Luxembourg Locals

It was Sapphire's mid term break because the Swiss darlings need seven days off after a gruelling six weeks of term and, as luck would have it, Love Chunks was going to Luxembourg for work.

As Sapphire's school actively discourages kids being taken out of class to join their parents during term time, this coincidence was too good to pass up. So, erm, what did we know about Luxembourg, other than it was a tiny place that you could supposedly drop kick a footy from one side to the other?

Not a lot.  And yet, some things remain the same wherever we go.

Firstly, I always get asked for directions.  Within two hours of arriving, a woman approached me to find out where the museum was.  Sapphire was able to locate it on the map and show her the way.  The following day a bloke asked me in German if the train we were about to climb onto was heading to Vianden. "Yep," I nodded, when "Ja" might have been more helpful.

What usually makes a holiday something special is the locals you encounter.  We heard as much German spoken as French and found everyone friendly and helpful. The streets were even more spotless than Geneva's ....... except for the mountain of ciggie butts and dog turds on the pavements.  I spent as much time looking down in order to dodge doo-doos (which, when inspected closely, were mostly old bunched up leaves) as I did gazing at the pretty magnificent scenery.

Gotta love a gargoyle.  This was one of four festooning the lower balcony of the Grand Duke's palace, which was modestly tucked behind the main shopping drag and guarded by only two blokes who mostly had their eyes on the chocolate shop across the road.

Possibly a contributor to the preponderance of pavement poos, but this one was carrying an empty Fanta bottle.  She paused just after this photo was taken to proudly show us her prize before trotting further along the river.

This wolf was slightly less active and, despite the perspective, wasn't about to have its head bashed in by a builder's crane.

Nike, the golden goddess of victory and proudly on top of Luxembourg's main war memorial looked pretty dazzling from a distance, but up close, we felt a bit sorry for her.



Being forced to stand at a significant height in a cold country...!  Couldn't they have at least dressed the poor love in something other than the sheerest muslin and kept her dry and out of the wind?



At Vianden, there was another woman who aroused my pity.  Are they lemons or breasts? And I'm no artist, but surely that belly button is where her knees would normally be?

Close up of the bumbled boobies.  One is at viewer's eye level and the other is limply hanging to the bottom left towards the face of the puzzled greyhound below. Not sure that sub-standard plastic surgery was to blame in Greek times......

Nike isn't the only golden creature in town.

..... and the beginnings of the Carnevale weekend saw the train fill with high school kids on their way to celebrate:

Perhaps these two aren't really local, but after a week in a small country, LC and Sapphire certainly felt as though they knew their way around.  Sapphire had her camera privileges taken away temporarily and was not happy about it.

...... but she got her own back the next day with this portrait of her parents, entitled 'We're lost, aren't we?'



At the airport, I noticed a particularly unwelcoming hotel and said to Sapphire, "Oh that's an awful place.  It's loud, ugly and far too close to the airport."

Quick as a flash she grinned, shooting back with "And so are you, Mum."  Little wit bag!

Luxembourg's motto is 'We want to remain what we are.' Words to ponder on, indeed.  

Places to go, people to see....

When not checking out Falcon handlers or confident foxes, I like to pop on my dog walking jacket - which makes me resemble a stocky rainwater tank in a sleeping bag - sip my second coffee out on our balcony and enjoy the view of the distant Jura, the sky and the city.

It was mid-afternoon and the sun was already starting to set when these pictures were taken, but the new winter snow was still visible on top of the mountains.

However I realised that the sky has a lot of vapor trails in it.

Facing towards Saleve, I counted over ten separate trails created by planes flying over us, coming in to land or departing.

These white lines in the sky made me realise just how much air traffic Europe has and how Switzerland, being a fairly small splodge in the middle of the continent, sees a lot of planes passing overhead.

The following morning it dawned blue, cold and crisp and, when out walking with Milly, I counted fifteen different trails leaving lines on the sky. I once read that at any given time there is around 260,000 people up there; or the entire population of Orlando, Florida.

That's a lot of rock-hard bread rolls, miniscule bottles of water and sugar sachets.....

I wanna play too















River has been participating in Sunday Selections. What you're supposed to do is sift through your photos and post up ones that haven't yet been published. So if you want to play too, link back to Kim at Frogpondsrock, add a comment on her blog and join in.

It's probably the ideal thing for me right now because I'm struggling to find time and energy to write anything for 'fun' that isn't related to my paid work. Three part-time jobs is clearly adding up to a bit more than one full-time role and whilst I love all three, the desire to sit down at night in front of the computer in the study and think of something to post is becoming as hard as my desire to ....

well ......

.... eat chocolate and write about it. Or, to be more specific - carefully arrange and photograph chocolate from various angles, take note of the ingredients, website and company history, taste and make notes, download photos, write up an article and post it. It was great to get 56,000 visits last month but the hoped-for advertising revenue stream hasn't eventuated.

Yep, I said it. The GoneChocco blog is starting to feel like a chore instead of the fun it was meant to be. My thighs are starting to feel like flabby flotation devices instead of the firm flanks they were meant to be and my cholesterol level is too frightening for me to face up to Dr Checks again for a follow up test.

As I think about the life of GoneChocco post-Easter, here are some photos that I've taken this year and not used.















Mum and Dad went up to Darwin a couple of months ago to experience tropical storms, hideous humidity and generally reacquaint themselves with the literary genius that is the NT News. Mum made sure that she read her copy word-for-word every day.














Dad was at my brother Rob's house and was goofing off with his neck massage thingy. I think he looks like a cross between a sensibly-dressed ET and Wall-E.















A couple of weeks ago LC won the Individual Staff Excellence Award at the Bureau of Meteorology for his work on a project that has been adopted internationally. It was brilliant to see him being made a (deserved) fuss of, even if he hated it and got more attention from his workmates for wearing a suit and tie than for his brilliant speech. I rather enjoyed being the proud spouse.
















This was taken via zoom off the Lorne Pier as we watched several massive sting rays swim underneath us. This optimistic pet owner was trying to convince his boxer to join him in the water. No amount of 'come on boy, come on' was working; not even having a tennis ball rolled about ten centimetres from his nose.
















The John Wesley statue in Lonsdale Street, Melbourne CBD. Sapphire and I scurry past him every fortnight on our way back from the cruelly-early 7.45am fortnightly appointment for her allergy injection. His prematurely greying hair is mostly attributed to pigeon poop than age.
















Ah Milly. Beautiful smile, but ears set to 'coming in to land' pose as she hears Sapphire singing in the background.

















Seven year old A was not happy with me one day and ran off to her room in protest. I tried to push the door open to talk to her and apparently 'slamed' her leg - on purpose, it was accused. I then decided to leave her in there on her own to cool off, and the solitude clearly wasn't what she was after. A few minutes of slamming the door eventuated in the above note. Thankfully our altercation was cleared up soon afterwards.
















Royal Exhibition building, yesterday. Sapphire was dying to attend the Royal Melbourne Flower and Garden show. It was her week 'off' from tennis and LC gladly stayed home as we enjoyed a few girlie hours together - mostly dodging the zimmer frames and prams.














Hand-sewn felt vegetables! "There'd be a lot of kids that would only like vegetables in this form - inedible and stuffed," observed Sapphire.
















Several pretty dazzling outdoor displays with crowds mostly around the ones featured on the 'Better Homes and Gardens' TV show the night before. "Come here love, this is the one you liked on the telly last night," said one old duck, her 40-a-day-for-forty-years voice cutting through the crowd like catapulted gravel.

'Ned' appealed to me. Maybe one day a craft project of my own..... Hopefully a great deal more successful than my attempt to make three flying fish for the back of the toilet door in paper mache.

















Loads of reds and oranges and I jostled with many other eager SLR squatters to snap this one.



Same goes for the obligatory tulip shot.

















Surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of slow-moving seventy-somethings, wheelchairs and young couples with papooses, Sapphire said, "I'm guessing we won't be seeing the divvy van arrive any time soon." She makes me laugh so hard and it's such an honour when her hand reaches over for mine.

Oink oink

So I applied for a two day a week job in state government. Report writing, research, ministerial liaison. All the stuff I've done for years, in every job bar my current one of freelancer.

Wasn't even worth an interview.

MyCareer, Seek, Careerone, Vic Gov and Public Service job websites are all scanned intently every day: nothing going unless I'm prepared to do telephone sales or 'be bubbly, hands-on and willing to go that extra mile in our fast-paced environment.' That and adult photography for large women with broader minds or office cleaners (but only applicants with experience please).

I sent in a story for the Queensland short story compilation hoping to be one of the hundred they selected.

A long list of three hundred were released, mine not among them.

Got into power walking while my achilles tendon takes over three months (this time) to heal. Boring, much-more time-consuming but important to stay active.

Lasted no longer than a week before it too started to adversely affect the injury.

Noticed this morning that Milly has a lump on her back leg. She doesn't want me to touch it and it wasn't there three days ago. A quick growing tumour isn't a good thing, the vet told me this afternoon. We need to have her in tomorrow at 7:30am, get whatever it is cut out immediately and sent off for testing.

"We'll let you know how much it'll all cost when our head vet returns tomorrow." I soon found out - two weeks of my work.

Today is the last day of Year of the Tiger. Year of Kath the Monkey disguised as a Pig so that my fortunes weren't soured or ruined. An annoying gold pig charm on a necklace that jingled and drove me nuts for twelve months. Fat lot of good it did me.

"Oh I don't know about that," Mum said on the phone. "You weren't flooded out and you didn't get cancer."

Fair point.

Early this morning I hobbled around the oval picking up beer bottles and brown burger bags as Sapphire went running - long legs carrying her further and faster than she's ever been before. She was enjoying it and was discovering just what her own body and determination could do. My own body and patience is being sorely tested but I'll make damned sure that my achilles is right enough so that I can run alongside her.

We walked back home - she, red-faced and puffing from the effort and me, unruffled. On the outside. She grabbed my hand. "Sorry I'm so sweaty Mum, but I've had a great time with you."

I smiled and hugged her; sweat and all, breathing it in as we embraced, loving every moment. Let's see what Year of the Rabbit brings for this old monkey.

Snappy September - Day Twelve - Playing with Camera

Last year Love Chunks and Sapphire gave me an SLR camera for my birthday. It replaced my twenty one year old Canon 'sure shot' that I won on 'Wheel of Fortune' back in 1988 when my hair was big, my waist was small and Love Chunks was merely some friend of my brothers' he was sharing a rather ramshackle, testosteroney house with in Mile End.

As for the magnificent new camera, yet it's approaching a year and I haven't read the 'big' manual yet, just the pocket-sized one and no, the big hard-cover book titled 'Fundamentals of Modern Photography' by Tom Ang is resting unobtrusively in the shelf where it is likely to remain undisturbed for a longer time still.

Instead, I like to play.

I'll never be a gardener but I'll always love the stuff I find in them.

Surely you've got bigger ones?

Location: Moonee Ponds K-Mart, standing in a long queue.
Time: earlier today
My frame of mind: day-dreaming with Barbra Streisand's 'Memories' as the soundtrack, feeling all droopy and sentimental.
Situation: Four customers are ahead of me and my stomach is rumbling.
















Customer One, holding a black pair of size 24 knickers against her stomach, says to the check out girl: "So what do you think? Would these fit me?
Checkout girl: "Um, maybe. Do you want me to phone someone to come over and help you?"
Customer One sucks on her dentures, pushing them in and out of her mouth as she thinks: "Would they be able to tell me if these would fit me or not?
Checkout girl, smiling politely: "Er no, but he'd be able to help you find a bigger size if you'd----"
Customer One shakes her head: "Nah nah, not a 'he'. Here...." (she bunches up the undies and hands them to CG), "......you can have these back. I'll try again another day. When I remember to bring me specs."

Customers Two and Three are a couple trying hard not to gape at Customer One and have instead become engrossed in a No Idea magazine and haven't heard CG say, "Next Please."
Two taps her beloved's arm nervously: "Darling, I have to ask....."
Three: "What?"
Two: "I must be the only person in the world who doesn't know what 'moobs' are."
CG: "Next please."
Two: "Well?"
CG says slightly louder: "Next Please."
Two whips the magazine out of Three's hands and shoves it back into the rack: "What, it's so dumb of me not to know that you have to piss yourself laughing?"
CG: "NEXT PLEASE!"
Three: "Oops, that's us," and he places their homewares on the counter and gets out his wallet.
I tap her on the shoulder. "I couldn't help overhearing. Moobs are man boobs."
Two: "Ohhhhh. Well know I know! Thank you for being more helpful than---" she whacks his gently on the arse "......this old tool here."

Customer Four has only one item but it is threatening to fall out of her trolley.

CG: "How many rolls do you have there?"

Customer Four does a quick count: "Six packs. They're only five bucks each you know." Proud of finding such a bargain, she says it loudly and turns around to smile and include me in her good fortune as well.

CG: "Oh dear, they're scanning as eleven dollars each. Can you lift it closer and I'll try again?"

Customer Four struggles, because she's bought the entire shipment of toilet paper that has yet to be unpacked by the KMart boys and each packet of 3 x 18 bog rolls is sealed to the other in thick transparent plastic on a cardboard tray.

"Here, let me help you." I lift up the box like Atlas under the earth and it scans at $5 per pack.

Customer Four: "Thanks love."

I can't help but say: "Well you either eat a lot of fibre or have a much bigger bathroom than I do."

Customer Four politely chuckles as she wheels her trolley towards the exit.

Suddenly, a huge piercing alarm rings and two staff appear out of nowhere in front of Customer Four. They give the trolley a cursory check, do something magical with a swipe card to stop the din and allow C4 to pass. Over her shoulder she calls out to CG and myself, "All this fuss for three ply!"

Now it is my turn. I hand over two pairs of jeans - size 12 girls' for only $19 - and two pairs of 8A bras.

CG has noticed my amusement at the events beforehand and says:"I didn't know they made bras in size 8."

Me: "Me either. They're for my daughter. I think she needs them and I... just... can't... believe... how quickly the time has flown by." Frack, I'm starting to tear up.

CG smiles. "Geez, I remember my mum getting all weepy too."

I clear my throat and change the subject. "So it's been big undies, blokes with boobs and bog rolls for you, hasn't it?"

CG laughs. "The old lady is a regular and she doesn't recognise me from the nursing course I'm studying. She was one of the patients I looked after during my rehab stint. But we all know her here and do what we can to help, but today for some reason she's here without her community carer."

Me: "Oh? She seems like a character and, let's face it, we all want undies that fit, regardless of our age and size."

CG nods. "I'm off shift in half an hour, but I'll leave these here with a note for my supervisor to find a bigger size for her because Doreen's a regular and deserves our respect."

Me: "You're right."

CG: "There was a guy standing between her and that other couple, but he got so embarassed when she paraded the undies that he left and went to the back of the queue on check out nine!"

I took my bags and receipt and said to CG, "You know, if you ever have time between studies and your work, you should blog about this."

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*