I had a girls’ night out with my eldest daughter-flea yesterday. Nothing funny about that is there? Oh, yes there is, according to her work colleagues who thought a mother and daughter going to see Rod Stewart at the Entertainment Centre was hysterically funny. There was much joshing all afternoon about the anticipated zimmer framed audience, much disbelief that she didn’t think her mother would be hoisting her undies onto the stage – “not even a clean pair in her handbag?” was the follow-up.
Not to disappoint them, there were quite a few older and usually larger women there in wheel chairs and on electric scooters; a few (larger) men in wheelchairs and a few walking sticks that we saw. A lot of older women, quite a few older men and a remarkable number of younger women and men. But not a single Zimmer frame in sight.
But the only item we saw go up on the stage was a toy kangaroo for Mr Stewart’s little boy. Did I say little? A 70 year old father with a little child? Yes, there he was, a cute little poppet on the stage briefly to receive the kangaroo. Did I mention he had blond hair and was dressed rather in his father’s style? Black trousers with a voluminous white shirt untucked and appearing as though the collar may have been turned up at one stage; all topped off with a small black vest. He was a cute little poppet, standing there with one hand on his hip, bopping to the music and trying to get one little foot to tap at the same time as Dad’s. The two obviously had a very close and loving relationship, but we couldn’t help wondering how often this happened, and what he’d be like when he hit his teens. Time will tell.
Rod Stewart puts on a great evening of entertainment, but he seemed to be very tired and didn’t have the same energy that he’d had when I saw him six or seven years ago. He has a self deprecating sense of humour and sent himself up with great style. At one point a large photo/poster of a younger Rod Stewart was projected to the back of the stage – Overwritten was a statement that he’d made in an interview at that age – words to the effect of “What? You’d think I’d be still singing “Do you think I’m sexy” when I’m 50? I’d be a parody of myself.” He looked at the poster shrugged his shoulders with a grin and launched into it. What fun. My only disappointment was that his voice has changed – that husky quality seems to have gone.
So now you know – I’m a Rod Stewart fan – but not one of those shouting out “I love you, Rod” across the arena. XD
I’m not a good riser – it’s very hard to leave that haven of snugness, especially when it’s cool and raining outside, but the magic word “Scrabble” has rolled off the radio and I’m wide awake. Adam Spencer – what a man! – he always has such interesting titbits of wisdom to impart, and today it’s Kazique! A word that cries out for an exclamation mark! This is the word and play that we all dream about – the highest scoring word ever – but sadly, I have forgotten the score (I wasn’t really WIDE awake) but I think it was around 360 something (I can’t find it on google or the ABC’s site) and used triple word scores and the Bingo 50 – although maybe it had to be Kaziques to score that high. I’ll check it out and let you know 🙂
…. and it was also an outing with Grandpa Flea’s Probus club. At first it seemed that we would all be on the outing (the Scrabble Group. that is) but one had to invigilate (what a good word!) for the HSC and another, baby sit. So three of us and another 45 people boarded the Hawkesbury River postman’s boat for a day puttering up the river, calling in to all the little settlements with mail and what seemed like an unending supply of crates of bread! We were so lucky with the weather – a beautiful sunny day with a cooling breeze up on the roof of the boat.
I love isolated places and once dreamt of living in one, on the water of course. These days I still love them, but the dream has gone. I like being 5 minutes from the train! But then, looking at that photo – wouldn’t it be heaven?
Dangar Island, a short trip across from Hawkesbury River station, has no cars – the residents leave their wheelbarrows at the dock to wheel their heavy goods home – hard work if you ask me, as there is a rather large hill as you leave the waterfront! Click on the photo above and you can see the wheelbarrows on the left near the sign. And here is a local – a very pregnant local, I’m told, wheeling her goodies home.
One mystery was solved for me on this trip – I have always been conscious of a place called “Little Wobby Beach” but for some reason thought it was an ocean beach in the Royal National Park to the south of Sydney, but here it was – on the Hawkesbury:But where is the beach, I here you ask? Why, right here, nicely framed by Grandpa Flea and friend – and it really IS little!And here are some of the many loaves of bread being unloaded to go to the National Fitness Camp at …. Little Wobby Beach.All in all, a great day – good company, fresh and tasty lunch, sunshine and sparkling water. The only thing that could have improved it would have been a game of Scrabble!
According to DA, I run a disorderly house! (Friday Quick Crossord: 19 across)