The purple haze has begun

Jacarandas are filling the blue of the sky all along my way to work. I took these photographs about 5:30 this afternoon as I sauntered home, much to the delight of a snuffling doberman.

On the move

This photo was taken in November 2006 six months after having moved into the street. I move out next Wednesday.

It is not easy finding an alternative given these criteria:

must have dirt
must have light
must have sun
must be old
must have an open plan living area
must be allowed to have cats
must not be too expensive.

But I found a one-bedroom cottage out the back of a two storey terrace in Glebe, about 12 minutes walk from my work and 200m from a great coffee shop. I met the owner today and got a big tick. I like the RE agent whom I will liaise with. More photos later.

Winter winds doth blow

As I have mentioned before, I live in a narrow one-way street, about 100m in length with a very large verge down one side. The dominant natural feature is two very large trees, oaks I think but I would be guessing.

This week my street looks like this. I thought it worth capturing as today the winter winds blow up from the south and I expect all these leaves to have gone within another week: even those still on the trees.

Beauty is sodden and cold

Crepe Myrtles had just been planted along the footpath when I moved in three years ago. This is their first brilliant flash of leaf colour.

I love wet, foggy winter mornings - even if I have to trudge off to work!

Nightfall

from Song in Autumn It is different at evening: damp rises not crisp or definite like frost but seeping into the blood and brain - the end of enterprises. Robert D. Fitzgerald ... from Southmost Twelve (1953 - 1962)

Don't spare the horses

Nearly home: opposite the first plot of purple ground cover; just beyond the orange Chinese lantern bush. I walk to and from work and frequenly it takes 15 minutes to walk this 100 metre stretch: the neighbours are a lovely, friendly bunch and I am a bit of a have-a-chat.

To set the scene

In 2006, I sold my apartment in Bondi and moved to a one-bedroom single fronted working man's terrace in Waterloo. I invested the ungarnisheed amount into my superannuation fund; remember, this is 12 months before Costello gave the massive lurks to such an action. Why?

Everyone kept on saying that owning a house was an emotional not an intellectual decision: that investing in the markets was a more reasonable way of dealing with one's funds. But what if you have to leave your rented premises? What if it is sold from beneath you and you are tossed out onto the street? Yep ... that is a problem. But I also get to move when I am unhappy. I can live anywhere I choose with just two weeks notice.

I was not to know about the massive hike in rents; nor the massive slide in superannuation fund valuations. I have dealt with the former by renting a tumble-down terrace for $280 per week, an amount which has not changed since May 2006. However, I always pay on time, and the place has never looked so good. Indeed, Robert did not think it COULD look this good. He says it puts his place to shame. Goodo ... And the slide in superannuation values I have sort of coped with by investing in cash just before the GFC in September.