One of the most inconvenient things about our new apartment is that we don’t have washing machine hookups.
It’s not uncommon in America, and I guess adds further credibility to all those tv and film storylines in laundromats. It also adds a big pain in the arse to people like me, who are used to the luxury of having their own washing machine with multiple settings for water level, temperature, length of wash and spin cycle.
Doing the washing is usually one of my favourite chores. I like sorting my clothes and then spending a day doing wash after wash and getting a nice clean wardrobe at the end of it. However without a washing machine in our apartment, it is a little more complicated. We are lucky to have a washer and dryer downstairs in the communal laundry that is shared between the five apartments rather than have to make a trip to a laundromat and wait their for our washing to finish. But still, at a $1.50 per wash and $1.50 per dryer cycle, it is going to add up. Already, in the space of a week we have gone through more than $20 worth of quarters.
Having to use quarters (25 cent coins) only makes it more of a nuisance. Tired of hoarding and saving quarters like a scrooge (when parking meters request them too) I made a trip to the Bank of America to get some quarters which then lived on the windowsill until I used the last of them today.
To add to my little whinge about laundries, I don’t like that there isn’t anywhere to line-dry our clothes and that they really have to go in the dryer. We’ve looked into clothes horses, but here they just aren’t the same size and are few and far between in the stores.
I’m going to keep track of how much we spend on quarters in the laundry this year, because I think it could very well add up to the price of a washing machine.
The day started with mowing the lawns before 8am. Given that it was going to top 40 degrees, it was best to get this chore out of the way.
I am not a fan of mowing lawns, especially if there is lots of area to cover. I have been very lucky and usually my parents end up mowing the lawn for me as they are disgusted by how long I let the weeds get. But as I am leaving their little shack and allowing me to keep it as my storage shelter, I thought it best to get the lawns mowed.
When you do something, like clean or fix something, right before you are about to leave, you get this mixed feeling of “why bother, I’m leaving” and “why didn’t I do this earlier so I could appreciate it”. It’s an interesting combination, and one that no doubt gets you making high promises to attend to these things sooner and not be so lazy.
So here I am, at a quarter to midnight on my last evening in Mildura. I’m surrounded by three large, heavy red bags that are packed and an array of miscellaneous items to go in my carry on bag. I’ve left it all to the last minute of course. I only managed to squeeze in the last few items out of sheer tiredness from a big day of physical, mental and emotional outlays.
My friend cooked a wonderful Mexican feast for 14 of my friends as a send off, which was so lovely. I will save all my cliches about what beautiful, kind and generous people my friends are for another post. I might write that on the plane when I have 14 hours to ponder the loss of such people in my physical proximity.
This post is all mushed up and not flowing very well, but I guess that too reflects the kind of day I’ve had!
In 2007 I was asked to give the Australia Day speech at Red Cliffs. It was such a great honour, so I thought I’d wheel it out again for you today, Australia Day 2011. The sentiment remains the same, and if you like, you can listen to the Seekers sing “I am Australian” while you read it. I’d love to hear your thoughts on what Australia Day means to you, so post a comment.
Welcome – Councillors, Red Cliffs citizens, visitors
My name is Camille. I’m a local girl who grew up here and then did what most of my friends did – I moved away, to Melbourne, to study and to really experience life. To get away from the small town that had shaped me given me my values and take my life into my own hands.
Eight years on after a marketing degree, some work experience and a year of travel, I came back home and it was the best move I’d ever made.
To me, Australia Day is a homage to home and a celebration of community.
We live in a great place. Sometimes it is hard for us to see that and we need to get out and come back in to truly appreciate how unique, vibrant and well serviced our town is.
Here in Red Cliffs we have two fantastic tertiary education facilities on our doorstep, La Trobe University and Sunraysia Institute of TAFE, which means that we can be educated on our home soil.
We have a great climate and natural surroundings, a varied and cultured social life and, well, we have Big Lizzie. The grand dame of Red Cliffs, all the travellers want a photo of her, she’s been the stalwart of our community celebrations, festivals and a great icon for our town. She’s seen it all, including my first kiss as a teenager!
We have so many attachments to home and it’s worth taking some time to think about what home, Red Cliffs, Sunraysia, Victoria … Australia … means to us.
Our community is strong. Just recently we’ve been tested, and we won (the fight against a toxic waste dump being located in the region). Persistence paid off and that shall remain a feather in our cap, a legacy for a brighter future that we will pass on to coming generations. This is what is called social capital. The working together of members of our community, individuals as a group, generating output that will maintain and improve what we have for those that follow.
Active citizenship, that participation, that passion, that drive to achieve, is something we need to cultivate in young people. Already, by Australian Bureau of Statistics research, we as a small community have far greater social capital and volunteering rates than our city counterparts. This is about community.
Community is what I missed most when I was living in Melbourne. I missed the sense of belonging I felt in Red Cliffs. I missed the activity of the community and the things I could get involved in that really meant something to me and the people around me.
In the cities they don’t understand community. The way a town’s fabric is woven from many different people who share a geographical sense of place, an interconnected work and social life and a united front on positive progression for their town.
This is why I came home. To have this feeling of peace inside me. A short holiday to the Philippines last year drilled this home. The absolute best part of my trip was touching down in Mildura, because I knew I was home, where I belonged, where I was valued and where I could make a difference.
Since moving back home I’ve had the most amazing opportunities that would never have come my way in a city. I am a founding member of the Mildura Young Professionals Network, and its current chairperson. This network was set up to attract and retain young people in this region through social networking and professional development. We target the 20 – 40 year old age group and our definition of professional is as simple as being committed to your career and personal growth. Many might look upon us as a ‘noughties’ version of young farmers.
I have also had the opportunity to go to Canberra and attend a workshop on issues facing young people in regional Australia. Through these opportunities I have learnt so much about our region, the needs of young people, leadership and about myself. I found these opportunities by getting involved, reading the paper and talking to people around me.
Opportunities, be they social, work, financial or cultural, are out there everywhere, but they seldom strike the passive. We are all citizens of our community, but the community benefits more from our active participation, and so do we as individuals. Our involvement in activities, from sporting teams to cultural pursuits, to volunteering and membership of clubs or committees, makes right here a better place to live than anywhere else imaginable.
By continually building on and improving the contribution to community, we are leaving a legacy of opportunity, vibrancy, wealth and belonging to the generations to come.
I would like to propose a challenge to you all, and that is to set yourself an Australia Day resolution. Make a goal for your contribution to a positive and vibrant community. Inside each of us is the ability to make a difference and this will happen if we just let it out into the community.
Thank you and enjoy the Australia Day festivities with Big Lizzie!
While eating ice creams on the footpath with Galeria, we spotted a very cool vintage Volkswagen parked in front of the Sandbar.
It was a left hand drive, dove grey Kombi van converted to a ute, it was lowered and had red and white retro hub caps. The windscreen was in two panels, which opened forwards on a hinge, with the window in the back of the cab also opening the same way.
As we walked past it, we admired it like a hipster admires a fixie. It captured our attention so much we didn’t even notice the boys sitting in it.
Last night was bin night. I know this because I nearly hit two wheelie bins that the houseboat owner had placed touching the edge of the bitumen and over the end of my driveway.
I was not happy about this bin placement. There have never been any issues before and I don’t know what part of my driveway they couldn’t see when putting them out or why they didn’t think they would get in my way.
As is the case with most things you find irritating, I shared this gripe with Bro #2 when he came to visit to see if I’d done his washing for him. Actually, on reflection, I think that Bro #2’s comments about expecting me to know that his clothes strewn on the spare room floor were all dirty and that he wanted me to automatically wash them got me wound up in agro mode.
All het up with vehemence, I asked if he’d hit the bins out the front when driving in the driveway. He didn’t really know what I was on about, but I soon filled him in about inappropriate bin placement and disrespect for my driveway in one of those loud, accusing, fishwife type voices.
Later, as Bro #2 drove away, I heard something that sounded like when the garbage truck collects the bins. I peered out the window but didn’t see anything except my brother’s big 4WD ute zooming off down the road.
Heading off to lunch with friends, I had cause for a big ole grin and giggle as I drove down the driveway. Bro #2 had stuck up for big sister and her feelings and nudged the two offending bins with his big bull bar and knocked them over and off my driveway. Seems he brought a little bit of his bulldozer driving job for Dad into town for me.
It’s times like these that I love my little brother like crazy. *heart*
(Please let it be known that these were not the bins of my neighbour who actually lives next door, as their bin is always in their front yard and we are friends)
I don’t want the new Facebook profile. It is only designed to give more space to the ads and therefore justify the $50billion that Facebook has been valued at in preparation for a public float of the company.
This was my intended status update last night after receiving a message on my homepage that said that my profile would soon be automatically switched over.
Message from Zuckerberg
Apparently 99 of my 350 odd friends have already made the transition. Well good on them. I am not a follower, so just because around a third of my friends have switched, doesn’t mean that I have to. Although I guess that power is out of my hands and into those of Zuckerberg’s acolytes.
Facebook is a world onto its own. It has been described as “a virtual monopoly without being declared a monopoly” in one opinion piece. And as the Model T Ford of its time, Facebook prescribes the layout on every person’s profile. There are very few customisable or personalisation elements, unlike with Twitter or here on WordPress. They got rid of most of those in the last refurbish, banishing any external applications to a confusing little breadcrumb trail. The only thing tailored about a Facebook profile is the advertising in the right hand panel. The right hand panel that’s about to get bigger in the new template.
Currently, using my oh-so-accurate measuring system (old school ruler place against the screen) the ad panel is 4cm, the middle wall area is 13.5cm and the left column is 4.7cm wide. On the new profile it is 5.8cm for the ad space, 12.7cm for the wall area and 4.2cm for the profile pic in the left hand column. That’s some substantial change we’re seeing. This year it’s the substance that’s getting skinny while the advertising gets fat. Granted, they try to cover up this giant growth spurt for the ads with a new feature, the Friendship page. A feature that is only going to further enhance the Stalkerbook reputation.
I might sound narky and pre-menstrual about this, but the thing is that if you are a business trying to target me, online ads on Facebook are your best bets. Given that you are logged in alongside all manner of information and detail about you, the Facebook ad database should toss up clickable ads. I’ve clicked on links to RMIT Alumni and in the lead up the Victorian State Election, a Facebook ad prompted me to update my address by making it as easy as pointing my mouse at it. I also see plenty of other ads that interest me, which isn’t the case on other websites.
I don’t mind Facebook having ads, but with the whole “Facebook is valued at $50 billion” we’ve been hearing and reading about and the talk of a public stock float it seems that the social networking platform we underpin our online identities with, is about to do us over just like how it happened in the movie The Social Network.
a little cameo 