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All’s peaceful, calm

3 brothers watching TV, doing homework

Or playing a game.

Add to the mix.

There’s an uproar, chaos, fights & cries.

The ingredient …


Just for fun,

He kicks the book you’re reading,

Turns off the TV, or the light.

Then hollers screeches “Murder!” at any riposte.

Pete the Provocateur!


* Peter – the 2nd youngest.

Speaking of “ingredients” this could be his recipe:

6 drops of essence of terror, 5 drops of sinister sauce, a tincture of tenderness (oops too much).

Milton the Monster was shown on TV up until about 1967. It wasn’t a favourite.

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He has a redhead’s complexion.

Forehead, slopes back from brow

Legends say, with steel plate inserted.

His barrel-chest forces arms to 45°

Exaggerated swing when walking.

Tree-trunk legs bowed to match.

He doesn’t seem fearsome but …

Steer clear anyway.

HIs name? I don’t know.

He is known as Bondi!

Why Bondi?




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I feel a rush, rustling.

Push the pedals … GO!

One hand steering,

The other twirling school satchel

Rotating like helicopter blades.

Almost fast enough for lift off.

It is either out-run them or ward them off.


Hitchcock’s Birds?

A couple of black & white bombers

Magpies in spring … that’s enough.

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Roger loves to confound

With puzzles, enigmas, curiosities & paradoxes.

The aim to extend, expand our thinking.

Some lessons need more direct approaches,

The teacher makes signposts for discovery …

And provides messages worth attention.

A favoured message from Roger

– I’m sure via Camden Nana –

Conveyed in a song he often sung.

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Home is where the caravan is …

Caravan park, Home,

Beach to East

River to North

Metal grey rocks of breakwater

Where fishermen (and us) perch patiently.

My favourite moment …

Love the ice being delivered

Ice delivery

Old truck stacked with big crystal blocks

Metal pincers dig and scar

Ice-man strong, fluid lifts,

Totes, then delivers.

Pincer grip slips, Ice slivers fly.

A better look at the ice pincers.

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The road with a spooky spot for me.

A road often travelled

Richmond Rd*

Heading to football games,

A picnic at Cattai,

Helping on the ice-cream run.

At a specific place every trip.

Sensing danger – I shiver, imagining:

We stop. Roger climbs the fence.
Into the bush to visit someone. 
Never to return.**

Fear irrational?

From where?



* I think this road is now called The Northern Rd. My memory has it as Richmond Rd running from Kingswood Station to Richmond.

** My thought was that Roger was going to visit his grandmother on his father’side.

I haven’t been past this spot often in the last few decades but each time I have that same sense of something lurking. It is not a fear, really – more like an uneasiness. There is no obvious reason for this, maybe I dreamt an incident and this looked like the place in the dream. I wish I knew.

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We have two cinemas.

On High St, near the fruit-shop*,

The Nepean Theatre.

Art Deco elegance,

Dress circle.

Nepean Theatre – Dress Circle foyer – probably 1940’s (photo: Sam Hood. held in State Library of NSW)

It’s “poshness” seems to amplify

The sound & the impact of rolling jaffas.

Louder, more fun.

On Station St, towards Penrith Station.

The Avon Theatre.

Ramshackle & casual.

Functional decor – not decorative.


* There are a few Short memories about the fruit shop – Short Memories 32 to 36. (the link goes to #32)

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We’re rigged up,

Nets, storage boards, pins, death bottles, cyanide.

Identification books.

All that is needed for the great hunt.

A family of lepidopterists.

Through all types of terrains, weather,

Geographies & ecologies.

On the hunt for rare & beautiful, colourful specimens.

Butterflies, moths – mainly.

Beetles, other insects.

Cowans, nets flailing.

Hunters, Collectors.


I have no idea why, but this song reminds me of our butterfly adventures.

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Dark figure.

Hunched over, shuffling,

Perpetually pushing

Big-wheeled barrow.


by Raymond de Berquelle. from Powerhouse Museum Collection

Sparks curiosity

About biography, family,

Life, connections,



What is in the trolley he pushes?

Day after day,

Year following year,

For decades.

Raises fear,

Of shadows, difference, disconnection, anger.

Pricks conscience, awareness, empathy.

Without eulogy, he disappears.


* Charles Pickett has written two sensitive pieces on this enduring figure in Sydney street-life history. They are located in Powerhouse Museum’s blog, Inside the Collection. He was known as The Trolley Man, his name: Josef Cindric.

His first article is called The Trolley Man immortalised. Much of this article deals with the fascination held by Sydney artist Richard Goodwin. One of his works is The Inhabitant.

The second article is called The Trolley Man Part 2. This one holds the history of Josef Cindric.

The image of The Trolley Man is by Raymond de Berquelle and is in the Powerhouse Museum Collection

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Like Roger is not “Dad”,

His father is not “Grandpa”, “Pop”, or …

Anything, except his name:


Left leg with boot raised 6 inches.

Shuffling, dealing euchre hands,

Made difficult by

Hands gnarled and bent with arthritis.

Weakened, twisted body holding

An alert, agile mind.

Fools not suffered, none here anyway.

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