Recently in City of Gold Category

"We've a table booked at the Ocean Room. Dinner at 7, is that ok? Not too early?" (Are you kidding? Dinner at the Ocean Room? I could make it work ANY time...)

"I'll meet you there, parking's arranged, they've got your licence plate registered at the gate"

"Really? That's really thoughtful of you, thanks!" (I'm a bit grateful it's parking... in the carpark that's always full, down at the Rocks. Lucky me!)

Of course an occasion like this demands best bib and tucker so I had prepared my hair earlier in the morning and gone the full blow dry with style rather than manic wave the hairdryer in the general direction of the head. You've got to make an impression on these occasions, don't you think???

I went home after work and got decked out 100% sharper than the usual 'jeans and shirt' garb, and made my way into town.

Bit of a marathon. Traffic.

Snarl.

However, got there in time, was handed a bubbly beverage at the door and mingled a little with the bods at the bar.

Gorgeous venue. Ocean Room is down on the Sydney Waterfront. Directly across the water from this big old white building that looks a lot like the Sydney Opera House... (oh, wait a minute... ).

The chair pulled out for me, the napkin laid gently in my lap, the ambience cool genteel. The company congenial *smile*.

Dinner, chicken breast slivers on a bed of rocket doused in a beautiful vinagrette served with mustard fruits (I still haven't worked those out).

The main a t-bone on a bed of garlic mash and spinach beautifully cooked steak. Diviiiiine dahling, divine!

Dessert a cornucopia of mint, chocolate, icecream and brownie arranged in what can only be described as an artwwork. I so wish it could have been politic to take photos. The food looked too good to eat.

He stands, raises his glass, and speaks. I'm transfixed, my heart a little fluttery...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we've gathered together today to honour the extraordinary... (the edges of my vision go blurry and his voice fades into the background as some signal a thought is trying to get a foothold in the forefront of my mind...)

Sh*t, there it is...

I get up from the table in a hurry and say...

"Oh crap, I'm supposed to be taking photos of this"

I just had to post a follow up to Stella's winter wonderland pix. It's one of the things I love about blogging, the whole internationality of it all... we down 'ere south t'border are celebrating the onset of Summer while them up t'north are posting pix of snow and icicles... Makes me smile.

These pics were taken this morning while Shoe and I sat on the beach for an hour or so, soaking up some vitamin D and perving on the surf lifesavers... (whoar... Sorry, didn't get any pix of them... you'll have to use your imagination.)

Just gotta love Sydney.

I went to lunch, rather unexpectedly at a very posh restaurant a few years back, my companion was paying and she'd asked me to choose a restaurant I'd like to go to - "Choose an expensive one". She said.

I chose the Bathers' Pavillion completely unaware of just how expensive it was.

Rather than make a deal out of it in the course of the meal, on the way out I apologised rather ashamedly, that I'd never have suggested it if I'd realised that it was going to cost quite so much. And her reply to me was something along the lines of.

"Life is the sum total of your experiences. It isn't how much you spend, it was worth it to have the experience."

I'll never forget it, the experience itself or that she said this. It has really stuck with me.

I had one of those experiences this evening. I'd been browsing the events guide in June and noted that my best mate's favourite musical was on. I gathered the details, suggested we go for her birthday.

And tonight we went.

The show was 'Blood Brothers" which is not a lovely, happy clappy, romancy production. It's a dark look at the English class system.

And it was playing in Newcastle. Which is about 150km from the Northern Beaches - (given the major urban factor of where we are, it's conceivably a 2.20hour trip).

One Way.

Which wouldn't be in the least bit crazy if I hadn't just spent the last 3 days with one eye closed behind the viewfinder of the camera, photographing our latest 'Big Thing' or if I'd realised that this was the weekend daylight saving finished, effectively doing away with an hour of the already very short night's sleep I was anticipating. Or if we'd booked a night in a motel to save the effort of driving all the way there and back for an evening... But there were kids to come home to, and I've got to hit the books again today... so, it was a flying trip up the freeway for us.

On the scale of crazy this probably doesn't even really rate a 5... not as daft as dropping everything and driving 4 hours for a hamburger, or other things I may or may not have done as a teenager (I'm thinking about an alleged night of ledging around the War Memorial Museum in Auckland - nearly made it ALL the way round... but not quite).

And so, my life is richer for having shared this experience with Kirk. Getting onto the wrong roads for sheer distraction at the import of our own conversations, fortuitously getting there on time in spite of our complete lack of knowledge of the local area... Driving all the way back in the dark talking about the stuff girls talk about.

I'd do it again in a heartbeat... I'm all for adding to the experience of life... and not just letting it happen... so Shoe, if you're reading this, get ready. We're going to Dubbo for a weekend in November...

Mary and Boaz are moving out from the apartment upstairs putting paid to, all prophetic utterances concerning the identity of husbands, conversations concerning the spiritual well being of all of our neighbours, suggestions of means by which I may well initiate discussions of the state of said neighbour's mortal souls (including the delivering of invitations to church events and and prayers for salvation etc.).

It will also put paid to the conversations late into the night directly above my bed (happily I have not been subjected to the sound of other 'late night shenanigans' and thoughts of whether or not such things occur, (given their newly weddedness and albeit advanced 70+ years) are resolutely not to be considered).

In their leaving I have come into the possession of some of their cast offs... First off, a box of preaching tapes. At least that's what they appear to be called... does anyone know what to do with a 'cassette tape'? I have no idea...

An American Standard Bible with all manner of personal family history hand lettered in the front... wondering how I can throw this away... is it a sacrilege? I can't give it away... who would want someone else's family history? As far as this Bible itself is concerned I don't need it... I have all the Bibles I need in my computer...

I have also inherited their printer/copier/scanner. That one cost me a fifty, but as I've not had a printer that worked in... ooh, years I think I'll make good use of it.

A letter box. Which is not at my gate and which is the secret place for my spare set of house keys. Vital given my history with getting locked outside the house...

The 'booty' also includes a modem for local wireless provider 'Unwired' and a favour to sell it for them on e-bay. How does one say "no... sorry, don't want to" and if one even thinks such a thing is one being churlish and selfish?? I mean I took all the other stuff figuring out I can chuck it away and no feelings will be hurt... selling a modem comes with RESPONSIBILITY... eep.

And a 4.5 volt power pack for some unknown item of electronica. Could be useful... could also go in the bin...

As the pair of them have been sitting out on the street for the last two days flogging all their stuff I'm left wondering what's going to happen to the gear that didn't sell... will it get taken in a taxi to the dump? Will it be left on the street for the scavengers (read kerb surfers)? Or will it be generously left for us remaining tenants... as a gift...

It remains to be seen.

I wish them well, they were pleasant neighbours and good for the odd blog post... and now the neighbourhood no longer have to duck their heads when Mary and Boaz pass by, for fear of receiving another lecture on sin and salvation and the healing power of the love of Jesus.

Here's the thing. I'm fully acquainted with sin salvation and Jesus. I'll talk about them to anyone who asks. I just don't go there uninvited. And therein lies the difference.

Ah well, all the best to to you Mary and Bo... I'll see you on the other side. And in the meantime their place will be taken up by a new tenant this week.

A boy.

A single boy.

A single church boy.

A single church boy of the same persuasion as me.

Methinks 'tis time to roll out the Welcome Wagon*.

*and by that I don't mean the kind of welcome wagon as rolled out in neighbourhoods like Wysteria Lane...

Just so we're clear...

I'm on Holiday so on Blog-Free at the moment... Except that today my Mum and I went here...

Gabrielle inspired me last week. I've been remiss with the camera of late (except where it pertains to shooting kittens/cats) so I took a leaf out of her book and took my camera out with me on Saturday morning... Let me introduce you to Manly, a hop, skip and a jump from my flat. [Hover over the Images for their Titles]

Fi inspired me with her Flora pix from her garden.

Inspired me to take pix, not to actually 'garden'... not much of one for getting dirt under my fingernails really...

Anyway, here's what I snapped this morning. I was messing with my macro lens. [ Note to self, do it again sometime. It's a whole new world of pictures in your own back yard!!!]

I was right, of course, I'm still high on Billy Joel. The sound mix was fantastic, the songs all my favourites, even though I've barely listened to him in the last 10 years, they're timeless songs. The light show was perfectly complementary of the performance and whatever I may think about Billy's [suspect] character he's a bloody good songwriter and musician.

I had a great night, and NOW I remember why I shell out [or my best friends do] big dollars for concert tickets!