I'm the type of gal....
After you've banked your dog-eared Christmas gift cheque, been to Medicare, dropped off a faulty watch at the jeweller's and popped into Bunnings for a gas refill, have you ever taken the time to have a roam around and check out your surroundings?
When I'm not compelled by an appointment or an alarm to be anywhere or do anything I love to observe. Usually the subject matter is people but they are very tricky to photograph on the sly. Stuff around my own local area is pretty fascinating as well.
I passed by a haphazardly-combined Indian and Lebanese mixed-grocery store and, lured in by the hookahs and water pipes on display - as well as the smell of spices and coffee - I spotted this pigeon, trying its hardest to get at the boxes of rice under the counter.
He reminded me of how often I notice - and smile at - the tiny sparrows who fly into food courts, cafes and our local supermarket. One was cheeping away at me earlier that morning from its position on a fluoro light suspended from the ceiling by a chain as I debated what brand of dry dog food to buy. Their existence in our world is often almost invisible, and yet they continue to thrive amongst some of the uglier man-made buildings and facilities.
Further along the same side street was this sign at an Optometrists' clinic. An identical notice was stuck on the left-hand side as well, so that those with poor vision wouldn't keep smacking their short-sighted faces into the glass display windows. I know it was supposed to be helpful, but that didn't stop me snorting out loud to myself.
This sign is much closer to our home, advertising a block of apartments currently under construction. They are situated less than 200 metres away from the grim-looking housing commission tower blocks and are likely to have less space per dwelling but the irony seems to be lost on the people who were eagerly visiting on an open day. As is their acknowledgement that the black glass and silver-balconied boxes' view from the other side directly overlooks the Salvation Army's homeless men's shelter and detox centre. 'Tarting from' is rather apt.
One Star....? Even as a self-rated coffee shop, they couldn't stretch the truth a little...!?
....and it's not far from the Sensible Sandwich. What is considered sensible in a sandwich, anyway? Multigrain bread for sure, maybe some low fat cheese and some fresh salad? It still makes me wonder if some wag might set up a competing shop next door selling Ludicrous Lunches or Un-Fun Falafels. Farty Pasties, Dodgy Donuts or Drunken Doner kebabs..... Oh wait, the last one is already operating around the corner from our house.
A strong statement; shame about the spelling. Although, given my utter lack of street smarts and innercity cred, 'herion' could very well be the new Smack. Or crack. Whack? Or is it 'Dack' in Australian parlance?
There's some real effort made on security at this house. Two mops crossed to ensure that the freshly-cleaned marble entrance remains pristine and no-one slips over and cracks their heads on the white balustrades or cement 'front lawn'.
And let's not forget the totally unoriginal and unrealistic thought I always think when it's late afternoon and my shadow stretches along the road: Ooh, I wish that was my real shape and proportion. *sigh*