Faulty weather prediction
Jul. 24th, 2009 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyYesterday my mother and I and a couple of friends got up at an ungodly hour and went to Melbourne. I had planned to take my camera to make this a walking tour entry, complete with photos, but the weather man told me that it would rain and my bag would take either a camera or a fold-out umbrella but not both. I took the umbrella and, of course, it didn't rain at all... so, yes, well done on that sterling job of weather prediction, Mr Weather Man.
Anyway, we caught the train, which had an unusually large number of female passengers, to Melbourne, then we - and many of the other passengers - trooped en masse to the Craft Fair, where we all split up. I spent the morning wandering around with no particular aim: I looked at displays of award-winning quilts and felted hats and beaded things, I sat in on a workshop by a photographer talking about using colour, and I bought a pattern to knit a camel and pattern to make a bag that will fit both a camera and an umbrella. (I say 'make a bag' but what I mean is 'give to my mother to make a bag', because I can't use a sewing machine. I passed my Sewing Machine Licence in Year 7 Textiles, but that was just piercing holes in a piece of paper. Actually threading the machine and fiddling about with bobbins remains a problem.)
Then I met my mother for lunch and the two of us strolled along the river to the National Gallery of Victoria to spend the afternoon at the big Dalí exhibition, which was great, even if they neglected to frame a Chupa Chup wrapper. We played 'what if you won the lucky door prize and got to take home a piece of your choice' (art galleries should do this). My mother picked the lobster telephone (an old-fashioned dial phone with a lobster for a handset). I liked this photo, but I think I would pick a lovely little seascape he did as a teenager, all dark blues and turquoise with luminous white highlights.
After that we meandered back to the station, stopping at Laurent Patisserie for a cakey thing to eat on the way home and at a shoe shop so my mother could get a pair of those Masai shoes for work. I tried them on in the train on the way home (you've got to fill that three-hour trip somehow) and they're very comfortable, even if it does feel odd at first, rocking back and forth. And then I came home and remembered to change my alarm back to its normal time, because I didn't want to be woken at four-fifteen two mornings in a row.
Anyway, we caught the train, which had an unusually large number of female passengers, to Melbourne, then we - and many of the other passengers - trooped en masse to the Craft Fair, where we all split up. I spent the morning wandering around with no particular aim: I looked at displays of award-winning quilts and felted hats and beaded things, I sat in on a workshop by a photographer talking about using colour, and I bought a pattern to knit a camel and pattern to make a bag that will fit both a camera and an umbrella. (I say 'make a bag' but what I mean is 'give to my mother to make a bag', because I can't use a sewing machine. I passed my Sewing Machine Licence in Year 7 Textiles, but that was just piercing holes in a piece of paper. Actually threading the machine and fiddling about with bobbins remains a problem.)
Then I met my mother for lunch and the two of us strolled along the river to the National Gallery of Victoria to spend the afternoon at the big Dalí exhibition, which was great, even if they neglected to frame a Chupa Chup wrapper. We played 'what if you won the lucky door prize and got to take home a piece of your choice' (art galleries should do this). My mother picked the lobster telephone (an old-fashioned dial phone with a lobster for a handset). I liked this photo, but I think I would pick a lovely little seascape he did as a teenager, all dark blues and turquoise with luminous white highlights.
After that we meandered back to the station, stopping at Laurent Patisserie for a cakey thing to eat on the way home and at a shoe shop so my mother could get a pair of those Masai shoes for work. I tried them on in the train on the way home (you've got to fill that three-hour trip somehow) and they're very comfortable, even if it does feel odd at first, rocking back and forth. And then I came home and remembered to change my alarm back to its normal time, because I didn't want to be woken at four-fifteen two mornings in a row.