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Gardens of the Galaxy

Gardens / By

When you think about, plants are from outer space. So are we, I guess, but let’s just focus on plants for a minute. Looking at them from this perspective really explains a lot. From their creeping tendrils to their overwhelming green-ness, plants bear an uncanny resemblance to the ‘little green men’ of our intergalactic imaginings. 

Seriously, think about it. Their way of life is completely different to ours, and yet identifiable to us as a way of life. We have a sense of ancient kinship with plants, and yet there’s a wide gulf between where we’ve each ended up. Take your garden variety bay tree. Potted plant specimens aren’t hard to come by; you can even buy them online. They’re low maintenance, and we can use their leaves as a culinary herb, and they have a generally friendly quality about them. And yet, they’re largely inscrutable to we humans.

If a plant as down-to-earth as a bay tree has a strange vibe about it, then what of plants that are perceived as wilder, weirder and more dangerous? Think of carnivorous jungle plants, poisonous datura and belladonna, and those mystery species that dwell under the sea, of all places. They must be more along the lines of what I’m talking about, right? Well, not necessarily. A key part of my proposition is that all plants are equally alien. 

Really, though, you have to see what I’m talking about to believe it. If you’re not doing it already, go and get started on some gardening post haste. You don’t have to go for anything out of the ordinary. In my view, the wackiness encompasses plants in general, from obscure Arctic mosses to the garden-friendly camellia tree. Buy online, go to a nursery or beg the elderly lady down your street for cuttings – it doesn’t matter. Just get some plant babies in your life and find out for yourself how strange they are. 

If you take the time to ask them and listen for the answers, they might even disclose the secrets of the galaxy. Stranger things have happened.

The Fleet Departs

Boating / By

I, for one, feel safer around the docks now. The Fleet had been hanging around the Melbourne bay for weeks, which I guess they can do, legally, but it made everyone nervous. They do not like us, apparently because we live on the land and that makes us inferior.

When I heard that some of them had been running around Melbourne by night burning cars I wasn’t too surprised, but now they’ve been apprehended, we can all breathe a sigh of relief. At least someone cares about serious vandalism, even if I’m not totally convinced that some girl in a cloak took down the whole group single-handed. Might be a bit of exaggeration there.

Now at least we can get back to debating the best place to buy stainless steel snapper racks without having to look over our shoulders.

You know, you’d think those Fleet people would at least appreciate the dock workers. The golden age of sailing may be long over, but we’re the ones doing all the marine fabrication, making sure people do still sail and go fishing and generally use boats. But nope – a few worker’s cars down at the docks were set on fire as well. Blatantly disrespectful, much? I guess they see us as all the same. Just a bunch of Terra Firma losers.

Well, they’re gone now. Turns out they were in breach of an agreement with the coastguard and that doesn’t surprise me either. They left pretty quickly after that, or maybe it was the butt-kicking they got from the vigilante group (and yes, there had to be a group, because one person doesn’t beat seven guys).

Good riddance. Having them floating around the ocean is just like a bunch of hooligans smoking outside a shopping centre, making it so that no one wants to go inside. Ironically, despite being all about the ocean, they were keeping people away from it. Turns out their mission wasn’t so ‘pure’ after all. Hope none of them come back expecting us to fit snapper racks or bait boards or whatever else.

They can go back to creepily floating near Sydney, or preferably much further out. Like, in the middle of the pacific.

-Linus

Hospitals = Health?

Uncategorized / By

Sometimes I think hospitals seem like the worst possible place to receive healthcare services. There, I said it. To be clear, I don’t have too many ideas on how to make them better environments for healing, short of raising taxes. But that doesn’t mean I can’t offer a critique, misguided thought it may potentially be. I’ve just been thinking about it a lot since visiting a friend recovering from an operation last week.

While it’s fantastic that Australia has a public health system and that my mate could get his operation with a minimum of fuss, I can’t help but think that his recovery might progress better if he wasn’t surrounded by markers of illness and injury. From blue-clothed doctors to tubes of mystery fluids to even more mysterious meds, everything in the environment cues thoughts of sickness. Speaking of which, don’t even get me started on the so-called food. You’d be better off living on instant ramen and peanut butter.

Wanting to find out whether this is something that people are researching from a psychological perspective, I listened to a podcast on the topic. Among other things, they were talking about technological developments in medical devices that are enabling certain treatments to be administered outside of hospitals. Obviously, this doesn’t apply to all types of treatments, or even very many of them, but it’s still an interesting concept.

The podcasters kept referring back to these things called portable hyperbaric chambers. Melbourne, apparently, is on the list of places where you can have them shipped, so it was topical for their listeners. I’m not 100% sure what these chambers are, but they’ve got something to do with hyperbaric treatments, which involve exposure to air with a higher concentration of oxygen than normal. Point is, with these portable units, it’s possible for people to have the treatment administered in the comfort of their home.

I’m not really sure what I’m getting at, except that I think home-based treatment options are an area ripe for investigation.

Kitchen Metaphors

Kitchens / By

Samantha really doesn’t ever shut up about home decorating. When Amanda said that, I sort of dismissed it, but it’s actually true. I always thought she had more interest in the topic than your average Joe, but I hadn’t clocked the full extent of it. It’s virtually all she talks about, and she does so with a feverish excitement that makes me feel at once on edge and motivate to organise an overhaul of my home’s interiors.

It really sunk in today when we were out having a ‘window shopping and natter’ session at the mall. I was trying to engage a deep conversation about relationships, as I felt I really needed that, but she kept somehow bringing it back to new-season kitchen cabinetry. Forest green, apparently, is bang on trend, with navy on its heels.

Now, I’m as happy to hear about on-trend home furnishings as the next person, but I don’t see how any of this connects to my relationship crisis. I feel like Samantha wasn’t even listening. She did try to spin some metaphor about kitchen interior design being comparable to processes of individual development in long-term partnering, but it was a bit of a token effort if you ask me.

So there I was, feeling a touch hurt by my friend’s failure to read between the lines of my conversation-making, when she launched into a brutal analysis of my kitchen. She totally eviscerated it, actually. She said the pantry design was inefficient, the sink and tapware outdated, and the floor space begging for a kitchen island to be installed. I could address all this, she claimed, if I’d only stop wallowing in my fear of renovations for long enough to realise the potential of the space.

Thinking over this now, I’m starting to wonder if it’s all an elaborate extended metaphor. Maybe she was imparting some self-help gold the whole time, heavily veiled in references to kitchen refacing.

The Prime Victory

Cars / By

OH. MY. VROOM-NESS.

I feel like we’ve been here before, but Week of Our Lives seems to have so many episodes centered around cars that I find it hard to keep up with all of them. There are literally thousands of episodes now, so I can’t be expected to remember all those summaries! That’s what the archive section of the forums is all about, although be careful. It’s quite the rabbit hole if you let yourself fall in too deep.

So, cars. This time they really did something quite different by having a bottle episode set at a car fair. Not a convincing car fair, by any means. I think all the people who were supposed to be Ringwood auto mechanics in the background might have been mannequins being moved by strings, and all the cars were just cardboard cutouts according to the girls on the forums. Didn’t actually notice myself, but why would you be looking at that stuff when this was the day when Annaliese finally decided to propose…to herself!

Yes, Annaliese came to the car fair because her split personality is super into roadworthy checks and tyre replacement. However, while there, she and her split personality had a big falling out over whether a VicRoads check is better than one you’d find in South Australia. It was their biggest ever fight, and as a result, Annaliese pulled out the ring she was going to use to propose and used it on…herself. That is, she proposed to her real self, her prime personality, in an act of self-care and self-affirmation so very great that her split personality vanished entirely.

Wow. In terms of accurately representing mental health on-screen, I’m thinking this one won’t be counted as a win. But if you’re looking for quality vehicle inspections near Ringwood, it was a rousing endorsement of their services, because Annaliese Prime was in favour of Victorian RWCs and she pretty handily won that argument.

She won so hard that the opposing side ceased existing entirely. And now we’re awaiting the sounds of wedding bells!

-Leticia

Sweet Truck

aluminium accessories / By

I’m kind of jealous of Tony’s sweet work vehicle. I don’t know what the go is with his employers, but they must be doing pretty well for a small construction company, because they’ve given Tony a brand new dual-cab ute with a custom half canopy to drive. Evidently, they don’t know about his love of cross-country driving marathons and history of taking other people’s cars down unlikely gravel tracks that they aren’t made to drive on.

I guess they’ll find out soon enough. He’s taking the week off to drive across Tassie, and he’s bringing the work ute down with him on the boat. More to the point, I’m pretty sure his boss thinks he’s flying to Auckland to visit his ailing mum. This is the kind of fib Tony likes to use to put someone off the scent of his improper vehicle usage.

In this case, for once, the vehicle might actually stand up to the treatment Tony has in store for it. Not only is it a 4×4, it’s also got one of the strongest-looking commercial ute canopies Melbourne tradespeople are likely to come across. It looks like it had a new set of tyres, too. The main thing Tony should be worrying about is scratching up the underside or putting a big old dent in the body – all too real possibilities, given his history of careless off-road adventures.

Back to the plus side. This thing has a really nicely designed aluminium ute toolbox. Melbourne, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Even if you’re not a tradie, you can still appreciate a solid bit of custom design, executed with finesse… right? Maybe you need to see it to get what I’m on about here. Tony’s filling it up with camping supplies, which shouldn’t be a problem – it looks solid as all get out.

 

I asked Tony if I could come with, seeing as he’s got all this space in the back seat and all, but he said no. Maybe he doesn’t want any eyewitnesses of him not being in Auckland.

The Last Straw

Cars / By

Well, there’s Sandrine on leave again. We should’ve seen this coming, because she was actually doing a lot of the same things as last time. The only difference is that she was burning herself out by acting nice, and actually being helpful and productive, so it’s a shame that she worked so hard. She got a bit erratic in the last few days, and the smile really did look like it’d been programmed onto her face. It was clearly the stress of trying to be a different, much nicer person.

I think the last straw was Damien, pushing things too far as per usual. He has this idea that he HAS to compile a list of car servicing centres Bendigo residents can trust. I don’t know, I think he grew up mechanic parents, so now he doesn’t trust anyone except the place where he used to get his car servicing done before he moved to Melbourne. Also, he’s a notorious slacker.

Sandrine is running herself ragged trying to be nice to everyone, and there’s Damien trying to stretch things by saying that he’ll be in late, due to having to go all the way to Bendigo to assess the car air conditioning regas options on offer there.

Like, is that a thing, or is he just skiving off? I looked it up, and apparently it’s a thing, but it doesn’t need to be done that often and we’re just moving into winter, so Damien can’t possibly be implying that he needs it done right away. The weather just cooled!

Anyway, Damien just said that to Sandrine like she’d be totally okay with it, all casual. She considered it for a very long time, with that frozen smile, before turning on her heel and walking out the door like a robot. I hope Damien had fun with his Bendigo auto mechanic, because he might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to our office. Maybe Sandrine just needs a bit of rest? Let’s hope.

-Drew

Savvy Granny

Healthcare / By

My grandma is pretty tech savvy for an 87 year-old. Not only does she own a full suite of interconnected devices, she also knows how to use them. She even managed to troubleshoot an issue with my tablet that had me stumped a few months back, and she’s forever recommending new podcasts. She loves them because they keep her in touch with current affairs and happenings that aren’t always adequately covered in the traditional news.

The latest show she’s been listening to is about emerging innovations in the health sector. Not surprisingly for someone of her age, she has a mounting list of assorted complaints that all require management, and she’s keen to be ahead of the curve. “You know how GPs are,” she’s always saying. “Lovely people, but they don’t know everything.” Well, of course they don’t know everything. I think I get what she means though. It probably becomes pretty apparent once you’re more than half a decade senior to your doctor.

Anyway, the latest episode of this show was an interview with an expert on hyperbaric medicine. Melbourne, the interviewer states in the introduction, is starting to see more of this particular type of therapy, which has been used to treat conditions ranging from decompression sickness to gangrene. Basically, it’s used where there’s an insufficient supply of oxygen to an area of the body’s tissues.

Now, one of my grandma’s health complaints is type 2 diabetes, and she’s been advised that she could be at risk of developing a foot ulcer – the prospect of which, understandably, deeply freaks her out. Obviously, managing her diabetes is the key thing to do, but she was interested to hear that there are treatments of this nature available should the necessity arise.

Having listened to the interview, I still don’t completely understand what the therapy actually entails, but it something to do spending time a chamber that has an ambient air pressure three times higher than the norm. I’m sure grandma could tell you the ins and outs – she kind of puts me to shame on these things.

The Bandit Returns

Property / By

I remember the good old days, when I wrestled in the Melbourne pro-league under the stage name ‘Bandito Carlito’. The announcers always had a good time saying my name, and so did the fans. Ahh, they’d chant my name all the time, but especially when I climbed up onto the cage bars to perform my signature move: the bandito desperado very-hurto elbow, oh! That was where I jumped and used my elbow to…oh, it doesn’t matter.

No one chants for me any more. See, people in showbiz who have strenuous jobs are forced into normal life so soon, and then what? You just become a successful banker like me, seeking out property advocates to help you buy your third home. Occasionally someone might comment that you’re unusually buff for a banker, but no one would ever guess that I used to dress in brightly-coloured tights and perform camel clutches on jobbers. No, they just see the powerful tycoon with a property investment portfolio large enough to buy an island off Indonesia. The days have certainly gone down for Bandito Carlito. Unless the deal for that island actually goes through and I become Baron Carlito Bandito, in which case I can very much start that island-based wrestling league I’ve always dreamed of having, but the property conveyancing companies in Melbourne have told me that they only deal with city-based property and don’t really have experience in building gigantic wrestling areas on islands that are technically not part of any sovereign nation. Okay, that’s fair enough. I’ll find a specialist.

Maybe that’s a dream for a few years down the line, when I own so much property in Melbourne that the people who sell private islands will have to acknowledge my economic mastery. Also, I can still get recommendations from buyers advocates, since they’re often the ones who know the market and everything about it.

They’re the property experts, I am the expert in leaping from the top ring in a stunning display of elbow-dropping majesty. We all have things we’re good at, clearly.

-Carl

The Western Lands?

Electrical / By

The West isn’t quite as nasty as I was told, but I still vastly prefer the eastern suburbs. We just do things RIGHT here, you know? here, the dumpling restaurants are plenty, the postage services are swift, and the shopping centres flow like rain. From my scant research, they have practically no shopping centres, I couldn’t find a single real dumpling restaurant, and the jury is out on the postage but I imagine it’s just a bit slower because the vans have to drive on all those silly potholes which probably exist.

That said, I’d heard power outages were common, and I haven’t noticed any during my stay thus far. I have no doubt that an electrician in the eastern suburbs is much better than their counterparts of course: better-equipped, faster in response time, possessing greater training, and only hiring people who pass a basic handsomeness/beauty test, so that their visages do not offend the clientele. We have more beautiful people in the east…that much is certainly true.

But the electricity, here in the western suburbs? It’s fine. I mean…I haven’t been here long enough to definitively say that it’s equal, and I seriously doubt that it’s better, but this isn’t quite the haven of degeneracy I was led to believe. Why, a few decent dumpling shops, maybe a shopping centre called ‘Wester-Land’, and the place could be perfectly adequate, even if the commercial electricians may have to be shipped in from the east to make it work. It’s not that I don’t think that people here could be electricians, but…well, it’s going to take them a while to catch up to OUR ways.

But don’t we in the east, with all our resources and blessings, have a responsibility to help our neighbours? Especially when they are making such a valiant effort to be liveable. They’re certainly not as far from habitable as I thought.

-Reginald