ANZAC Day 2024

This is a somewhat different type of war song, about a war I can more closely relate to. 

We will remember them.

Queen Victoria Gardens

As I said on my rather odd Sunday Selections post featuring a train bed,

"This Sunday not so random but photos I took last winter as I wandered around the Queen Victoria 
Gardens."

There is a statue of Queen Victoria looking her usual grumpy self, but it is at a distance and I have showed you her statue before. 

Our floral clock, a gift from the watchmakers of Zurich. I don't think Zurich paid for maintenance. The flower beds are replanted twice a year. 

The plaque says Switzerland, so why did I say Zurich? I'm sure there is a reason. 

A statue of the Marquis of Linlithgow. I've no idea who he was and life is too short to check. My father told me we were related, sorry, I've remembered it was the Marquis of Lithgow, not Linlithgow. Perhaps there was a lot of begetting involved. 

Lots of phallic stuff visible from the gardens.

Who was he? The QE2's father was a George, wasn't he. The father of said George? The timeline seems wrong and he only lived to be nine years old? Or was 1901 to 1910 years of his rule. I've always been so bad at English royalty. 

A fountain jet of the Walker fountain is visible. Ron Waker who paid for the fountain was a bit of a Trump like person and while he was a VIP, I really disliked him. He lived nearby at The Domain and I saw him once as he left the garage in a black sports car with its roof lowered. Maybe Trump picked up his wig hair styling from Ron Walker. 

Blogging

Yorkshire Pudding recently pondered on the world of blog. I will do the same. 

I can be described as a well brought up, self educated working class person. That I could retire at the age of 61 as a self funded retiree is down to me working a crap job for 40 years. At times I would arise at 3am and at times go to bed at 3am. To put it frankly, like a garbage collector, it was a very important job, as people discover when garbage isn't collected. 

So, back to my point. Blogging is classless, with some bloggers who are financially very comfortable, some wo are not but they all contribute to world of the blog and the world wide connections are truly amazing. Blogging as we know it might disappear in the future as our generation dies out, and that will be loss, but the electrics are still there. Your blog will probably be around for eternity. It is more than possible that our youngest relatives will see the year 3000 2100. Googling relatives will be a thing of the past. It will be one click, or you will put on a helmet and the information will be transferred to your brain. Who knows?

But let me assure you, over the last thirty years bloggers will go on to become an invaluable resource and will continue to be so for eons, and become a great historical resource, yet a doubtful historical source as mostly what they write about relies on memories, short and long term. Historians will hate what we have written but there will be many clues to the truth for them. 

What social bloggers will really contribute is a snapshot of society in the period we have blogged and continue to blog, pretty well much of the early 21st century. Our pleasure, our pain, our thoughts, our social attitudes, our politics...well a long list, and it will all shine through. Your blog is not Facebook aka Bragbook. Don't underestimate what you are contributing to history and you will be admired for your honest writing. 

In the light of that, at a hospital today I heard the words 'I will cut here'. What was a small lump in an  incision wound after last year's kidney surgery, became larger and needs to be repaired. It's known as a surgical hernia. Last year's surgery was with a private surgeon. It cost me a few thousand dollars and my health insurance company around $12,000. I can't afford to use private health in spite of having private health insurance. The highly esteemed kidney surgeon told me during a three minute $180 phone consultation, that he could recommend a surgeon to repair his perhaps negligent work, given I'd had hernia repair surgery before. I am sure he could give me a mate's name, who would also charge thousands of dollars. 

The free public health system is doing quite well for me, but $10 for parking! Barley Charlie. Otherwise it costs nothing. 

Monday Mural

I am joining with Sami and others for Monday Mural. 

I believe I took this mural photo in Geelong a few years ago. 

While I thought the face, head and body trunk were quite well done, it seems limbs are quite difficult. Still, I quite like it. 

Sunday Evening

The sky is clear and the moon is almost full.

Only three stars are visible in the light polluted sky.

How good are humans at polluting!

Night time will be 6 with a shiver. Daytime a glorious 23. Where's my hat to stop the harmful rays.

Autumn is here with her glorious tree colours. But she is a harbinger of the cold and winds of winter. 

Still on roads and pavements below on a Sunday night, cars and people move on as everyone has a place to be, to get to.

Where are they all going? Maybe like us who drove to an Indian restaurant for some decent English food. 

Such safe and dependable food. Indian by name but English by taste, one of Australia's best imports. 

I missed a little tv sound, Vera, because of a very noisy motor bike, the sound of which penetrates. Can citizens buy road spikes to throw in front of noisy vehicles? 

Trams are rumbling past, so the world is still functioning. I imagine in Ukraine, the nearly forgotten war, how reassuring it must be for citizens to hear trams rumbling past. 

 

Sunday Selections

I'm joining with Elephant's Child and River for Sunday Selections. 

It's been a while since I've produced a Sunday Selection. Normally my photos are quite random. 

The past week was busy with spending some time to book a holiday, later this year to escape our winter for a couple of weeks. Train, flights, hotels, coordinating. It all takes time to do yourself but back in the days when we used to use a travel agent, that too took a lot of time. . 

This dude looks like a smooth operator who might make up our beds. Our first overnight train journey is looking promising. Will he return to tuck me in?

This Sunday not so random but photos I took last winter as I wandered around the Queen Victoria 
Gardens.

Well, by the time I had read and commented on so many blogs, then replied to comments on my own previous post, I don't have time to finish this post. Publish and be damned. 

The 1800s foreign types

At my age I generally find actually doing the sex too much of a bother. Oh, how I've changed. But I still find the theory of sex and how it is done in various manners very interesting. 

I was recently reminded of the Afghan cameleers in Australia in the 1800s who delivered goods packed on camels throughout outback Australia, outback meaning desert.

My sixty second research devotion did tell me some things. 

They as foreign types were up for racist media criticism. The Afghans, who were actually a conglomeration of Moslems from various countries were soundly vilified for no reason I could see. They were just so important in the the 19th century to building railways and telephone cabling to connect our large continent.

I am not sure if it was formal or not but some stayed for three years before returning to their homeland. Others stayed for their life, and some being relatively young and unattached, they would have liked a bit of the jiggy jig, or rumpy pumpy if you prefer.

Some formed relationships with Australian aboriginal women and quelle horreur, some married white women, who have may or not be called harlots for their love of a foreign type. White women certainly lost respect for marrying a Moslem but desire knows no bounds. 

Some people's DNA tests must be turning up some rather interesting results as they discover they have some Arab or Indian genes. 

All so interesting and I'm sure someone has written a book about the Afghan cameleers and their connections to Australian society as it was back then.