Seasons that don’t do what they’re told

When you live in Melbourne, you can’t help but be overly concerned with the weather.

You can’t escape it. It’s not just another casual ice-breaker topic like in other, normal-climate parts of the world. The highs and the lows can be so drastic, so contrasting, often from one hour to the next, that us as Melburnians, cannot help but talk so much about our damn weather.

“Beautiful day today.”

“It’s so cold today.”

These aren’t just simple conversation starters with work colleagues. These are real, bonafide issues of debate my non-Melbournian friends. Weather is always, a serious surprise. You can never really know what is going to happen the following day – even the weather presenters guess half the time.

This is true ALL through the year.

One current theme running rampant has been this remark:

“Some summer we’ve had.”

You can’t hear my sarcasm, but we haven’t had much of a summer. Sure, there were hot days; but no real hot, long, drawn-out summer spells usually so characteristic of our humid state. No, we got a couple, at best, really hot days in a row, before a rainy, slightly humid low 20-something degree day came along. And then stayed. For like forever.

I was in denial all the way through. All through summer I kept saying “we’ll get a late summer, we’ll get a stinking hot spell late Feb right into March as usual” (observe my true climate guide for an accurate representation of Melbourne weather seasons).

We are now in March. For those of you who haven’t noticed, we’re actually on the cusp of April. And sadly, we’ve already had the heater on in our house more times than I’d like to count.

I’m a summer gal. I love the sunshine, the warmth, the socialising and the out and about. I love the ease, the mildness that allows you to dress so comfortably, the warm nights that let you dream and gaze at the stars outside, and I love the long, light-filled days. I got caught in the rain a month back, and it was actually fun, and pleasurable, because it was still warm. Summer is just so easy.

I HATE being cold. I hate shivering in the morning as I get dressed, fighting against the coastal wind as I charge my way through the doors at work, and I hate never being able to get the house, and keep it warm, for long enough. It’s always crisp, fresh, and biting.

However, something’s changed.

I constantly remind myself, that winter is always so much worse as we’re in anticipation of it, and that once it’s here, it’s actually not too bad. This concept has helped. But it’s more than that. Summer is easy, but summer means busy too, and finding time to catch up on stuff, to read, to write, has just been so challenging and trying in the last several months. I love to go out, yes. I love to socialise, yes. I love having things to do, places to go and people to see, yes, yes, yes.

But I’m kind of looking forward to chilling at home and hibernating through the cold.

I don’t know what it is that’s made me think this way, this year, and not every other year previously. Is it the fact that I have more on now? The fact that I’m a Mum? Do I need more time for myself and my stuff, because life is just busier now? Perhaps. I’ve always said that winter is only fun when you don’t have to go out, you don’t have to work, in fact you don’t have to do anything at all. Basically, if you’re a bear, winter is awesome. If you can just stay at home snuggled up on the couch with your favourite blankie drinking hot chocolate, reading to your heart’s content and watching all your guilty-pleasure trashy shows, well winter looks kind of rocking in a mellow sorta way.

I am actually looking forward to winter… a little bit. Staying in and lounging in your trakkies ALL day because you can, and the weather doesn’t make you feel bad for doing so. Watching the rain and feeling infinitely inspired to write, and write, and write. (I know I shouldn’t wait for the rain, in order to write, but you know, this shit helps). Using the cold as an excuse to not go anywhere and just basically, be a bear.

Don’t get me wrong, I was still reflecting today, on this gorgeously hot Melbourne day, the (lack of) summer that had just passed, feeling quite depressed that I only got two days at the beach. Just two. I bought new bikinis for this. Baby girl has 3 sets of bathers. 3. She is 19 months old, and she has 3 sets of bathers.

But never mind. It’s something we’ve come to expect, something that is a natural part of life for Melburnians. My most accurate representation of this comes in an early memory, of being a teenager lying on my parents’ bench out on the verandah in the midday hot sun, and then coming inside to green-vision thinking ‘am I going to be burnt?’ to then sitting in front of the heater that night, shivering from the cold.

That’s our city for you. Beautiful one day… screwed if I know what’s next.

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Hippy Miss hangs with kids

Miss Marmalade
126 Union Street Brunswick

This wasn’t the first time my friends and I had ventured down Union Street. No, we had attempted to eat at Miss’ many many months earlier. Then, my friend had been told on the phone that we could come down and just be seated on that Sunday morning mid-Winter – however upon arrival the staff discovered there weren’t only 5 girls in tow, but 3 babies and 3 prams too. We learnt that there was going to be no space for us that day.

They were all very nice about it, and very apologetic. The wires had gotten crossed over the phone, something to do with renovations, and not realising how big of a group it was. We ventured down the street and ordered at a café where you pay at the front and then some greasy eggs get plonked on your plate in front of you while you and your friends scavenge for chairs and make the place your own. We were hungry so we were satisfied, and we were happy, as all friends in good company always are. You don’t need a special venue. You just want the people around you to make you smile.

However it is human nature to always want it ALL.

I’m a bit of an elephant. I don’t forget. I didn’t forget that Miss Marmalade was rated decently on the Urbanspoon brekkie list, I didn’t forget how lovely the staff were in their apologies, and I didn’t forget that they surely would have renovated by now.

8 months later, and the same group of girls were due to catch up again, once again with 3 prams, but this time requiring high chairs, and hopefully some kind of play area to keep these cheeky toddlers busy. I’d read about something for kids at Miss Marmalade’s, and unfinished business had me calling up and booking a table for us on a late Saturday morning in mid-March.

I was very happy to hear they took bookings. 5 girls and 3 prams and 3 kiddies needing 3 highchairs can’t just rock up anywhere. Establishments that take no bookings frustrate me. I realise they may have unreliable clientele, but really, if that is the case…. piss them off, or something. Lucky for me, on the several occasions I called Missy (1st to find ascertain if they did take bookings; 2nd time to actually book; and then 3rd to add high chairs) I had really lovely, welcoming, accommodating people on the other line. It was all too easy. I was secretly apprehensive that somehow, something would fall through and we’d be left stranded again heading for the greasy eggs, but fortunately for us that didn’t happen.

We had a nice venue this time. I don’t know how it looked like before its renovation, but it was cosy inside, a typical upmarket-hipster Brunswick café. We were seated in the back room via the long corridor running alongside the kitchen. There were a few tables in there allowing for more seating away from the front room, with a little play nook in one corner for the kids to (sit and) play. This room was not as done-up as the front room, looking a bit plainer, but it would have to do for us lot.

We had a great big spacious long table which was positioned at one end of the room, which meant we could take up all the corners surrounding us and the back wall with all our prams and bags and accessories and crap. This was good. Every so often a woman would walk by us heading towards a door at the back of this room, and confirm that we were doing well. She was totally loving our kids, and engaging with them and making sure every single one of them was getting her attention. She wasn’t fake either, she was totally into them, and very obviously loves kids, as well as her job. She was really lovely.

The other woman tending to us, our more regular waitress, wasn’t so smiley. She was ok, she just seemed very serious, maybe overwhelmed by us lot? Don’t know. I much preferred happy-baby lady.

To the damn food, you say. From the kid’s menu, with the omission of the bacon, I got egg on toast for baby girl

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Two problems with the above. The camera on my phone was playing up and the flash above kept going off so that by the time I got a half decent photo I was in the midst of buttering her bread. Many shit photos of late, I know, I’m sorry. Have an impatient and hungry toddler at your side and see how you go.

Second. First I had asked for the egg to be fried, then I changed my mind and said “give me scrambled.” I got a poached egg. That’s fine, but yeah. Okay. I realise I may have confused the waitress by changing my order and all, and our table and all the commotion may have been freaking her out, but at the end of the day, that’s what I wanted.

I think baby girl’s brekkie was fine, nothing amaze-balls, it was just egg on toast after all. It was a fairly large plate for such a small kids meal, it would have looked so much better on a smaller plate. Just sayin.’ It was my rad camera skills that made the above look so huge.

To my meal! This really was brunch for me, and the thought of doing a sweet dish felt really naughty especially since it was lunchtime, but when I saw the special of

Sweet brioche French toast with vanilla bean, mascarpone, caramelised banana and praline crumbs

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I just had to go there.

It looked great. I was pleased that it was sweet, but didn’t leave me with that sickly sweet feeling I get from many sweet brekkie options. And of course, as suspected I did wonder whether I should have just stuck to my regular savoury route and gone the green fritters, but I was still really happy with the meal. I didn’t get any caramelisation from the bananas, but I loved the crunch of the praline crumbs, and the vanilla bean and mascarpone… well, you can imagine. Specials don’t often hang around. I can always go back for the fritters. This dish left me feeling happy.

The cappuccino I’d ordered looked great.

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I love coffee art. It’s just rad. I would say that a chocolate-sprinkled image floating on your cup of caffeinated beverage makes the beverage taste better, and this coffee did taste nice and smooth, but I’ve had better. Maybe my expectations of having this much-ado’d-about 5 senses coffee made me expect too much, I don’t know. Much like the whole brunch. I’d been happy with certain aspects, but I left feeling like ‘just another Brunswick café,’ rather than ‘Wow, Miss Marmalade’s was awesome!’

Food: 7.5/10. Presentation of my food was great, baby girl’s not so much. Loved the flavours and contrasting textures in my brioche too.

Coffee: 7.5/10. Smooth, just maybe not my style to taste.

Ambience: Just think Brunswick café. Busy on a Saturday morning.

Staff: Baby waitress was great, the other one a tad serious. I think the majority are really lovely though, as the guy at the register putting through my bill said to me “have a lovely day” with sincerity, and I left thinking ‘that was really nice.’ You can separate the real ones from the fake ones, always.

People: Younger crowd, 20-ish dominated our room, groups of these ones were everywhere. A few older family-oriented groups were in the front room, but all-in-all, there were no people goo-ing at babies here. They kind of just stared and watched, not really knowing how to react. LOL. Baby waitress was the exception.

Price: I paid upwards of mid-$20s for my meal. On par for that side of town.

Advice: Book if you’re going on the weekend, most definitely if you have a bit of a group going with you. It is kid-friendly with the play area in the back room, which I was very happy with as it kept baby girl slightly occupied (note, slightly).

In a nutshell: Despite feeling the very smallest amount of dismay due to over-expectancy, I do want to try this place again to understand what all the fuss is about. Staff were lovely, food presentation was great, and their fancy cupcakes up against the cash register looked appealing. There is no reason why you shouldn’t try this place.

Miss Marmalade on Urbanspoon

Doing, doing, to-dos…

Recently, after my blog post about How to MAKE it while doing it all, I came across a bit of an organisational revelation.

You see, ever since reading Richard Carlson’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff at the beginning of my I-can-achieve-anything revolution, I have learnt, and unsuccessfully have had to come to terms with the truth that your ‘Inbox’ will never be emptied out.

Your inbox, that being your to-do list, your list of chores, of people to meet up with, the things you need to buy, etc – if it’s a to-do, and it has to be done, hear this, and hear it well: you will never finish them ALL.

This has been difficult to accept from an over-accomplisher like myself. I thrive from having a to-do list, but too many things on my list and I get overwhelmed. Too little (I can’t believe it either but that does happen) I start to wane from my resolution to achieve them all, and begin to procrastinate on the tasks.

A month or so ago I did some simple things, things that I’ve been putting off for ages. Those tasks can be so menial, but because you’ve been thinking of doing it for 7 months, it suddenly becomes so hard. The thought of doing them becomes so big, simply due to the time spent thinking about it, rather than the actual fact of it being such a simple and minor task. But these tasks I did a couple of.

I did some other things too. Tidying, clearing, sorting – things that may seem so boring to some but that I find utterly therapeutic. It’s important to focus on your goals, your dreams, yes, but if your house is in clutter, so will your head be too. You need to clear ALL the clutter to really re-organise what you’re going for in your mind.

What really struck me, was the way I felt after doing these little jobs. To offer insight and example, they were:

1. To purchase a personal domain name: (note smikg.com now exists!)

2. to create a Goodreads account

That was it. The personal domain name I’d been thinking of for almost 6 months I think. Every time I logged into wordpress I’d see the familiar ‘purchase smikg.com for $18!’ I’d wanted to set up the Goodreads account for a while too, though for not as long.

What held me back on accomplishing these two tasks was:

1. time required

2. frame of mind

3. the length of time I’d been procrastinating on it.

I didn’t know how long the tasks of purchasing a domain/setting up a Goodreads account would take. Having a toddler I needed to find the adequate amount of time to do it, and yet I didn’t know what that would be. I needed to be alert and aware, especially for the setting up of my account, and so didn’t want to leave it ’til the end of the day when I usually was spent from everything. And the longer I put both these things off, the longer it took to muster the motivation to do them.

During baby girl’s nap one day I found myself at my laptop, and thought to myself ‘I need to purchase smikg.com/set-up Goodreads one day.’

My next thought was ‘why don’t I do it now? What am I waiting for?’

Within an hour, I’d done both. I was rapt. And the unbelievable thing was, now that those tasks were done, they were done! Finished. Things I’d been thinking of doing for so many months I could now cross off my to-do list, and they’d barely taken an hour to accomplish.

These are my points.

1. Just do it. Many jobs can be done so quickly if we just push our indecision/uncertainty/lazy arses to the side and get it done! Like Gretchen Rubin talks about in her book The Happiness Project, if a job takes less than 5 minutes to do, do it. Do it, do it, do it. You’d be amazed at how much you can do, and how much can be done, when you abide by this simple rule.

2. Categorise your to-dos. This has been a huge revelation to me. There is no disputing that there will always be something for you to do, and your inbox will always have a few bills waiting for you, with some minor house renovations waiting for your (un)skilled hand to have a go at. But if you categorise the things that will be complete once you’re done with it, versus your ongoing jobs, you will lift a load off your chest, let me tell you. My purchasing of my domain name and setting up Goodreads was a once off job, therefore I’m now done with it. However maintaining goodreads, and my wordpress account, is an ongoing job. I literally, LITERALLY have over 1000 photos waiting to be sorted and filed into photo albums (yes I’m old school, I still do that) spanning over 2 years since falling pregnant with baby girl. Sorting them all will be a temporary, massive hoorah! moment when it’s done, but then maintaining my photos will be ongoing. It’s important to categorise your jobs and tasks into once-off or ongoing things, just to save you some unnecessary headaches over a never-diminishing inbox.

3. Aim to get one ongoing and one once-off job done per week. If your tasks are so huge that you require more time, allow yourself the time required to fulfil them, but nonetheless, don’t procrastinate and make sure you stick to your aim. Also remember, a little bit of push and shove is necessary too. We get slack when we relax too much. Chipping away at your to-do list and getting things done, even at a slow pace, inspires you to want to do more! True story.

4. Get a cute notepad/diary/to-do list. Any smart person knows that pretty things actually work, because we suddenly want to use them and be ‘proactive.’ Whatever works my friends, whatever works.

Where the salmon is more than ‘Well’

Wellers of Kangaroo Ground
150 Eltham-Yarra Glen Road, Kangaroo Ground

Booking this place on a Sunday afternoon over the Labour Day weekend was too easy. We’d decided to venture out to dinner Eltham-way, and found this restaurant easily on the Urbanspoon kid-friendly list. I came across the Wellers web site, found their menu, and easily discovered that there was plenty of yummy food on offer. I called, and heard that there was easily more than enough room for us that night. In a space of 5 minutes, we had easily searched, discovered, and booked.

It was too easy.

Off we ventured, driving on a hilly and winding path through Eltham that led us to Kangaroo Ground. Parking on the gravel car park and seeing the view before us, made us feel like we were away, even though our efforts to go away for the long weekend had fallen through: this was just as good.

Inside it was rustic and warm – the atmosphere that is. More on that later. There was plenty of space, and we saw that yes, there were plenty of places to sit, with the groups of people that were there spaced out alongside the windows so they could enjoy the view of the tranquil countryside laid out before them. We had been secured a table by the window too, which made things all the more welcoming.

Although there was plenty of timber around, there was a cultured quality about the place. The surroundings were comfortable and relaxed, a little poshy but still chilled, and friendly. A cozy refinement, you might say.

The majority of the seating was inside, however out through several wooden double-door routes, was a porch that a few tables for two were lined up on. Also at one end of this, were two long tables for larger groups. I can imagine how enjoyable the outdoor seating would be on a warm day.

I made the point of requesting baby girl’s food arrive ASAP – and fortunately after Hubbie’s beer and my Pinot Noir of Kangaroo Ground arrived, we received both her meal

Chicken schnitzel with steamed vegetables and mashed potato

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And our starter: Turkish bread with minted sweet potato, beetroot and tzaziki dips and olives marinated with thyme, garlic and lemon

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I need to go back a bit. When I had first perused the Wellers web site at home prior to booking, I had noticed the kids menu stated “children 12 and under eat free every Sunday evening.” Hubbie and I thought it might be a tad too expectant that this should still apply on that day, being the Labour Day weekend, even though it was a Sunday. But, it was! We had the children’s menu waiting on our table when we arrived, with the same message running alongside the bottom advising us ‘free!’ I was impressed with the options on offer, with 5 children’s main meal options, and 2 dessert options. And, it was only one kid’s meal you got for free per child, but still, that was already a bonus.

This was a very fancy and wholesome looking kid’s meal. Unfortunately I had started cutting through it before the above photo was taken, so it looked much better when it first arrived – my bad. The chicken was deliciously golden crumbed, still steaming hot, placed over a beautiful pile of mashed potatoes with vivid green vegetables to accompany. The green of the vegetables was a very healthy colour too, I might add.

She ate a fair portion of her meal, which attests to the meal as well as her appetite (!)

I just have to mention again, how homely and yummy her meal looked. I wanted it!

Our dips were good, but there was nothing overly amazing about it. We had three dips, a tzatziki, sweet potato and beetroot one, with a portion of mini breads and some olives on the side. It was definitely mini breads, not Turkish bread. Maybe they had an outage? It was a shame since I was looking forward to it, and it would have been so much nicer rather than the hard little pieces of bread we received instead. It actually wasn’t a whole lot to share between two people, especially for the price of $19, but that’s not to say it didn’t taste good as we ate it all up.

We had ordered our mains when our starters had arrived, so after a bit of a walk outside to help baby girl expend some much needed energy after her filling meal – discovering the old emptied-out tram on one side of the yard, watching the wine-making process in a mega-barrel on another parcel of land below, and picking up rocks – we ventured back to find our mains ready and waiting.

After much internal debate, swaying back and forth towards the seafood pasta, I had decided on the other and gone the salmon.

Tasmanian grilled Atlantic salmon with an Asian style mango salsa served with sauteed Asian greens and jasmine rice

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Hubbie had had his own scale-tipping process, but had decided on the char-grilled port cutlet over the scotch fillet.

Char-grilled pork cutlet with apple and pear confit, smashed chat potatoes and tossed spinach served with a port jus

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I LOVED my meal. The salmon was perfect (I had asked for it to not have any raw parts) and the mango salsa, with its combination of spanish onion, tomato and mango was delicious. Lip-smackingly good. The rice was that extra bit of grain that was necessary in amongst the very healthy meal, while the asparagus, bok choy and snow peas had that same vibrant green colour, which I was very happy about. Texture and taste of the vegetables was perfect. My plate looked so fresh and lively, and taste-wise my expectations were completely fulfilled. I was so hungry, I could have had more. But that’s ok, it meant I had room for dessert.

Sadly, Hubbie didn’t have my same enthusiasm for his meal. He was looking forward to a char-grilled pork cutlet, but didn’t think, with the taste that was there, that it actually was char-grilled. It was a big piece of pork with a thick piece of fat on the side, and the fact that it was such a big piece upset him. When I asked why, he said that a larger than normal cutlet like that suggests at a big pig, meaning an older pig. Smaller cutlets = smaller, younger pigs.

I didn’t ask about the other components of his dish, nor did he tell me, because well, for a butcher, it’s all about the meat. I was disappointed that because he was upset, it most likely meant he wouldn’t want to come back to the restaurant… I was already a little bit in love with the place. The surroundings, the ambience, the yard outside, the staff, the menu… the free kids meal! However when he said “next time I’ll order the scotch fillet,” my shoulders relaxed and my happy smile returned.

It’s why I think it’s so important to look at the whole, rather than just the parts, when you go to a restaurant, and why I do look at so many facets of the restaurant experience to create the ‘big picture’ to then blog about. Sure, food is a very important factor, in fact, many would rightfully argue, the most important one. Right. True. When you go to a place like Wellers though, and see the quality there, and see the results on your plate but the dissatisfaction on your partner’s face, you go ‘well, where did it go wrong? Is the pork to be avoided here? Was it this pork cutlet?’

You kind of forget the pork was ever there and just move on to dessert, which is what we did.

Hubbie got the affogato

Affogato – espresso coffee with vanilla ice-cream and Frangelico liqueur

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I got the Warral honey pannacotta served with Yarra Valley strawberry salad and rose syrup

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and baby girl got some ice cream!

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Let’s start with baby girl. She loved the ice cream (not a news flash). I loved the pannacotta. It was honey-sweet, and though at first it was beautiful, with that lovely hint of honey, the honey grew stronger as I got through more of the dish, so that at the end I was all honeyed out. But still, a really light way to end the night.

Hubbie enjoyed his affogato, and after tasting some of the coffee and ice cream I have to say the flavour of the coffee was really good. I thought the presentation was cute and a bit interesting, the way they had lined up the biscuit and chocolate buttons opposite each other on the plate. I was glad he was pleased.

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(another pic just because I liked the presentation!)

Food: 7.5/10. My meal was amazing. Baby girl’s was of really high quality for a children’s meal. Hubbie was not so rapt with his main. I want to score on my meal, but I have to score on everything… so the above is a present score, with 8/10 being a potential score.

Coffee: 7.5/10. From what I could gather through the ice cream.

Ambience: Refined comfort. An abundance of wood, a fireplace that hopefully gets cranked up in winter, lights scattered across the ceiling to create a romantic, magical quality come night-time, and peaceful views across the fields make this a really special place.

However! The only drawback was the air conditioning. It had been a warm, mid-20s at most, degree day, and although it had been hot during the day, walking in the sun at the peak of its heat, going into a restaurant post 6:30pm for dinner, was not a time of day that it needed to be blasting!

We didn’t get it, and still don’t. It was really cold. I think it was cold throughout, but it must have been really hitting our table hard, especially at Hubbie. He asked for it to please be turned down, and they immediately complied… but it was still cold. He even had to go to our car for his jacket! It was something that just wasn’t necessary, on a not-hot-at-all evening.

Staff: Great. Our waitress was really lovely, with us, with baby girl, and accommodating with our requests concerning air conditioning and baby change tables. She was genuine and sincere throughout, and really we try not to be too demanding, really we try…

People: Lovely. The couple beside us were late 40s-50, and I was initially concerned may not have the patience for an 18 month old to stare at them curiously until they respond, but fortunately they did smile! And talk to her! And give her a little attention, which is more than what I would have asked for, just a smile. The other patrons were of the same age, mostly couples, with some older families there, maybe of the mid-30s to 40 range? I think a few families took advantage of the ‘free children’s meal’ offer for that Sunday.

Price: We paid about $123 I think it was, all up. Some items on the menu were decent, yet the dips were a bit overpriced we felt. The kids’ ice cream was a generous serve at $4.50, while our mains were both $28… and mine was definitely worth every coin. Combined with the alcohol, it all made sense.

Advice: I don’t think I have any, other than to say “go.” I wouldn’t even say book, because of the ample seating available. Even on a non-public holiday weekend, there would be plenty of seating free.

Actually, no, I lie. There is live entertainment that Wellers hosts on special nights, featuring many popular Aussie artists, and I believe you can book a dinner and show package for those nights… so for that, book!

In a nutshell: We will definitely be going again. In fact I’m thinking of making a booking for a family event coming up in a couple of months’ time, and their backyard area would make it a great space for us all to chill out, drinking wine, eating in abundance and letting the kids explore the outdoors. I was really happy with many components of the night, and despite Hubbie not being overly-pleased with his main, I just know he’ll fall in love with something else on the menu…

Easily.

Wellers of Kangaroo Ground on Urbanspoon

Things that shit me… #6

Bicyclists.

Yes you bunch of mofos. In particular the bunch that ride around without a care in the world around my place of employment.

I was walking to my car after finishing my work shift the other day. I pressed the button so I could get a green man at the intersection I was at, however knowing those lights all too well, knew it’d be a couple of minutes ‘til that opportunity actually came. So I took out my mobile and perused aimlessly through facebook, scroll, scroll, scrolling along.

In that time another person came up next to me to wait to cross the road as well. I knew the green man was coming, and sure enough within moments I had the familiar ‘ticker ticker ticker’ signalling that yes, he was flashing, we could walk across the road… safely. As one would normally assume.

I hate those annoying people who walk stupidly with their faces in their mobiles/musical devices, so as the ticker started I put my phone at my side and lifted my head, proceeding to now cross the said-before, apparently SAFE road.

As I stepped onto the road, taking one, then two steps, suddenly a bicyclist, careening down the road, jutted onto the pedestrian path out of nowhere, forcing me to stop and sidestep him rather abruptly, almost forcing me off balance. This bicyclist didn’t seem to notice, or had chosen to ignore, that from his end, he had a red light, which is why I was allowed to cross the road. No, he just thought he’d cruise on through, past all the stationary cars beside him, and go on to ride through the pedestrian path and bash into any unsuspecting pedestrians waiting to cross the road when it was their turn, and not his.

And then, as I sidestepped him and he kind of, paused, I noticed with real irritation as I looked back to give him a greasy, that he had kept going! He had ridden through the pedestrian path, ignoring the red light, and just kept going. He hadn’t even acknowledged me or looked apologetic, not to mention the thought of actually opening his mouth and muttering a half-sincere ‘sorry.’ Nothing!

I was so peeved. See, if a car had ignored their red light and travelled forward and almost hit a bicyclist due to the driver’s stupidity, well you can bet a fat kid’s smartie that that bicyclist would have let the driver know about it, doing the whole ‘knock on the car’ thing and talking into the window with a “watch what you’re doing!”

Oh yes. But when a pedestrian is at risk of being bowled over by a bicyclist. It’s ok. It’s not too bad. The force isn’t as great.

It’s the freaking moral you loser bicyclists! Ahhhhh! I’m so pissed off at them right now!

And it’s the other ones too. Like when I’m waiting at a light, wanting to get to work, and standing safely away and not on the actual bicycle path, and the dickheads ride past me at full speed, whizzing by so close they graze the hairs on my arm.

Those bicyclists too, shit me, so BAD. They ride so close because they wanna ride on that smooth part of their path, the path that doesn’t make their bikes rattle.

Well you know what you asses? I wanna stand there and not have the fear of unnecessary lint forming on my clothes due to the excessive wind forced upon me by bicyclists pretending it’s ok to ride by me and touch my clothing/bag/arm hairs.

Seriously you guys. Just be decent, and stop calling the kettle black when it comes to drivers. You’re just as bad.