MOVING

At long last ! – yaaaay !!

/ MR / 15 Comments

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.

You ready for this ? [grin]

/ MR / 14 Comments

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.

Phyllis and I are as one !

/ MR / 12 Comments

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 !

It pays to be tenacious !

/ MR / 27 Comments

This-morning, having bitten the bullet savagely, I wrote a polite email of cancellation to Community Housing and Horizon Housing Realty (in truth the one company) regarding their having awarded me a studio to live in.

This I did because I had to admit that the studio was simply too small to spend any amount of time living in: as Paula said, the plan makes it look more like a bedsit than a studio. Besides, I would’ve had to get rid of all my larger belongings; and I reckon I’m pared already down to the minimum.

Just after I’d begun advising various companies about cancelling arrangements I’d made, CHL came back to me with

AN OFFER I COULDN’T POSSIBLY REFUSE AND WOULDN’T IN A MILLION YEARS

which is ..

a 1-bedroom apartment facing east, on probably the 4th level, as a Victorian Housing applicant !!!!

This means paying 25% of any income, plus the rent assistance items of my pension.

They hadn’t known me to be on the Victorian Housing Register: I hadn’t told them as I had no idea it was relevant to anything. I’d just gone on sending many MR-type emails and making myself .. erhmm .. known to them; so that they didn’t have to be reminded of me when the whole VHR aspect was raised.

Yeah .. there’s been a hitch :/

/ MR / 24 Comments

On the day I went to Prahran to set eyes on the studios, I found out that they’re ALL facing directly west.

No can do. Or, should I say, no will do. Never again.

Fortunately, there are, it now turns out, a few in Building D that face south. Only remaining problem is that Building D isn’t finished yet.

It’s a good thing, to put it mildly, that in my ancient years I’ve lost most of the impatience that characterized my youthful ones.

This you ain’t gonna believe !

/ MR / 17 Comments

I GOT IT !!! – I’m IN !!!

It’s not exactly what I went for, but it’s still bloody good !!!

OK, back to the start ..

I applied to this brand-new development in Prahran for a 1-bedroom apartment. Here’s a nimage – artwork only, but more than merely sufficient for the porpoise:

Pretty neat, huh ?

Having donned shoes correct for viewing, I viewed one of those – somewhat different layout but much the same area – and fell instantly in love. Not only with the apartment, but with the gardens, the area and the team of people doing the showing (who’d be the contacts).

It all took much longer than I’d hoped; but ten minutes ago I was informed that my application has been approved – for a studio !

Whaddya reckon ??? – not your usual studio !

I’m in an NRAS place right now, and the rent is only $260pw; its owner will be able to charge more or less what he wants in June – I’m told it will be $430pw.

The rent on a 2nd floor 1-bedroom is $430, and most definitely worth it in today’s terms: split system, dishwasher, everything brand new .. Oh, you should see the landscaped gardens ..!

But the team was anxious about my move from $260 to $430 – and I will admit that they were being both thoughtful and sensible (one of the reasons I want to be where they all are !). The offer is thusly: I’m approved for a studio and expected to last in it for six months; and if I find that I’ve saved some more and still want a 1-bedroom, then I’ll be offered the first one that becomes available and that I like !

No complaints from this old broad !!

I have TENURE !!! – and for $380pw !!!

I am HAPPY !!!

So that’s it until June

/ MR / 21 Comments

I can’t move, after all: I didn’t find a place to move to in the month after which I’d told my Property Manager I would be gone.

Of all the places I found – not sure how many, but probably around a dozen – there were three I really and truly wanted: one was in the CBD, one in Malvern and one in Carlton. The first one I was rejected for without explanation – this is the bit that hurts, when they tell you no but go on advertising the place – the second I was mucked about by an expert mucker-abouter to whom I passed on that he’s una pezza di merda because he has an Italian name; and the third was the very last place I saw.

It was a dear little newish place with everything I must have – a bedroom, dishwasher and split system, and in a simply gorgeous environment of trees and plants. However ! it seems I have finally achieved a degree of common sense, for I didn’t even apply .. It is in the middle of – like, nothing. Other residential buildings, all nice and equally nicely landscaped. Not a shop in sight of any kind at all. Sure, only six or seven minutes’ walk to the tram, but one must actually travel on it to reach the Carlton shops in Lygon Street. Here all I need do to reach my delightful pharmacist is manage the ghastly intersection of Leicester, Victoria and Elizabeth Streets with their array of slow lights and Bob’s yer uncle. And I mention Cheryl’s pharmacy because an old fart of my age is in frequent need of same, just to keep up with her scripts, let alone buy hair bleach, non-soap bodywash and so forth.

And knowing me, the prospect of those unavoidable minutes of walking before being able to go anywhere would render me even more likely to sit in my lovely big recliner chair, crocheting, with Boodie between my shins.

I think these lovely little flats were designed for students who have scooters or bikes, for there is a nice big empty space just inside the front door, absolutely suitable to park one of these. Whilst I would give my back teeth to have someone teach me how to ride an e-scooter, I wouldn’t be able to count on there being one nearby whenever I needed it.

So, I turned my back on it, with great sadness. As my sister Paula and I agreed by phone, I wasn’t meant to move at this time.

What in the name of all the gods I’m going to do come the end of May –  chissà ? Something will turn up. Maybe aged care. Oh jesus  ..

Just keeping yous in the loop

/ MR / 35 Comments

So I l peer over the balcony and see THAT !! – gallons and gallons (whatever gallons are in metric measurement) of .. some liquid being poured out from left to right into the top left corner of the tank on the left – from  behind the little tree – and also from the tank on the right. Right ?

So what the fuck is going on ? What IS the yellow liquid [shudder !] and where is it going ?!

It’s travelling along that thick hose that comes out of the l.h. tank on its bottom left, curling around the blue shed thingy and going .. BACK INTO THE PIT !!!

[gasp !]

Said I would, didn’t I ..?

/ MR / 30 Comments

Yeah, it’s on again – me moving.

Showing you that I shot from my balcony.

And that is the latest version. Doubt it’s the final one.

The full intersection:  Elizabeth Street, Victoria Street and the beginning of Leicester Street – luverly, isn’t it ? There’s no end to the construction, it seems. You may begin to comprehend why I turn once more to my (other) hobby – moving.

I will keep you updated, regardless of the fact that you haven’t the slightest wish to have that happen .. and, in fact, will avert your eyes from updating posts. I am relentless: I SHALL UPDATE.

[grin]

OK, so I was pulling your leg ..

/ MR / 14 Comments

Sorry about that.

For me, mostly. Another move had to follow; and that’s two inside three weeks. Do you want to know the whole ghastly story ? .. What, you don’t ?! — too bad. Coz I’m going to tell it.

I had three nights and three days of joy and happiness in my South Yarra abode. And then it was Friday night .. That’s when I found out: the whole complex at Martin Street – both no.s 31 (5 storeys) and 35 (somewhere around 30 storeys) – seems to have been given over to the young. And NOISY. And, of course, completely uncaring about anyone but themselves. Many, many short-term stay apartments, it transpired, occupied by people under 30 who’d come up to town to party.

I realised, eventually, after managing not to go mad during the 17½ days I was there, that that entire part of South Yarra – meaning a block of two in all directions from the Toorak Rd and Chapel St intersection – was a kind of ongoing entertainment area. Everyone seemed over-dressed to me, as if on their way to or from a celebration of some kind, regardless of the hour. Young people shouted to each other and burst into song from time to time; people of both sexes walked decorated dogs on leads in numbers I hadn’t seen since Paris in 2005. Delivery trucks spent lengthy periods trying to park in impossibly small spaces (and ended double-parked while delivering, holding up trams, the drivers of which parped their tram horns endlessly and fruitlessly); and ambos were omni-present with sirens wailing and lights flashing as they zipped between vehicles and pedestrians. Some blokes must have thought they were in Muscle Beach: gays in weeny shorts that showed as much as legal of their oiled  bodies, with many silver bangles up their arms, always seemingly in a hurry and screaming into their phones .. It was a fucking MADHOUSE.

But all that was not my problem; in fact that was huge fun.

It was the people staying the the Vogue – for that was the name of the complex of the two buildings – who were intolerable. My studio was one of many in a long row on the fifth floor of both buildings (they joined somehow or other above a huge Woolies and Big W between them) with balcony separators that didn’t reach the ground – Boodie was in heaven and rushed madly from one end to the other, squeezing his delectable little bod under each one – and the walls were .. not thick enough is all I can say. Not that they would’ve helped a lot had they been so; for each studio opened out via glass doors onto the balcony and all the tenants kept their doors wide open. In keeping with the laws of the young they all screamed rather than talked, they entertained their friends in these tiny little studios, and they gave not a second’s thought to anyone but themselves. I may well have been just the same when I was their age – except for not having had a phone to shriek into whenever there was a gap in the conversation.

Not exactly my scene once the clock had ticked its way past ten pm or so. I wanted to go to bed and sleep.

And then there were the outdoor activities – OMG ..

I’d never dwelt in a complex that provides outdoor entertainment places, and I shall certainly never do so again. A tennis court in the middle distance and a sort of greensward with trees dotted here and there between it and the Vogue building; and in the middle a barbecue area. These are facilities and there to be booked by residents. During the week they’re delightful: during the weekends they’re hellish.

I have suddenly lost interest in this miserable whingeing and shall cease forthwith. I think you have the picture, right ? – a place for young people into which I, an ancient, did not fit. My Property Manager had only just taken over #512 and had no idea of its .. ahh .. site use. When I told him I couldn’t stay without needing to be hospitalised ere long he was deeply upset that I would need to spend yet more moolah on another move; and the only money I lost was 12 days of my first month’s rent, when the owner refused to refund it (scarcely surprisingly !).

So I moved AGAIN. Had to. Absolutely no choice.

I am now in another studio under the rental ægis of the same Property Manager ! He is a really cute Hong Kong Chinese man whose name is Vince, but the key point is that he is a very nice bloke. He wanted to keep me as a tenant, and I wanted to keep him as a Property Manager, and now we are both happy.    🙂   It’s grossly overpriced, being $340 pw – and that was chasing its dragon-lady owner down from $350, too. No dishwasher, just for starters ! Still, I can’t pretend that’s a major obstacle to a woman who’s called quits on cooking.

I always had a suspicion that having one’s bed in the loungeroom would be delightful, and it bloody is ! – a studio life for me !

What ..?

Oh, where am I now ..?

Back in Carlton, one of the many, many suburbs I lived in during the decade comprising my palmy days. But nowhere near University Street – on the cusp of the CBD, with the Queen Victoria Markets over the road !

And yes, I absolutely love it !!! I love waking up to being surrounded by skyscrapers. I love walking a couple of blocks to Aldi, and drooling in the window of a ‘Breadtop’ shop wherein they are constantly baking the most delicious goodies. I love lane-hopping across Leicester Street and Victoria Street and Elizabeth Street (but quite often I do wait for the lights). I love getting into any tram at QVM tram-stop and not having to use my Myki. I love watching Boodie out on the 12th storey balcony – except that I do NOT love watching him jump up onto it from the floor .. I mean, I know better than anyone that he will not fall off it; but I can’t help wincing as he jumps, and closing my eyes .. What is he was too enthusiastic in the jump ..?

Oh, mothers ! [grin]

A dear friend up in NSW sent me an SMS saying she wonders how many times I’m going to move in 2023. If I have me druthers, there will be no.more.moves.EVER.