life during wartime

I dreamed I taught David Byrne how to dance.

sunshine-y days

Beers in Edinborough Gardens. Tried to start a battle between a fixie gang, some low-rider punks and a bunch of hula-hooping hippies. No luck. But I did have a vigorous game of boules.

get me one of those warm things

We recently got a subscription to The New Yorker*. Which is pretty much wasted on me as I really only read the cartoons. (Sam Shepard has a short story in there? Whatevs - check out this sketch about a man buying an dachshund. HILARIOUS!)

However, within its pages I have discovered a whole new genre of reading: New Yorker ads! These 4cm x 3cm B&W proclamations are probably some of the most entertaining and curious reading I have ever come across.** The latest issue attempts lure me into buying a 'Warm Thing', a fairly shapeless robe on which I can save 20% off right now. I have also learned that the Saratoga Lamp Co. (a kind of tea light holder manufacturer) is now taking orders for Christmas, and that 'the perfect gift' this year is 'the original brass Blo-Poke - THE essential fireplace tool'.

Reading them is like travelling back to a time when women clipped their fancy clothes from the pages of a mail order catalogue and chimney sweeps were 8 year old kids in charmingly patched baker boy caps. They just make me want to take to town with a diamond topped cane and monocle and make wry jokes about chambermaids to my fellow elite.

*Ooh, look at us and our intellectual posturing.
**As indicated by the first paragraph I really don't read that much.

hiss...

As we rode through North Melbourne today, Lankwood almost fell off his bike when he saw a guy picking up a long, long, long snake from the grass of a small median strip.

'Pish!' I said. 'You were imagining it. He was just holding a long stick ... or a hose.'

'Posh!' Lankwood said. 'I will prove it.'

And he did. As we cycled back we saw the man had not one, but two long, long, long snakes that he appeared to be 'walking' (or sliding?). Turns out he does so twice a week. He lets them get some sun, lets them have a little slither in the grass and lets them scare the crap out of passing inner-city cyclists.

this just makes me feel good

Created by Tom DesLonchamp

spied

Our street just keeps giving this week. On my way to the op shop I spied an old man, dressed neatly in shades of brown, carrying a very large chess set into the community centre.

why?

Left the house this morning in time to see a schoolgirl pick her way from the front door of her house, to the middle of the street to retrieve a single shoe. Did her little brother, watching from the door, throw it there? Did she throw it out in a raging protest against the prospect of another miserable day in a classroom? Does she just keep her shoes on the road? My questions go unanswered.

jenny

when it wasn't so warm

hi-diddly-ho neighbour-roonie

Just hit that 'Next Blog>>' button at the top of the page for the first time. Weird. It's like looking into your neighbours' windows at night. Turns out I'm blogging next door to lady who has made floral cake decorations her life's work.

baby, it's hot outside

I'm sitting in darkness at our dining room table, trying to escape the heat. But I can feel it pressing in against the windows and on our tin roof. It's 10 am and 32 degrees. This summer is going to burn.

scribble me

fairy bread and burger rings

Got thrown a party by a bunch of 10 and 11 year olds today. It was awesome. We ate fairy bread, homemade mint slice and popcorn. Then we all got a little hyperactive and ran around in circles. Then we tried to calm down. Then one kid stuck a Burger Ring up his nose. I think he might have eaten it afterwards. Then we went outside and rested. It was a good day.

two for a dollar

three things

I'm feeling a little under pressure at the moment and sometimes it seems like my mind is just set to spin cycle; churning the same old ideas around and around.

But the other day there were a few things that cheered me up immensely.

1. Walking with Lankwood down our street to pick up take-away Indian food, just as a cool change came through.
2. Seeing some kids dressed with white sheets over their heads, trick-or-treating for Halloween. The house they were leaving decorated with jack o' lanterns.
3. Watching a thunderstorm through our screen door and feeling the mist from the rain tickling the hairs on my arm.

wait a second ...

Why do I not own these things?


Insta-tough bronze glam leather jacket.


Hello cute red tie and grey suit.


Awesome vase/teapcup dress.

sydney, melbourne ... and a photo

Even though I won't admit it to any Melbournians (an old and loved chip on my shoulder), Melbourne is actually a very lovely city. So lovely that it semi-regularly entices my wonderful Sydney friends away from their blue harbour and one way streets for a visit. Coming from a town that by 5pm Friday is overrun by barely post-pubescent boys in grey suits, white loafers and faux-hawks, Melbourne's mysterious cobbled laneways and myriad of almost-secret bars is very appealing to Sydneysiders. (I know - it's why we moved here)

A sweet byproduct of this Melbourne pull is that they come and stay with us and for a few days I get to pretend that we are not 963 km* apart, but in fact close neighbours hanging out at each others places. Or at least our place. And so when this occurs I like to celebrate our neighbourly lounging with some pics. Like this one of Mala. Alas, my photography skills were not honed on the day and the dappled effect is more shadow than light. But the sun across her sleepy face makes me feel like this was just another lazy afternoon hanging out with friends, which is nice.

Also, the shoes and the broom match.

*I googled this fact.

mirror man

Today I saw a man in a mirrored jacket walking down the street outside my work and instead of it making me happy, it made me sad.

mellow yellow fundraiser

F-L-A-S-H daisy!

that's punny!

So part of organising a fundraiser is doing some amazing, eye-catching posters on the cheap. I am failing at this miserably. BUT Lankwood and I are having fun coming up with names for the gig. As unrepentant lovers of puns, the rich world of literature has provided us a with a smorgasbord of possibilities. Among our favourites are:

1. A Clockwork Pigeon
2. The Day of the Pigeons
3. A Tale of Two Pigeons
4. The Pigeon in the Rye
5. Where the Wild Pigeons Are
6. The Very Hungry Pigeon
7. Tomorrow When the Pigeons Began
8. Charlie and the Pigeon Factory
9. It was the best of Pigeons, it was the worst of Pigeons
10. The night Max wore his Pigeon suit

Then there's the book covers ...

pigeons pigeons EVERYWHERE!

Pigeons are taking over the world. Or at least Melbourne. Or, okay, maybe just our lives. But, and call me self-centered, it feels like the world.

Not only has Lankwood been talking up a feathery Pigeons storm on the radio, we are also organising a fundraiser for late in October. So while this will mean some extra dollars to print the book and throw a launch party for the kids and authors, it also means that I get to meet the guys from Suitcase Royale. *small crush*

I told you kids' literacy projects are fun!

One of the best parts of this experience has been meeting new people who are equally motivated by working with kids, writing and books ... or maybe it's just the beers we buy them. We're very inspired by the creativity and enthusiasm of the people helping us out and it really keeps the project rolling. So right now I need to give big props to Lowbrow Productions aka Jacquie and Rachel the talented girls who are helping us to pull this fundraiser together. Lowbrow are HOT!

yellow submarines and 60s dive suits

Tonight I wish I was a member of the Calypso; smoking a pipe with Jacques Costeau and sailing the oceans of the world. Sometimes I would be wearing a fetching yellow-striped wetsuit. Sometimes I would be playing with the boat's dachshund. But most of the time I would be soaking up the sun, enjoying the beauty of nature and marveling at what lies beneath. All while modeling an eye-catching red beanie perched atop my head.

when inertia strikes

My list of things to do is as long as my arm but when I sit in front of my computer ready to work, inertia floods over me. Instead of crossing things off my list I stare blankly at my screen or take yet another look at one of the ridiculous fashion blogs I am addicted to.

Now it is night and my list of things to do lies unmarked beside me. Evidence of my remorse for a wasted day.

I think I'll go read a book.

weekend nothing

Aside from a brief sidestep into a cocktail bar, my weekend has largely been about procrastination and psyching myself.

flash!

I find myself falling in love with black and white flash photography. I never did much with flash at uni (it wasn't cool unless it provided moments of illumination at last night's party) That, and it's a bitch to print in the dark room. But when I dug out my much neglected Hassleblad, I also rediscovered my old flash unit and have been trying to work out how to fire it with my little digi. So far no love.

But I have been using the little pop-up one on my camera to take photos of trees and sticks in the dark. I like the tension the circle of light, falling suddenly into blackness, creates.

Somewhat less evocative, it also reminds me of some highschool guy flashing a moonie at a backyard party.

sky fails

It's cold outside. Cold and windy and forcing me to be inside, which is pissing me off. Normally this wouldn't be the case as there is nothing I like better than sitting around inside on a cold day, doing nothing in particular. Today though, it shits me because while it is cold and windy outside, it is also sunny. And I hate being indoors when it is sunny outdoors. The sunniness though, is nothing but a deceptive lure to get me out of the house. I fell for it earlier when I ventured out to the markets. The wind whipped around me, creeping into the gaps between my scarf and jacket. The icy chill turned my fingers numb, making it difficult to tell if the avocados I squeezed were ripe or not. Foolishly, I wore no boots and my toes found no warmth in the tips of my brogues.

For a moment it looked like the sun might have gotten the hint and given over to some rain. But all we got were three lonely drops on the tin roof before the clouds hurried on. The sunlight sneakily returning to reveal the dust and cat hair on my computer screen. And so I have resigned myself to spending the afternoon pushed up against the heater, making up names for our temporary cat and trying to motivate myself to work, while outside a false summer's day shines on.

Here is a picture of the sky as I wish it would look:

dull monday set free

My dull Monday was lifted by the joy of listening to a mix tape made just for me. Then the phone rang.

button up

I have just a bit going on at the moment as Pigeons, the not-for-profit kid's writing project Lankwood and I are coordinating starts in just 1 week. I'm a little buzzed about the amount of work to be done but when I look at the shiny goodness of these buttons it all feels okay.

want

About 3 years ago I stopped buying new clothes, limiting my sartorial spending to my local op shops and vintage stores instead. This was no grand statement against fashion (who would listen to a girl known to shop at Best&Less for her evening wear?) but more because I couldn't fight the whingey, tight-arse, greenie voice that kept muttering at me every time I eyed off some sparkly new item in Myers. I swear each time I pulled my credit card out of my wallet I would see a giant blue whale choking on a sequined cocktail dress while a small child in China, his hands bleeding from stitching a pair of cheap patent leather pumps, looked on and Chrissy Hynde sang 'I'll stand by you' in the background. So strong was the image I would be forced to run from the counter, seeking the shelter of the nearest Oxfam store to subdue the middle-class consumer guilt building inside of me.

And so I stopped buying things that hadn't been loved and then tossed by someone before me.

But while I get a small amount of retail therapy each time I unearth some sweet, sweet brogues or a cute check dress at the Salvos, I still turn to the web and the orgy of window shopping it offers, to sate my need for new. So in the torturous spirit of abstaining, here is a bunch of things I will never own. Unless, great joy and love, Chloe Sevigny starts donating to my local op shop.

squid monkey mail

I've started working four days a week. (I know, I'm jealous of me too.) So to keep me company on my first day off this little SquidMonkey braved a treacherous trip from the depths of the Indian Ocean and through the wilds of the Wild Rainforest to his nearest post office where he slipped himself into an envelope and posted himself to Melbourne. We spent the day chatting about writing projects, assembling a bed and then trying to coax Ernest, our temporary cat, out from under the bed.

c-h-a-r-l-i-e

My favourite book is a collection of Charlie Harper's birds. If I was rich and famous one of his prints would be smack bang above the fireplace of my Frank Lloyd Wright holiday house. Right next to my Eames chair and my super-8 collection of other people's 1960s home videos. Life would be good.

I can't cook

Lankwood once asked me, very lovingly, if I ever tasted the food before I served it. The other day I found the burnt remains of one of the mini-pizzas I made for a party stuck behind the oven rack. It had been there for three weeks. I had wondered what the burning smell was each time I heated the oven.

I'm gunna ...

I know it's June and a little late (or early) to be posting this, but I really like this poster. Not because of the design, although the colours a pretty good, but because I like the idea of setting aside a month to read the books you always meant to. All those books that are on your list but when you get to the bookstore your mind goes blank. The books that are referenced in movies and other books and you kick yourself cos you don't get the joke. The author's names that people you've just met at parties drop and you have to decide: pretend to have read them and quickly change the subject or just smile and quickly change the subject.

So I'm thinking I might need to put aside a month to read my list. Maybe one of the cosy months like July or August. A month when it rains alot. But then I think I'll probably need more than a month. I'm a pretty slow reader.

golden

My second post ever and I choose this:

My chosen entertainment for saying goodbye to America.

squid-ink

If squids could talk I doubt they would blog. But it is nice to think of all those tentacles tapping ferociously at the keyboard as they crush biscuits in their beaks, letting the crumbs gather on the floor. Perhaps they would peer over their glasses to check and fix a spelling error. I don't think squids would tolerate bad grammar, but they wouldn't correct someone else's either. Choosing instead to just frown and dismiss.

No, I don't think the internet is the place for squids. Which is a good thing because I like to think of them in the ocean, swimming in the dark and leaving inky trails for all of their enemies.