The weekend that was

Can you believe I’ll be starting week 4 of the new job already this week? It’s not so new anymore eh. Days, weeks, go by so fast at this time of the year. Blink and you’ll miss it.

This weekend went by quickly. I had Friday off as I’d picked up my friend from Sydney on the Thursday night.  We went to Hobba for brunch, then to Husband to see the gorgeous Donovan, for chai and coffee. I also caught up with some of the girls from my old work which was lovely.

avo smash, poached egg & mushies!

avo smash, poached egg & mushies!

We then braved Chadstone, which gave me an instant headache. I found out that Chaddy does not have a Big Dubbers, so the trip there was kinda pointless really. Back to the local Southland where we got everything we needed.  We made pizza on the Weber for dinner which was magnificent.

Saturday we had a sleep in then went to The Pantry for lunch. We both had the wagyu burger and can I just say, it would have to be one of the best burgers I have had in a long long time. Also the fries were close to perfect. The only let down was the powder chai, I wish I’d asked before hand as it was revolting. Ah well.

*drools*

*drools*

We decided to walk off lunch and headed down the beach for a stroll. It was breezy but not too chilly. Melbourne certainly let us down in the weather department this weekend.  We soon realised that the beach contained dozens & dozens of dead and dying mutton birds (short tailed shearwaters). It was quite heartbreaking. I actually picked a few up and moved them above the high tide mark, as the incoming tide was threatening to drown them. I was pretty sure they were going to die anyway, but couldn’t face the prospect of them drowning. I did some research when I got home and discovered this information on the WIRES website: “The shearwater’s chances of surviving their first migration can be slim. Short-tailed shearwaters leave Bass Straight in late April-early May, fly north east across the Pacific Ocean and on to the Bering Sea between Russia and Alaska to the Australian winter in the northern hemisphere.They live almost constantly on the wing returning to their islands via the east coast of Australia, to breed in late Spring and Summer. Many are exhausted from the long migration and “crash” onto suburban and city beaches before they reach home. A shearwater can lose almost half its body weight during the long migration so the chances of survival once washed ashore are very slim.” 

A little sad, no.

Last night we got take away food from Remezzo, which included the most divine chocolate mousse cake. Oh, amazing!  I’m pretty sure I am going to have to go to the gym every day for a month to work off this weekends delights!  Not that I mind, it’s great every once in a while.

seriously heaven

seriously heaven

Today we slept in again, made ourselves a healthy lunch and did a little more shopping. I dropped my friend off at the airport in the late afternoon and came home and have done little since!! I’m not ready to go back to work.

EDIT: forgot a couple of things I wanted to add on the end.

Two weeks til the Day of the Doctor – hooray. I haven’t even worked out what I am doing for it – hopeless!!!

This site (NSFW) shows some every day people with every day bodies. I found it fascinating. Hover your mouse over them to reveal their naked selves.

Toodles.

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~ by Fen on November 10, 2013.

9 Responses to “The weekend that was”

  1. Why are there no comments on this?

    River, you half-wit, post a comment.

  2. How coy. You know that’s contrary to the truth.

    • R.H. I don’t think so at all. I get no where near the number of comments others do. My blog just isn’t that fascinating. Truth.

    • In fact, I’m not sure River has ever commented on my blog (apologies if you have, my memory is quite fractured and I am tired).

  3. Nonsense, fascinating blogs get very few comments; look at O’Dyne, Copperwitch.

  4. Well now I’ve said that I realise I only read three blogs: Copperwitch, Little Fen, and that cuckoo woman in Camberwell who wants to be Helen Garner.

    I suppose there’s Manheim motor auctions too. I read that, and actually go there. But that’s me, poor RH. Revhead and poet. We’re all strange.

  5. ‘Sixth in Line.’

    This is a well-off woman in her fifties, with a lawyer-husband and several daughters; she loves them all but they can’t shut her up.
    She’s discovered a passion, a destiny if you don’t mind, seems she still dusts the furniture but her real self is a writer, an ARTIST!
    Good heavens, and she’s spent thousands on it, attending courses in the Blue Mountains and all over the world. Everything is there, on her blog.
    Including her home address, easy to work out.
    There’s a photo of hubby too, looking like a poof. It’s all over for him.
    At its height her blog had crowds of commenters but most have dropped off, taken their praise with them. Poor thing, and she loves a comment from RH but I haven’t made one for a while, not since warning her she’s heading for a breakdown. Meanwhile the daughters are scandalised but hubby sits tight. -And there’s a man for you, keeping his vow, behaving as normal while his missus goes cuckoo.

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