December 9, 2013

Spring didn't spring really

It's summer now, but apart from a handful of randomly hot days, it's just not happening like normal.  Usually, by this time of year we're well and truly unfurled in the warmth, like so many little flowers.  And soon we should be cursing the heat and loitering, hassled, around whatever form of cooling we can afford.  Not so.  It is still rainy and cold.  And I wont lie to you.  It's depressing.  I'm really over this rubbish weather and we're making plans to move 'up north'.  It's about time for a large scale adventure anyway.

Here are a few photos from this spring.  Do not be fooled by my photos.  It was not this sunny most of the time.

We travel back to the old hood to get our hair cut because we haven't found a hairdresser that we really like here in Ballarat.  In Collingwood there's a hairdresser we trust whose name is Jens.  And so now getting a haircut is known as 'getting a Jens' in our house.  The reason I'm telling you that, is to explain that the next photo was taken on Gertrude Street (Collingwood, Melbourne, Australia) when we were last getting a Jens.


The canola fields around the Hepburn Shire looked pretty ace when they were blooming a while back.  


I choose to interpret this graffiti as a clever commentary on the pitfalls of locating your sense of self in your appearance.


This is the facade of what was formerly the Ballarat Coffee Palace (a palace for coffee, imagine that?!) during colonial times and what is now a boarding house for the poor, lonely, abusive and abused.


These were delicious cocktails, had at Cookie (Melbourne, Australia).


This is Cookie.  The bartenders here tend to be smug and unlikeable.


One night I stayed at my Nan's house, and this is a snapshot of the bedroom that my Mum and my uncle grew up in.  Support anti-vivisection people!


We went away for the weekend to Echuca, where it's warmer and dustier than Ballarat.  This was the Barmah Anglican Church.


That's a strawberry milkshake being had.


This is the Barmah Forest.  It was very beautiful there.  We were alone in the bush with our salad rolls and it was pulsating with heat and energy.  Like the bush in Australia does sometimes.  There are some places we go to where I feel like I can sense the Indigenous people that have lived there.  And this is one of them.  So I'd like to give a shout out to the Yorta Yorta people for letting us enjoy the land that they have been custodians of for thousands of years.


A farm on the edge of the forest.


Echuca is an interesting town I think.  Like in Ballarat, the colonial architecture is still very visible.  Colonial architecture gives me mixed emotions these days.  I feel a sense of sentimentality because colonisation eventually led my family to this beautiful country.  But I also understand what colonising has meant for the Aboriginal people.  This is a pub in Echuca.


And these are our feet on the cracked earth.  With a bit of bird poo for good measure.


I have spent most of today watching interviews with Sia Furler on YouTube, because that's what you do with days off work.  She is a real gem.  Very Australian sort of chick.  Here she is.




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