I had to drive into Geelong yesterday and the bridge reconstruction between Ocean Grove and Barwon Heads continues and is on-schedule to finish by Christmas.  The new footbridge is finished and cars are using it for the time being while the rest of the bridge is constructed.  There was a lot of controversy over the building of this bridge as interests wanted just one bridge but I’m pleased there is a separate footbridge for us peds and bikers.

Nearing Geelong on the Barwon Heads Rd, I stopped for the “before” picture, and when I do the “after” photo in a couple of weeks, there will be 22,000 houses here. Armstrong Creek is a new suburb for Geelong and the first land sale took place last weekend when 46 blocks were snapped up.  As you can see, it didn’t take long for the surveyors to plant their little sticks.

As I mentioned in the last post, winter is well upon us and getting out of the car for a bike ride is a challenge these mornings.  At least it isn’t as bad as having to play with your rubber ducky very early in the morning.

Out the back gate is looking particularly pleasant with the recent rain and with the willows losing their leaves.

You may remember the long walks we had with our friend, Tanya, over the last 12 months as she prepared for a very strenuous trek in Nepal.

She arrived back in Oz today after a month away and has just sent us three photos of her ascent of the Amphu Lapsta Pass at a gut busting 5850 metres (19,190′). Check out the background in the last photo and the route they were taking.  I don’t think the 20k walks up the You Yangs or along the Rail Trail went anywhere near preparing her for this.

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A very gutsy and determined girl and we look forward to catching up with her soon and hearing the full details and seeing more photos.

Well done, Tanya!

We sauntered into town yesterday and MP hightails it to the ladies shops while I head for my favourite gadget or computer shops purely to keep abreast of new technology.

I pondered over a new graphics card, and when at  times like this hesitation kicks in, I think to myself, do I want to be the richest guy in the cemetery.  Works a treat everytime.

I was ambling through the mall when a caffeine deficiency started to kick in and out of the corner of my eye I spied a decent coffee machine at a Donut King stand.  Now I wouldn’t have given this place the time of day for a coffee except I watched a young kid who looked about 10 making the coffee and I was really impressed.  The youth of today have considerable trouble impressing me at anything but this lad seemed to have the smarts when it came to making a good latte. 

I wheeled around and duly ordered two lattes as MP had appeared on the scene by now.  It took him forever to make the coffee, but for an impatient old sod like me, that was good news as I knew he was doing it correctly right down to the temperature gauge in the milk jug and the pouring technique.  We weren’t disappointed either and one of the best cups of java we’ve ever tasted.

We got home to find this in our letterbox.  To give you an idea why I might end up the richest guy in the cemetery, it briefly crossed my mind to check out a few of the neighbours letterboxes.

Things are a bit quiet for blogging material at the moment but we have plenty of activities on these days and it’s now the classic how did we ever get time to work syndrome.  We’re hanging out for the camper arriving next week and we can get some travelling in before the school holidays at the end of September.

The new Mondeo is proving to be a real fuel miser and it’s amazing to get a 1000k on a tank full.  Diesel is a few cents a litre cheaper than petrol and dur brain has just discovered an anomaly with fuel prices.

For the uninitiated, we have a fuel price cycle here where the price jumps up about 10 to 15 cents per litre every Thursday morning and gradually comes back down to it’s lowest by the following Wednesday.  Don’t ask me how or why. 

We get 4 cents a litre off for purchases of $30 or more at aligned supermarkets and cheapskate here always waits until the Wednesday to fill up with a docket.  However, I’ve just discovered that diesel usually stays around the same price the whole week so there is no point getting into those frustrating queues each week which I’ve constantly subjected myself to.

Did I say dur brain or is it durr brain. 

Wil, from Paradise Driver, left a comment on yesterdays post asking how Sammy boy was getting on.

I rushed off to get this photo of him sitting next to his favourite gas vent.  Very optimistically, I might add, as it was a pleasant day and no need for the gas heater today.

However, he soon abandoned that and headed towards another favourite haunt and fortunately I was still armed with the camera.  I missed him prising open the linen cupboard with his paw but managed to get the ascent.

Not bad for a 14 year old cat.  Like his master, still managing to climb mountains.

We got the call today and we pick up the new camper trailer in 2 weeks time.

However, we may not be able to leave on our trip as there has been major flooding throughout Australia and the drought is finally over.

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know; take it out on someone you don’t know.

I recently telephoned my friend Muppet and a man answered, saying, "Hello."

I politely said, "Could I please speak with Muppet?"

Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude.  I realised I had called the wrong number. I tracked down Muppet’s correct number and called her.  I had accidentally transposed the last two digits of her phone number.  After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You’re an arsehole!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word ‘arsehole’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, "You’re an arsehole!" It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic ‘arsehole’ calling would have to stop.  So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I’m just calling to see if you’re familiar with the Caller ID program?"

He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.  I quickly called him back and said, "That’s because you’re an arsehole!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot when some guy in a black Beemer cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for that spot.  The idiot ignored me but I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first arsehole (I had his
number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the Beemer arsehole too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 182 Main Street.  It’s a yellow house, and the car’s parked right out in front."

"What’s your name?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When’s a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I’m home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?"

"Don, you’re an arsehole."

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two arseholes to call.

But after several months of calling them, it wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to be so I came up with an idea.  I called Arsehole No 1.

"Hello."

"You’re an arsehole!" (But I didn’t hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen"

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"Arsehole, I live at 182 Main Street, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I’m really scared, arsehole."

Then I called Arsehole No 2.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello, arsehole," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are…!"

"You’ll what?" I said.

"I’ll kick your arse," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, arsehole, here’s your chance.  I’m coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at
182 Main Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 10 News about the gang war going down on Main Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Main St.  When I got there, I saw two arseholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six police cars, a police helicopter, and the channel 10 news crew.

NOW, I feel better – This is "Anger Management" at its very best!

When I was working as a meter reader, my compulsory employer superannuation was originally paid into a Super fund of LIT’s choice until I nominated my own Super Fund.

Two weeks ago, I received a 5 page letter from the former Super fund saying they had made an error when transferring the funds and owed me money and would I fill out and return the attached forms.

I received a 6 page letter today confirming the transfer and that MP and I are now financially secure for the rest of our lives and we’ve been saved from the ravages of the financial crisis.

Okay, so it was only $5.17 but the 1 cent interest earned made us giddy with excitement.

Unfortunately, we can’t get too giddy at the thought of half a decent sized forest that went into notifying us.

We planted this Australian native trellis creeper a few years ago and it comes out with these beautiful flowers in winter.  Hopefully the camper van should arrive soon and we’ll be Happy Wanderers too.

For something totally unrelated, we dropped off for a coffee at our favourite cafe after a long walk and I decided to deviate from my usual latte/flat white for one of these.  It’s a white hot chocolate and incredibly sweet, and even though I’m impartial to sweet things, this thing actually hurts your teeth.

Back to their excellent coffee methinks.

My Dad’s 94th birthday yesterday and we took him and my step mother out for a nice lunch before adjourning back to his place for the cake and blowing out the candles bit.  Here we are holding each other up!

Dad’s eyesight and hearing are fading now, but other than that, he has it altogether.  He was born in Paddington, London on 4 August 1915 and spent his childhood living two streets from Battersea Park on the other side of the Thames only a stones throw from Buckingham Palace.  I told him that if he still lived there, the house would probably worth millions now.

He was telling me what a great place it was growing up as a kid with all the cinemas, libraries, skateboard parks (only kidding) close by, but more importantly, swimming pools. 

Dad was a champion swimmer at High School and won many Interschool swimming events and one of his prizes was a membership card for entry to any swimming pool in the Borough while he was at school.

So did I inherit his sporting genes?  Have you got several hours to spare?  

We were travelling around the coast yesterday and came past Bell’s Beach just outside Torquay which is the next town across from us.

There have been reports of great waves and whales at Bell’s and the adjacent beach at Winkipop so we mozied down for a look.  The great waves at Winkipop were still there but no whales today.

Check out this slideshow from the local rag of the whales frolicking with the surfers a couple of days back.

Worth reading how Winkipop got it’s name.

We were having dinner at Muppet’s place the other night when she asked us if we would have a sleep-over at her place.

Ninny: “But we don’t have our PJ’s, Muppet”

Muppet: “That’s okay, you can borrow some of Mummy’s”

I’ll subjugate myself for this kid big time but you have to draw a line somewhere.  Then again, I’ve worn a princess dress so what’s a frilly nightie between friends.

Then a few weeks ago, we were discussing the arrival of our new camper and we suggested Muppet and her mum come along for a trip with us.  The van has two large beds at either end with another bed that can be made up from folding the table and seats down.

Muppet: “I’d like to sleep in Ninny’s bed”

Me: “But where would I sleep?”

Muppet: “You can sleep with Mummy”

This little girl has all the answers, but judging by mum’s expression, not always the correct ones. 

I bought a small clock at the market for my desk.  I’m pretty good at setting devices without a manual (no flashing 12:00’s in our house) but this one was a little tricky so I took the lazy option and opted for the manual.

I read No 1 and could understand “Reply Ascend to wire reply. Reply a hour all and bright 1.5 secondses and output a beep voice” but it was all downhill from there.

I managed to get it going after I located the homologous istem key and my manifestation was exergued.

Bow to the Babbling Gods!

The observant among you will have noticed some subtle alterations to my banner.

Only one incident of note to report.  I went horse riding the other day, and although MP is experienced on the back of nags, I’ve only been on them a couple of times in my life.  I can pass on anything bigger than me.

I had this opportunity to have a ride so thought, what the heck, and I mounted the horse unassisted and it immediately began moving.  As it galloped along at a steady pace, I began slipping sideways from the saddle and started to panic.  I attempted to grab the horse’s mane but couldn’t get a firm grip so  I then threw my arms around the horse’s neck but continued to slide down the side of the horse.

The horse continued to gallop along as I continued to lose my grip so I attempted to leap away from the horse. Unfortunately my foot became entangled in the stirrup and was at the mercy of the horse’s pounding hooves as my head and upper body repeatedly struck the ground.

Moments away from unconsciousness and probable death, an observant K-Mart employee quickly unplugged the horse.

I must be getting desperate for material!

Wow, 13 comments from my last piece of Babble!  I’m on a roll!

If you read the comments from the last post, you may have picked up a reference to me playing with Barbie dolls.  The humiliation I’ve been subjected to by one little girl over the last five years defies the imagination but I’ve just learned to put up with it all.

Like most girls, our Holly Muppet loves her Barbie dolls and mum has learned to go along with it all.  For those of you not in the know, Muppet calls MP “Ninny” because she had trouble with her “L’s” when learning to talk and that was MP’s nickname as a baby.

Anyway, MP Ninny gets a couple of Barbies from the OP shop and pulls out the sewing machine and rustles up a couple of outfits for the bimbos dolls.  Don’t you think they look good?

Muppet came around one day and was most pleased with the result.  We leave the dolls here for when she visits and she enjoys playing with them.

Then came the orders.  “Ninny, could you get your sewing machine out and do some more clothes for my Barbies”. 

Next visit a week later and she rocks in and the first thing she says is, “Ninny, have you been busy on your sewing machine?”.

What do you think we are kid?  An exploited Vietnamese sweat shop? 

Get real!