Two little girls beautiful and bright

Grand Final Rematch
Get it right. It's a rematch not a replay, OK? I've got a great seat and am looking forward to it, especially the bit where Sarah Murdoch announces the winner of the Norm Smith Medal. I have Brendon Goddard in the sweep, maybe he'll take another speccie.

However, nothing we see tomorrow will compare for shear exhilaration with this YouTube clip. Be careful though: Auntie Buggers used up her entire pre-paid credit after I sent her this link. If you're of the Faith it's addictive.

Drawn Grand Final
For me, the most affecting pictures from Saturday were of the two little boys who missed out on their big moment - presenting the medals to the winning players.



Pictures: Herald Sun

Eight Nine Ten
I wanted to do a post today just because of the cool date: 8/9/10.


Caspar is turning a third today. I don’t have a recent picture of him so here’s one of Campbell Brown instead. Under-appreciated by the club but loved by the fans, Campbell is one of those people whose names are never mentioned without certain adjectives attached – in this case ‘Hawthorn hard man Campbell Brown’. Others are 'recovering drug addict Ben Cousins' and 'royal love rat James Hewitt'.

We are going to miss you Hawthorn hard man Campbell Brown.

Julia! Julia! Julia!

Praise the Lord! Even though He doesn’t exist. Julia is over the line and we are spared Tony Abbott. Thank-you, thank-you thank-you.

A Shilling For Your Thoughts
When the Queen Victoria Hospital was demolished Right Foot was outraged. “Now how will they be able to put up a plaque to Mere’s birthplace when she is famous?”
Years later, to our surprise the chance came. As a fundraiser the Queen Vic Women’s Centre resurrected the idea of the Shilling Wall. In 1897 a whole bunch of women gave a shilling each to pay for the construction of the Queen Vic. By paying a bit more than a shilling, we could nominate our own special woman, have her name engraved on the wall and say 25 words or less of nice stuff about her on the website.
So on a rainy day in May 2008, Right Foot, Mads (aged 2) and I were at the open day and unveiling of the first panel of the new Shilling Wall. The panels are modest - no neon lights or gilt lettering on mahogany honour boards here – more a transparent perspexy sort of thing. We'd envisaged something grander but it is a fund-raiser after all. You have to be determined to find the name you’re after. RF and I searched for Mere’s while Mads got stuck into the afternoon tea.
We weren’t sure how Mere would react so said nothing. A year or so went by and we still weren’t sprung. Then they advertised for donors for more panels and we decided to nominate Hil, although she wasn’t born in the Queen Vic. Famous daughters need plaques and does it really matter where?

It’s a cakey sort of week and there's more to come. Two family birthdays and Caspar will be turning a quarter on Sunday. Here he is looking magnificent.

Buggies and Boogies

Last weekend we drove up to Albury where Right Foot was delivering a paper to the Carriage Builders Association annual knees-up. People kept asking us, if we lived in Queens Road, where did we keep our horses? On the mantelpiece in the living room of course.



On the Saturday night there was a trivia quiz which is my favourite way in the world of spending an evening. We competed for prizes such as canvas horse rugs, Zilco harnesses and the services of a stallion. Every second round was on a horsey theme: dressage, show driving, etc. We were reasonably useless but we learnt heaps. Last night, watching the finale of Masterchef, I expressed surprise at seeing the contestants chatting with the judges during the competition. ‘Yes’, said Right Foot knowledgeably, ‘You’d be disqualified in dressage for that’.





We spent Monday to Friday in Coolangatta, braving the waves in our wetsuits and boogie boards and trying not to blend in with the rest of the population whose average age was about 90. Everyone dines at 5.30 and toddles off to bed at 8.
Yesterday we went to ‘the State Theatre to see ‘The king and I’ and were greeted as usual at the foot of the circle stairs by Jeanne Pratt who seems to attend every performance by her company. Her late husband’s scandalous behaviour was all over the front page of the Sunday Age but she calmly sat a couple of rows behind us to enjoy the show.

But the best part of our week off was returning and catching up with our gorgeous boy, Caspar

Some tres artistique pictures of Caspar

Carn the Hawks

Caspar has proven that giving him the same name as one of the Three Wise Men was appropriate. He has decided to be a Hawthorn supporter. Here we see him following the distribution of beanies ceremony.

First, he looks thoughtful as he considers the lifetime of emotional highs and lows ahead of him or maybe he’s thinking about those cold Friday night matches at the MCG reliving his grandmother’s fantasy that one day a reincarnated Gary Buckenara will dash along the Members’ wing.


In the second shot he seems to be developing a one-eyed view of the game. It’s funny how quickly that happens.


Finally we see Caspar howling in dismay at another appalling umpiring decision by Scott McLaren.

Carn the Hawks!

Library Week Celebrations

How good is your relationship with your boss? Do you want to burn them in effigy or do you get on well enough to decorate a cake in their image - like we did?

The Triple Ms have gone back to Germany leaving a big gap in our lives. They were all asleep when I left for work on the last day so I didn’t get a farewell hug. I felt arm-empty. The only consolation was that I had spent the entire previous day with Mads. We trammed it to Fed Square, commentating on the old familiar sights along the way. The floral clock is a highlight but nothing can equal Stop 20 – Domain Interchange. Mads loves saying those words and doesn’t need an excuse to work them into a conversation. She tries out various pronunciations and emphases: D’main Interchange, DERmain Interchange, Duhmain Interchange, etc. Eventually I told her I knew a girl named Domain Interchange – THAT impressed her.
When we got to the playground at Fed Square Mads changed into her dragon suit, complete with head, tail and claws. She got a lot of attention in this outfit and, at one point, from the top of the slide, she called out to me with a world-weary sigh, “They’re all admiring me.”
From there we went to the Ferris wheel. There were no other starters on a Thursday morning so we had it to ourselves. The man locked us in our carriage, started the wheel and walked away. We went round and round, and round and round and round and round. “We sure are getting our money’s worth Mads!” Round and round, round and round, round and round. “It’s very windy up here isn’t it?” Round and round. “And a bit chilly!” Round, round and round again. “I want to get off now Arma”. Hmmm. I could see the man some way off with his back to us and it took 3 more circuits before someone else noticed my waving and gyrating and organised a breakout. I think we are Ferris wheeled out.
The rest of the day was all good. Precious memories to store up for the long winter of absence ahead.
A couple of years ago Mads’ proud boast was, “I’m toilet trained”. Now it’s, “I’m bilingual”. So there’s an upside. I suppose.

Having a second grandchild is a lot like having a second child. You feel much more confident, less scared and, Yes! I can do this!

Some photos and a video of the Beamish Boy





Caspar

More Caspar photos

Beamish Boy

We have a grandson! Caspar James Beamish was born at 9.05 pm on Saturday May 8th to Hilary and Rob. He is the most beauteous boy the world has ever known.

Another Caspar was one of the Three Wise Men and some of the lines from TS Eliot's poem, "Journey of the Magi" are highly appropriate, eg. A hard time we had of it and such a long journey but also, happily, There was a Birth, certainly, We had evidence and no doubt.

Caspar is doing well and Hil is recovering.
A few early pics are posted here.

'Full of expectation'

This is the header chosen by a twitty journalist for a not so great article about our fabulous Hil.

Her new series is being launched but he fails to mention any of her existing works, not even the highly successful Zac Powers.

This guy has no future beyond local rounds

Baby Beamish was due yesterday but the doctor thinks there may be another week to wait. I am getting a little edgy.
Mere was 15 days late and people kept ringing me up and saying, Are you still there??? I hope BB is not quite so tardy. Hil is well and she and Rob are still considering names. They are seeking something 'unusual but not freaky'. I know I will love it.

Aeroplane ashtrays - come one - come all!

James has mounted a display of his famous aeroplane ashtrays for ANZAC Day at the Prahran Mechanics Institute. It's only part of his collection but I am taking the opportunity to dust a few shelves in their absence.
Maybe they'll ask him to do a model boat display next. That would be great.

Get on down to High Street and have a look

Camels and Cake

On Saturday we headed up to Andrea’s country estate in Shepparton to celebrate the first birthday of Great Niece Isobel. It was a gorgeous sunny day: perfect for a tres elegante garden party and a very fine time was had by all.





Only scarey thing was the ride on a camel which I undertook with Black and Auntie Buggers. They were terrified too but just stuck with cussin’ and cursin’ under their breaths while I let my feelings be known.



On the FCS (Fraidy Cat Scale) camel riding scores higher than even the water slide at MSAC, the Glen Iris level crossing or Sister Rosaria from primary school. I spent 3 gruesome years with Sr Rosaria, about the same waiting for the gates to open at Glen Iris and 3 X 3-minute heart-stopping goes down the waterslide. But camel rides take an eternity when you are in constant danger of slipping off because your skirt is too snug to allow your legs to reach the stirrups and the handler delights in your discomfort.



Arpa and I were able to take a quick refresher in baby-handling though. There’s only a couple more weeks to wait for Baby Beamish – very exciting!

Chocolate Shall be Your Salvation

Good Friday is not a good idea. It’s boring, depressing and melancholy-making. We distracted ourselves by packing a lot in: the pool, Luna Park (tawdry but open), a beach walk and finally Catherine Deveney at the Comedy Festival.

More Comedy Festival on Sunday (Pete ‘n’ Dud – Shaun Micallef), two trips to Anglesea to get some mileage out of the wetsuit I bought during our GP escape, a visit to the recently completed volcano (took 130 years) in the Botanic Gardens and that was Easter.




Except, of course, for the chocolate. The Bunny brought Right Foot chocolate-coated ginger and dark chocolate with almonds and me a delicious selection from Chocolateria San Churrio sporting the strapline “Chocolate Shall Be Your Salvation”. I couldn’t put it better myself. Seasonally appropriate too.

Escaping the GP last weekend