House-Proud

Well it's been five weeks since Steven introduced me, so it's probably time for me to start contributing. We settled on our house a week ago, and today's the first day that I find myself without some house-purchase-related errand to run. It's nice. You know, when my partner and I got married three years ago, everybody told us that there would be some huge mental difference afterwards (despite the fact that we'd already been living together for years). There wasn't. It was just more of the same. That's pretty much what I expected from the house-buying process too. After all, we've been living in Chippendale for four years, and we literally only moved next door to our old flat. Somehow, though, everything is different. I've met more neighbours in the past two weeks than I had in the previous two years. I find myself saying hello to strangers on the sidewalk. (I just introduced myself to our mailman.) I've started thinking of the Duck & Swan as my local (instead of just another pub). I'm excited to go see the ducks. I notice items in the news that might impact our neighbourhood. And most amusingly, I have suddenly turned into a domestic goddess. I went from being someone who actively disliked housework... to someone who really cares about the environment they live in. On the day my in-laws first came to see the place, I happily confirmed that I'd swept the pavement in preparation. "Why, aren't you house-proud!" my mother-in-law exclaimed. I guess I am.

Fat and Fluffy Moorhen babies

Victoria Park is the gem of Chippendale with its lawns, trees, gym, and pool. But it’s the duck pond that’s making us walk through the park every day. Instead of walking to Broadway along City Road or Shepherd Street we do a prayer and sprint across City Road at Myrtle Street and wander through the park.
This morning on my way to visit the Council I wanted to see how the Dusky Moorhen chicks are doing. Until now the chicks have stayed pretty close to mum and dad so it was a bit of a surprise to see one fat bundle of black fluff heading towards me intent on breakfast. And it was already smart enough to give me the cold shoulder when I didn’t feed it, but dumb enough not to understand we are not meant to feed the birds.
I am half way between exasperated and deciding to turn criminal: “Chippendale Resident Arrested for Feeding Ducks!” Is there something that is acceptable to sprinkle?

If you haven’t walked through Victoria Park recently now is the time to do it. The water lilies are out and looking sensational, the ducks are bobbing heads, swans making love hearts when they kiss and the Moorhen babies are learning to paint their foreheads red like their parents.

The hassle-free vasectomy

One of my handier personality traits is that I'm an incurable optimist. And so it's not surprising I went into my vasectomy expecting it to be a cakewalk.

Yes, some people have had painful experiences, and even the lighthearted stories that I read made it seem like a great journey — but in the end it was no big deal at all.

Perhaps it was the great skill and care of my urologist or maybe it was the unobtrusive nature of the procedure, but in the end it really was a matter of walk in, lie down, wake up, and it's done.

A day after the operation, I'm using nothing more than paracetamol for the pain, and I'm looking forward to, hopefully, welcoming Kevin07 this evening with a few glasses of champagne.

So fellas, if you and your vastly better halves have put your days of reproduction behind you, I thoroughly recommend the snip. After all, it's gotta be easier than giving birth.

More about that cycle hire plan...

...is in the SMH. Wonder what they're gonna do about helmets?

Taxis: a first time for everything

The other day, for the first time in my life, I found myself agreeing with Miranda Divine.

It's ridiculous that it costs $320,000 to get a taxi license. That's how we should be tolling industries that cause social harm, not social benefit.

And the uniform 3pm change-over is a nightmare.

In my view, a taxi license should cost no more than what the tax payer spends on training and testing drivers and regulating the sector. In return for receiving a low-cost license, the taxi driver should have social obligations, such as the duty to pick up any passenger regardless of their destination. And the entire industry should create one central booking system that sends the job to any taxi from any network as long as it's close to the passenger.

First week with the birthday bass

I've been practicing riffs from Black Night, The Lovecats, Walking On The Moon and Add It Up. Having a ball.

Good ol' SMH, at it again...

The Sydney Morning Herald is having another crack at convincing our governments of the freakin' obvious — that our city should be designed for its residents, not their cars.

There have been a few campaigns like this one from the SMH in the past, and none have changed government policy. What does it take, I wonder, to turn this into what John Howard would call "a barbeque stopper"? I should put on my PR hat, and ponder that one...

...actually, I know the answer: $4 per litre petrol prices and then some, coming to a pump near you.

Sands of Time. Council Archives.

Kimberley made a comment about a recent post advising the Sydney City councils Archives resources.

Well, I shuffled in there the other day to research some DA’s from old owners of this house and afterwards asked about the history bizzo.

Sands is like a huge of telephone book, except there wasn’t any phones in 1858 in Sydney, even precious few when it stoped being published in the 1930’s. Sands is a yearly directory by profession, by name, and by street and address. Just the sort of information that is all kept secret theses days… or splattered across Google.

When researching your house in your street many people will tell you that you have stuff all chance as the street numbering system has changed too many times. Don’t listen to them! Just grab the index and work back in time.

I have a hand written survey of my house from 1900 so I knew the house number was correct then, so I just kept going back a decade at a time. Fortunately the same person owned my house from when I started looking back to when the place was built. So I found that Rose Street has had 3 number changes: 1895 the number system is same as today; 1885 theres less number; and 1875 the place is pretty damn vacant, a few years on and the numbering has started from the Cleveland Street end. Anyway, your street may be similar or different, who cares, but you can easily see it by finding a resident who didn’t move. In those days they didn’t move much so its all pretty easy. Not only that by Sands gives the cross streets that nicely reference the numbers!

OK, so what did I find out about my house? 1875 Vacant land; 1876 5 houses in course of erection; 1877 Thomas Hawkins, Grocer is in, settled and going to hang around for ages. So our place was built 1876 with no apparent re-builds. Not total re-builds anyway, just a myriad of touch-ups over 130 years…

By the way, when you are looking before 1890 Chippendale isn’t listed. The streets are but the suburb name aint there. In 1895 Chippendale is in brackets. So it you find Rose Street, for example, its Chippendale unless it says otherwise.

Mark

Christmas in the city...

...now has its own website.

Makes a nice change from the nervous embarrassment about Christmas which the City of Sydney was exhibiting a few years ago.

CUB community consultation workshop

Details are on the REDWatch website.

The mysterious vanishing urban renewal area

REDWatch provides us with a South Sydney Herald article about the mysterious vanishing urban renewal area in Chippendale.

Email version now working again

Please subscribe to the email version of Life in Chippendale if that's how you'd like to receive it.

Birthday bass

A big thank you to my beloveds for buying me a bass for my birthday.

It's been two decades since I wrapped my fingers around four fat strings, and yet I found it came back to me instantly.

Next stops: buy myself some sheet music, and find a few locals who are interested in the occasional jam session.

Cycle hire

The City of Sydney is investigating.

Walk against warming

This Sunday.

Bring on the small bars

At this stage, it looks like Clover won.

The Newtown festival...

...is on next weekend.

Big plans for the Barney's site

You can read the SMH's take here, but by rights the plans should be on public display at the Barney's website.

More nice photos of the area...

...including those gorgeous Strickland Flats. Click here.

Lucky? Or Happy?

Ever noticed the removalists in the newspaper classifieds? AA Removals; AAA Removals; AAAAAA Removals? Which one do you select? The Glebe rag had one “AAA Lucky Removals” with four 8’s in the phone number. I was onto it like a flash. It had to be staffed by Chinese migrants who’ve spent the families life savings getting to Australia. I’ve been to China and I know how hard people work there. The rate of $60 per hour for 2 men and a 4 tonne truck neatly doesn’t dovetail with other companies from $60 which means a ute or a 2 tonner, probably with 2 pommy backpackers who couldn’t work in an iron lung but scratch the furniture and steal your beer while its warm. Nicolle wasn’t as confident and wanted AAA Happy Removals, and I did have misgivings when I rang to confirm Lucky and they couldn’t find the booking.

AAA Lucky Removals arrived precisely at the duly appointed 8am in a jalopy out of Hollywood that would make an RTA Inspector grin with perverse delight, and slid into a choice spot out front with a pleasant No Stopping sign. Being Bondi Beach there was already a fleet of Rangers circling hapless early morning joggers cars, and those left after a big night out by drunks doing the right thing (that’s an article in itself). Whilst watching the ticket writers moving slowly up the road towards us, Nicolle and I started loading AAA Lucky’s truck while (sounded like) Bee and Charlie tried to keep up with the clients from hell. Theres no smoko in pay-by-the-hour with us!
Just before Evil descended we pounced on a vacating car park and continued loading whilst the heavens opened up and farmers rushed about dancing.
Arriving Chippendale was another delicate shaded red No Stopping sign, and, believe my luck, 2 parking rangers wandering straight towards us! Here be the difference in the rule of law between the savages on Bondi’s council and the Gentlemen of Chippendale, they said: “yeah, sure, no worries, don’t get too wet.”

So we’ve moved, we’re in, we’re happy and lucky. What more can we ask?


Mark

Nice tale of house-hunting in Chippo

Click here.

The day I met our local member

Get the goss here.