Jane Routley's Blog, page 9
October 15, 2014
Cooking the BBQ
Cooking the BBQ
Its show time and as per usual, it’s been my job to cook BBQ for the other workers on the Showgrounds station. Dinner and Lunch, Sausages, burgers and onions – it makes for nice atmosphere (if a slightly grubby stinky Jane). So that makes 24 straight BBQ, I and the little Jumbuck BBQ have done together. I’m not sure why the little Jumbuck caught alight last night. I have been wiping it over after ever meal, though perhaps not delving into the drip tray as assiduously as I should. Perhaps it was the rain water from the torrential storm that had passed over a half hour before. Perhaps it was the fact in the rush to put up the marquee and get the burners going so that dinner would be ready for dinner break, I forgot to empty the grease tray last night. Anyway after half an hour it became clear that the flames leaping out of the BBQ weren’t coming out of the burners. The various steps I took to stop them, such as turning off the gas, lowering the hood and putting on salt didn’t stop the burning. The police patrol who had stopped in for a quick sausage in bread, kindly helped me wheel the burning BBQ free of the Marquee which was now under a threat from the flames leaping out from under the grilled and suggested I remove the meat which had suddenly become very well cooked. Together we stood and watched the fire burn itself out while dusk fell, the neon lights went on in the Showgrounds and huge black rain clouds swept over the race course towards us. The little Jumbuck didn’t look too damanged, but I dread to think what its innards look like. A friend has suggested that I’ve been flamed by the ovine spirits for using a BBQ named after a shep for cooking BBQ.
Its show time and as per usual, it’s been my job to cook BBQ for the other workers on the Showgrounds station. Dinner and Lunch, Sausages, burgers and onions – it makes for nice atmosphere (if a slightly grubby stinky Jane). So that makes 24 straight BBQ, I and the little Jumbuck BBQ have done together. I’m not sure why the little Jumbuck caught alight last night. I have been wiping it over after ever meal, though perhaps not delving into the drip tray as assiduously as I should. Perhaps it was the rain water from the torrential storm that had passed over a half hour before. Perhaps it was the fact in the rush to put up the marquee and get the burners going so that dinner would be ready for dinner break, I forgot to empty the grease tray last night. Anyway after half an hour it became clear that the flames leaping out of the BBQ weren’t coming out of the burners. The various steps I took to stop them, such as turning off the gas, lowering the hood and putting on salt didn’t stop the burning. The police patrol who had stopped in for a quick sausage in bread, kindly helped me wheel the burning BBQ free of the Marquee which was now under a threat from the flames leaping out from under the grilled and suggested I remove the meat which had suddenly become very well cooked. Together we stood and watched the fire burn itself out while dusk fell, the neon lights went on in the Showgrounds and huge black rain clouds swept over the race course towards us. The little Jumbuck didn’t look too damanged, but I dread to think what its innards look like. A friend has suggested that I’ve been flamed by the ovine spirits for using a BBQ named after a shep for cooking BBQ.
Zombies, Seniors and Hot Cross Buns
Seniors week and the trains are full of happy seniors living large, going places (for Free!) taking country trains or taking their grandchildren to the zoo(for Free!). For instance I met two at the junction station who had been up to Flemington Bridge to the Homy Ped shoe factory there (4 pairs of shoes for $150!) and were now off to Werribee to visit a friend. Such larks!
Seniors week didn’t make much difference to Mr A. He’s an elderly Italian man with such bad arthritis in his shrunken swollen fingers, he has trouble gripping his MYKI card and we all just open the gate for him instead. Every day regular as clockwork he stumps in and takes the train over to Footscray market to do his shopping. He goes on the weekends when his family visits and he needs two trips to manage the load
There was a Zombie shuffle in town and about half a dozen Zombies dressed up in their excellent blood red and rot black make-up came through. What was funniest was the way the ticket inspectors stiffened when they saw them. Not being as hip and cool to the trend as Moi , they thought they had a first aid situation on their hands.
But the cutest thing I saw at the junction didn’t concern seniors. It was the nerdy youth all in heavy metal black with the upside down white cross on his black baseball cap. Made him look like a hot cross bun. Sooo Cute!
Probably not the effect he was going for.
Seniors week didn’t make much difference to Mr A. He’s an elderly Italian man with such bad arthritis in his shrunken swollen fingers, he has trouble gripping his MYKI card and we all just open the gate for him instead. Every day regular as clockwork he stumps in and takes the train over to Footscray market to do his shopping. He goes on the weekends when his family visits and he needs two trips to manage the load
There was a Zombie shuffle in town and about half a dozen Zombies dressed up in their excellent blood red and rot black make-up came through. What was funniest was the way the ticket inspectors stiffened when they saw them. Not being as hip and cool to the trend as Moi , they thought they had a first aid situation on their hands.
But the cutest thing I saw at the junction didn’t concern seniors. It was the nerdy youth all in heavy metal black with the upside down white cross on his black baseball cap. Made him look like a hot cross bun. Sooo Cute!
Probably not the effect he was going for.
Dog Story
Dog Story
The police arrested someone down on the platforms at the junction. Judging from the fist-sized item wrapped in a plastic shopping bag, the charge was possession. (Aren’t the supermarkets sooo thoughtful for providing people with something to wrap their drugs in?) They lead the downcast man up and waited for the Police van just beside the barriers where I was working They also brought the dog the man had with him – a docile black and tan Kelpie cross which they tied to the fence. “We’ll just take this guy down to the station and charge him. Then we’ll let him out and he can come collect the dog,” said they. And off they went in the van.
This was about 5.00 pm. The dog sat there for a while peering alertly in the direction the van had driven off. Then something scared it and it started to cringe and shiver. You could tell it was afraid it had been abandoned.
Dogs make me itch and sneeze, but the young medic and various customers and PSOs made soothing noises, patted the dog and brought it water which might have comforted it but didn’t stop its shivering.
People rushed past on their way home, the day darkened, the lights came on and by the time my shift had finished at 7.00 the dog was still waiting. It was a lovely dog and had many offers of a home. We seriously discussed calling the RSPC but wiser heads told us that everything goes very slowly at a police station and the guy might still be back for his dog. Sure enough when I rang back at 9.00 the dog had been picked up. Would the dog have been better off if we had called the RSPC? Or would we have been separating a troubled man from his most devoted friend? Hard to call that one.
The police arrested someone down on the platforms at the junction. Judging from the fist-sized item wrapped in a plastic shopping bag, the charge was possession. (Aren’t the supermarkets sooo thoughtful for providing people with something to wrap their drugs in?) They lead the downcast man up and waited for the Police van just beside the barriers where I was working They also brought the dog the man had with him – a docile black and tan Kelpie cross which they tied to the fence. “We’ll just take this guy down to the station and charge him. Then we’ll let him out and he can come collect the dog,” said they. And off they went in the van.
This was about 5.00 pm. The dog sat there for a while peering alertly in the direction the van had driven off. Then something scared it and it started to cringe and shiver. You could tell it was afraid it had been abandoned.
Dogs make me itch and sneeze, but the young medic and various customers and PSOs made soothing noises, patted the dog and brought it water which might have comforted it but didn’t stop its shivering.
People rushed past on their way home, the day darkened, the lights came on and by the time my shift had finished at 7.00 the dog was still waiting. It was a lovely dog and had many offers of a home. We seriously discussed calling the RSPC but wiser heads told us that everything goes very slowly at a police station and the guy might still be back for his dog. Sure enough when I rang back at 9.00 the dog had been picked up. Would the dog have been better off if we had called the RSPC? Or would we have been separating a troubled man from his most devoted friend? Hard to call that one.
August 5, 2014
Golf Carts out of control!
Last week I surprised two men attempting to drive an electric golf cart in at the front door of the station. They looked at me in dismay and said “But no one’s supposed to be here.” And “You’ve ruined all our fun.” And they backed off and drove away. What fun was this? Were they going to do a three point turn in the waiting room? Or hoon up and down the platform? I’ll never know now.
Better without the yelling
I’m working on the barriers at the junction station. Today the Station Master has told me to try not to let anyone in without a valid ticket. So when I’m confronted by a woman waving a twenty dollar note and screaming that she can’t get the ticket machine to work and that she has to pick up her preps, I tell her to go to the ticket window. The Station Master talks her through putting money on her card. All the time she yells at him about how she doesn't need this and how we don’t care about her children or that she’s going to miss her train. Meanwhile the little girl in the fairy dress trotting at her heels is getting frightened and starting to sob. With a final cry of “My children don’t need this shit” and “Look our trains coming in!” She’s off through the barriers with the terrified little girl running after her. She successfully catches her train. I feel guilty for not letting her through earlier but I can’t help thinking the whole thing might have gone quicker without the shouting.
May 17, 2014
Diamante Hearts
A number of street people frequent my station. I think there’s a counselling service nearby. I’ve been very worried about one of my regulars, J. I like J because he is such a gentleman. He always says, “Hi how was your day?” in a polite pleasant manner, even when he’s so stoned his eyes don’t focus properly. He’s been chroming (paint sniffing) a lot lately, forever sitting around the station with a plastic bag full of paint shoved over his face. He even got so stoned he fell over in front of a group of primary school children from the outer suburbs and lay there till I went round and helped him up. He cuts himself on the arms and wanders round with blood all over his sleeves. Apparently this is all down to the fact that he’s argued with his girlfriend and she’s “gone away to the farm” without him. But this week he was back, a little stoned, it’s true, but not a plastic bag in sight. “Did you enjoy your Easter?” he asks and he tells me he had pizza and Easter eggs at the pub with his girlfriend so all must be well again. He’s wearing a pair of dark glasses with a diamante heart picked out at the bottom of the right hand lens.
The things people tell you...
When you’re standing at a station.
One of my regulars told me that her car was hit by a tram when she was trying to get to her wedding.
“There I was seven months pregnant in my wedding dress trying standing in the middle of the tram tracks on Swan Street trying to flag down a cab" she tells me.
Another tells me she likes to dress up in costumes. Then she adds “My friend likes to come round and watch me wash the dishes in my French maids outfit.”
Could it be that life IS like it is in the movies after all? That people really do do these kinds of things
Meanwhile autumn moves on and the tree in my garden covers my back lawn with a carpet of tiny golden leaves.
One of my regulars told me that her car was hit by a tram when she was trying to get to her wedding.
“There I was seven months pregnant in my wedding dress trying standing in the middle of the tram tracks on Swan Street trying to flag down a cab" she tells me.
Another tells me she likes to dress up in costumes. Then she adds “My friend likes to come round and watch me wash the dishes in my French maids outfit.”
Could it be that life IS like it is in the movies after all? That people really do do these kinds of things
Meanwhile autumn moves on and the tree in my garden covers my back lawn with a carpet of tiny golden leaves.
March 21, 2014
The noisy mynahs take on the bread loaf
Wednesday was one of those beautiful autumn days Melbourne specializes in. Sunny with a slight chill in the air that sparkles on the skin like cool champagne sparkles on the tongue. In the Sunflower field by the railway lines, the three homeless men were sitting outside the tent having yarn in the sun. At my station the trees were bright with birdsong and the (Australian native) noisy mynahs were out in force, beating up impertinent top knot pigeons and squabbling over squashed jelly snakes. Someone had thrown a loaf of bread still in its plastic bag onto the tracks and a neat circle of four mynahs had formed around it As I watched, the one standing in the middle leaned over and with the flourish of someone instructing a class, pulled a crust out of a hole in the bag.
Critters crit group
Put my first chapter up on the critters web site and felt extremely down all week because only one person did a crit. But what do you know? Everybody puts their crits up at the last minute (just like me, der!) so now I have seven sets of useful feedback and one offer to read the whole thing. Who would have thought criticism could make you feel so loved?
If you are interested in on line critiquing
the site is www.critters.org
and it's open to everyone
If you are interested in on line critiquing
the site is www.critters.org
and it's open to everyone
February 11, 2014
Boys on bikes
The school kids are back at my station too, the girl who walks a kilometre from school trailing her cello on wheels, the kids who climb over the fence at the other end of the platform to save the walk to the gates and the boy who always rides into the station and down the platform.
He's a charming young chap and I gave up telling him not to ride on the platform months ago. It was pointless. He just smiles and waves or stops for a chat and rides on. Just don't run anyone over I yell after him. As a disciplinarian, I am a marshmallow.
He's a charming young chap and I gave up telling him not to ride on the platform months ago. It was pointless. He just smiles and waves or stops for a chat and rides on. Just don't run anyone over I yell after him. As a disciplinarian, I am a marshmallow.
