It was a gloomy (but mild) afternoon in Melbourne. It felt a little ominous, like the calm before the storm, but so far no rain has fallen. As I was walking home, the sun weakly and briefly broke through the clouds before disappearing again.
As I was crossing Morell Bridge, a cheeky cockatoo landed on top of one of the lamps and started squawking loudly, seemingly at a woman who was standing nearby. It was looking down at her and really letting rip. Maybe it wanted a cracker? She ignored it, but I took a photo.
In between squawks
Speaking of Morell Bridge, I must remember to tune into ABC1 at 8.30 on Sunday night to watch The Mystery of a Hansom Cab because some of it was filmed near Morell Bridge. The telemovie is based on the 1886 novel of the same name, which was a best-selling murder mystery set in Melbourne. (I haven't read it.)
I forgot to mention something funny Luke said to me the other night. I haven't laughed so much in ages. In fact, I didn't just laugh; I guffawed.
Luke (snuggling up to me): You know what you smell like?
Me: No, what?
Luke: A cricket bat.
Me: Bahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaha etc.
(For the record, what he could smell was rose hip oil, not linseed oil, which cricketers used to use (and possibly still use) to condition their bats.)
Here's a little something for the word nerds among you.