This week I feel like I am in Twin Peaks being stalked by one armed men.
See on friday the new washing machine was delivered and front-loading washing machines are fucking heavy and our driveway is seriously steep and the dude arrived with the trolley and the box already on it and made it down the driveway and up this big step and into the laundry not needing any help from me. And we were chatting about the “transit bolts”* and stuff and it was then I noticed he was missing a big chunk of his left arm — namely anything halfway down the forearm. Like a total fucking fool I suddenly couldn’t finish the sentence I was saying and I am lucky I didn’t fall over in amazement.
And then last night at the omnium I was resoundingly hammered by that incredible youngster who has almost the same condition.
My mum says everything happens in threes so I am waiting for Mike to show up.
But Mike’s cool. He can visit anytime.
And so I googled and managed to contact Cernak (and with a name like that it wasn’t hard!) and she was happy to hear from me and told me where the view her picture was based on was located. The picture below was taken at street level where the image was drawn from the view from the Hanlon building across the road which is a lot higher.
And above is the Hanlon Building where Cernak lived back in the 70s.
Being stupid-arty on the Bicentennial bikeway
And today I met Tom for a short ride up Coot-tha and then over to Mt Gravatt.
The view from Mt Gravatt is a little hindered by trees, but I think it is actually better than Coot-tha — maybe just cause you can see Mt Coot-tha and it’s dreamy TV towers — something I have loved ever since I was a kid. (Cause TV was like magic to a 6 year old and those towers were like totems to that magic).
On the way home my route got blocked by some street market.
And then I got to the Baroona Road shops and pulled apart my saddle bag to get at my emergency $10 and bought fish n chips for lunch. YUM. And so I took a self-portrait while I waited just to celebrate.
* See I only know about transit bolts because I learnt about them the HARD WAY. That story involved But naturally I didn’t mention that to him and pretended I was just super-streetwise when it came to washing machines.
This is what happens when you do not remove the transit bolts. The machine starts acting like it’s having an epileptic fit. Above Dee is trying her best to stop it shaking.
And this is Moochey — my old cat (RIP) — getting a bit weirded out by the new appliance. Also of note is that OLD WASHING MACHINE with its very checkered history.