A Quick Story

The sun was setting as two black horses pulled a black carriage with gold trimming along the well worn road. The driver could see the city in the distance. He sat back with a smile and allowed himself to relax a little. The master's daughter was almost home. Eager to get home himself, the driver spurred the horses on even faster with a shout.
He didn't see what spooked the horses. All of a sudden they reared back kicking their front legs and screaming. The sound was horrendous. The driver just had time to hope that he'd never hear that sound again before he was thrown from his seat. He landed heavily beside the road and never heard another sound again.
The horses veered off the road, dragging the carriage after them. Off the well used road, the carriage bounced crazily until it finally snapped free of the horses, bouncing sideways until it finally came to rest upside down.
Some minutes later one of the carriage doors was forced open and a dishevelled young woman, looking much the worse for wear after her misadventure in the carriage, toppled out. She landed face down in the soft dirt. She then shakily pushed herself up so that she was kneeling on her knees and dazedly looked around. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and almost fainted when she saw that there was blood on her gloved hand. She leant back against the carriage to try and steady herself.
"Driver!"
She waited for him to respond. He didn't.
"Driver!" She called out louder this time, starting to feel mildly annoyed that the driver hadn't yet answered her call. The fact that he could be dead hadn't even crossed her mind. Feeling pretty close to hysterics, she almost screamed for the driver, threatening this time that unless he answered her immediately he would lose his job.
Still no answer. But then,
"May I be of assistance, miss?" It wasn't the driver asking.
She looked up at the voice and saw a young, nicely dressed man smiling encouragingly and offering her his hand. Even in the dim light she could see that his eyes were almost an orange colour.
She accepted his offered hand and let him help her to her feet.
"I heard your shouts from the road and thought I'd better come and help." He explained, still smiling easily.
The young woman found his smile reassuring somehow. "Thank you. I'm sure my father will be pleased to hear about your help to me."
He just smiled before assisting her back to the road. Once there her took her arm and began leading her away from the city.
"Where are you taking me?" She demanded, alarmed. "The city is that way." She indicated the opposite direction they were going with her free hand.
"It'll take us hours to walk there. It'll be much faster if we go this way: there's a pub a mile back. We can send word to your father and wait for him there."
"I don't remember see a pub." She frowned, although allowing the stranger to lead her once again.
"Maybe you weren't looking for it." The young man smiled.
The young woman wasn't sure how long they walked for. But they walked long enough for her feet to start hurting in her shoes. She was about to start complaining about it when a dingy looking tavern loomed up through the gloom. The lights from inside glowed dimly through the windows.
Again the young woman felt a sense of apprehension and paused.
"Relax, it's a reputable place." The young man smiled again, correctly guessing why she had slowed down.
Although his smile once again reassured her, the young woman carefully looked him up and down. His dark hair was slicked back and carefully parted to one side. He was in a dark coloured silk shirt, which was tucked into charcoal grey trousers and was in carefully polished black boots that went up to just below his knees. She looked back up into his orange eyes. They matched his smile and twinkled warmly at her, encouraging her to trust him. She followed him into the tavern which she noticed was called The Jolly Hunter.
The inside was far more welcoming than the exterior of the tavern indicated; a large heart fire burned warmly in one corner and on all of the polished tables burned at least three large red candles. Many of the tables were taken by groups of people merrily talking as they drank and ate.
"The table by the fire is free." The young man nodded towards the fire place. "What's your father's name so that I know who to address the telegram too."
She told him her father's name before going to sit and wait for him at the table he had indicated. She nervously sat on the edge of her chair and watched the young man talking to the man behind the counter. After a few minutes, the young man joined her at the table carrying two glasses of red wine.
"While we wait for your father." He smiled, placing the glass down in front of her. She thanked him and politely took a sip from the glass. She didn't really want to drink with a stranger. No matter how nice she found him.
The young man fixed his eyes on her as he took a sip from his own glass. He then started asking her questions about her recent trip and her life. She found herself easily answering his questions. She didn't ask him any. She was surprised when she went to take a sip of wine and discovered that the glass was empty. She didn't remember drinking anything while she talked. The young man laughed when she expressed her surprise at this to him. He waved at the bartender who promptly brought over two more glasses to their table.
This time the young man regaled her with stories from far off lands. His eyes still never leaving hers, and she leant closer in to better hear his stories. A bell tinkled as the tavern door opened. She hadn't heard it when they had entered. The young man looked away from her towards the door.
"It looks like we part company now."
She followed his gaze and recognised her father's old cook, although she didn't know his name.
"Thank you for rescuing me and providing the most wonderful company while I waited for my father, Mister ..." She faltered, realising for the first time that she didn't know his name.
"I go by many names. But a lot of people know me as Adrian." He smiled, rising and helping her to her feet. He led her towards the open door that the chef was holding open for them.
The air outside was chillier than expected and the young woman shivered after being in such a warm building. Adrian guided her to the horse and buggy that stood waiting nearby while the chef clambered up into the drivers seat.
Adrian opened the door for her and allowed to place one foot on the step before pulling her closer to him than was proper. She found she didn't mind this. Her ran a finger down her cheek and under her chin, lifting her face so that she was looking into his smiling orange eyes.
"I rescued you and know everything about you except one thing," he said so softly that she could barely hear him. "What is your name?"
She told him.
As soon as he was certain that she was safely seated and comfortable, Adrian bid her good night and closed the door. She could hear him and the chef exchange a few words before the chef spurred the horse into action, and the buggy slowly rocked away from the tavern.
She looked out the side window, Adrian was standing with his hands behind his back. He smiled and waved goodbye just as she lost him from sight.

Shopping etiquette

So after braving the post Boxing Day sales crowds today I couldn't help but noticing that some (or a lot of) people clearly need to be reminded about some pretty basic shopping centre etiquette (which is even more important with large crowds).

For some reason many people seem to think that stopping in shop doors is perfectly acceptable. It IS NOT.

People also seem to think that stopping in the middle of the walk way and blocking the flow of traffic is also perfectly acceptable. It IS NOT.

A lot of people seem to think that just walking around in a daze and constantly getting in everyone's way all the time is also acceptable. Again, it IS NOT.

Another thing that people seem to think is ok is letting their brood of kids run feral and trip up everyone. It's not.

If people do any of the above they are fair game to an elbow in the ribs (it's the only way to let them know they're in the way) and an insincere apology (only if you're feeling generous though) that points out that the elbow could've been avoided if they hasn't been blocking the flow of traffic. Of course, elbowing the kids isn't acceptable (it's not their fault their parents let them run around like feral little animals), but if they're particularly bad don't try to dodge them if they're about to run into you. Let them run into you and bounce back. That usually means they'll avoid you from then on. Although that still doesn't help with their parents. My favourite way to let parents know their kids are being feral is to carry on just like their kids (minus the running everywhere). Do it loud enough with whoever you're shopping with and the kids are either told to behave or are quickly moved away (plus the whole "stop poking me!" "Stop walking into my finger!" Etc thing is fun).

But of course, if everyone simply remembered that stopping the flow of traffic is selfish and inconsiderate and actually controlled their kids better then the whole sales shopping experience would be so much more pleasant ... plus there'd be a lot less elbowing people and embarrassing parents with misbehaving kids.

Mortein Naturgard

Sounds like a pretty cool product, right? Killing all of those disgusting bugs that we hate so much and without using all of those nasty chemicals that we also hate so much.

But it did get me to wondering how Mortein managed to create such a magical product using mostly nature. I mean, if they managed to can such an efficient and natural bug killer in a compressed gas form, why are there still so many bugs around annoying us and dirtying up our nice clean homes?

But then I noticed this:

Now, I don't know what plant based actives are. And after trying a few google searches, I can only assume that these plant based actives is in fact a typo, and what they really mean is "No plant based activities. Although, I don't really know what plant based activities has to do with killing those pesky insects or how Mortein would manage to can that in compressed gas form (which is probably where there's no plant based actives/activities.

Still, I thought that maybe the Mortein website could help me with this ... and it did help; Apparently the little disclaimer about the "No plant based actives" is accurate.

There's only one plant based active: pyrethrins, which comes from the pyrethrum flowers (thank you, google).

But apparently it's not all that, because right next to this statement is a ** disclaiming that there's also synthetic ingredients as well.

So apparently, there's no magical, natural ingredient/s that can just kill those annoying insects without the aid of those nasty synthetic ingredients. But then, anyone who's constantly complaining about insects would probably be aware of this, and wouldn't be foolish enough to buy this product.

After all, if there was there'd be no need to buy it.





http://www.mortein.com.au/product_nat_auto_ind_insect.php

The Old Timer (Another Train Observation)

The old man slowly ambled into the lobby of the train station. Like everyone else, he immediately noticed the large group, consisting of mostly women, all wearing red and shook his head. Just like everyone else he knew their cause, knew that it was a worthy one.

But he still didn't support them.

He didn't see the point of them causing so much disruption to everyone else. He knew that they weren't going to get their payrise.

He had seen this before. Seen it many times. Had even been involved in a few protests. He knew how it would end:

If they were lucky the teacher's protest would result in nothing except extensive media coverage. Of course, this wouldn't be enough and more strikes would
follow.

He remembered his own days when he had protested for a payrise. Just like the teachers, he and his colleagues had been determined to keep striking until they were offered a decent payrise. They striked frequently for about 12 months before the company became completely fed up and fired everyone, not just the people striking.

This naturally angered everyone, and all of the former employees took to the streets to protest against their sacking.

They should've just left it to a few angry words over a couple of rounds of beer the night before:

The police were waiting for them the next day. They clashed violently with the police and many of them were arrested and charged with disrupting the peace and resisting arrest as well as many others charges.

The old man, then a young man, had been charged as one of the ringleaders. He had been sent to prison.

When he was released many years later he had learnt his lesson: it wasn't worth protesting for better pay and working conditions, no matter how bad they are.

Once released, he struggled to find employment again. Because of his past, potential employers saw his as a possible trouble maker not worth employing. Even the government was reluctant to pay him welfare, believing that his current situation was self inflicted.

Eventually, though, he was able to find part time work doing clerical duties a couple of days a week. Although he knew he was being severly underpaid he didn't dare to complain about. Being underpaid was still better than not being paid.

His lesson had been learnt.

Now he looked on as the striking teacher excitedly prepared for their protest. He knew what was in store for them and couldn't believe that they couldn't see it for themselves.

"You're wasting your bloody time. And everybody else's." He growled at a nearby teacher with so vividly red that she had obviously died it for the occasion.

She glared at him as he made his way to the platform to wait foe his train.

He didn't care that he had angered her. He knew what her future had in store for her.

He had experienced it himself.

The Family on the Train (A Quick Observation)

It was the family's first trip out of town. The three of them sat eagerly on the train, anxiously wondering if their fortunes would change in Melbourne.

To show his independence the son sat on a different set of four seats to his parents. But as soon as he heard the conductor announce that the train would be stopping at more stations and picking up more passengers he quickly rejoined his parents and sat next to his father. Despite their rough appearance, or maybe because of this, the family had interacted with few people outside of their little unit. The thought of sitting next to a stranger was just too much for the son.

As the train departed the station, the whole family played around with their own iPhone, the father and son showing each other the games they were playing and trying to beat the other's high score. The mother stared sullenly out the window listening to music through bright green earphones that matched the Monster can she was drinking from. Of the three of them, she was the least excited about their move to Melbourne. Probably because they were moving with only the clothes on their backs, their iPhones and whatever money they had in the pockets.

Not the best new beginning.

Especially when moving to a big city like Melbourne.

But she knew that it was their only choice. That they had to hope for the best once they arrived. Hope that at least one of the three could find find work go support the rest.

They all knew that their chances of finding working were bleak. But no one voiced this fear. Choosing to ignore that they could be stuck in a big, strange city with the friends or family and without any food and shelter. Without a way back home.

This was their last chance to survive.

None of them were willing to acknowledge that this venture could , and most probably would, fail. The consequences were too dire for them if it did.

Vline, The Time Traveller's Choice of Transport

I have often wondered why the Vline drivers sometimes announce that the train will be running express from Melton to Bacchus Marsh, Bacchus Marsh to Ballan etc etc when it's very clear that there are no stops to stop at between those places.

Who would be foolish enough to think that they could take the train to a stop between Ballan and Ballarat?

But then it just occurred to me, the time travellers might not be aware that these stops don't exist at this time. The announcements about running express are for their benefit.

That's right, Vline is in collusion with the time travellers.

You'd think with time travellers Vline would manage to be punctual more often.

Words That Vex Me

Colonel really is a stupid word.

Well, the way that it's pronounced is; kernel.

if it's going to be pronounced that way, then at least it should be spelt a little more phonetically ... or at the very least, it should be spelt a little less like colony.

Or are we just mispronouncing colony? Should we be, in fact, pronouncing it kerny?

Well, according to Google, everyone who pronounces colonel kernel is wrong: colo·nel.