July 20. Day 202. Left hanging on the line

Even that reputable source Wikipedia can't adequately explain why people would throw their shoes over power lines.

There are many references - none of them with any authority - that suggest it has something to do with drug dealers marking out or identifying their territory.

If that's the case there must be an awful lot of drug dealers in the area around where I live. This one was taken near the rail bridge at South Brisbane this morning

I hear from another authoritative source - Eddie McGuire - that power companies consider it vandalism and a potential threat to power supply.

The power companies are quite dismissive of the potential drug link. Personally I think there must be something in it.

Certainly if I actually managed to throw a pair of shoes high enough and with enough precision to land over the power lines I think you'd have every right to drug test me. There would have to be some artificial performance enhancer at work.

In addition, given the cost of shoes I think you'd have to be on drugs to think throwing them over power lines was a good idea.

July 11. Day 193. Sitting on the fence

I love the sections of the musical Fiddler on the Roof where Tevye, the patriarch, weighs up dilemmas always trying to see both sides of the argument.
He has these internal arguments out loud, stating his world view and before continuing "on the other hand" and considering and often conceding to his children's arguments.
But there are issues he sees as absolute: “How can I turn my back on my faith, my people? If I try and bend that far, I’ll break! On the other hand...” Pause “No! There is no other hand!”
Sometimes you just have to stop sitting on the fence and say what you really think even if
a) you might ruffle a few feathers and
b) you might end up looking like a bit of a turkey.
It's a bit of a balancing act really, that sitting on the fence business. It's good to be able to see both sides but if you plant yourself too hard not only will you will get splinters in your bum you risk not standing up for those things that really matter.
I think this turkey on the fence this morning seemed to have it about right - high enough to get a good overview of the situation but the tail feathers clearly letting you know when to back off.

June 27. Day 179. No sign of Spring

I love the movie Groundhog Day. Partly this is related to my love of chick flicks and this is a classic. And any movie that includes Sonny and Cher's  I've Got You Babe has got to score points. But it's not just that. Nor is it just that The Bill Murray learns to speak French, ice sculpt and play the piano to get the girl.
No, I love the idea of Punxsutawney Phil, the groundhog, who comes out of hibination every February 2 and if he doesn't like the weather he heads back into the cave. Quite simply, if there's no sun he's out of there. Spring is not here yet.
That's an awesome concept. Humans are supposedly the top of the evolutionary tree but we just endure winter. Birds with brains much smaller than ours fly out to warmer climates in the winter. And there are other mammals who just take to the cave and stay there for the winter. At this time of year I want to be a bear. I want to retreat to a cave and not come out until it's Spring. Spring. Today Spring felt a very long way off. Cold and very bleak and no cave anywhere to retreat into. All that could be done was eat soup and wear thick socks.
But I did see one sign of Spring, a street sign to be exact. Someone has decided to decorate the sign where Spring Street meets Boundary Street at West End with springs. I think it looks rather cool but I doubt it would be enough to convince Punxsutawney Phil that Spring had arrived.

June 25. Day 177. Jumping through hoops

Remember the promises of the paperless office? What a load of old #$%^& that was.
It seems to me that while there may have been a very slight reduction in the use of dead trees there has been a huge upturn in the amount of "paperwork". And while the mountain of paperwork continues to grow there does seem to have been a reduction in the people whose specific job it is to fill in the forms. That wonderful duty seems to have been devolved back to other parts of the organisation in the name of efficiency. So we all get to share the love or jump through the compliance hoops depending on which way you look at it.
I've been jumping through the hoops trying to get through a mountain of paperwork presented at this time of year. The juggle is made just that bit more complicated by the fact that it's school holidays. Mind you, I could continue to work completely without interference if I was prepared to let the teenager maintain his preferred position in the cave of his bedroom with a laptop.
NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. At home, as in at work, there are compliance standards that need to be met. Exercise and light that doesn't come from a computer monitor are non negotiable occupational health and safety standards here. What form that takes, the teenager may decide.
Shooting hoops in the back yard is often the activity of choice.
Mr O has long loved the basketball hoop. We had a free standing one at our old place and one of the first things we did when we moved here was install this one in its current location.
So today we were both negotiating hoops one way or another. Doesn't take much guessing who was having the better time.

June 9. Day 161. Living history

History. It's just one damned thing after another.
At least that's how it can seem if history comes straight from a text book or is delivered by an uninspiring teacher.
But in the right hands or with the right presentation, history is fascinating. You need someone make it much more than a bunch of dates.
Mrs Josie James - my high school history teacher  - was my very favourite teacher at school. She turned history into a fascinating story. History came alive.
History was alive in and kicking Brisbane today at the annual History Alive: A Journey Through Time at the Fort Lytton National Park.
Every year for the past 13 years history groups have been re-enacting everything from the Roman Legions to the Vietnam War.
The park was packed with families watching gladiators fight and canons fire. Some, such as Aidan, photographed above, even got to take part.
That has to be enough to inspire any child to love the past.

June 1. Day 153. A little bit of Goodwill

I read somewhere - doubtless a very reliable source such as a woman's magazine - that a survey was conducted to ask women the three words they most wanted to hear.
Researchers expected the magic words would be "I love you" but instead the phrase to warm the heart was in fact "You've lost weight".
Yep, that works for me.
Today I was celebrating a milestone in the weight loss journey - I reached my goal weight. Yay me.
Weigh in was 9.30am and leaving nothing to chance I got up early for a final walk before the dietitian's appointment. I was not going to let anything get in the way of the 0.1kilograms still between me and goal. - not the fact that it was the first day of winter, it was cold and I still have a cold nor that it was still dark and wet. Nothing
Whether it was the walk or not (okay, it was never the walk) the scales registered a 0.6 kilogram loss, Score.
Today's photo was snapped on that dawn walk at the entrance of the Goodwill Bridge,
I like it because long walks have been a big part of the strategy to rid of those 14.5 kilograms. Brisbane's three pedestrian-only bridges - the Goodwill Bridge, the Eleanor Schonell Bridge and the Kurilpa Bridge - have all been regular points on the walking map.
Also, after hearing those three words that women love, I was feeling a lot of good will. Plus I think it's a bloody nice shot

May 31. Day 152. Careful, I might rip your head off

Most of today I felt like ripping someone's head off. I am of course figuratively speaking and not in a female-preying-mantis-that-has-just-had-sex kind of way.
Probably the head I most wanted to rip off was my own - full of snot and bad thoughts. It was not pretty.
Truth is that in the context of some of the dreadful things you read in the newspaper, today wasn't that bad. But after a sleepless night and with a child home sick and behaving like a bear with a sore head, husband away for work and an end of semester out of control workload happening, I rather felt like I was running around like a headless chook.
Plus all those things and rain meant I didn't manage a stress release walk in this morning. Not a good combination.
Later in the afternoon, driven by hunger and cabin fever, I stepped out. I knew exactly where to head to get a photo that summed up how I felt today. Yep, off to West End and the Lychee Lounge with its barbie-doll-head chandeliers.
I am pretty sure whoever designed this has a greater need for counselling than I do. I was not the type of child prone to ripping the head off dolls but today I found myself thinking it might be rather therapeutic.
At least I resisted the temptation to get off my head and had a rather delicious rhubarb highball mocktail instead.

May 29. Day 150. Zip it

 

Black tie events are few and far between thus I have just one "formal" frock. That works well. The length of time between drinks and the likelihood that the crowd will be different generally means one black tie outfit will see a girl through. Except...Opera Australia is in town this week and I have invites to two black tie events six days apart, both likely to attract the same crowd. Clothing crisis.

The plan B is a timeless black gown in the back of the wardrobe, about 13 years old but still perfect for the purpose except for the busted zip. The zip has always been a bit iffy but last time I tied the dress on the zip simply refused to budge. It was either rip the zip to get the dress off or wear a floor length gown half done up for the rest of my life. I ripped the zip.

With the Night at the Opera quickly approaching I decided the zip problem needed to be addressed so I headed to West End.

The first attempt failed as the tailor has now closed. A flier at the venue suggested a seamstress around the corner but there was no-one home. So I moved on to a dry cleaner and clothing alteration business. The woman who does the alterations was on jury duty so not at work. An assistant at the business said the repair could probably still be done in time if a zip in the right size was freely available.

So we measured the zip and I went to a shop next door which sold zips. There was just one black zip in the right size. It was broken. The shop assistant there helpfully suggested I might want another colour. Sure, that hot red zip would be perfect on a formal black frock. Not. As anything that come out of my mouth at that point would not be pretty I made a rare move and decided to zip it.

Out in the street at West End and working on my next move I spied a piece of street art titled Flindersia Westendus on a retaining wall.

There were three bits to it but my eye was drawn to the central aspect - it seemed to be talking to me: a piece of overripe fruit, probably gone to seed, desperately trying to get a zip to hold it together.

Whether a new zip is up to that task remains to be seen. I found someone able to take on the job in the city and will pick up the dress tomorrow.

As Dr Evil is Austin Powers said: "When a problem comes along, you must zip it." Hopefully that works.

May 18. Day 139. Diary of my Wimpy Kid

Dear Diary,

I really want to go and meet Jeff Kinney because the Wimpy Kids books are cool but I couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed. I’ll send my mum. It doesn’t get any wimpier than that!

Oliver

When Mr O found out children’s author Jeff Kinney was in town there was a flash of nostaligia and excitement. How he loved those books. I say loved because he has moved on to reading much more advanced things but when we moved house and a lot of the other books were given away the Wimpy Kids books stayed. There’s something about them.

I adore people like Jeff Kinney. I love that they make reading joyous. So just because Mr O wouldn’t go didn’t stop me and now we have an autographed copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Cool.

May 9. Day 130. Seeing red

It's just not fair. If it looks delicious, there's almost a 100% chance that it will be bad for you. Berry. Berry bad for you.
Now, I'm no expert on bush foods (I gather my food from the shelves of the supermarket) but I'm pretty sure that eating these tasty looking berries I spied in the gully near my home wouldn't be the smartest of moves.
It's no accident that red is the colour we humans use to indicate danger or stop. So I stopped and I thought of Charles Dickens (as you do).
“On the motionless branches of some trees, autumn berries hung like clusters of coral beads, as in those fabled orchards where the fruits were jewels . . .”
Can't argue with that.

May 6. Day 127. Monkey business

I admit, it is not all that long ago that I would have thought teaching children meditation and relaxation was new age mumbo jumbo.
Perhaps it is increased age. Perhaps it is increased wisdom but I have now come to think that teaching our kids to chill in a high pressure, high competition world is probably among the best life skills we can pass on.
So it was a delight to watch groups of children front and centre in today's Buddha's Birthday celebrations at South Bank. They showed off their meditation and relaxation and quietly chanted.
I admit to not knowing all that much about Buddhism but the doctrine of peace and forgiveness seems compelling (the bits about reincarnation and vegetarianism I feel less attracted to.
I also love the fact that as a western society we are now so much more open to the beliefs, philosophies and cultures of other nations.
Perhaps this is why there were so many people just milling around watching this Sri Lankan children's dance troupe perform a monkey dance. Or perhaps it was just because they were so incredibly cute.

April 25. Day 116. Lest we forget.

In the lead-up to Anzac Day 1990 in a hotel room in Instanbul I had one of the moments that stays with you forever. There I got to kiss a 94-year-old veteran on the forehead and tuck him into bed as he prepared to travel to Gallipoli for the first time since he had landed there in 1915.

Until a couple of weeks before that Anzac Day I had worked at the Sunshine Coast Daily where we'd had a keen interest in 94-year-old George Svenson of Maleny who was returning to Gallipoli to mark the 75th anniversary of the first Anzac landing.
I'd met George in Australia and it had been arranged that I would follow his journey for the paper while I was on the first leg of my big overseas adventure.
So, as arranged, I fronted to the hotel in Istanbul where George was staying. It was about 6pm and from the hotel desk I phoned his room.
The conversation went something like this:
Me: "George, I'm in the foyer can I come up and have a chat?"
George: "The weather's really nice here"
Me: "Yes I know. I'm in the foyer. can I come up?"
George: "They are looking after me really well"

At this stage the desk clerk took pity on me and let me go up. George was in bed and in his PJs but was happy to chat.
He told me his daughter had just called from Australia and he'd assured her that the weather was nice here and they were looking after him!

He excitedly told me he felt "tip top" but was thinking about the"poor sods" who didn't make it.
He was clearly tired so I said I'd let myself out. He invited me to tuck him in, and so I did.

Two days later we were in Anzac Cove and every year since I think of George on Anzac Day. This year I was at Anzac Square in Brisbane at 4am, finally keeping the vow I made in 1990 to attend dawn services. This photo above is of seven-year-old Stuart of Wavell Heights paying his respects at the shrine.

It's heartening that new generations won't forget the sacrifice of men such as George. It's the least we can do.

April 22. Day 113. Spreading my wings

The day before I embarked on the Project 365 journey, I bought a new 8GB memory card for my rather nice Canon digital SLR and I had great plans of taking seriously arty photos every day for a year.
The photo on Day 2 was taken on my iPhone as has just about every photo since.
I decided this was a positive. The best camera for the job is the one you have with you and it was very obvious that I wasn't going to be able to cart the serious camera with me every hour of every day for a year.
So I changed focus (pun intended) and decided that the plan would be to teach myself to get the most out of the iPhone camera. My Project 365. My rules.
And then I started typing stuff. Not just an extended caption which was the plan but something that came to my mind when I took each day's picture. Again, my Project 365. My rules. Why not indulge two types of creative output instead of just one?
Anyway just to prove that my rules are no rules, today's photo is not from the iPhone. I decided to take the proper camera on my walk to The Lakes at UQ this morning. A zoom lens can be a very handy thing.
This little fellow, like me, is spreading its wings.

January 19. Day 19. Having a fowl time at the Queensland Art Gallery

Yes, those in the southern states still like to think of Brisbane as a cultural backwater. To them I say "phooey". Have a look at the audience numbers at recent exhibitions at the Gallery of Modern Art and then let's talk.
But even before GOMA, there was an excellent cultural precinct South Bank with the Queensland Art Gallery and the Queensland Museum right on the river.
And there's plenty to see and do for free without waiting for the blockbuster exhibitions.
The doors hadn't even opened for the day when I took this photo of the Leonard and Kathleen Shillam's Pelican sculptures in a water courtyard outside the gallery this morning.
Gotta love pelicans. How I relate to creatures that keep stuffing things in their mouths despite their stomachs having reached capacity.

January 10. Day 10 . The Eleanor Schonell Bridge

I am a very rare beast. In Brisbane you are either a northside person or a southside person. People just don't seem to "migrate" to the other side of the river. Almost exactly a year ago, my northside family became a southside family - but only just.
We live very close to the Brisbane River. An estate agent might say we have "river glimpses". The reality, however, is although it is probably only a little over one hundred of metres away, the most you can see of the river is reflections off the water through the trees when the light is favourable. While we can't see the water we have a perfect view of the University of Queensland on the other side of the river and we can clearly see the pylons of the Eleanor Schonnel Bridge which links Dutton Park on the South and St Lucia on the north.
The bridge is very unusual in that it only carries pedestrians, cyclists and buses - no cars - but what I like is its shape and the lines of the cables that support it. Often it is where I head on my daily walk. Normally it is a fairly easy stroll but in today's oppressive humidity I thought it might be a bridge too far.I survived and here's today's resulting Project365 montage.

January 9. Day 9. Below the surface

Today is officially stinking hot and there are only two ways of escaping it - in air conditioning or in water. Although I love the air conditioning unit right now it is not especially photogenic. The pool on the other hand......
Given that the Iphone is allergic to water and I don't yet own a fancy pants Lifeproof case (note to those nearest and dearest - ideal birthday present. I can wait until April) today's pic comes from the cute little underwater video camera Mr Oliver was given for Christmas. My "baby" Mr O is also the boy in the photo