The Brisbane Adventure, and more
SO: Friday, we went to Brisbane. The plan was to visit the Queensland Museum at Southbank, then have a wander through the galleries and meet up with some friends from an online forum.
The one exhibition I really wanted to see was well worth seeing – but alas, due to the fragile nature of the objects, no photography was allowed – and I didn’t want to spend $10 on a booklet (I would have bought 2 or three postcards, had any been available, but ten dollars is just too much. AH, the life of the pov!)
Maybe I’ve just been at home too much, but I found the hoards of screaming children utterly exhausting. After 20 minutes (which felt like an hour!) I had to retreat to the cafe for a cold drink. I’m glad we avoided school holidays, I can only imagine what hell that must be.
I thought that the museum was very … empty. Mr Beloved was also quite disappointed. It was as though the entire centre was set up purely for small kids. Fair enough as far as that goes, but not the Museum experience we were after. I strongly suspect that the days of quiet contemplation of exhibits in cases are gone for good, more’s the pity. Interaction schminteraction. (And you kids, get off my lawn!)
We then wandered outside for lunch (mmm, love that zucchini slice – it’s even good cold!) then down to the Queensland Art Gallery. I’m very pleased I got to see the “Hats: an Anthology by Stephen Jones” exhibition, even though that was quite busy too. Mr Beloved noted that Stephen Jones’s own designs were very skillfully and beautifully made – often the best thing in the case.
By the time we left the Queensland Art Gallery and headed over to the Gallery Of Modern Art I was getting reeeeaaaaallly tired. We didn’t bother with the Ron Mueck exhibition because even the concession tickets were $10 each – and to be quite frank, his work totally creeps me out anyway.
I think we really tried to do too much in one day – about half an hour after this photo was taken (it’s at the end of GOMA, looking out onto the river) I just Could.Not.Go.On and so even though we were about an hour early for meeting the friends, we decided to go to the cafe and just sit.
Mr Beloved was wearing a recognisable hat – and was recognised (it was the first face to face meeting with online friends).
We made quite good time out of the city, and got home around 6 pm. On Sunday night the police came knocking on the door at about 20 to 9 – the business over the road had been broken into some time on the weekend, a big safe had been removed (probably with the aid of a circular saw) and had we heard anything?
Well, the neighbourhood dogs pretty much bark non-stop, every night, so the barking I heard on Friday night might have been relevant – or not. Talk about crying wolf…
Maybe now the business will invest in some proper security (although I doubt it.) As I remarked to the nice policemen, we get all sorts of cars and stray people down the end of the street because there’s no street light.
I called Mum and Dad at their new Adelaide house last night, too. Week one, so they’re still trying to unpack, but they seem to be going ok.
I’m still trying to get rid of STUFF – there WILL be books leaving via Bookcrossing this week!
Remember…
Remember travelling as a kids, and stopping at the various town parks for lunch/loo break/parent sanity break? I’m sure there used to be one of these rockets in every second or third park (the others having an old steam train or traction engine parked in the concrete, possibly with signs asking”Keep off” but inevitably climbed all over).
I knew there was one in Toowoomba! I even have a (very) vague memory of stopping here as a kid… the rope climbing structure in the background wouldn’t have been there, of course.
Sadly, the bottom of the rocket is welded shut – I guess climbing into confined spaces is considered too dangerous these days.
Mum and Dad are mid way through The Big Move. By this time next week they will have started to settle into their Adelaide house…
As you can see from the clear blue sky, it’s not a terrible day here – provided you can keep out of the wind. But at just on three thirty in the afternoon, it’s about time to start shutting up the house to keep the warmth in ….
Me. Hot flush, recycling and all.
(washi tape frame from Kitschy Digitals kit, recoloured)
One of Mr Beloved’s dear friends sent a care package today, (thanks, Prote!) which included two coffee mugs from the recent Atheist Convention. Also lots of computery geekery bits and pieces which have made Mr Beloved very happy. So here am I, in the middle of a hot flush (just looooove that red faced look, NOT!) in our kitchen. On the left of the photo you can see that the kitchen table has been completely taken over by art supplies; on the right of the photo you can just see the laundry, complete with the unemptied recycling box perched on top of the washer. It’s just non-stop glamour around here, let me tell ya!
Speaking of glamour – I won a gift voucher to iSUBSCRiBE, thanks to the wonderful Girl With A Satchel. I read GWAS blog every day because she saves us money: I wait and see her review of magazines before I buy them, especially if they’ve been wrapped in plastic (ooh, anyone else just hear the Twin Peaks theme?!). I’m trying to decide between getting 12 months of Vogue Australia (which I buy maybe every 2nd or third month, it’s pure fantasy) and Country Style magazine (which is also pure fantasy, but with expensive kitchens instead of expensive clothes.) So far I can’t make up my mind.
You’d think having hot flushes would be useful in the colder weather we’ve been having, but sadly my face is the only part that gets hot. I find myself lying in bed at night with a damp facewasher on my cheek while my feet rest on the hot water bottle. Very odd. I’m not sure if the flushes are physical or psychological (or both, since can you really separate the two?) but I DO NOT LIKE THEM.
Not much else to report here: it’s cold, I hate my medicine, we’re trying to get more things done each day (Mr Beloved is currently building pelmets for the lounge and bedroom windows, to try and keep some heat in); my nose is still very sore and swollen, and my throat still hurts when I yawn. I’m slowly recovering from the surgeries – s- l-o–w—l—y. And I’m continuing to work with the psychologist and psychiatrist and GP to try and manage my anxiety and panic attacks. Not getting much reading done.
Right, getting too cold here, back to the house to do the dishes so my hands warm up!
Another walk in the park – the Wollemi Pine
Gotta watch yourself in the park round our way - even the trees are locked up
There is actually a reason for this. It’s a special tree and Toowoomba seems to have more than its fair share of stupid vandals.
Connie took me for another walk in the park today. I am finding that I get very sore from this, but sleep well – although for about 14 hours at a stretch. Which is ok but kind of cuts into the day a bit. I try to keep busy so I’m not getting too anxious – sometimes it’s take each MINUTE at a time, not even each hour.
Here’s another pic of the mystery tree that I though might be a Rose of Sharon tree. Susan suggested this could be a Tree Peony – I can’t tell from the pictures I’ve found online.
sorry for the darkish picture, it was around 3:45 this arvo. So it’s kind of a shrubby tree with lots of trunks… hmm. not that I have room for one in my yard anyway, I’m just curious about what it really is!
And tonight on tele: Dr Who and Winston Churchill and Daleks – woo hooo!
This is very clever!
Chalkboard Book by etsy seller erinzam
(Seen on Poppytalk (who found it via SwissMiss)
Just too darn wonderful!
Note to self: Get out the Keith Smith books and learn how to do coptic stitch! I mean, I bought Vol III Non-adhesive binding: Exposed Spine Sewings with the intention of getting this right… (although I bought mine years ago from Artisan Books – and their booklists have just been updated, yay! [not that I'm buying anything. Nope. Not until we get some bills out of the way...])
(Although if I WAS in the financial position to be buying books, these two are definites:
[click images for links]
but sadly, boring things are eating up the small amount of discretionary income our budget allows.)
