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C ARS, CARS AND MORE CARS.

~ creakingbones ~ 4 Comments

Out of the blue one day last week, She Who Must Be Obeyed suggested we buy a new car.

Great idea I thought, our present vehicles are large and cumbersome, will not fit in multi story car parks, are expensive to maintain and are getting a bit long in the tooth.

Mr Brown as we call him is 31 years old and qualifies to be registered as an historic vehicle. We bought him new in 1984 and he has travelled nearly 500,000 klms. Still goes like a rocket and  never ‘fails to proceed’ as is said in Rolls Royce parlance.

Then there is Mr Green. He is a lot younger at only 13 year of age. He too has been up a few hills and is nearing 400,000 klms on the clock.

As you can see, we are not sit at home types.

So, the tyre kicking commenced almost immediately.

Of course, our two beloved Landrovers were not going to be looking for a new home. Indeed not, they are part of the fabric of life at Casa Creakingbones and thoughts of trade ins or for sale signs were never a consideration.

First, VW’s. Lovely, smart, a little quirky, reasonably priced and the two of us could fit in the front of the vehicle range with reasonable comfort.

Next we looked at the KIA range. The Cerato with all its modern electronics and gadgetry was spacious, comfortable, within our price range and the colours available were all desirable. It even has a full size spare tyre and wheel.

Then came the Mazda 3. Wow, luxuries galore, everything that opens and shuts, sharp pricing, great reputation and is the most popular small car in our little part of the world.

Not far away from the Mazda dealership is the Nissan car yard. Boy oh boy, is the Nissan Pulsar SSS a car and a half. Electronics everywhere, turbocharged petrol engine, loads of torque, spacious, great trunk for filling with groceries or picnic gear. In metallic red paint it looks like a million dollars on wheels.

Finally we took a peek at the little Suzuki Swift. Great little machine, realistic price too, you could buy a matching pair for just a tad under the cost of the top of the range models we had previously looked at.

Back at home, armed with brochures, price lists, option schedules, service costs, road side assist tables, standard and extended warranty comparison sheets, we commenced drawing up our comparison list. Regular references to reviews contained within Mr Google were also undertaken.

All done we began allocating points out of ten for relevant features in order to reach a rational conclusion about our intended purchase. Colour was not an issue as we both know that heat from the sun comes in through the car windows, not through the body work, so white or black, who cares.

Then we had a spontaneous joint eureka moment. Are we both stark raving mad? Why do we need another car?

We have two vehicles already, both pass mechanical inspection tests, are regularly serviced and  reliable. We know them backwards, they even have matching number plates and I suspect they even know their names.

Then there is the motor bike too and three bicycles. As an extra bonus, we live within easy walking distance of our town’s main street and it’s only $10.00 in a taxi if we don’t feel like walking home with the groceries.

Then there was immediate consensus over the inevitable coffee break. A new car is no longer on our acquisition list.

On Monday I’ll be on the phone to each of the friendly salesmen we met, just to let them know that we are out of the market but will keep them in mind should we embark on this exercise again in future.

The car bit out of the way, I can now begin to scheme and plot about acquiring a hot air balloon.

Hoo roo for now.

A BIT MORE DOGGEREL

~ creakingbones ~ 6 Comments

Yesterday Priceless Joy commented that doggerels sound like fun and how right she is.

Many famous writers have from time to time dabbled in doggerel and Lewis Carroll, famous for his marvellous works, Alice in Wonderland, Alice through the Looking Glass and The Hunting of the Snark was one of the great masters.

Try as I might, I’ve never been able to memorise examples of his doggerel, with one exception. After you’ve read this short little extract from Chapter 1 of Alice through the looking Glass I’m sure you will understand:

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gamble in the wabe, all mimsy were the borogoves, and the more rates outgrabe.’

‘Beware the Jabberwocky, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!’

And as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the bulgy wood, and burbled as it came!

Now, just for fun, try reading it out loud two or three times, it’s quite a hoot. Don’t even bother with pronunciation.Then try committing it to memory. I kid you not, it’s pretty difficult to accomplish.

The one I can remember is from Carroll’s ‘The Hunting of the Snark’ described, I once read as ‘An agony in eight fits’.

Anyway, here we go:

He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare with an upwardly wag of the head and he once went a walk hand in hand with a bear just to keep up its spirits he said.

These days writers seem to have become terribly serious in their work and I haven’t come across too many examples of doggerel since I had the pleasure of reading some of the scripts from the old BBC production of the Goon Show.  Spike Milligan was masters of the art.

I’m certain if you dig around you will find lots of doggerel to keep you amused and you might even write some yourself.

Hoo roo for now.

THE DAY MY MAC MINI DIED

~ creakingbones ~ 14 Comments

Back in July my iMac refused to upload images to my blog.To overcome the problem I turned to MacBook Pro where everything worked fine except being an old Mac using an outdated operating system it was snail pace slow and took forever to process RAW images..

Then I remembered that I’d mothballed my old Mac Mini and it’s resurrection commenced.

First I had to load Photoshop CS6. All went well until Adobe called for the key to my copy of Photoshop CS5 extended before CS6 would load.

Being a bit of a bower bird I located the vital key, uploaded the numerals and bingo, all went well for about ten milliseconds before my power board flipped its circuit breaker.  OK thought I, switched the breaker back on and OH no, same thing. Tried again and wow, mini burped, screen illuminated, the Apple logo appeared and then so did the dreaded bloody rainbow coloured revolving wheel.

After four or five more attempts with the mini and efforts to get my beloved Photoshop CS6 disk released I was stumped. It was was  firmly lodged in the mini. How to retrieve it. All methods know to man failed.

Off to the nearest Apple store, only 60 miles away. Mini in hand. Fantastic service too. ‘How long have you had it’? I was asked. ‘Quite a while’, said I. ‘What’s the matter with it’? ‘My Photoshop disk is stuck in it’. I replied.

With that the Apple engineer peered at the back of the mini case, entered its serial number into his computer and told me the Mini was ‘Vintage, can’t be repaired because parts are no longer available’. ‘After all,’ he said,’It was made in 2007′.

I enquired how I could open the case as there were no visible screws. My Apple man smiled as only a genuine computer nerd can, and proudly informed me that there were no visible points of entry. I’d already alluded to that fact.

Back home with a new Mac Mini under my arm I turned to the traditional blokes method of opening an object when all else fails; a screwdriver and a bit of brute force. On this occasion a hammer was unnecessary.

The good news is that after totally destroying my old mini I retrieved the CS6 disk undamaged and have now successfully uploaded it to the this new mini.

For your absolute amusement, hereunder are a few images of my handiwork. No need for the images to have titles, they speak for themselves.

Mac mini destruction_20150802_0028 copy

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0006 copy

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0007 copy

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0008 copy

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0009 copy

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0010-2

I’ve got a few ideas about the names of these parts but as this is a family oriented blog, their names shall remain unrecorded. I’m sure you know where I’m coming from.

However, the next image is a positive sign of my computer savvy and undoubted capacity to recover, intact, a disk stuck in a vintage Mac Mini.

Mac mini destruction_20150803_0015 copy

Hoo roo for now.

CASA CREAKINGBONES AND SOME OF OUR RESIDENT MAGPIES

~ creakingbones ~ 11 Comments

The Australian Magpie is a black and white bird found in all areas of Australia except in the arid almost treeless desert country.

Totally adapted to the presence of humans and happily established in cities and towns Magpies are welcome visitors to residential backyards where their beautiful call makes a pleasing and melodic accompaniment to early morning risers.

The Magpie is strongly defensive of its environment and in the breeding season is known to attack humans and pets that come to close to their breeding areas. This has never occurred to residents or pets at Cassa Creakingbones.

Magpie family groups can number up to 24 birds and once they adopt a backyard, if you have made the mistake of feeding them, they are almost impossible evict.

That is exactly what has occurred at Casa Creakingbones. We took the decision about 15 years ago to feed about four Maggies that visited from time to time. It wasn’t long before we were hand feeding them with mince meat, toast and the occasional biscuit. That is when our visitors moved in permanently.

Now, just after the breeding season in spring and early summer, their numbers in our backyard can number up to 30 or 40 resident individuals. We know that we should not feed them but it’s amusing to watch their antics, listen to their wonderful songs and from time to time, break up quite violent fights as the elders work to drive unwanted members of the clan to places new.

Once a week it’s necessary to pressure wash our kitchen window sill and the area near the backdoor of their copious droppings. You see, the little devils, the moment they observe movement in our kitchen swoop down and land on the kitchen window sill and rap on the glass with their beaks to remind us that they are hungry. The glass gets grubby and the window sill, well, I leave it to your imagination.

Today was no exception, as our lunch was being prepared, eight magpies arrived at the back door and four of their number settled on the window sill, waiting to be hand fed with beef mince and toast, their favourite.

Now I should add that they are quite tame, our cat Ginger can wander around among them and cause no distress. Not only that, if we leave a door or window open, the four of them come immediately inside to feasts on the cat’s food. No, they are not house trained and after we have managed to convince them to leave, the carpet cleaner is put to good use.

Today I decided to grab a few images of the lunch time occurrence and took a quick shot of the four on the windowsill and then around the back door and their carefree attitude to Ginger the cat.

GINGER AND THE MAGPIES COEXIST PEACEFULLY.
GINGER AND THE MAGPIES COEXIST PEACEFULLY.
WAITING FOR THE BACK DOOR TO OPEN
WAITING FOR THE BACK DOOR TO OPEN
MAGPIES ON THE KITCHEN WINDOWSILL.
MAGPIES ON THE KITCHEN WINDOWSILL.

LANDROVERS, THE ULTIMATE 4X4 BY FAR REVISITED

~ creakingbones ~ 7 Comments

When I wrote the original of this post, it was my intention to illustrate my narrative with images from trips in our Landrover She Who Must Be Obeyed and myself have taken in our Landrovers. That part of the exercise failed and now, using my MacBook Pro the uploading of the images can occur.

So, here are the images I intended to show you:

MR BROWN SWIMMING NEAR TOM GROGGAN
MR BROWN SWIMMING NEAR TOM GROAN
MR GREEN PLAYING IN A PUDDLE NEAR COWOMBAT FLAT IN VICTORIAN HIGH COUNTRY
MR GREEN PLAYING IN A PUDDLE NEAR COWOMBAT FLAT IN VICTORIAN HIGH COUNTRY
A COLDISH CAMPSITE ON THE DARGO HIGH PLAINS IN VICTORIA.
A COLDISH CAMPSITE ON THE DARGO HIGH PLAINS IN VICTORIA.
A LONG AND DUSTY ROAD IN FAR WEST QUEENSLAND
A LONG AND DUSTY ROAD IN FAR WEST QUEENSLAND
ABOVE THE SNOWLINE, WALKERS ONLY HERE SO WE ALWAYS PARK AND WANDER DOWN A WAYS ON FOOT.
ABOVE THE SNOWLINE, WALKERS ONLY HERE SO WE ALWAYS PARK AND WANDER DOWN A WAYS ON FOOT.
THE RESULT OF BUSH FIRES AND STRONG ALPINE WINDS.
THE RESULT OF BUSH FIRES AND STRONG ALPINE WIND
MY DRIASABONE KEPT THE FROST OFF THE BOTTOM OF MY SWAG IN THE VICTORIAN ALPS.
MY DRIASABONE KEPT THE FROST OFF THE BOTTOM OF MY SWAG IN THE VICTORIAN ALPS.
A TRANQUIL STRETCH OF THE SNOWY RIVER NEAR THE VICTORIAN-NEW SOUTH WALES BORDER.
A TRANQUIL STRETCH OF THE SNOWY RIVER NEAR THE VICTORIAN-NEW SOUTH WALES BORDER.
SUNSET NEAR TIBOOBURRA IN FAR WEST NEW SOUTH WALES.
SUNSET NEAR TIBOOBURRA IN FAR WEST NEW SOUTH WALES.
MY MATE IN THE 'YELLOW PERIL' HAVING SOME WADING PRACTISE.
MY MATE IN THE ‘YELLOW PERIL’ HAVING SOME WADING PRACTISE.

These image are not in any order,neither numerical nor chronological. A number of them are scans from slides made on Kodachrome 64 and some using my Nikon D100 before I had it converted to infra red only.

With any luck over the next few days I’ll have unravelled why the IMac refuses to upload images and when I do, whackoh.

Hoo roo for now

ONCE UPON A TIME REVISITED

~ creakingbones

Yesterday I encountered a mysterious problem that prevented me from uploading images to the blog I was composing.

In a test earlier today, I switched over to this MacBook Pro and lo and behold, an upload actually worked. Bravo.

So, without further ado, and before the mysterious gremlin returns, herewith the magic mug I wrote about yesterday.

A SPECIAL LOGO ON A SPECIAL MUG
A SPECIAL LOGO ON A SPECIAL MUG

Hoo roo

ONCE UPON A TIME.

~ creakingbones ~ 2 Comments

I was spurred to write here today because of two events which occurred, one yesterday and one today. Prima facie, individually they appear totally unrelated but when viewed together by a few individuals are seen to be closely linked. I just happen to be one of those individuals.

‘How is it so’ to quote the late Professor Julius Sumner Miller.

Well yesterday I was totally unable to upload any of my images onto this WordPress site. No big deal you might say but without supporting images the thrust of yesterday’s blog was lost. Event number One.

Then today,  She Who Must be Obeyed, when examining the darkened interior of a rarely accessed  cupboard came across an interesting and never used white coffee cup bearing a most unusual  logo of a black hat with black sun glasses beneath the hat with the dates 1940-1997.  Event number Two.

Once upon a time I was fortunate to be a part of an organisation that preferred to be  the ‘unseen and unheard of’ element of the main organisation. In fact, had we been able to become invisible, many of our tasks would have been oh, so simple.

Now photography was an essential element of the job and without photographs the thrust of our written work (not in invisible ink of course) would have been lost. Go back to Event No. One.

That brings me to the mysterious coffee cup.

The Unseen and Unheard element of the main organisation was formed in 1940 shortly after the outbreak of WW11. It’s task was to be on the lookout for fifth columnists, communist sympathisers, members of the Communist Party, aliens and any other people or organisations perceived by the powers that be to be a threat to National Security. Photography was an essential activity.

In addition gathering information and reporting to the main organisation, the reports and photographs made their way to Federal agencies with a similar mandate.

During the times of civil disobedience Australia’s involvement in the Vietnam conflict and the implementation of conscription, it was exciting and extremely busy working in the ‘unseen and unheard’ element. The information flow was the same in the 1960’s as it had been in the 1940’s.

I learned a lot about available light photography, black and white film processing and printing. More   importantly, I was also getting to understanding what motivated normally law abiding people to express their political views and opinions in sometimes forceful and unlawful ways.

Eventually I came out of the shadows as they say and went into another line of work in the main organisation.

Then in 1997 the Government of the day determined that the ‘unseen and unheard’ element had outlived its usefulness and it was disbanded without fanfare.

Subsequently, a reunion of those of us who had worked there was held and only the coffee mugs with the black hat and black sunglasses survive to remind us of the work we carried out. Go back to Event No Two.

What a coincidence, Event No. One and Event No. Two have come together to suggest this blog to me so here we are. A report unsupported by photography. Impact lost.

Hoo roo for now.

FIRST IT’S BOOT AND NEXT IT’S SHOES AND SLIPPERS! WHERE WILL IT EVER END?

~ creakingbones ~ 9 Comments

A man’s wardrobe (closet for our American cousins) should contain footwear to meet every eventuality. In my case I’ve tried to so do, with one exception, dancing pumps. I’ve been informed on many occasions that I have two left feet so it naturally follows that I have no need for dancing pumps.

Now as you may have gathered, boots are my preferred footwear and, in the unlikely event that I take up boot scooting all I’ll need to acquire is the appropriate clothing. I should advise you that I already have a reasonable collection of belt buckles. It’s an Hartley owners thing.

Like most Aussies who live in rural Australia, I  wear an Akubra hat, the Aussie version of a Stetson. Our Akubras are made  in Australia from genuine rabbit fur and are the favoured headwear of Australian cockies. That’s our slang for ranchers and general farmers and graziers.

Some useless information by the way, Akubra manufactured the Slouch Hat for our armed forces. In military Q store parlance they are known as,’ Hats, Khaki, Fur Felt’.

Now in order to keep the record straight, this morning I photographed my shoes and for accuracy’s sake included my two pairs of riding boots, one black pair, they’re R M Williams and one brown pair, they’re Baxters.  Baxters are made right here in my home town. Of course I always wear a brown leather belt with the brown boots and a black leather belt with the black boots.

I don’t ride horses, but the riding boots are my around town footwear and blend in totally with the local cockies who wear them too.

As I’m on a health kick, I included my joggers, my walkers, my bush walking boots and my slippers that are so necessary to wear during my after exercise recovery stage.

So here they are, shoes and riding boots first, followed by sports shoes, bush walking boots, slippers and that Aussie ikon, my Akubra hat:

DRESS SHOES AND RIDING BOOTS.
                                  DRESS SHOES AND RIDING BOOTS.
RUNNERS, WALKERS, BUSH WALKING BOOTS AND SLIPPERS
RUNNERS, WALKERS, BUSH WALKING BOOTS AND MY SLIPPERS
MY AKUBRA HAT.
                                        MY WELL WORN AKUBRA HAT.

She who must be obeyed told me that she is worried I might next be photographing and posting about table cloths, doilies, tea towels, bath salts, nail clippers, emery boards, tea sets and more intimate items of clothing.

I’ve given her a written(in blood – mine) assurance that this will never, never occur.

After all, I’ve my image as a hard nosed Aussie Harley Biker to maintain.

MOTOR CYCLE BOOTS GALORE

~ creakingbones ~ 6 Comments

Yesterday with a group fellow motorcyclists we were discussing our bikes and how our gear accumulates over time.  Somehow or other the conversation turned to an old Vaughn Monroe song,’Black Denim Trousers and Motor Cycle Boots’ that was on the hit parade back about 1955. Don’t ask me how the song entered into our conversation but we all agreed how much we liked the lyrics.

Then someone remarked that in the song, after the tattooed rider crashed, all that could be found were his,’Black denim trousers and  motor cycle boots and his black leather jacket with an eagle on the back’. We all agreed that our wardrobes (closets for our American cousins) were full of ‘black denim trousers, motorcycle boots and black leather jackets’.

No mention was made of any kind of clear our and disposal. Oh no, each item had its own link to particular events and had to be retained at any cost.

So, this morning when my wife was away playing golf, I decided to see what goodies lurked in the dark corners of our walk in wardrobe.

Now jeans are jeans and I’m sure that during the night they breed because there seemed to be more pairs there this morning  than when I looked yesterday. Leather jackets, no, because they have their own cupboard in the bike shed.

However my motorcycle boot collection turned out to be another matter entirely. There seemed to be a never ending collection lurking in the dark against the back wall.

Seven pairs of motor cycle boots. I know, I can only wear one pair at a time but being a bloke, there is a special reason for having each individual pair. Don’t worry, I won’t go into too much detail.

However, I must tell you, the two tall pairs in the centre are known here by their brand name, ‘Jonny Rebs’. They are almost compulsory foot wear for Harley riders. The boots at the far right with the red labels are Goretex® lined Harley Davidson riders boots. Ideal for wet weather riding.

The shortest of the three tall pairs are by an Australian outback legend, R.M. Williams, known as the Bushman’s Outfitter. I’ve worn these boots on and off the bike for over thirty years. The soles and heels have been replaced many times, but the uppers, apart from one small bit where my dog chewed some leather away, are as fine as the day I purchased them.

Here they are, all in a row. I apologise for the lens distortion that makes our family room walls look other than vertical. That’s the problem caused by using a 20mm lens and not giving enough space at the edges of the image to make lens correction in Photoshop.

BOOTS, BOOTS AND MORE BOOTS
                             BOOTS, BOOTS AND MORE BOOTS

One thing’s for sure, my collection will give my heirs and successors something to argue about  when they get me ready for my last ride to boot hill. On a Harley Davidson of course.

PS, now I have to put them all away.

BIRDS ON THE WING

~ creakingbones ~ 8 Comments

Yesterday juliav1, Travelling Banana, posted great images of an Heron in her blog Moment and Motion.

By coincidence, earlier this week, I had the chance to grab an image of a group of Galahs sitting on the power cables near our house, about 150 or so yards away from where I was standing.

Just as I focussed a pair took flight and I was able to grab the ‘moment and motion’.

Here’s that image in full:

GALAHS ON TAKE OFF.
GALAHS ON TAKE OFF.
ON THE WING
ON THE WING

By cropping the image you get a better look at the two Galahs.

The combined weight of the camera and lens is just over eight pounds and normally I mount the combination on a tripod. In this instance I just happened to have the camera by itself and took the shot hand held, accounting for the image being not as sharp as I would have liked, even though the shutter speed was greater than the focal length of the lens and VR was activated.

For the technically minded, exposure was 1/640th second at f6.3, aperture priority, ISO 1400, focal length 600mm.

The uncropped image file is quite large,9000 x 6007 pixels per inch, or 30″x 20.023″, resolution 300 pixels per inch. Straight off the camera the file was quite large at 24MB.

I know that this technical jargon can be a pain in the proverbial but sometimes it’s good, like just now,  because often obfuscation can helps disguise the errors in the image.