I hope all my American friends know and will be involved in this
day. I’m looking forward to it enormously, and would give my back teeth to participate in it – anywhere !
Erasmus or Nostradamus ?
I’m back to my bad old ways. 🙂
Moving on Wednesday, 1st October. This I have no doubt will be my last rental, and that’s not being dismal, just sensible. I mean, one not only cannot but has no wish to go through what I have over the past year again – not even one more time !
I’m moving to a Melbourne suburb called Footscray: Chic was born there, but I never knew precisely where (nonetheless, that’s a very nice thing !) I know Footscray well; because when I first returned to Melbourne I spent nearly a year in a being-gentrified suburb called Maribyrnong, and trammed it to the train via Footscray-the-place to Footscray-the-station. It’s really multi-racial – Vietnamese and Chinese, mostly, with Arabic and Indian as well. The food !!! [swoon …] My favourite is Vietnamese, as when I was in Maribyrnong the building’s janitor’s wife – they were both from Vietnam – used to make extra meals for me, bring one up to my flat then come back and take away the plates !!! She it was, the gorgeous Oanh, who got me over my loathing of coriander. Her husband, the adorable Bang Pham, was the sweetest man; and the sole fly in the family ointment was their little girl – outrageously spoiled and commensurately demanding. Cute, but.
I’m longing to start over again with arranging my things. One of the best aspects will be that I have actual walls of which I can choose whichever to put my recliner against, and not have fucking reflections on my laptop screen driving me insane (as they are currently doing). I shall need to have my ground-floor balcony enclosed in bird netting so as to confine The Boodster and stop him from rushing down the yard and out onto the main road. 😦 
An only slightly historical screen-grab for you, showing my flat (bike on the balcony) from the street forming the corner with the bigger road upon which block sits my flat-block. You can see the road of my address in the left centre.
I am so thrilled about this move, with my removal from vomit on pristine walkways, shopping trolleys filled with garbage, gardens choked with detritus— shut up, M-R ! Anyway, you get the picture. I am, I say, so thrilled that I shall entertain myself with describing my development of my final home. Here, I mean. You do not need to keep up; just accept that I’m truly happy … happier than I’ve been since my third move in Geelong to St Albans Park, and that was many years ago.
… what I’ve been occupied with.
Well, my American friends would be interested, and so would my friend Hev. But the rest of you couldn’t care less, I suspect, when told. And that’s not good, because what’s currently driving my rage is going to affect all of us.
I wish I could flood the Internet with it ! Obama became my all-life political hero when first I started reading about his candidature for the Presidency – that’s a fair span of years (even though a fraction in comparison with my total). He is readily acknowledged by everyone who is not a tRumper to be by far the best President in living memory. And the mad bad man, surrounded by lickspittles and followers-only-for-a-purpose (looking at you, JD) can simply remove the portrait because he hates Obama more than anyone, and not a soul in the White House raises an eyebrow.
I’m following two Substacks: one is by American historian of note Heather Cox Richardson and the other by Robert Reich, who has so many titles and past occupations – “Robert Bernard Reich is an American professor, author, lawyer, and political commentator. He worked in the administrations of presidents Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter, and he served as secretary of labor in the cabinet of President Bill Clinton” – as to almost defy listing ’em. The former’s Substack lays out exactly what’s happening on a daily basis in terms that make you understand her being an historian; and the latter— well, his latest post is this. He posts all manner of things, all in some way positive.
And I’m commenting fairly often on both. (Yes, there have indeed been some blokes who decided they wanted to ‘befriend’ me; but they were easily put off and just went away. They all, btw, protested that my being 82 did not affect their desire to chat. I think there are lots of lonely people …) When I shut down the laptop to go to bed, I wonder how many likes and return comments there will be in the morning: that’s sort of fun.
tRump’s insane tariffs have already started affecting Oz, and they’re not going to improve trade any time soon.
But in truth, it’s America that’s breaking my heart: country of Obama’s 16-year stint as the President whose employment as such was mostly joyful. It was certainly filled with intelligence, grace, charm, humour, music and deep thinking. For that, so recent and so memorable (in spite of Mitch McConnell) to be now replaced with the police state that’s almost there … the anger, the cruelty, the carelessness of everything except power and money … I don’t have the words.
Do you remember this ?
It was my last failure. I wanted to try making a cardigan from cuff to cuff; but I didn’t keep the edges straight, so I frogged it entirely.
This is how it’s (almost) currently looking, but that it now has a biiiiig cowl neck added, and I’ve run out of yarn for finishing the other sleeve. Must await ordered ball. This is a pattern I bought – the last:
This is the stitch, which I positively enjoyed doing: it’s called Closed V-stitch, in case anyone asks:
And here’s something I would be really happy with were it not for the horrible yarn. I ordered 8-ply from Oz Yarns, and what they sent me – indeed being the yarn on their lists that I ordered – was 10-ply and almost 12-ply. Bloody bulky.
So bulky is it that I couldn’t use my favourite stitch pattern for the sleeves as well as for the body and had to change down to dc for the neckline in order to set up matching fabric. Why I’m happy with it is that I now have a template – as it were – to make another in real DK yarn.
Please note the side stripes, done so that I could crochet the sleeves in the round and not have to join the underneaths. I was tickled pink with how this worked; and it’ll look brilliant in a single colour !
Here’s a quick jumper done in that lovely stitch, using horrible Mandala (never never again !):
My cousin’s lady saw me wearing it and claimed she would like a colourful one with green as the main shade – hence the above sweater.
This one was made to get rid of the very nice to work with but over-loud yarn. I wear it with a pink under-thing; although it could be worn with any of those colours.
I haven’t added my off-white cardi. I should, as it’s part of this tranche of crochet. I’ll take a shot of it when Boodie gets up off my lap.
You see clearly that my lack of creativity as a designer makes me rely on the yarns and the stitches for variation …
I dunno that this is something anyone other than easily-irritated old broads think about. It’s definitely a current syndrome: authors writing fiction a good while back didn’t indulge.
But today’s writers, imnsho, do so with impunity. Which is to say, only this e.-i. o. b. (see above) appears to notice.
The characters can read minds: they know what other characters are thinking.
They can also read expressions.
They never fail to get it right.
In fact, novels actually depend upon this amazing ability; and if you refer to anything current – meaning written in your lifetime – you will find it portrayed often.
As most of you know, I don’t read but listen to audiobooks: maybe that’s why I notice.
And maybe that’s why I write in the first person: it’s not just that I’m an egomaniac, but that I cannot read anyone’s mind and have never been able to and am awfully happy with this lack.
No, not these roots that are white(ish) once again —
(and look ! – I’m showing you my shellacked nails, that actually needed to be filed right down so as to be same height as my fingers coz otherwise I couldn’t do anything !) but my … ahhh … occupational roots.
Which is to say, I think I remember starting up my blog again, however many years ago it was, with the intention of devoting it to crochet. Possibly knitting as well, back then; but I don’t do that any more on account of hand arthritis. Well, I MEAN ! – just look at those ancient hands … Sighh … But also grrrrrrrrrr ! owing to the fucking blood-thinners I am told I must take, which make all veins stick out like dogs’ balls. Stringer taught me that one: blame him. [grin]
ANYWAY … Here’s what I’m rabbiting on about:
I was seized suddenly with a desire to make a cardi from one cuff to the other. I know I’ve seen several of these designs on YouTube, but if you think I could find a single one for reference, you’re wrong. So I had to work out the number for meself. Simple, eh ?
Nup. Far from. For a start, the cuff circumference has to be set by drawing an imaginary straight line up from the ‘edge’ of my somewhat gigantic hips as I see in the mirror, straight-on, which is because they are my widest point (scarcely surprisingly !) and the width of the front and back panels is reflected in that measurement. This means that the length of the sleeves is going to be measured from that same imaginary line to the cuff, not from the point of the shoulder. And you should try getting that point without anyone to hold the tape-measure !!!
Once that’s done there are all the other sums to be worked out, but they’re all just a matter of logic.
Here’s a better shot:
and you don’t need to have it explained why … but there’s my constant companion, the Boodster, shedding fur and being curious.
It looks unbalanced, but that’s one of the many failings of my detested phone, the Oppo somethingorother: not possible to get a shot wherein an object isn’t stretched in at least one dimension. I assure you(se) that both horizontal edges are … horizontal.
Having discovered a second yarn I LOVE working with – the first being Lion Brand Mandala Ombre – which is Fiddlesticks Superb 8 Prints (no idea what the solid colour yarns are like), the next one will be a jumper, with ribbing added afterwards. The challenge there will be the neck-hole, and how to make a roll-neck. Much studying of others’ patterns, I hope !
I’m going carnivore.
Yep, full carnivore – no plant material of any kind. Just meat, meat products like bone broth, and eggs. My only dairy will be the raw milk I have in my coffee – for I sure as anything cannot go without my coffee !
I’m planning to start on Monday, and will organize myself and my kitchen and pantry in the meantime.
You are probably wanting to shout at me “You’re kidding, right ? – how do you think you’re ever going to be able to afford it ?!!”, and there is some justification in that cynical question. But when you consider that these items are ALL that will be in my shopping lists – nothing else except the raw milk and possibly mineral water – you’ll realize that it won’t be as prohibitively costly as you first think. Besides, I don’t intend to be buying grass-fed Cape Grim: it’s unnecessary to consider as a carnivore that one must eat quality meat. No: I mean to visit the QV Market and do a lot of comparison note-taking. Also Aldi !
THE RATIONALE:
As some may recall, I’m a convert – a fanatical one – to the medical opinions of a Scottish GP who works in the UK, Malcolm Kendrick. Kendrick’s best book is “The Great Cholesterol Con”; and I believe unhesitatingly that anyone who reads it (not skipping through it, mind !) and is not convinced by his arguments and facts is a complete fool.
However, the worldwide medical fraternity is very foolish indeed – or perhaps I might describe it as being unwilling to backtrack and show itself up as having espoused for half a century belief in a deeply flawed view, conceived by a VERY deeply flawed medico who cherry-picked some countries from a much larger number in order to publish on his pre-conceived views. There it is: ‘research’ carried out to support a theory !
OK: the porpoise here is to point out that, while there are many doctors around the world who agree entirely with Kendrick, in the English-speaking world there is such opprobrium piled on his proven viewpoint that individual doctors are not prepared to come out and admit to their being so controversial. In Oz, the AMA has virtually threatened to strike off any doctor not toeing the line regarding cholesterol and its evil partner, statins, as treatment.
And since I absolutely refuse to have anything to do with the belief in cholesterol’s being in any way harmful, or to ever in my life agree to taking (ugh !) statins, I have no doctor who can care for my health according to my convictions.
So it’s up to me ! – gonna care for it myself.
STOP PRESS !
“it’s not the AMA (the doctors’ union) which is now down to just over 30% of doctors being members that GPs need to worry about. It’s AHPRA (Australian Health Practitioners Registration Authority) which can instantly deregister any doctor”
My bad: I had been told that, but forgot. (I can forget anything at 30 paces …)
Been doing a lotta that.
After the eventual issue of the interview shot by the Homes Victoria cameraman – https://www.instagram.com/p/C8Wfa_8BSlD/ – you’d think the world had seen and heard enough of me to last a bloody lifetime ! But no: today I went into the offices of my beloved Care Services Provider, Aunty Grace, to do another.
Anyone who’s known me for any length of time – and by ‘known’ I mean via blog as well as corporeally (is that a word ?) – is already clear on the fact that I can not only talk the hind leg off a donkey, but both hind legs and the tail too. Probably the entire second half, from behind its front legs backwards.
But my Aunty Grace friends gave me flowers, the dear hearts;
and not only flowers, but an EFTPOS Aunty Grace card to spend. You can readily understand why I’m so stuck on them. 🙂
Wondering if I should let Homes Victoria know, in a subtle-hint kind of way. [grin]
What should I buy myself ? I’m thinking some more Audible items – around eight more books ! But in truth I’d like something that related better back to my Aunty … can’t think of what.
In truth, I’m just commenting on the fact that grumpy old women can have pretty good lives, all told. Only the one complaint: how to eat a protein-packed but v. low-cal lunch every day … Oh, two (I lied): where to find a doctor who shares my thinking on cholesterol ?!
Yeah, the move is done. And so am I, but only pro tem – and that’s largely due to last Friday morning, when the whole development was officially … ahh … opened, I guess, by the Federal and the State Ministers for Housing and a couple of Members to back ’em up. That’s not forgetting the staff, the dozens and dozens of people whose companies and departments are associated. In other words, it was a shitfight, but a most delightful one. 🙂
434 newly built homes ready for residents to move in Prahran
I have still to do a camera interview for Housing Victoria the week after next. As to why in the name of any god you can think up that is to happen, it’s because, believe it or not, ’twas I who featured all throughout this official do. The two Ministers – terrific women both ! – hung on to me throughout the morning; and the only time I wasn’t in their company was when each was speaking at a press conference … but I had been kind of fed along the line to stand very close, even then; and it turned out that the reason for my being kept nearby was that I HAD TO SPEAK, TOO. [gasp !]
I feel as if there wasn’t a single moment when someone was saying “M-R, when did you move in ?” / “M-R, what d’you think of it ?” / “M-R, which level are you on ?” / “M-R !”— you get the picture. I was so exhausted that I had a moment of weirdness in the middle and had to go out onto a garden deck and just sit for five minutes while everyone was inspecting an empty apartment to see what one was like. But that was fine, because a most yummy bloke (Mark, his name is) kept me company in a very kind and sweet way, to ensure I was OK. All the men were luverly, btw: there was John and Richard and Grant and Al, not forgetting the afore-mentioned Mark, and they were all high up in either some corporation or some department or some off-shoot of a department or an elected person ! I don’t waste my time with nobodies !!! [grin]
And then about a dozen of the uppermost came to inspect MY apartment ! Harriet, the State Minister, promised to send me a framed photo of she, Julie – the Federal Minister – and me. She has said whichever frame is chosen will be the nicest one. Ve shell zee … 🙂 The Boodster was seen briefly as he checked out the crowd coming in and disappeared into the bedroom wardrobe; and it turns out that both Harriet and Julie are cat people and I should’ve known because they are so nice ! I did tell everyone that if any of ’em have a spot in their garden/s that gets morning sun, they’re mad if they don’t get a cactus orchid to put there, and they were all impressed by Phyllis. Harriet knew enough to ask if this isn’t the night bloomer with the scent ?
The press conference followed, on a rooftop garden in the next building, and then it was all over. I sat down again on the edge of a garden, and those two gorgeous women came to sit by me. I asked if they’d be trained to speak as they did – meaning that each was able to speak for 5-7 minutes without repeating herself or saying “Umm …” once ! They said no, it was something you just picked up, and both claimed to have made vile addresses when they began. I don’t believe them.
Oh … I forgot to say that not only – at the start of the whole shebang, when people were still turning up and the numbers were growing exponentially (!) but it seemed that everyone knew who I was ! – I had turned to my left to find standing next to me a most beautiful young woman with a wonderful smile and a quiet manner and voice. “And”, says I, “who are you ?” “I’m … ahh … the Federal Minister”, Julie replied, entirely unoffended and in fact delighted to have been “incognito”. A short time later, when I was as ever being addressed by several people at once and another good-looking young woman joined us, I was telling this appalling story; and this one smiled widely, causing me to ask her name, too. Yep, you guessed it: Harriet is the Victorian Minister. Only I could do this not once but twice, and within the space of minutes. 😦
I do have some photos, and I also have some photos of my WONDERFUL apartment. But I’m waiting for my dresser to arrive so that the bedroom can be properly furnished before I put them online.
As for the photos of the opening, I think I might spend some more time sorting through the limited selection I have, in case any better ones turn up (which I’m hoping will happen). So for now, just accept that this is by far the best rental I have ever been in, run by the nicest group of people.
Look carefully and you will see how Phyllis is bursting with buds. I counted 15 ten minutes ago, and I’ll bet I missed some. She’s already had two blossoms.
This is amazing because before I came here (February 13th) and was finally able to position her with morning sun, she had sad, wrinkled leaves that looked as tired as I did. Not even a suggestion of a bloom: I was worried that all energy was spent.
But now … well, she’s showing you how I feel about being here; because if I could have blossoms on me in the right environment, they would be putting their beautiful heads out just like Phyllis’.
She’s a cactus orchid: an epiphyllum oxypetalum; and this is what she’s going to look like (only better, of course !):
Not only are her night-time blooms divine, they also smell divine !!!
Frankly, anyone who has any spot that gets morning sun and who hasn’t yet added a cactus orchid to it … well, yer bonkers. I have spoken.
And btw: this post is to stave off more whinges about my lack of The New Place info. I’ve been REALLY busy with setting it up; and on Friday morning both the Federal and the State Ministers for Housing are visiting us with entourage, and I shall be kind of pushed in their direction to welcome them and rabbit on about how terrific this place is. There will be media.
Can I do it ? – of course I can. Do I want to do it ? – I want to do anything at all that will be a gesture of thanks to the people here, who helped me in so many ways.
It is truly special. Just like Phyllis !
DOWNUNDER WITH BOODZ 