I thought I would finish tonight with another "snapshot" of my local suburb - Lane Cove.There is quite a bit I could say about Lane Cove, but if I do and someone recognises my photo, I will get even less service in the shops than I do now.
Do any of you remember going to the local corner shop as a kid to buy broken biscuits at reduced cost? Well relive your memories and visit one of our supermarkets where the friendly, Shelf Fillers Volleyball team, will make sure you pay full price for a packet of broken biscuits. However, try to avoid the one that is run by the Middle-aged Matronly Mafia. They do their best to ensure that shopping and getting served, is an experience akin to listening to Leonard Cohen, just after you've found your best friend bonking your partner and your dog has been run over by a SUV.
How about another childhood game - Find The Parcel. Here's how it's played:
Have someone from overseas send you a parcel that you have to collect from the local post office. Pop along, then spend 15 minutes waiting at the counter for the staff to find your parcel. Mind you, it's a pretty hard game because they can never find anything the first time round. Give them a few hints with various spellings of your name, that sometimes helps.
The other day I went to collect a large parcel that had been sent by my good friend Jenny in New York. The parcel was about 18 inches high, and the same in width. On an A4 sized paper, Jenny had printed my name and address - in large, bold font. My name (Hitchen) was also clearly written in capital letters down the side. I had already warned the clerk to look for "Mitchen, Nitchen or Kitchen" as they have a tendency to put their own interpretation on anything that is written clearly. I stood at the counter and watched as the clerk came back empty handed - as past experience told me he would.
"Sorry, doesn't seem to be a parcel under that name". That's despite the fact that if they hadn't sent me a card telling me it was there to collect, I wouldn't have been standing there in the first bloody place. I suggested he tried again. Five minutes later he arrives with the parcel.
I turned the parcel to face him, pointed to the clearly written address and patiently asked,
"Could you tell me, how the hell can anyone misread this name and address?" He replied with the phrase so beloved by the great over-pampered Australian Shirk-Force - "Dunno."
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The road you see in the photo is the road in which I live - about 800 yards further along. if you want a more technical estimation - about one and a half cigarettes and a sit down away.
The trees you see in the foreground were planted to provide shade for a nice little courtyard with a couple of benches. The only problem is, these trees are well known to attract certain types of birds who just seem to love using the trees as a sort of McTweeties. What happens when birds fill themselves up? Yep, you guessed it!
To give you an idea how many birds we are talking about, when Mel visited in 2004, she heard this enormous racket and asked what the heck it was. Mel has a lovely soft voice and I had to lip read to be able to make out her question!
Wherever you may be - be safe!
