Poppalina

The Odd One Out

Those who say Sydney is a beautiful city aren't necessarily wrong. They just haven't seen most of it.

Sure there's gorgeous harbour and plenty of serious beauty, I grant you.

But then there's the suburbs.

They stretch on for ever, and they're really ordinary. The western suburbs of Sydney, where I live, contain row upon row, street upon street of variations on this house, the California Bungalow.

Not that it is so awful or anything. It's just that there's so many of them, all built over the first half of the 20th Century, and although they take on the style of each decade, they're all basically the same house.

There are four rooms, with a central hall, and what comes after that basically depends on when the back part was added on.

This one at least gets points for the seahorse balustrade.

Houses of this type are punctuated every so often by one of these monstrosities.

They're apparently what everyone aspires to, God knows why.

You can tell it's what everyone aspires to, because sometimes you see one of the older houses renovated to look like one of the new ones.

 

But walking the dog one day, I came across this.

I'm not entirely sure how to describe it. I just know that it made me laugh, but I also kind of admired it too.

It's so Italian Riviera, with a touch of Versace.

I just had to share it with you.

Thirsty Koalas

Locals, no doubt, will be familiar with this photo,

but I wanted to post it for those who don't get Australian papers..

Donate to Wildlife Victoria here.

Bushfire Appeal

For those interested in donating to the Australian Bushfire Appeal,

Myriad options can be found here.

I chose the wildlife fund. I know people will need money, food and blankets, and I will give my yoga blankets to the blanket appeal. But people are the first port of call for most donations. Meanwhile, just thinking about the numbers of charred and injured animals in the bush makes me physically sick. Have you ever seen a wombat try to run? Or a koala? No chance, man.

This fire is likely to have permanently devastated the native wildlife population in that region. It may never recover, especially with the drought.

Okay. I'll shut up now.

I'll leave you with a picture from my friend Kylie's house. The fire was about 3km distant and, lucky for her, stayed that way.

Dialectics

Bluddyhoddodaymaydeh?

 

Oath. Fekinstenkin.

About Those Pilgrims...

I have to say, apart from their grevious taste in music, and a bewildering inability to grasp no-brainers - there really are too many people on the planet already, so let's not go forth and multiply, shall we? - pilgrims are rather gorgeous to have around.

As it happened, I was obliged to travel to Sydney whilst suffering from a biblically-proportioned onslaught of Carson's Holy Flu. Think Dawn of the Dead and that's me, trying to get the two of us from the alarmingly remote long term carpark to the airport terminal at nothing o'clock with Too Much Luggage and not a trolley in sight. I hereby swear to God that not once, not the whole way, did I ever have to lift my bag, get jostled in the (impressive) queues, get in anyone's face, or so much as listen to an unkind or ratty word spoken by anyone. At every step, I was beset with Acts of Gratuitous Kindness, pilgrims helping without me having to ask for it. It was nothing short of miraculous. Even the airline staff seemed stunned out of their customary state of hyper-grooviness, and I can't tell you what a Blessed Relief that was because we were flying Virgin Blue.

Of course, Sydneysiders might feel differently, having done much harder yards. I freely admit that for most of my stay the only sights I saw were the inside of a medical centre and the equally unfascinating chemist nearby.

So, I'll leave you to ponder that one, along with Leunig's cartoon from today's Age, which actually made me Laugh Out Loud.

Be good, now. God is watching you.

Another Australian Summer Looms..

Breakfast Sunday

The 5 km walk with the dog during the hottest part of today taught me a valuable lesson about sun cream, hats and water bottles, none of which I'd taken. I had also forgotten to zinc cream the dog's nose, which is as pink as a baby's bottom. We chased shade the whole way, though the sun was so high there was almost none, and it was a toss up as to who was getting the most stressed from the heat. How could I have been that stupid? When did the Summer Thermals begin, and why wasn't I told?

Angel lived up to his name by valiantly dragging me up the big hill at the end, and for his trouble he got watered down first when we got home. Only the faint recollection that I had once been a civilized person prevented me from pushing him out of the way and dunking my head in his water dish. It took an hour, and two litres of iced water, before my heart rate dropped to something remotely resembling normal.

Non-Australians might find this all a bit melodramatic and exaggerated, and to them I say...

You try living without a fucking ozone layer, and see how far YOU get.

Did I meantion that I love Winter? And that Eastern Victoria's already on fire?

A Whole Lotta Sole

Kapinny asked me to post this.

One for the locals. International readers, just talk amongst yourselves for a bit.

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Shoe fetishists won’t want to miss the Cinderella Complex, a huge one day shoe sale this Sunday 18 November, 9 am to 4 pm, at the Rose Street Artists’ Market. Donated shoes of every description; new, display stock and ‘good as new’, will be on offer in support of the Scaffidi Foundation.

The Scaffidi Foundation provides support for families with cancer, and was founded in the memory of Norina and Cathy Scaffidi. This mother and daughter were two beautiful women who dedicated their lives to helping others, and who succumbed to breast cancer in 1998 and 2002 respectively. The foundation hopes to build a retreat for families to visit in their time of greatest need.

The Cinderella Complex is itself a fundraiser for The Big Walk, during which two intrepid supporters of the Scaffidi Foundation will walk an impressive 740 kilometres. Clare Whitney, 35, and Richard Herr, 50, will travel from Mornington to Canberra, raising funds and support for the foundation. They have both started an eight month training program in preparation for the walk, which they expect to take just over a month.

The Rose Street Artists’ Market is at 60 Rose Street, Fitzroy, between Brunswick and Nicholson Streets, and normally opens from 11 am to 5 pm every Saturday.

Please contact Neil Morrison at the Scaffidi Foundation on +613 8643 7900 or [email protected] for further information.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Flashback Friday

As those who've read this blog over the last year might remember, my father wrote a weekly column for an Australian newspaper for many years. Words cannot describe the grief it gave me.

However, it was a long time ago now, and not everything he wrote paved the way for the Truly Awful Andrew Bolt, so I commemorate his passing, on the 24th of August, with an article he wrote for me.

Because I know he'd like that very much.

Apologies for the poor quality. It's a photstat of a fax of a copy from a newspaper. Surprising, really, that's it's even survived.

 

David Hampson 1943 - 1995

Homework Avoidance 101

Things to do When You Have a Paper Due.

Run all over Melbourne with a camera in the freezing cold,

Squeeze in a 5 hour lunch with another blogger.

Nag the already ridiculously busy Kapinny to draft a pattern for The Perfect Yoga Top (being one that actually covers the fanny during inversions)

Make Suse's sourdough..

Shop online for yoga mat bags...

All of the above being, of course, critical to my general state of well-being, and my Please-God-Anything-But-Sit-Down-With-Those-Books-ness.

I did actually make a start on the paper tonight, after much stomping of feet and flouncing about the kitchen.

Which is vaguely encouraging.

15 Minutes

A heartfelt thankyou to Stephanie of The Elegant Sufficiency for mentioning The Suicide Posts in today's Sunday Life! magazine. I emerged, this evening, (from a nine and a half hour yoga class), to find my phone positively popping with txt messages from all over the country regarding my new found fame. Tony Mokbel's got nuthin' on me today, mate.

And, best of all, I was on the podium with Alison, one of the most renowned and elegant crafting divas in Oz.

It was Truly Cool.

I can't find a link to the article online, so it's here, if you want to read it.

Just one minor correction, though. My blog has not been in operation for the last 5 years.

Poppalina turns just one in two weeks' time.

And I couldn't imagine a more gratifying birthday present.

(memo to me: buy even darker shades)...