This morning going into work on the train, suddenly: BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Gave most of us in the first carriage quite a jolt. Some of my fellow passengers looked rather worried about it… I’ve travelled by train a fair bit, so I knew it was just detonators on the track, placed there to warn workmen further up the line there’s a train coming; and to warn the driver to slow down.

Before I got on the train, I had of course walked to the station. A street sweeper was doing the rounds this morning. What the hell is the point of a street sweeper? Just to redistribute the leaves from being all over the street, to being in one neat pile at the end of the street? I don’t see the point.

More to the point, this one appeared to have spread the bits of a newspaper all over the street it was supposedly cleaning. T-bloody-riffic. Either they realised, or someone else tidied it up, since it was gone when I was coming home a few hours later.

The house next door, which this morning sold for - gulp - just a tad less than half a million dollars. (Picture nicked from the real estate agent’s site)

This morning the house next door was up for auction. I listened from my balcony. It’s a nice house, a lovely house in fact, on a very big block. I haven’t looked inside, but if you believe what the real estate agent claimed (and I heard no scoffing or shouts of outrage at blatant lies) then it’s quite nice inside too.

Eventually, I’d love to remove myself from the influence of my landlady, by buying my own place - and I’d love to buy in this neck of the woods. So I listened to the auction. That house went for four hundred and ninety-six thousand dollars. Hooooooly shit. Well I’d better get saving.

Tonight I was pondering if I should cook or just go get a pizza. Technology being what it is, I looked on ICQ and the only person online to ask was Owen in London. He reckoned pizza, which was a good answer, so that’s what I did.

Gotta love technology.

It’s been a busy week for me. I can’t think of a great deal that’s overly interesting to write about - just a couple of notable incidents.

On Wednesday evening I was driving home. Imagine my surprise when, on the opposite side of the highway, I see an electric wheelchair rolling down the road, with cars following close behind it. The wheelchair was in the right hand turning lane, but when that lane ended, the guy in it looked around and moved into the next lane over and went on down the highway.

That’s not a good thing to do in peak hour traffic. Well, not if you value your life, anyway. This guy obviously either didn’t, or his judgement in such matters was severely impaired.

So when I got a chance, I pulled over and called the cops. I could tell the operator didn’t seem to quite grasp the situation, until she said "oh, he’s on the actual road?" "Yes!" After that I drove on. I don’t know what, if anything, they did about it, but since then I haven’t read in the newspaper about any bizarre wheelchair accidents on the Nepean Highway, so I’m hoping the guy eventually got off the road intact.

Then on Friday night I was having dinner in Acland Street when across the street, one tribe of teenagers apparently bumped into another tribe of teenagers. A scuffle broke out, someone ended up on the ground, and for a few tense moments it looked like it would break into a full blown fight. One kid picked up a chair and held it up, and us al frescoers watched intently to see what would happen.

Then some of the more sensible among them pulled the others back, and after a few mean looks and a threat or two, both groups went on their way. Someone from the cafe the chair had come from came out and put it and its chairy colleagues away, and we all went back to our  meals.