Parish of Cooks River [4/5]

After an hour's wander around and through the graveyard, I turned my attention to the church itself. And no sooner had I done so than the pastor, Andrew, came over to chat with me. He was most generous with his time, even once he realised it was the history of the church which had lured me there, rather than the word of The Lord.

So, he opened it up and gave me a guided tour, and graciously left me alone, asking me to pull the door to on my departure. The building is showing its age, and although loved, could do with more TLC than its meagre parishioners can afford. It started off as a church in a working class area, sans bells and whistles. And although the surrounding streets are becoming just a little bit gentrified, the educated middle-class are not frequenters of churches in this country. I do not think they are at any rate. However, the community is beginning to use the hall for a range of activities that will bring in a bit of money. But it is the history of the place that they are working upon. More on that in the final post.

MYM - Daffodil Day

Unfazed by the chilly wind blowing up the concourse, the students of Sydney Girls’ High and Sydney Boys’ High bustled around their stall at Central Station on Friday last. Their enthusiasm and happiness were infectious as they did a roaring trade extracting donations from the floods of commuters.

Based on a similar day in Canada, and established as an Australia-wide event in 1992, Daffodil Day raises around $8,000,000 to assist in the fight against cancer.


A member of the Mellow Yellow Monday community.

Back to the future

To get a good handle on where you're going, sometimes it helps to know where you have been. Knowledge of what is in front, is informed by what was behind.

Conserving details of each generation of a family is a valuable marker for people desperate to know where they fit in, and even for people who know exactly where they are going. Items don't have to be hierlooms in the commonly accepted concept of worth-a-fortune. Postcards, scribbles on the back of envelopes, ragged letters tumbling from tatty envelopes: all contribute to the fullest picture we can manage of a generation.


The State Library of NSW in Macquarie Street held a "Preserving your Family History" course on Friday where we listened to the "does and don'ts" before having a 1-to-1 with up to four specialist conservators with reference to specific items. I took in my father's drivers' licence from WW2, a letter written by my grandmother in 1910 and the diary of my uncle who died in London in 1956. They were all symptomatic of the problems of my collection as a whole.

I'm forever blowing bubbles

Instead of alighting the westbound platform at Newtown station, perhaps I found a new exit from platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross station. Whichever it was, my journey from Double Bay to Newtown on Sunday teleported me to the Kingdom of Feral.

The old, the young and the very young are carving out life their way in the inner city and they are a very happy bunch of [insert sub-culture of choice here]. They are certainly community minded, if the turnout for the Newtown Festival is anything to go by.

Head nod to "Jaan Kenbrovin" for the title.

The boys on the avenue

Frenetic competing passions belie the low slung comfort of bums on seats; Assessing horseflesh like bidders in an auction ring genetically programmed to disrobe the passing talent - before groping for yet another greasy burger. Mates - comfortable in their own skin and their shared world view.

Bondi Junction Mall Head nod to Patty Smyth for the title

Taswegians: one part soil, two parts weather

An island separate from the mainland, yet an integral part of the nation, Tasmania (named after the Dutchman, Abel Tasman, who bumped into it in 1642 and called it Van Dieman's Land) lies in the direct path of the Roaring Forties and is the port for our Antartic scientific fleet.


Famed for its salmon and trout, for its apples and its potatoes, for its timber and for its wilderness, Tasmania is fiercely defended by those born there and the increasing number of mainlanders who sea-change themselves down there.


The isolation, the landforms and the weather have bred a tendency towards conservatism, politeness and acceptance. The pace of life is slowed, the socio-economic standards are lower, but the happiness, conviviality and acceptance is heightened.


Noncommital rather than taciturn - until the conversation turns to logging old growth forests, or using waters from pristine waterways to power through pulp mills - Taswegians are the friendliest, most down-to-earth community that I have meandered through in many a year.

The DCP follows the LEP all managed by the CSPC

An aerial map of the Harold Park site including the tram sheds which are the red rectangles in the top RH corner of the red outlined area.

From the Lord Mayor's Media machine today, I received an email releasing the Community Consultation papers for the planning of the Harold Park site. If you recall, last week I did a series on the area, including the canal, the harness racing track, the lite-rail and the disused tram sheds. Riffling through the guff in my snail-mail box, I received a paper copy of a very similar document. Last night, as I photographed some really beautiful terraces along The Crescent, I was button-holed by a resident - Gareth - and the conversation quickly turned to the future of the large valley behind us.

Two women will be guiding this decision: Clover Moore, the Lord Mayor of Sydney and Kristina Keneally the state government Minister for Planning.

It peeves me that I will be inter-state next week when all the consultation will take place with the community. Then it goes to the Committee heavily weighted (well 4-3) in favour of the Planning Minister. Do read the story about her at the link - she is a regular little charmer. I will make my submissions online. I will put my thoughts up on Plumbing should you be interested.

The documents indicate that Harold Park Paceway value the development potential at $760m which is a bit rich considering they want to sell to avoid losing money; that the land for the paceway came from the government in 1902 and ownership of the tram sheds was transferred to them in 2002 - nothing about them paying anything for the land or the sheds. The tram sheds are heritage listed under the Leichhardt LEP, 2000.

Below, is a view of the harness race-track that is Harold Park.

DCP = Development Control Plan
LEp = Local Environmental Plan
CSPC = Central Sydney Planning Committee

Steppin' out

A Sydney winter Sunday easing down to evening 20C mild and calm hangin' out communally.

Hands

May I please direct your attention to the band-aids ...

Pyrmont Growers' Market: Simon sizzling

Could this boy cook up a storm? Yes siree: he surely could! And he had an attractiveness that was all character. What I believe we refer to as charisma!


It was the way he flipped the beef-patties from the wrist. It was the way he caressed the jet of sauce over the underbelly of the bun. It was the constant stream of slightly-blue patter ... and the grin. And judging by the queues, his hamburgers were crash hot, too!

And may I draw your attention to his logo: he purposefully stripped so that my camera caught his pecs proudly displaying the family farm logo!

Pyrmont Growers' Market: the produce

Cultural cringe: maybe! But, this market stacked up pretty good against Rue Moufftard and Uzes. Yeah, yeah I know: how dare I compare something brash and Australian with something 'spisticated and elegantly French. So here's a go: there are four images from the Pyrmont Market in this post and four images from either Moufftard or Uzes. Pick 'em!


Well ... maybe the signs are a bit of a give-a-way ... Hell, I'm gonna get me an old lady's shopping trolley: a red 'un ... and a beret ... a thin cigar ... young fella ...

Pyrmont Growers' Market: David smokin'

There is a technique known as "schmoozing" which David here has by the bucket-load. I would have punched this little Chinese lady on the schnozz: she was delicate, she was well-spoken, she was elegant. She asked for honey cured slabs in preference to shavings: she wanted ribs in lots of 4 rather than 8. When he had fetched and wrapped she then told him that she did not want them today; just wanted to see if he could supply what she MIGHT want down the track. Arrrgggghhhhh!!!!! But not our Kaz (David) he just sweetly asked if she was leading him on ...

Eumundi Smokehouse was wall-to-wall customers: one set being my daughter and her husband who breakfasted on an egg'n'bacon roll and bought a bunch of ribs for 'ron. Kaz settled in the big smoke after a sojourn through Queensland which gave him his trading name. He was a delight and is on my list for next month.

Pyrmont Growers' Market : 10 years strong

Pyrmont bustles under the very shadow of the city itself: settled early in the history of the colony,described by wharves and piers and deep anchorages. On the first Saturday of each month, a motley crew of wharves hosts one of the many incarnations of Grower's Markets that are spreading across the greater city. Compared with the previous day when a bitter wind tugged at the collar and whistled down the ear canal, on Saturday we were blessed with a glorious winter's day.


Arriving early and introducing myself to stall-holders, I felt like a long lost cousin. Strangers approached me to tell me of their favourite market "character" and how I really should meet them! Over the next few days I will introduce you to Uncle Andrew, Simon the BBQ whiz, Raewin who can't help it if she is a Kiwi and the indefatibible David who is smmmokin'.

What did I buy? A raspberry pie for $10. Two chunks of oozing cheese for a total of just under $20. A spinach and ricotta quiche for $6. A walnut, fig and raisin loaf for $7.50. Now that I know the extent and quality of the produce, next month I will ensure my crisper is bare and prepare me a list.


Prompted by Frances' comment, here are the location details. Parking is a bit of a hassle. There are some 2 hour meters but mostly 1 hour. I refuse to park in the Casino carpark for $18. Instead, I parked way over near the Fish Markets for free - and trudged up the ridge and over for about 15 minutes.