Bridge

I met Doris twenty years ago on the comedy circuit. Today we took our first Bridge class. We are wondering if it is now time to put a wisteria rinse through our hair, and start referring to everyone as 'dear'.

sweeties

I love sugar. Oh how I love it.

I love Haigh's chocolate, South Australia's finest. Their milk chocolate scorched almonds are a perfect breakfast, accompanied by hot dark coffee.

I love sour gummy anything.

I love dessert. There is a reason 'desserts' is 'stressed' spelled backwards.

I love Minties and Fantales and Jaffas.

I love bitter dark chocolate.

I love pfeffernusse.


I love lamingtons.

I love See's candy. I had a whole box of mixed truffles to myself last time I came through LAX. I bought a box for The Gucci Mama too as an alibi.

The Croissant D'Or opposite the El-Alamein Fountain does a vanilla slice you could drown in.

I love paddle-pops and Bubble O' Bill. I enjoy a Gaytime.

I love anything banana-flavoured. I love how "banana flavour" is like "chicken flavour" - nothing like the taste of the thing it is named for.

I love sweeties, lollies, candies, chocolate, treats, ice-cream, creme brulee, butterscotch, panna cotta, lemon bars, marshmallow, maple syrup, caramel, fudge, cakes.

And today it has been four weeks since I had any sugar. Of any kind. One month and counting ...

West Village whimsy

Who can resist wet cement?

hanging around the Cross

The Pope has flown, the pilgrims have dribbled away, and I'm just hanging around the Cross.

let's hear it for the boys

Because mike keeps a neat and artistic shop. Because Atlas Cerise appreciates a fine product. Because Colonel Colonel can rip off a strip with the best of them. Because The Very Reverend Anaglyph has been known to DIY. Today we celebrate duct tape.

fill 'em up!

Please ignore this filler post.

bird on a wire

(well, you come up with something cleverer)

Ficus macrophylla

For malach and angryginger (she is a ginger and she is cross), a Moreton Bay Fig from Centennial Park to climb and fall out of. Bats love these fig trees. They gorge on the fruit then shit virulent fuschia-coloured poo. As the sign says "Beware the Bats' Poo". It should really say "Don't Be Where The Bats Poo".

vale Oskar

Oskar gives us a lick


a nod of thanks


shows us his dear profile


and sets off on his last long run on the beach.


good boy

Centennial Park

Near my home is Centennial Park, "a 189-hectare grand park in the Victorian period tradition featuring formal gardens, ponds, grand avenues, statues, historic buildings and sporting fields", so they say.





I go there and walk about, or sit in the cafe.





But when you come to visit, you might like to ride horses, or cycle.





Or walk your dog.





Several years ago, I met a friend for weekly walks through that Spring. We found a clutch of five cygnets with their parents, and on every walk after that we looked for them and watched their progress. One day, having not been for a while, there was no sign of five fluffy birds. We were sad. Then we spied a group of seven swans, and realised five of them were smaller than the other two. Our cygnets had fledged, and were now rambuctuous teenagers.





Meeting anyone who regularly used the Park during that time, I realised we all watched over that family group, somehow heartened that all of the babies survived the cold and the predators and grew up under our eyes.





They all only had one head, though.