Sorry for the pause, I was up in Shepparton, which still feels like stepping into an alternate reality: the reality not only of the country but of the full-time stay-at-home childcare which is my sister's life at the moment. Two kids keep two (and even three!) adults plenty busy. I don't know how she does it alone most of most days... So my forays into Shepparton are also transitions from the lightness of being of a gentleman of leisure in the city, his commitments on hold far away, to the non-stop needs of a young nuclear family in a society (like the US) uncommitted to public childcare.In other news, a classic story of American perfidy has been overturned. Phar Lap was not poisoned by American mafiosi, the widely held view apparently confirmed by a recent Australian study which found large quantities of arsenic in his hair, but by the cumulative effects of a toxic elixir his trainer used to help him win - doping avant la lettre! (You must know that Phar Lap might as well have been poisoned yesterday, as far as Australian memory goes, a few hours after Gallipoli - another case of betrayal - so it may be a while before the truth of this is acknowledged.)
Today's picture has nothing to do with my sister or Phar Lap. It's Audrey the Skipping Girl, one of Melbourne's favorite neon signs, though her present form and location are shaped by the ironic twists and turns of retro nostalgia. (I've seen her because she's across the street from Ikea.)
Oh, and there's earthshine again today...
