Wednesday, February 27, 2013

of Chicken's feet and other mysteries.

Saturday night saw us going to a nice italian lace which has the rare distinction of being quiet enough to talk - a good thing because we met two friends there, Friends we'd first had lunch with back when Barbs and I were still fearful and new in Hobart, and nice to have them there for our boy and daughter as they fearful and new set out exploring the bigger world of Oz. James and his wife are going to travel around exploring Australia, picking fruit, doing that sort of thing, deciding if and where they want to live here. So: if you have any recommendations - this is their blog - It's Freer on the Road.

Sunday saw us taking the metro rail into town to the inner city. It is, as cities are, a place where, having seen that when you crowd rats they go mad and exhibit all manner of abnormal behaviour, we try it on humans. And lo... it works. The trains are beautiful, but I'm all for catching brats who think it 'clever' and impressive to rip up seats and graffiti silly things on windows with tile knives and use marker pens on the train... a scrubbing brush to clean it off and a good caning. Yes. I know. Barbaric etc. Much better that society should continue to nurture these parasites (because that is what they are - they put nothing in, and cost us) because the poor little darlings still need to grow into nice citizens beating up people, glassing folk in pubs and generally adding value to the world. I'm sure they grow into exemplary fathers.

Anyway, we had gone in to have 'Yum Cha' which is the Chinese equivalent of the Monty Python man who explodes with the last mint thin. There were a myriad of large bite size pieces to sample, some of which were excellent, and some, such as the chicken's feet, an acquired taste. The texture is quite odd. Must be the toe jam. Still, despite the chicken's feet -which i can now say I have tried, a very worthwhile way of exploring some more unusual Chinese food.

Monday saw a great but very hot and exhausting day of packing, and we moved from 1/3 to 3/4. The fine art of getting stuck in corners and packing yourself in was explored in great detail, as well the art of 3 D tetris, and the Australian Matrushka doll equivalent - which does not involve dolls or similar items within similar items, but is a lot inside something which in turn is inside something else.

Tuesday -after a hot, sticky night, saw rain. Lots of it. While this was good for the temperature it wasn't good for packing. Still, a fair amount of other run-around done, and a little packing. I'd say 9/10 now, but the last part always takes longer. Unfortunately, it also seems to have given me a raging cold/flu and temperature, so I spent a fair amount of last night alternately shivering or sweating.

And today... I go home. :-) I can't wait. Helen and Peter have been very kind, great entertainment, fed me, driven me and James and Alana around... but this is not my place. I want space, I want my dogs and cats, and I want Barbs.

1 comment:

  1. I hear you about packing. All my rooms are empty (except for trash) except the kitchen, where I keep finding things. Something of a miracle, given that the cupboards have been empty for weeks.

    Lisa S. in Seattle