So what’s been happening in the world of dreams? Quite a bit actually, settle back in your lovely chair and I’ll begin.
Bethy turned 18, she's now a fully qualified adult and is able, nay, forced to vote. Me and Lee-Anne wanted to give her something lasting as a 18th birthday present, Lee-Anne as ever, got it sorted. We bought her a hand painted porcelain lamp and some "lotus bowls" from a very classy Chinese import place, ($$$$). They are lovely and she will have them for some time, hopefully will be part of her life as an independent adult in her own home. Though as I dropped the bloody box with the "lotus bowls" in it, when getting them out of the car, she's lucky to have them at all.
Lee-Anne noted that the lamp has a red dragon on it, hand painted, which ties in nicely with the Welsh connection.
The mother in law wanted Bethy to go shopping with her for her present, she asked (millions of times,) what Bethy wanted; "I'd love a proper tea set," Bethy informed her. After looking about the mall for a while, Mary chipped in with, "We've walked past a good few shops now, have you not seen the sort of t-shirt you want?"
We had a family meal for Bethy's 18th birthday at "Rubicon," a place we hadn't yet eaten at. It's an unassuming looking place from the outside, inside it is minimally decorated, with taste, and well presented. The choice of food was broad, with vegetarians well catered too I was pleased to see, even though I'm an ex vege who now eats fish, I still love vege grub.
We all had three courses, for starters Lee-Anne and I had vegetarian, I had roast gnocci, Lee-Anne had stuffed zuccini flowers. Bethy had octopus, which makes me want to hurl every time I see it cooked. The food was neatly presented with attention to detail and good flavours without being overly dramatic. Our mains were more traditional, mainly fish, but Bethy had steak. All were well cooked, neatly presented and if not earth shattering, then at least wholesome and tasty. My recommended wine (Kidnapper) complimented my crispy skinned Barramundi beautifully. The extras were great, I loved the polenta and parmesan chips, and we've made them, (but better versions,) ourselves since.
I had the cheese for desert, I was only allowed this as it was a special occasion, and the three choices again, were appropriate rather than stunning.
We had asked for a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, to toast Bethy's birthday, but as that was not available we were offered a bottle of Bolly instead. This was given to us at the price of the Veuve Clicquot, a nice touch. Service was prompt, without being rushed. Our waitress was stunningly attractive, and very efficient and considerate. A great night. Bethy had her first proper glass of wine, as an adult, and it was Bolly to boot.
It was also Brandon's 18th birthday recently, Bethy cooked him this amazing cake.
Seeing as the lad suffers from being part-American, we bought him a box of mixed Brit and Aussie beers, with some Budwieser included, to celebrate the event. But being a sarky old sod, I didn't buy the gnats piss American Budwieser, I bought him a REAL Budweiser. He loved it.
Last night Bethany celebrated her 18 th. birthday, at a shared party with her mate who is also turning 18. Great, less expense for me then! They hired the "Pirate Party Boat" for the night.
There was to be kareoke and other such entertainments. We were hoping it's all that she wants and will remain a great memory for many years to come. But the prospect of it happening at all was, to say the least, a bit unnerving. Funnily enough as it turns out, it wasn't unnerving once happening, but bloody good fun. But god it was also dead weird.
I knew it was going to be weird when Bethy insisted we attend. That's the last thing I would have wanted at her age. God! The embarrassment of the crumblies being there?
Ok, first of all Lee-Anne cooked food for two days solid, three different types of bread scrolls, four different flavour chicken wings, she also made a few hundred cupcakes. Bethy made yet another muti-colour multi-flavour birthday cake, like the one she made for her boyfriend's 18th. We also bought in four slabs of Turkish bread, and three dips.
I was put in charge of alcohol, ordered to get two slabs of beer, three slabs of cider, eight bottles of sparkling wine, water, lemonade, and other fizzy drinks.
We got to the boat early and loaded up the food and the grub. More than once I was tempted to go back into town and buy half a dozen more slabs. The way I looked at it, 40 guests, half of them, roughly male, (some very roughly male,) a slab holds 24 beers, that would be 2 1/2 beers each. I had dreadful thoughts of being an hour into the lake trip and the bar running dry. But Bethy insisted it would be enough, and; "I don't want anyone getting too pissed and ruining it."
The guys on the boat were excellent, very helpful and obliging. We did think at first it wasgoing to be expensive at a grand for the night. But four hours on the boat driving about the lake, and four crew on board, (two as "bouncers",) turned out reasonable to say the least.
We did a tour of Lake Burley Griffin on the boat, it was lovely to see the city from the lake, something I'd not done before. The party kicked off, beers were cracked, the kareoke fired up, people sang. Notable voice was young Ellie, who has huge potential as a singer/actress. Dancing was sporadic. A few spent all night peering into their phones, but not as many as I though would do this.
And it all went off without a hitch. Bethy and Savvy got given lovely presents. Savvy was blown away by the life sized cardboard Alan "Snape" Rickman that Bethy gave her.
Remember this was a joint 18th birthday party for two girls, 40 spotty adolescents on a boat with a free bar.
BUT!!!
No one got hammered and passed out/threw up. There were no major split ups of couples. No "you looking at my bird" fights. No food was thrown. Most, nearly all in fact, remained sober. Definitely no evidence of any Persians having been consumed. It was all over by 10.00 pm.Some carried on into the city to go to bars, most went home.
Most interestingly for me, stacks of the beers and wine we had bought in, was left over. I'd say about half. Five of the eight bottles of wine remained corked.The fact that I was driving, and only allowed myself a couple of small bottles of weak cider, over four hours, helped this situation enormously.
Well it's all for me now!!
What a difference to our generation's days eh folks? When I was 18 the prime motivation for going to a party was to get as much booze and drugs inside of me as I possibly could, in order to get enough Dutch courage to try to get into someone's, anyone's, knickers. Unfortunately I was very, very, good at the booze / drugs bit, and totally hopeless at the knickers bit. Possibly some cause and effect there do you think?
As I told Lee-Anne, "If 1 was an 18 year old at this party, I'd be out like a light on the floor, pissed and stoned, before the boat even set sail, and spend the latter half of the trip throwing me guts up over the side. "
The puppies have settled in, and are now a part of the family proper. They still shit everywhere, and will rip anything soft, which is foolishly left within biting distance, to shreds given half a chance, (i.e. tea towels, bog rolls, soft toys, Millie, my nose.) We have bought them hundreds soft puppy chew toys, but these are not as attractive to them as chewing items as my skiddy underpants, or the sofa appear to be. They are fully vaccinated and are being walked daily. I thought getting them out walking would be a way of stopping them from being totally engrossed, as they always are for all their waking hours, in trying to bite each other’s heads off. I was wrong. They now spend each morning walking around the local nature reserve trying to bite each other’s heads off.
They’ll learn. Eventually. Or die.
"Let's go to the lake for this morning's walk" we said, "we can take the puppies for their first proper walk. There's always other dogs there, we can start socialising them."
And so it came to pass……
Yep, the first two dogs our little pups met were a large Wolfhound, and a frigging massive Great Dane. Both were lovely animals and treated the pups gently. The pups tried to chew the Wolfie and Dane's heads off, Jack Russells are entirely without fear.
We went up to Sydney to see Alan Davies the comedian. We decided, to save a few bob, to hire a car and drive up and back in one day, rather than book an apartment or hotel rooms for the thee of us. The last time we tried a stunt like this was when we went up to Newcastle to see “Little Britain” live. I’d survived that trip, just, but not without getting a whopping great speeding ticket on the way back, (fuck my luck.) So, as Sydney is closer than Newcastle, we decided to give it a try. We’ve got lots of stuff coming up in Sydney, so we thought it may be a way of keeping our expenses down.
Car hire for 24 hours is only $53 bucks, (plus gas obviously,) so it’s not a bad deal. As I am now older and wiser (stop tittering at the back,) I hoped not to blow the costs out of all proportion by getting caught speeding, again. Remember, the fine I got in January, when collecting the puppies, was $471.00! We could take a fucking taxi up and back to Sydney for that price.
But then the mother in law had to go up to see her sister, who was seriously ill. So as she’d be in Melbourne for the week we used her car, which made it even cheaper. Poor old Wilma, not only did she have some sort of stroke, but then she had Mary coming up to “help.” Apparently Mary spent a fair bit of time encouraging Wilma ; “Not to give up driving, as you’ll lose your independence.” Wilma, to my knowledge, has the visual ability of a bat, has had a stroke, a heart pace maker, suffers from faints and falls, and has diabetes and other problems. I won’t be driving in Melbourne for a while, I’ll tell you.
Bethy and Brandon were staying at Mary’s; “To look after the place and keep it safe,” or as we all know it; “shag like bunnies.” One day I bumped into Mary’s next door neighbour at the supermarket, we stopped, as we usually do, to gossip. She looked a bit embarrassed; “Do you know your daughter and a boy have been sleeping there?, ” she eventually plucked up the courage to ask me. I reassured her we were aware. “Thank god for that, I really didn’t want to dob her in. I would have loved that opportunity at her age.” I stopped myself from asking; “Why, were you a randy little bugger at that age as well then?”
You and me both love.
We got up to the Opera House, thank god for GPS, and parked. We walked down to the area through the magical botanic gardens, what a lovely walk. We had some time to kill before Mr Davies' show, so we ate at the Opera Cafe, and watched all the beautiful people passing. By god, it’s not the place to sit if you’re an old, fat, ugly Walsh bastard, I’ll tell you. If I wasn’t so self contained and content (and pig headed/obnoxious/arrogant,) I’d have felt quite in awe of the people. Some real top "posh totty" there.
I went to get our tickets from the theatre box office. While there a poster for a forthcoming event at the Opera House caught my eye. Before Lee-Anne could distract me from it I threw my credit card over the counter, and prayed there were still seats available. There were!!
So on Sunday April 7 th., I will be going back to the Opera House to see my first ever full on minimalist classical concert! Bloody Arvo Part none the less. I’m bloody cultured me, and I don’t care what you soft buggers think.
Then it hit me! What to do, what to do?
I already have tickets for PIL, in April, (and the rugby, and Ross Noble.) The problem?
Well the PIL and Arvo Part gigs are only 4 day apart, (scuse pun.) The two gigs were going to be too far apart to go up and stay at a hotel, especially as I'd be going on my own, this would be prohibitatively expensive, and what the hell would I do between gigs? I could go and shoot photos of the place I suppose, go to some exhibitions and galleries, spend time by the sea or in the Botanical Gardens. But, lovely as Sydney is, I'm not really a city person, and it definitely didn't appeal. But also to be considered was that it's a fucker of a drive up and back in one evening, up to 4 hours each way, depending on road works. Doing it twice in four days would be really gutty.
What to do?
Wed 10 Apr, 8:00pm
Where: Enmore Theatre, 118-132 Enmore Rd, Sydney
After a monumental 2012 that saw the band release their first album in two decades to broad critical acclaim, English post-rock band Public Image Ltd have announced a string of new tour dates for 2013, including three huge shows on Australia’s East Coast. Flanked by their fearless leader, Sex Pistols vocalist John Lydon, PiL will make a triumphant return to Australia for the first time in 20 years to showcase tracks from their critically acclaimed new album This Is PiL as well as favourites from their vast back catalogue.
THE COMPOSERS: ARVO PÄRT A SACRED JOURNEY (7 April, Concert Hall)
Celebrating the music of one of the world’s greatest living composers, Arvo Pärt, this concert brings a canon of his most popular works to the Concert Hall stage. Featuring Part’s closest collaborators, Tõnu Kaljuste (conductor) and The Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, A Sacred Journey also features Musicians of the Sydney Symphony and continues the Sydney Opera House’s new contemporary music series, The Composers.
Problem solved by invoking the usual kindness of Lee-Anne, and her tolerance of my "enthusiams" . She's agreed for me to go up and back in one night to see the Arvo Part concert, in a hire car again. For PIL I'll go up by coach and book into a cheap hotel for the night, that way I can get absoluetly bladdered. It wouldn't be right seeing Johnny Rotten play when I was sober.
On a vaguely related note, watch this!
The more I watch it the better it gets, four armed, three legged(sih) drummer is amazing. (Check out how his high-hat is played.)
Taking of culture. I decided to promote my latest CD, Dartmoor Ambient", on a couple of online forums I use. The response was, surprisingly, positive! It got a couple of hundred downloads. Then someone suggested I put it on the torrents, and so I did, and it’s gone global.
Some reviews;
I especially like the tracks from Rain down the Tor and onwards.
I know fook all about music however this is very relaxing to listen to and very zen like.
Initial thoughts while tired on a few glasses of Absynth, I get the feeling of Chineese styles.
Yes, it works fine. As for the content, not a bad effort really.
So on..
We went and saw Mr Davies perform, two small disappointments were that he was doing the same set (with a few new twists/variations,) as the last time we saw him, and that he wasn’t actually in the Opera House itself, but in the smaller “Drama Theatre.” Still, it’s a good set, and seeing as it’s over a year since we saw him last, we’d forgotten most of his riffs. As he came onto the stage a party of late arrivals walked in, he looked at the youngster who was with them, and asked “How old are you?” She replied “Ten!” He had the decency to blush, and to apologise in advance for some of the things he was about to say. (I remembered his skit on porn and who is supposed to be enjoying themselves; I knew why he was embarrassed.) He also informed her that she may have to get her parents to explain a few of the things he said, preferably later.
At one point, early in his set, he was trying to get a feel for his audience, he asked; “Any students in tonight?” Bethy chipped in that she was, he asked where; “Australian National University,” she replied. (Ok, she’s not actually there yet, but she does have a place, bless.) “Oh, so you’re a student at the Australian National University, the ANU, an ANU student, an A.N.U.S. How nice for you.” She loved that.
All good things must end, so we strolled off. Unfortunately, by now, the Botanical gardens had closed for the night, and so we had to walk around them. It’s a bloody long way round. Poor old Bethy was wearing her heels. Well she was for half the walk, for the other half she went barefoot. Her feet ended up like two slabs of beef. The next day she played basketball, which didn’t help matters at all. More by luck than judgement we found our way back to car park. It cost us $64 to park there, thus reducing again the cheap trip idea.
One morning we noted that the puppies were scratching their ears quite a lot. So I took them to the vet. Rob, our regular vet wasn’t in, a nice lady locum vet was there. So I explained about their ears, and she said she’d have a look. She obviously wasn’t happy. She got a cloth, some saline fluid, and some tissues, and stuck her fist inside Digby’s head. I’m not kidding you, I didn’t think it would be possible, but she looked like she was getting her whole hand in there. I was going to offer to stand on his other side, and pull on the tissue from there if it would help. Then all this black stuff came out, really tar like, bloody smelly, black stuff. “Bit of a ear infection, “ she understated. Ginger, who was watching all this, promptly laid the biggest log I have ever seen a dog drop. It was bigger than he was, I thought he’d given birth. Rottys don’t do shits that big. I apologised and cleaned up after him. We got ear cleaning fluid, ear lotion, ear drops, and worming pills to take home, and of course a bill ($$$$$). It made me quite nostalgic; it was almost like having old Barney back.
Just bye the bye, we haven’t actually got around to burying Barney’s ashes yet, he’s still on the sideboard.
A week after seeing Alan Davies, I did a solo trip to the Opera House, my first time for seeing a gig in the Opera House itself.
I arrived at Sydney opera house W-A-A-A-A-A-Y too early for the Dead Can Dance gig I was up there to see. So I was amusing myself by walking laps of the place as;
a) I'd been driving for 3 1/2 hours, I had a 3 1/2 hour drive home to come.
b) I couldn't drink, due to the above.
c) I'm a fucking idiot.
On one lap I saw a people carrier* being let through the back loading area security gate. "Ooh, looks interesting!" So I walked over to the stage door. Who gets out of it, amongst her entourage**, but Lisa Gerrard herself!!! The Princess of Post Rock, the Goddess of Goth, the diva of dream-pop!
Of course, being me, this was too good an opportunity to turn down! In my cool calm and collected manner I asked; "Ere Lisa, ok for me to grab a photo graph with you love?" It may have actually come out more like 'AAawww.. eh… oooh… hellllloo… erm… blubber …. simper … whine …. whimper ….. can I lick your boots for you Lisa?" But she got my drift.
So I gave my phone to the guy with her, I assumed an acolyte or roadie, it turns out he was her percussionist,*** and was on stage with the band later.**** So she consents to it, and he faffs about with my phone, and I go over and show him how to do it, and SHE TOLD ME OFF!! "You really should be more prepared you know, " which gave me a slightly erotic thrill. I had the audacity to reply, "Ha! Chance would be a fine thing!" (Oscar Wilde eat your heart out!) So we posed again, I had MY HAND AROUND HER WAIST!! On stage you'd swear she's 17 foot tall, but she's really tiny, huge chest though. I thanked her effusively, and left her go.
Walking away on cloud nine, I had to go and grab a beer. I sat there hands trembling, opened up my phone to find…..No fucking picture!! The silly twat hadn't done it right!! I wept for a good half hour.
Still I'd met her, and touched her, and spoken with her. She is as ethereally beautiful and cultured as she projects, though she is not hot, and the gig was fucking brilliant. She sang the song which was played as the "wedding march" at our wedding!
The tosser who screwed up the photo is back left!! FFS mate… they don't even trust him with a full drum kit! What chance would he have with a camera phone?
*It should have been a black carriage drawn by four black stallions with funeral plumes.
** Should have been a group of high elves.
** a fucking drummer, if I'd have known that I'd not have trusted the thick fuck!!
**** If I'd have know that I would have taken a house brick into the gig to heave at him.
Next time I'm in Sydders it's for the Arvo Part gig, I wonder if he'll show?
We went along to the PM's XI, match. God I love me cricket. On the way there Lee-Anne pointed out something to me.
We were walking across the town, to catch the free bus from the city centre to the match, “Watch Mary,” she said. So I did, and I watched as Mary gradually drifted further and further back from us. Nothing odd about that you would think, a little old lady cannot keep up with you. Well, she does whenever we walk the dogs together, in fact most of the time she’s out in the lead. It’s only when she has an audience, does the “poor put upon old lady” act emerge. She did the same on the way back, I nearly peed myself laughing.
Oh, l lost my hat at the match, I must get a new one. Funny isn't it, I now feel naked/bald when out without a hat. Must be how all my mates feel. Constantly.
It was the first Day/Night match to be played at Manuka, they’ve just had light installed. So that was fun. One of the traditions of the PM’s XI is a that a local lad gets picked, by the PM, (as if!) to play for her side. The local boy, Jono Dean, made good. Unfortunately Ricky “Punter” Ponting, the ex Aussie captain, who was playing out his career here, was not on form and was out for a small few. The tit. A good, but not great game, which set the seal on the series, (as in “the Windies got stuffed.”) Good to see the big boys play though. Big Chris Gayle punted a few into the crowds, and I was happy.
Remember I was saying that despite me starting to eat fish again, I hadn’t gone OTT on it, and was only having it once a fortnight or so? That soon changed, to the point where Lee-Anne turned to me the other night and said; “Please can we eat vege for a change, I’m sick of fish.” Ah well, I’m sure its good for me. My virtually fat free diet continues, and I’m down by 5 kilos to 89 kilos. I don’t want to get much lighter, or lose any muscle. I'll happily stay on the fat free diet for now, but may be tempted to get on the sterols if it means I can gorge on cheese again. I’m still abstinent from the booze 4-5 nights a week, and feel better for it. Though I did decide that, as I was saving small fortune on booze by not drinking, I’d have a bottle of Aberlour to celebrate. Oh, and the day after I bought that, I saw our wine rack was looking a bit bereft, so I bought 16 bottles of plonk.
I’ve not saved a bloody penny, have I?
Oh, we also went to see the Windies against the full Aussie team at Manuka too, the first time a full international has been played there, two firsts in two weeks!. Mary was up with Wilma at this point, so we gave her ticket to Lee-Anne’s mate Simon, who was profoundly grateful. Though not as grateful as we were not to have Mary there. But it was a brilliant match, absolutely first rate. Some impressive batting from Shane Watson, but the Windies did not live up to their bowling promise. Some massive catches from the Windies didn’t stop them getting hammered once more, unfortunately. Bethy watching the match on TV at home, swears she saw us twice in crowd shots. There were some great fancy dress outfits there, but the highlight of the night was when the cameras found a preying mantis on the boundary ropes. It was doing a little dance and was fascinating to watch on the big screens. The crowd boo’d when the cameras stopped showing it and went back to the play on the pitch.
.
We still have some money left from my compo payment, surprisingly. The plan had been to buy me a new camera, as a treat for getting my injury. Pay for a new wood burner in our house in Cornwall, as the tenants have been complaining for months about getting kippered by the old one. Pay off our credit cards, buy some deaf old bastard new hearing aids, pay for plane tickets for our next trip to Blighty, and take a chunk off the mortgage.
Well how did we get on?
We paid for the wood burner. Twice. The letting agents paid for it out of rents, and we paid for it by credit card. It’s called; “A slight breakdown in communication.” So, they owed us a few thousand in credit. Which didn’t last long, as the shit pump for the septic tank blew up, and they paid for it with our credit money. Bollocks.
I was in the market for a new camera, I wanted a Canon 5D MkIII, which is a very nice camera. I'd been searching online. I found the best deal I can get from a local/national camera store was beaten by over a $1000 by an import from Hong Kong. Is it any wonder high street retailers are going bust? (You too can have one, all you need is a Suzuki 650 sports, an unfriendly taxi driver , a good solicitor, a lot of pain, and it’s yours.) Lee-Anne being a darling also let me buy a 17-40 mm Canon Lens to go with it, for my landscape photography. The first shots can be seen here; (click on images for gallery.)
Jesus!! When the Canon 5D arrived, I realised it was a serious bit of kit!! The menu, which I thought wouldn't be different to my old 450D, is like the launch details for the space shuttle. Steep learning curve ahead. Bloody typically, and deep joy, only one of my lenses works with it, my Tamron 300mm. As I said, Lee-Anne indulged me to the tune of a Canon17-40 mm, but I will need to buy a decent "walk about" lens. (Plus a battery grip, CF card, camera bag, tripod, remote control, filters, external flash……….)
When we're back in the UK in October, I'm hoping to do this course.
Check his Dartmoor gallery. His work is what I aspire too.
We bought our tickets for our next trip back to the UK. We'd been watching prices fall, and decided to bite the bullet at $1705 pp. I wish we’d waited now, as I can only assume they are a lot cheaper these days, the $ Aussie reached 68p the other day. I’m not looking at the prices though, I’ll only end up crying again. (The $Au has gone from buying 32 p, to buying 68 p in the last decade.)
We fly out on 30/9/13, return on 13/11/13. BA and Qantas this time, so no adventures like our Aeroflot/Moscow debacle. We’re stopping in Bangkok on both journeys, so I may pick up a lens there duty free. (Insert Bangkok ladyboy/Taff joke here.)
The credit cards are paid off, but have started creeping back up again.
Paying off a chunk of the mortgage? Try negotiating with to two banks in the UK, from Australia. Jesus. Llyods/TSB won’t let me take the 7,000 quid I have transferred to them from Aus, and pay it into into my Halifax Mortgage. Why? I do not have the account BSB and number. It’s not on my mortgage statement. Funny isn’t it, every month they pay a few hundred quid into that account on a direct debit, but they cannot transfer a one off sum, and cannot tell me the account details so I can do it myself online. Halifax won’t let me know what my account number and BSB are, unless I phone them at dead on 3.00 am our time, in the hope that they ‘aint at lunch or playing tennis or shagging their secretaries, or doing something else more interesting at the time.
I’ve got an appointment to see my audiologist for new hearing aids, I hate hearing aids.
(Edited to add) Lee-Anne just handed me the phone:
Person on phone: "Mutter mutter, mumble mumble…Mr Thomas, Can you confirm you will attend…"
Me: "Sorry, who did you say you were?"
Person on phone: "I SAID I'M RINGING TO CONFIRM YOUR AUDIOLOGY APPOINTMENT ON MONDAY!!!!!!"
ROTFLMFFAO!!!
Onto the bit of interest, it's been a wet end to the summer, have a look at this video I shot from our house on "Australia day", watch out for the lightning strikes at the end.
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