The road to the doctor

The morning was overcast but dry. The rest of the day has been getting wetter until by the time I drove north after finishing at the office, it was constant rain and the (?equinoctial) winds building in strength.

On my run this morning I thought I had the photo I wanted. The Man in the Hat was sitting at a table outside the Bambina Cafe with his book, and without his hat. As I prepared the camera, the waitress brought his long black (an espresso with extra water). I hurried my shot to include her; clearly I didn't hold the camera still, to the extent that the photo is blurred. He is reading Shantaram, and recommended it as an excellent story.

I chose to blip this piece of street art instead. The wall is the end wall of a row of shops on Jervois Road, on the corner with Albany Road. The shop behind the wall is the greengrocer we used to frequent when we had our home in the next street towards the city. To the right is the Herne Bay Medical Centre, which houses my GP.

Most of the day, I would not be able to get the full mural, as there are cars parked in front ; just not at 0630.

Last night, S and I went out for a birthday dinner with her brothers (the older brother was the birthday boy), and son of the younger brother who had travelled from Melbourne with his dad to visit S' mother, and join us in the celebration. S had in mind where she wanted to go, only to find that they were fully booked. Birthday brother suggested a French cuisine restaurant in the central city. She found that there is another one in Kingsland, a "city fringe" village adjacent to where we stay. They could take us, and we headed over.

Shortly after we arrived, the floor show came. French Toast. One man on double bass; one man on piano accordion; and a woman singer. None of them was young (euphemism!!). They played and sang a 'French song book', many of the items known to us. We were really enjoying it.

Then I had a thought. During a pause, I went up to the band and said that one of our party was having a birthday. They sang a French song in honour, and then sang Happy Birthday for him. He has promised to get back at me.

Later, the singer invited birthday brother P to dance with her. It was the most fun that any of us has had in a long time. I repaid the band with a drink each, and we went home knowing that we had had a good time with people we care about.