Sunday in the City

I've seen people doing a lot of things in the lanes around where I live in the centre of the Melbourne CBD: chroming, smoking, shooting up, spray painting, stenciling, postering, arguing, peeing, vomiting, eating. There are regularly rubbish trucks collecting, delivery vans delivering, street sweepers cleaning. One night I saw two guys beating someone up; that was scary but we managed to frighten them away.

There are always kitchen hands and waiters from nearby restaurants taking smokoes.

And shoppers taking shortcuts.

This afternoon I looked over my balcony and saw someone doing something intriguing. I am a huge sticky beak so I even took out my binoculars, but I still couldn't work it out. He wasn't hiding, but he was tucked away down the end of a lane off a lane.

When I went down to check it turned out it to be Andy who lives in the building and who is doing an MA in Architecture. He hasn't lived here long and I'd never seen him around before.

He was working on an architectural model of the new Melbourne University School of Architecture.

His work looked pretty good to me, but then I didn't actually know what I was looking at anyway.

Winter Picnic

Equal with the lazy weekend breakfast for sheer pleasure comes the winter picnic lunch.

Yesterday our daughter M took us on a picnic to Tipperary Springs. It was cold, but we rugged up, we had the place to ourselves, and there were no flies.

We ate Red Beard bread, tomatoes, cheese, baby spinach leaves, Kalamata olives and delicious homemade hummus; and we drank mineral water that our grandson Z pumped for us.

Then, while Z and our granddaughter I ran around, climbing trees and crossing creeks, we drank hot tea from the thermos M had brought with her and oat cookies she'd baked for us.

After we'd finished eating all the food M produced from her basket, we went for a short walk along one of the bush tracks that lead up from the picnic ground.

Thanks so much, M, for our winter picnic: for the food, the company, and for the way you warmed us up in the chill air with the light and warmth of your lovely, lovely self.