It’s times like this when I’m standing in a freezing cold park in west albury at 9am on a Sunday morning waiting for permission to walk 4.3kms with a bunch of school kids that I question my life choices.

Update 09.36

Scotts School just showed up with bagpipes and a big fuck off drum. Becausd that’s definitly what this Sunday morning fun run was missing.

Update 09.43

Just had a thought… what if they do the school can with the bag pipes…  okay I take back all my sarcastoc under and overtones. That would be amazing. 

ShitTown – Chapter 4

After hearing about the mottos on the sundials earlier episode I went looking because I was sure the one in our town was more positive than the grim mottos in ShitTown.

Let others tell of storms and showers, I’ll only mark your sunny hours.

Not bad huh! A little cheesy but I like a sundial that can acknowledge its limitations.

On to the episode. I’m now assured, and I checked, that I’m listening in the right order. So it’s definitly providing some context to his abruptness about suicide. It’s bizaare the way he relates the practicalities of his early death in a way that we are lead to believe people who are serious about suicide never do. But maybe the reason that people who talk about suicide seldom carry through is because some one listens and intervenes, not because the intention isn’t there. But when you are continually suicidality depressed like John there is so much intervention involved, so much loneliness, how do you fill that void? I wish he had of got professional help… easier said than done…

So how does someone who pays such close attention to the practicalities of his suicide not leave behind a will? This makes no damn sense.

We learn a little more about the cousins in this episode, a there are inklings that maybe Tyler’s sense of entitlement might not be a well founded as it first appeared. I’m not sure he’s untrustworthy, maybe just misguided. But the cousins, man Tyler does not like them one bit, even saying that the cousins wanted John’s nipple rings because they were made of gold. And it’s true, Rita and Charlie do seem preoccupied with the gold and other things John left behind. Not to mention we don’t know what has happened to Mary Grace, John’s mother who is now under their guardianship.

We also learn that none of John’s close friends were called before his funeral, there seems to be no logical reason for this, many of them are horologists (people who study the workings of clocks), and many of them suspect that there is some nefarious reason that some one didn’t want them at the funeral. 

There seems to be a foreshadowing of problems with Tyler, and maybe another version of events that shed a less positive light on Tyler and his interest in John’s estate. He has literally towed the buses he claims are his from the property.

Then there’s the gold that Faye, the town clerk, was told about in the freezer in her final phone conversation with John. The concersation in which he drank cyanide over the phone.

The gold that dissapeared, along with some of Mary Grace’s valuables some time between that conversation and when the cousins arrived.

A time when only Mary Grace, the paramedics and the police had access…. oh and Tyler

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Wash out

I do believe Summer may have lulled us into complacency. I hate being hot and sweaty but I had kind of resigned myself that it was now my lot in life to slowly roast to death in the gradual onset of a massive climate change. But that is still not quite how seasons work and the first big storm of Autumn certainly made an impact. Our little turtle house held up pretty well but our neighbour’s canvas tent, a magnificent gorgeous thing in more friendly conditions, was completely washed out to the extent that they made a midnight evacuation to less porous accomadation. 

The claps of thunder brought a sheepish 9 year old to the foot of our bed and he sat with his step dad, watching the radar and checking on the fire started by a nearby lightening strike on the emergency services app.

By the morning we were pretty much the only loiterers left, besides a sad, slumped canvas tent and the less wet patches signifying where the caravans had been.

Then like a cliché in a hastily written blog post the ducks arrived.

Tonight I will attempt to battle with my eternal nemesis; the wet weather campfire.

Wish me luck…

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Thinking about it only makes it worse…

Need the entirety of modern life related back to a Mitchell and Webb sketch? No me neither, but if you did David Mitchell has you covered.
Don’t get me wrong, I am an unashamed sychophant when it comes to his writing…and it takes alot of self referential segues before I start to cringe. But the glass has shattered, and I have reached that point where every reference is so glaringly dissociated from the rest of the text that it may as well have neon lights surrounding it. I’m sure that this is what many people reading his books expect, the little mid rant nod and wink, just to remind them that “he’s on tv, you know”.
And he and the people who have worked with him on Peep Show and That Mitchell and Webb Look have much to be proud of, but I don’t personally need my hand held, I’m aware I’m reading a book… and I’m quite fine with that.
That little quarm aside I thoroughly enjoyed this collection of rants collumns, and it was lovely to read fresh (for me at least) material from David Mitchell. I giggled… a lot.
Read this book… It’s at the Albury Library in the non fiction section… or you could like buy it or something…
P.S. Working without spellcheck again… pardon any errors please and thank you
♤♡♢♧ morgan mushroom ♤♡♢♧

At the community conversation for renewable energy albury wodonga to get some ideas and hear some amazing speakers.


Sorry about  the dodgy photo but a proper write up is on its way

♤♡♢♧ morgan mushroom ♤♡♢♧

7 days until we get the bus

Sorry about the lack of updates I’ve been working on crochet buses for our Kickstarter campaign which goes live next week.

We’ve got a pretty solid idea of how we’ll be setting up our solar power and a pretty excellent quote from Anything Solar in Wodonga, so that has put my mind at rest a bit. Setting all that up is still a long way off but at least we have a plan.11825941_10153288633872875_4187744295963271937_n

Anyone want some couches? It’s Albury Pick up and they have been well loved and use but are still in reasonable condition.

We have 2 lounge chairs in one set and 1 couch and 2 lounge chairs in the other. This is the couch —->

Obviously not the best photo but there will be more later.

camp_cover Brent’s Cool camper van book came in from the Book Depository. It’s full of some awesome pictures, not particularly applicable to what we are doing but great for inspiration.

In case I haven’t mentioned:
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MAMA Opening; Albury Gets to know it’s Mama

Friday the 2nd of October saw the newly revamped Albury art gallery, known as MAMA throw it’s doors open… at least if you were lucky enough to get tour tickets. But for those of us who missed out there were still plenty of sites to be seen.
Kids on giant pink snails, tentacles bursting out of the post office, the performing arts centre slowly filling up with water and a giant plug were just a few installations being enjoyed by the public.
The Wiradjuri dance display had us spellbound and the live music on the Dean St stage was lively and very fitting.
The cow and butcher puppets were very entertaining, if a little menacing and misjudged considering the amount of small children present, running in fear from the nude puppet in an apron with a knife (I kid you not).
The next day, with a few hungover pink MAMA balloons still hovering about in the trees the Flying Fruit Fly Circus showed off their talents and along with the talents of the Albury Brass Band marched along QEII square.
All in all the parts of the launch that we witnessed seemed to be very successful… I can’t wait to see the actual gallery when things calm down a bit.


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