friend asked me on the phone tonight when I told her I was toying with the idea of a beard, though noting the lack of cheek-fuzz. “Oh no”, I told her. I’ve always thought sculptured facial hair would involve too much time in front of the mirror. Think George Michael and Craig David. On the other hand, I think those bush-ranger beards which are all the go at the moment suggest a decided lack of personal care.
And then there’s the issue of food-scraps. As you’ll notice from the accompanying photograph, I have enough trouble with vegemite, chocolate and other bits of food already getting caught in the corners of my mouth, without the added risk of a beard catching even more.
That’s not really a beard. And I think that’s pickles in the corner of my mouth.
So even though beards have recently become fashionable once again, and even though I’ve had ample opportunity in my life to try one out, I’ve resisted the temptation for all of the reasons above.
In the last week, however, something’s happened and I’m re-assessing my opposition to beards, and am currently in the process of “trying one out”.
Like most things in life, it all happened without too much forethought. It all has to do with the fact I left my shaving cream and razor back in Sydney. It certainly wasn’t intentional on my part, but when I got to Lismore last Wednesday and realised what I’d done, I merely shrugged my shoulders and resigned myself to picking up replacements later in the week. I never did.
And so here it is, six days later, and I have the start of a beard. Yes, I know what you’re thinking – it looks messy, and nothing more than a three-day growth. But for me, it’s quite substantial, and there’s even a bit of fuzz on the sides. After two or three days of not shaving, I’m normally scratching, and can’t wait to return to my clean-shaven self. But at the moment I’m feeling okay, so I’ve decided to try it out a bit further.
Two days later, more ginger.
“Three or four weeks is needed” according to the internet research I’ve done. That’s enough time for an individual to assess how they feel about facial hair, but also to see if the gaps between the hairy bits and the smooth bits begin to even out. The interwebz told me that if I let my beard grow for three or four weeks, and then trim it back, the difference between the lighter and heavier patches isn’t as great.
Although of course there are genetic issues that come into play – I’m light-skinned, fair-haired, lightly-haired Irish heritage mostly – you can apparently help the beard along by paying attention to your nutrition. Eating bananas works, apparently, (it’s the Zinc) as does a vitamin supplement called Biotin. There are also theories the hair replacement drug, Rogaine, might also work, though there have been no studies to prove this. But I’ll give the Biotin a go to see if it can help things along a little bit.
And yes, I’m aware of the greys. But hey, I’m 47 years old and have grey hair, so a couple of greys here and there in a beard isn’t enough to cause sleep loss. And besides… I’m a man. Men look distinguished with greys, don’t they? :) :) :)
Anyway, I’m thinking I’ll give myself until the middle or end of January to see how it all plays out. And then, after trimming, if it no longer looks like a moth-ridden carpet, I’ll keep it.
As the people of Sweden slept, we sat and waited and waited and waited.
From time to time, as we enjoyed the brilliant conversation, excellent company and a soundtrack of both this and last year’s “Melodifestivalen”, we checked online from time to time without success. Even by late afternoon there was still no sign of “Andra Chansen”.
This was the third year in a row a group of us have gathered at a Sydney pub to watch Melodifestivalen, the Swedish finals leading to Eurovision.
Last year I was, of course, in Sweden for actual final and called my friends long-distance at about three o’clock in the morning. “Here, Patrick, you talk to him… he sounds drunk” was a phrase I recall from the night.
This year it was all a bit different with Gustav visiting us from Sweden. And so we decorated the pub with yellow and blue streamers and balloons.
Six hours of Swedish pop was about enough, with festivities ending up about seven, and still there was no sign of “Andra Chansen” showing up.
In the grand scheme of things, I guess it didn’t matter so much, since we all had already heard the songs, and most of us knew the result.
And the real point of the day was a fun catch-up with friends, anyway.
“When was the last time we came here?”, Damo asked me over dinner last night. Looking back through my blog this morning, I see that it was January 2008 when we last ate at “Spice I Am”.
The big news of that night was that I had just booked an extended overseas holiday. Co-incidentally, Damo and his girlfriend Kristen (who joined us for dinner last night) are about to book their own extended overseas holiday. How’s that for unintended synchronicity?
While our lives may have changed just a bit since January 2008, I’m pleased to say “Spice I Am” hasn’t changed all that much.
“Wasn’t the furniture pretty dodgy back then?, Damo went on to observe as we left the restaurant last night. I don’t recall much about the furniture, but I do remember the food was excellent, if perhaps a little spicy for my tastes at the time. But hey, it is called “Spice I Am”.
Spice I Am - Soft-shell crab
As with the last time we ate there, we gulped down the rice-paper rolls and the soft-shelled crab. But we also added the Massaman duck curry and pork belly to the meal. Although the last time we were there, I thought the rice-paper rolls were pretty amazing, they didn’t really overwhelm me this time. I thought they were okay. But that didn’t matter so much as the rest of the meal was excellent.
Maybe my tastes have changed/become more used to spicy food? Maybe it was the careful removal of some of the more obvious pieces of chilli? Or maybe they’ve toned down the spices a little since 2008, but I wasn’t overwhelmed by the spicey-ness this time, as I was briefly last time.
Great service – (our twenty minute wait turned into five) – great prices, great location, and it was thus a perfect way to start off Friday night. I must make sure to visit again soon and not leave it three and a half years again.
A trip to Canberra is not complete without a trip to Parliament House. Like everyone else today, I marvelled at the architecture and the symbolism of the design. But I suspect I might have been the only one who went for a wander in the nearby bushland. I really love how Parliament House is surrounded by Australian native plants. Here’s a few of the photographs I took earlier today.
