Beestung

Beestung lips are so hot right now that I went back to the dermatologist today to get injected, sliced and stitched. Never let it be said that I don’t suffer for beauty.

Yup, the Thing grew back. I was decidedly unimpressed. The dermatologist felt a bit guilty, I think. She took extra special care this time. Bigger slice, neater stitches. Fingers crossed. I need my whistle back!

These lads were less keen for the beestung look:

We walked through Edinbugh Gardens on the weekend and spotted a bunch o’ boys who had stopped their soccer game to stare at bikes. Can you guess why, reader?

Because a swarm of bees had landed on one of them. See the handlebars thick and furry with beeeeeeees?!

On the plus side, that bike was in no risk of being stolen.

Me and he

Me: Are you enjoying the wisteria?

He: It blooms in wisterious ways.

Feel like dancing

I’m doing this. Are you doing this? You should be doing this. You don’t even have to be able to whistle.

Library day

I’m writing an article. Prompted by gaps in knowledge that must be filled to write said article, I pootled into town today to the State Library with the Curmudgeon.

It might just be the City of Melbourne’s marketing campaigns, but any time I go to the SLV I fall in love with Melbourne a little harder. That building – that resource – is just extraordinary. And packed with people of a Sunday. I circled the floor looking for a seat – a security guard took pity on me and recommended the magazine room at the back – where I found one little armchair. Otherwise desks were occupied and piled high. This is a good thing.

I get greedy in the library. I head to a section that interests me and I find so many books I want to read. I grab armfulls (armsfull?) of volumes and suck up facts and knowledge and stories and references. Delicious.

SLV reliably has some ripper exhibitions. The current one, As modern as tomorrow, has lovely, lovely modernist photos. There’s one from a photography brochure where lass clearly has made a lascivious suggestion to the young man who is kindly showing her the secrets of the darkroom. I think she understands quite a bit about chemistry already.

Dacre Stubbs, Printing equipment, Kodak Australasia, c 1951, gift of Martin Stubbs, 2005

Image source