Um

Dear Y’s

Whew! It’s hard to recognise today as a sibling of yesterday or her brothers and sisters of the last few weeks. Once, maybe twice I caught myself reaching for the cardie before getting a grip on the fact that low twenties was not cold in any respect other than in contrast to the almost forties.

That was Monday and now, Thursday, its still mostly bleak and certainly cool and I too have been sleeping under a doona. Sundays extreme predictions caused the extreme reaction of relocating my family day festivities from the exposure of the Warren View to the air conditioned comfort of the Livingston at Stanmore where we were accommodated in the almost private loft of the once stables / coachouse. The Livingston’s major features seems to be its multi levels (you go up or down stairs at every turn or room transfer), multi passageways (a third of the floor space seems devoted to hallways, wheelchair access and the like) and its miniature toilets. I certainly found no Gents that featured even a single bale urinal let alone a multi.

I missed the gen ‘y’ influence though Alice and Jack put up a good show and were bravely supported by Alices old pal and now inner west local, Katie, bless her soul. The ‘phone and wake a relative’ in distant cold climes entertainment went well except as I recall in the case of Cat who seemed to loose the connection. Thoughts of Cat were close in my mind as it seemed my last blog had provoked the type of hissy reaction I live (or blog) for. Your mum (Cat) confided that the fools you work for are blind to your world class and refuse to um, ratify your contract or something like that, yes I should take notes. Given the choice I would back you against them anytime and have included below signage that I feel speaks volumes. I should add here that Katie remembers you fondly.

At a personal level I achieved registration for my little bomb which has now cost me approximately $4,100 over two years and five months with the potential to provide another year at no more cost. This works out neatly $100 per month, petrol and oil not included which I suppose is cheap though it could seem extravagant when I consider that I could travel all week for $17.50 on public transport.

At a public level most of Victoria is on fire and half of Queensland is under water as it has been for almost a month now. This amounts to a cost far greater than any I have to bear so I’ll keep any more grumblings I may have had to myself and leave you now with some lame snaps.

Love
Aunty Boomer

The neighbours


Family gloating about how many thet had woken

Not bad for a Brownie Box eh