The Lair of the Emerald Serpent

I was living in Germany in the early 1990s. Around that time there was a spate of firebombings of houses and hostels where Turkish residents were living. One such attack resulted in 5 people being burned to death and the culprits turned out to be a bunch of young white males. Puffed up poppinjays with an inflated sense of entitlement and resentment and the usual line "These people are taking all our jobs and raping our women." They seemed to believe that women are some sort of property and it was no doubt all the fault of those evil Turkish infidels that no German girls were interested in them. More likely because most of them had no job and no prospects of one with such an entitlement mentality.

So when I heard the news of the church shooting in South Carolina, it was with a strange sense of deja vu.

Mass shootings in the United States happen so often that it's almost normal. But this one is different. Not just that yet another poor oppressed young white male guns down a bunch of people just going about their daily business. But he commits this crime in a church where he had been welcomed. He repays this hospitality with a hail of bullets while ranting about how it's all their fault for being BLACK!. "You rape our women and you're taking over our country. And you have to go"

That alone is bad enough but it is some of the responses to the massacre that are downright scary. So many people are claiming that this is not a hate crime and has nothing to do with race. It is a mere 'incident' according to one presidential candidate and the most outrageous of all that it is really the fault of the church leaders for not allowing their congregation to carry guns to church!

But it's always the same old pattern. When a young white male goes on a killing rampage, the talk is of 'lone wolves, misfits and mental illness. Other young white men are not expected to apologize or be held accountable in any way and they certainly do not need to fear walking the streets.

The killer in this case appears in nearly all the pictures looking seriously smug, self righteous and pleased with his 15 minutes of fame. He intended to sow the seeds of discord, chaos and mayhem and knew exactly what he was doing. That by any definition should count as an act of terror. If that is madness then there is certainly a method to it.

If he had been an Arab or a Muslim there would likely be absolute outrage at this barbaric act of terrorism, demand for government reprisals and most likely attacks on women wearing head scarves or men wearing turbans.



Jon Stewart summed it up perfectly
No Laughing Matter

Out of curiosity I began reading some of the comments and was absolutely flabbergasted at how quickly they degenerated into a troll fest and a pity party.
Nine members of a Black church have been mercilessly murdered and all some people can say in reply
" Imagine being a white guy during the slavery era, not able to have a house because of all the jobs that are being taken by slaves who get fed and housed."

And that ridiculous comment is positively civilized, mannerly and logical compared to some of the rantings and ravings especially from the NRA and KKK minions

As an outsider I will never understand just what it will take to end the United States love affair with guns. If the murder of 20 school kids and 6 teachers was not enough to change the gun culture then this one is hardly likely to melt the cold hardened hearts of the nasty NRA and their supporters.

And how long will it take before the next American mass shooting makes it to the local news?

So it is official. This February has been declared the hottest in Dursleyville since 1910 and the most humid since some time in the sixties. Here's hoping that the same is not in store for March. One consolation is that the shortening hours of daylight means there is more time to cool down on the days we do get those sizzling stinkers.

So the freaky Fringe festival is also over and there's about a week left for the giant yuppie arts festival. Spent so much time on such welcome distractions that stuff like squiggling and assorted online courses have been pretty much neglected.

After several Fridays slacking off, I am now back to my regular schedule of day jobs and stuff. So here is hoping that the new month is a chance to wipe the slate clean, divorce those dementors, clear out the cobwebs and get the old grey cells in working order again. One thing the serpent has learned and confirmed beyond all reasonable doubt is that a lack of squiggling drastically reduces my levels of sanity. It's a tried and tested way to let off steam. Maybe it's time to try other tactics such as walking, cycling or some sort of actual exercise.

There's also been lots of juicy gossip in the big bad world out there. Looks like all the freaks have packed their bags and landed over in Canberra. Question Time in Parliament has been as good as any of the strange circus, bizarre burlesque or crazy cabaret shows that had been on offer here for the last month.

Here's hoping for even more entertainment next week. Maybe the Mad Monk will finally get his marching orders.

It’s just over 2 weeks now since the serpent has returned to Oz. Still feeling ever so strange and out of sorts and not quite here and also obviously no longer back in Amsterdam.

It is scary just how much has happened in six weeks. Not just the predictable sizzling summer but a whole bunch of folks moving the goal posts.

The banana plants and Angel’s Trumpets have survived the endless 37 celsius days due mainly to the dedication of the Dursleys who dropped by a couple of times a week to water all the weeds.
The tomato and basil seedlings were not so lucky since they were only babies when I went slinking off on an unexpected adventure just before Christmas.

There’s a 41 degree day predicted early this week so there’s simply no point in planting anything until at least the first week of March and even so it is still a bit iffy.

It’s too late now to plant peanuts or pumpkin seeds so will just stick to peppers, basil and tomatoes. The way the weather is going in this bit of Oz, it will soon be possible to grow them right up to some time in June.

It’s the day jobs that have done more than anything to serve as some sort of link to everyday reality. Routine and ritual are essential when the old grey cells are still all dazed and confused. That’s one of the many useful things learned from the Izzie sister.

Festival season is in full swing at the moment. Was sad to celebrate the last day of the freaky Fringe yesterday and will be making the most of the remaining freebie shows.

It’s also a time to be catching up on all those friends pages and to get back in the habit of posting the odd comment here and there.

Wednesday 8th May marked the fifth anniversary of the goblin invasion of a certain mad house. The serpent was not there to celebrate and it is likely that no one still there either knows or cares. Had intended to give it a minor mention on the day itself but in the end had lots of online course stuff to do. So it’s likely a good sign that it has gradually been relegated to ancient history where it belongs
But the Megatherion goblins in spite of all the serpent snark devoted to them in recent years look like veritable saints and angels in comparison to their friends in Bangladesh.

In spite of the incredibly large number of dead and injured, this story only lasted a few days on most of the main stream media here. Bangladesh might be far away and over there but there is definitely a day to day connection to here. Those women were making stuff for a whole bunch of big name labels that can be bought in any big box shopping centre or main street mall here
Uncle Vernon was following this sad tale too and read in the papers that the dodgy building housed not just hordes of garment factory workers but retail stores and banks too. Yes. Goblins. They are everywhere

( Cotton Goblins and other Creepy Crawlies )

Easter is a strange time in Oz. Unlike Christmas this is one holiday transplanted here that actually works. While in Europe it is all about spring and the return of life after a long cold and dark winter plus of course all the Christian stuff overlaid on top. In this bit of Oz new life returns after undergoing up to three months of hell also known as our sizzling scorching summers where just about every living thing gets nearly nuked

Been lucky this year. Since the equinox every single day has been simply gorgeous weatherwise. It has been sunny but not too hot and the evenings are cooling down nicely. After a day or two of decent rain there’s all sorts of leaves popping even where they had not been planted. We have been known to get the odd 35 celsius even at this time of year but we seem to have been spared that particular replay of hell this time around.

( Monsters, misery, doom and gloom )

So it will be a whole year now till the next socially sanctioned fix of doom and gloom, despair and misery followed by a happy clappy day of pigging out on chocolate

It is most silly of this serpent to be indulging in nostalgia especially when this very day in 2001 which marked the descent into three weeks of complete misery with a dozen Dementors for company

Today was a veritable picnic in comparison but still jinxed and miserable. At times it seemed the clouds of doom and gloom would depart but such illusions were soon shattered

Had decided to commemorate the occasion by paying a visit to the old lunatic asylum along with the very cute carriage cafe which celebrates its 100th birthday some time this December.

Neither of those things were on the agenda for Wednesday 12th December 2001 which was so disgustingly hot and muggy that even the anniversary celebrations of Marconi’s radio at Wireless Hill could not tempt this miserable muggle out of the house

The point of the visit to the asylum and the cafe was for a feast of squiggling. Not just a bunch of Christmas cards which should really have been all posted by now. It was supposed to be a ritual for banishing the beastly Dementors. It’s worked wonderfully before and maybe it would again.
But once again the misery magnet was working overtime. Around 2pm while sitting on the deck at the carriage cafe it started raining down in buckets. Had picked a spot with an umbrella but using a fountain pen with emerald ink was tempting fate

This also meant abandoning plans to go to the lunatic asylum from 3 to 5pm since the most inspiring places to squiggle are all outside under the shade of the plane trees. So pottered off to the wonderful New Edition book store instead with its cafe and lots of old fashioned tables and proper wooden cafe chairs and trying to avoid getting soaked in the process
It did help having narrowed down the present problems to one central issue. That dark grimoire four of pentacles with the creepy corpse sitting in a chair clutching a book to his chest with his cold dead hands summed up the problem most magnificently

Many moons ago had made numerous attempts to solve the problem of being very easily upset over the silliest smallest things. Would go completely murderous in the old skull but managed to avoid outward displays of such rage except in safe environments such as at home alone. But one day the old luck might run out and all hell would break loose with some possibly nasty consequences
Absolutely nothing worked at all and every attempt to destroy or dampen this rather short fuse just ended in failure. Until one day it happened with absolutely no effort whatsoever

But nature abhors a vacuum and the inner beasts soon found new ways to channel their evil intent. What used to be the odd spare tyre has turned into the Michelin warehouse, what used to be the well stocked pantry is now full of stuff long past its use by date, there’s a veritable menagerie of cute and cuddly creatures lingering around the lair and as for books. We thinks it was Kaasirpent who found the wonderful quote that books breed like rabbits but book shelves breed like elephants (Izzie would have suggested unicorns)

( Hubble bubble, toil and trouble )

So the first week of work is over after the last few weeks of serpent craziness. Had a reasonably good day followed by a coffee crawl and a visit to the local shops to get some milk and kitty litter and a fix of evil green pesto.
The serpent avoids the local shops like the plague. They are creepy and soulless. There will soon be an IGA added to the offerings along with an enormous two storey car park. Still waiting for a half decent cafe in the place. Gloria Jeans does not count as a proper coffee shop.

It was tempting fate to darken the door of that place as far too often a good mood has dramatically transformed into a bad one on darkening its doors. These things then rapidly become self fulfilling prophecies in a Pavlov's dog kind of way we suppose

Got back to the Lair just after 4 with the grand plans of getting started on some serious gardening. There's bouganvilleas to be pruned, dragon fruit cacti to be planted and a whole pile of the cutest little baby banksias and wattles to be planted. But most important is the kitty litter. It's the stuff that cheapskates like Izzie use to improve the water holding capacity of the seriously sad sands here that masquerade as soil.

But that was before taking a sniff in the letter box. What a silly idea that was. A nasty white envelope with a window and an obscene word beginning with S. Oh yessss hisses the Izzie. The useless losers left a note in the mailbox last Thursday to say that they could not read the electricity meter as the gate was locked so they will be doing an estimate.
That should be rather amusing thinks the serpent especially after the last one. The gate was most definitely not locked two months ago but they some how managed to read perfectly well the bit of the meter referring to electricity used but left a big fat zero for juice produced and added a little note to say it was estimated.
How very convenient. Now the new laws state that they've got to pay out on any accounts with over 50$ in credit at the end of the financial year, it was of course in their interest to stretch out the numbers for as long as possible. So that was an extra forty or so silver sickles they got to keep in their pockets

But it gets better. This bill that truly was 100% estimated - once again they used the old reading they had from late May and left the juice produced at zero but they did not follow the same procedure on their side of the ledger. They came up with the ridiculous claim of some 500 or so units used and a grand total of $146 owed to them. Filthy thieving little cheats. Some damned sneaky way that is of getting back the $100 cheque that the new rules forced them to mail out last month.
The serpent got on the phone straight away and made a point about this ridiculous double standard with estimation. Izzie says that we could give her the correct reading from the day the meter people came and could not get in but she said that would not be possible as they are not allowed to take meter readings over the phone.
There were only two options - pay $20 to have them come out and read the meter again and adjust the bill or to simply pay it and then they will adjust it for next time.
Nice little earner that one is. They can stuff up all they like but it is the customer left holding the can.

She kept trying to make out that it was all Izzie's fault for having the locked gate. Could not seem to get it across that it is not the fact that they had to do an estimate that was the problem but the completely illogical and inconsistent ways of doing this and especially the refusal to accept an actual reading
Said a definite no to the second option as firstly we would have to wait a whole year to get the money back as cold hard cash, secondly we do not have a spare $140 just lying around for paying electricity bills as the whole point of having solar panels is not to be paying for electricity any more. But the main complaint is that we have produced 200 units in the last four months and not been paid a cent for them and have been charged for 480 units that we did not even use.

Apparently there is some option where you can become a so called 'self reader' and they then come out only once a year to verify that you are not cheating. But they will still have to come out to do the initial reading and will charge $20 or so for the privilege.

The ma and pa delight in telling Izzie all the sob stories on various news and current affairs shows about folks with Smart meters and smartpower getting landed with enormous bills.
It seems far too many folks just take Synergy's statements as 'gospel truth'. Apparently this meter estimation trick is becoming increasingly common. Guessing that the meter readers are getting sub sub sub contracted out and each layer wants their cut with the work load on the meter readers reaching such ridiculous levels that they are resorting to cheating.
Been keeping independent records ever since the day the panels got switched on. Just as well. The most entertaining bill ever was the one where they claimed the solar panels had generated some 260 kilowatts off peak. Aside from the completely insignificant and irrelevant fact that they used to pay producers around 10 cents per unit off peak but 35 cents at peak rates, what so amused the serpent was to think that these panels are so damned powerful that they can turn sunshine into juice between the hours of 9pm and 7am.
(Now the feed in tariff is a flat rate ranging from 47 cents per unit if you got in before the end of June this year to a pissy paltry 7 cents for anyone after then)
In those days they did let you ring in the correct readings. But even if you don't make your own, everyone in Dursleyville should keep regular records of their meter readings because Synergy are a slimy sneaking bunch of thieving goblins who will shaft you at every chance they get.

So Izzie's gotten all side tracked from the rest of the evil green adventures. The whole point of last week's holiday's which got half ruined by that flu was to be able to go to the Sustainability Street festival in Fremantle on the weekend. Aside from the fact that the place was infested with squawking squealing rug rats for most of the day, it was still most magical and amazing and an absolute inspiration to get out there in the garden and do quirky green stuff.
It sure helps living on a cul de sac which means that growing herbs and vegies on the verges and streets is quite doable as you don't have the worry of all that petrol head pollution.
It was also very noticeable that this old street puts cars where they belong - down the lane at the back of the house and out of the way. Most of the new McMansions with their double garages forming an integral part of the main structure of the house (with some planning codes making this a condition of planning approval) look like they were built for the cars to live in and the humans were a mere afterthought. They are literally the servants of these big tin beasts.
There were so many birds, so many trees and everything blooming and gorgeous. But it was the lo tech resourcefulness and sense of fun and joy that was particularly inspiring. You don't need a money tree to be green, whatever Josh Byrne might like to claim.

Now Izzie too wants her own pedal powered grain grinder. At least the string bean awnings are a bit more doable. They consist of twine on the eastern side of one of the houses. It runs from near the gutters to the garden at a 60 degree to the ground. You plant your runner beans or sweet peas or other rampant growing thing and it entwines itself along the string and there you've got solar powered awnings that you can eat.

Looking forward to making the most of this gorgeous mild spring and getting lots of stuff growing so we can have a little oasis of insanity in McMansion land

Izzie is seriously considering raiding the stash of very dark chocolate. Been driven literally crazy by a dozen dementors who have been tormenting this innocent old serpent since Thursday 8th. At this stage they are heading for a record. Not a single one of the usual tricks has worked to get rid of them. At this rate will be requesting Stephen King to send one of those icky sticky strawberry pies over as a a means of passing them on to some unsuspecting victim. Or maybe that should be some dark chocolate mud pie.

Tried sitting in the sunshine, reading some interesting books and even planting some Diggers heirloom purple beans. Did that today while listening to the adventures of one Winston Smith who had gone visiting O'Brien to organize the counter revolution. Silly old bugger. He's going to regret that. So now these little critters will be officially O Brien's beans. Let's just hope they don't grow whiskers and little grey tails

Was so tempted to stay curled up in the serpent sack this afternoon but did that half of yesterday and all day on Sunday. Supposed to be on holidays and time is too precious to waste. Problem is though that any attempt to go anywhere or do anything just ends up with an episode of the crazies and slinking back to the lair totally neurotic, claustrophobic and exhausted.

Did go up to peek at the pretty weeds in Kings Park. It was a strange sensation. While being able to appreciate how gorgeous they are and at this time of year they are even more amazing than usual, was still agitated and unable to be in the present moment. The monkey mind is completely in overdrive and will just not switch itself off.

There's nothing to be done but just wait till the beasties have gotten bored with this serpent. And it better be sooner rather than later. The thought of having the big weekend at the Hulbert Street sustainability festival ruined on their account is just too awful. Especially since booking these holidays in order to be able to go to that festival a whole six months ago.

Tomorrow will be the equinox and was supposed to be spending it at Cottesloe beach for sunset and coffee crawls in Kings Park earlier in the morning. Will see what happens. Supposed to be raining and cloudy all day so there'll be no point in trying to watch any sunset if that is the case

It's hard to work out which is the chicken and which is the egg. Is it being run down and sick that makes a critter a tasty tempting target for the dementors or is it their soul sapping evil sneakery that invites the bugs in to follow? The only thing the serpent knows is that they pay a visit with their assorted viruses almost invariably whenever the Izzie is on annual leave. They were a bit early this time.

Had been looking forward to this week a good six months ago and had all sorts of grand plans including a certain Dursley's birthday on Sunday just gone. But the map is most definitely never the territory. Even the attempt to sneak over with a stack of prezzies when she was gone out did not succeed. She decided on that particular day not to go to her usual dancing class. And the day before without ringing or anything she came over to the Lair when the Izzie was out and probably seen half of the presents lying on the kitchen table in various states of being wrapped up with ribbons and bows.

They went out to a restaurant for lunch with a bunch of friends thinking the Izzie would be still at work when they got back.


And now the ma is accusing the serpent of being a secretive sneak for neglecting to mention about our holidays. "But don't they usually start on Mondays?" She still thinks we got sent home for being too sick. Fat chance of that. They'd let you turn up dead as long as you turn up in a zombie incarnation so you could actually do something.


She still thinks the Izzie is lying about the week's holidays. Learnt our lesson the hard way. If the ma is still around for her 80th (which will be on a Saturday) and the serpent is still around too and in the same job, will most definitely not bother taking the day off for the big event.

Been somewhat allergic to squiggling lately. Got till midnight to resolve this little issue.
There was tons of goblin gossip this week well worth reporting but which will make it into the nano novel in some form or other.
Then there was the minor matter of the beginning of three goblin free weeks. Three weeks of decadence for squiggling, gardening, pottering, decluttering and anything else a lazy serpent cares to occupy herself with

But no. As usual the Dementors have other plans. They are becoming so unbearably predictable - turning up without fail on the first week of every Izzie holiday. And this time is no exception

Should have been out partying and jumping for joy at 1.30pm on Wednesday but could manage no more than a half enthusiastic "Well - whatever"
Attempts to trick and sneak past their scheming did not work. Tried visiting The Secret Garden cafe in anticipation of the Nano weekly write ins. The fact that this place has so many magical associations and is a favorite spot for playing with the cards counted for nothing at all.

Thursday should have been a shoe in. The grand plans of the day which did not change were to have a long long snooze before slinking off to The Little Pantry followed by the Dome Cafe in Subiaco, a quick visit to the library there to return some books before turning up just before 8pm to the arts centre to see "The Trial" Had bought the ticket two months before and was seriously looking forward to some Kafkaesque craziness

But the craziness was all on the serpent front. First suspected that something was seriously amiss when getting agitated by a bunch of cackling passengers and the fact that the driver got every single red light once hitting the city. Rationally thinking, had a good 10 minutes connection time to the Subiaco bus but was still all edgy and agitated
One of the Dementors' calling cards is that while under their spell, it is possible to think only of bad things that happened in the past, will most likely happen in the future and awfulizing of all different sorts. But never ever ever is it possible for Izzie to remain in the present while they are around. Coincidence? Don't think so

Paid a quick visit to the shops on the way to the library and in spite of them being virtually empty, still felt totally claustrophobic and crowded out. Even tasty morsels like "I am a strange loop" and "Fooled by Randomness" did not do the trick nor did returning that copy of Twilight. Once bitten, twice shy.

Managed to kind of get lost on the way to the arts centre in spite of having gone that way many times before. Rather - it was slightly off to the side of the path but was simply unable to see it.
Did make it to the loo and got bags in the cloak room by 7.55 with the play starting at 8pm

It was seriously strange but good - good enough to be the only two hours in the whole day spent in the present but will save the play itself for another post. But then came the worry about getting back to the train station for 10.20 as the bus at 10.50 would be pushing it very fine for the last connecting bus back to the Lair. The rational inner voice saying that it was always possible to get a taxi to the city if we missed the 10.20 bus got totally drowned out by miserable moaning Myrtle who is anything but rational. Of course is no fun paying big fat taxi fares but the money saved by not having a car would allow at least five taxis a year and still be way way ahead.

Did make it with five minutes to spare for the 10.20 train so had a good 40 minute wait for the last bus. Spent that with the fascinating Alain de Botton book "The consolations of philosophy"
Was near the end - the chapter about Nietzsche. Any aspiring nano novelist can relate to his philosophy. It's the things that are difficult and involving lots of sacrifice that are in the end the most valuable of all.

Friday was more of the same madness and Saturday too. Was up and down like a yoyo that day thinking that the beasts were getting bored and departing in search of tastier souls than the serpent had to offer. If only
Did manage to make some progress on the plotting front. Had been thinking that the last card of the Bohemian Gothic tarot is so gorgeous that she should be the main character.
This smidgeon of instinct and inspiration got the green light when two cards turned up while dealing out four cards for the subplots of chapter 9
Nine of swords had the same woman waking up from some awful ghost inspired nightmare. This was followed by the seven of swords where she was stealing some dark grimoire from some imposing stone tower.
So now we have got a whistleblower trying to get positive proof of the pathetic performance of the managers at the lunatic asylum. Worse than pathetic - downright criminal! But no more spoilers for the moment

So very very happy with that bit of progress and unlike last time - it's before the starting gun and not a whole week into the race that the inspiration arrived

The long and the short of it is that every other time the dementors leave their calling cards, they stay for a week or so - sometimes even longer but they always pack their bags and leave instantly
So while slowly descending to the depths of despair, will suddenly snap out of it with no apparent explanation. The only thing to do is to lie low and wait and not do anything seriously stupid
Did hope that they would choose Halloween for their departure but so far still waiting

If they are still here at midnight, will get them to up the body count. Being all gloom and doomed does not mean being a brain dead zombie - well brain dead most definitely but still able to slink around somewhat but with glazed over dark tunnels where the twinkle in the eye usually lurks
The desire to just sulk and snooze is overwhelming but annual leave is just too preciousss to waste on pity parties

They left their calling card for four days in the first week of Nano last November. They almost convinced the Izzie to give up. But it was the gift of a gorgeous feather quill from a friend and sheer bloodymindedness that kept Izzie going. For some strange reason, a tiny flickering flame of sanity always manages to barely stay alight in the midst of madness. It was that flame that kept the Izzie fingers drawing the cards. Hit the jackpot with the Dark Grimoire 8 of Swords and then the rest of the story almost wrote itself.

So tonight, it's not just the inner editor that gets consigned to a painful fate in the dungeons for 30 days and nights but hopefully a dozen dementors too.

Strange day in Izzieland. For the first time in ages, finally got to see a proper bad moon rising.
Last month was cloudy and Izzie was also so zonked. Snoozed right past 5pm instead of slinking off to the city but the clouds were gathering so it didn't matter in the end

Today was different. A gorgeous crisp and crunchy day. With a bit of effort, after returning to the Lair from the day job at the toxic waste dump, scrubbed the scales and slinked on the bus at 2.40pm.
First stop was feasting at Delizioso - a pizza lovers paradise - especially after 3pm when it's 2 slices for the price of 1
Caught up with the gossip in the papers there before snatching a bottle and slinking up to Parliament House on the hill and the very spooky old astronomy tower with the spirally serpent ornamentation.
This is one of Izzie's sacred sites and places of inspiration. Listening to the radio about all the drama concerning Andrew Wilkie, The Mad Katter and the other independents holding the balance of power just added to the drama. Must post about it all later.

Just before 6pm started slinking off to Kings Park which is the best spot in the city for moon watching. It overlooks the city to the east with very little obstruction on the horizon and used to be a regular lurking ground for sunrises until the the faceless goblins changed the bus routes and this very special sacred site no longer became the last stop of the local bus. With sunrises, there's just no time for messing around with change overs. Such a pity because it used to be such a highlight of the winter months

Was drooling over the spirally ferns unfolding and remembering many moons ago about first becoming enchanted with such beautiful forms. Visited these very places that same day and the experience has remained indelibly etched in the old green cells
Everything was all so relaxed and wonderful until the neurotic instinct arose of checking the bus departure times to see if a trip back to the main road would be required or not. In the good old days, the park bus would have dropped Izzie off at the end of the street and the last one left at 11.30pm. But those days were well and truly over.

Noticed that there'd been some serious rearrangement of the park roads since the last visit. Went looking for the bus stop but it was no longer at its usual spot. Nasty cheap goblins never thought to put up a sign where the old bus stop used to be to say where the new one could be found.If not for a bus arriving would never have found it at all.
Turns out that the last one leaves at 6.38pm. With the moonrise at 6.33 no way was Izzie going to bother. But the fifteen frantic minutes of trying to find the stupid thing ruined the mood of the evening and by then it was 6.30
Due to the hills on the horizon, that would add a few minutes or so but still it seriously ruined the mood. Instead of being all relaxed and comfortable munching on a moonshine picnic. was rushing around like a headless chook and ended up never even opening the precious bottle brought for the occasion.
Did get to see the first golden sliver on the horizon along with a handful of Chinese tourists but was still somewhat agitated.
Why does Izzie lately always manage to stuff up such long awaited occasions with these annoying neurotic fits?
Last Thursday got totally ruined by such a thing - also involving bloody bus BS.

Will be spending lots of September lurking in Kings Park due to the annual wildflower festival but it was nice to get a head start. Maybe it would have been better to have gotten the bus straight there - would have saved all that frantic searching and would have had time to linger in the botanical gardens. But the Izzie had the urge to linger around that old observatory near the parliament - was there on Monday 15th September 2008 the day that Malcom Turnbull challenged Brendan Nelsen for the leadership of the Liberal party and Lehmann Brothers collapsed and the financial crisis truly went global.
Many many moons ago was there with the ma protesting against local labour laws which got defeated but eventually resurrected as the infamous Workchoices
So many magical memories

Will be returning to the same place for the September full moon and this time a bit more informed about the bus schedules so no excuse for being such a neurotic and silly serpent