Marita and I spent some time on Sunday attempting to demolish her house. Well, a little bit of it. Sometime in the last century when tastes in building took a turn for the worse, someone ripped out most of the fireplace in her room, bricking it up and replacing what I assume was a lovely old cast-iron fireplace with a blank wooden panel, with the mantelpiece above it. What they were thinking of, I don’t know.

The revamp plan was to take the mantelpiece off, remove the panel, clear out the bricks and whatever else was behind it, and install a cast-iron fireplace once again, even if not to be used for a fire (which would have been a little tricky without risking some smoke inhalation, since the chimney is no longer intact).

Masks and goggles were donned, for protection from dust. A small but fearsome array of tools was prepared, and the immediate area cleared. It felt a little like an archeological dig. “What if we find a dead body behind it?” asked Marita.

Judging from the amount of effort to merely remove the first brick, I may not be cut out for renovating. It felt like a good half hour to get it out (okay so maybe it was only 10 minutes, I don’t know, I wasn’t watching the clock). Whacking it with the hammer and chisel, trying to wedge it out with the crowbar. My goggles fogged up and I could feel sweat under my mask.

Eventually the brick came out, and we discovered that not only was there an entire second row of bricks behind it, but that the brickwork above it which should have remained in place was looking entirely dodgy, and the whole structure was starting to (conceptually at least) resemble a house of cards, as if one were toyingly nudging one of the lower cards.

At that point some rethinking on the whole mini-project was done. It would seem that for now, those bricks are to remain in place.

Bill Bryson: A Short History of Nearly Everything. Almost more of a history of scientists than a history of science. As all of Bryson’s books are, I found this highly amusing, as one reads of the discoveries we humans have made over the centuries, seemingly more often by mistake than with any intent. I must confess I found it a little heavy-going about three-quarters of the way through (not a unique experience when I read his books), but it picked up again towards the end. Okay I skipped the extensive endnotes and bibliography. All in all, a great read, thoroughly recommended.

Next, I embark on Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon.

Here is my pantry.

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• As usual, move your mouse over the picture for descriptions of various bits (note Firefox may abbreviate. Apparently you can fix it with this extension if you turn multi-line tooltips on.)
• Past photos in this series
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In The Cut. Unrecognisable Meg Ryan. Bleak, so bleak. From the Monster’s Ball school of bleak. Was there even a single lighthearted moment in it? If so I’ve forgotten it. I mean, Mystic River wasn’t a cheerful film, but managed not to be as depressing as this one. Interesting enough plot I suppose, but did I mention how bleak it was?

Shrek 2. Unavoidable ads before movie on the DVD were annoying. Seemed to take a while to get going (or maybe a while for me to get into it). By the end though, I was frequently laughing. Not as good as the first one, but enjoyable.

My train to work leaving a minute early. Without me on it.

A demonstration that I can only assume was pro-life (it wasn’t overly clear), as it consisted of people wheeling a mock baby in isolation thingy up Collins St, escorted by a police car, along with safety-vested money collectors. Hmmm.

Strolling down Collins St, holding hands, none other than Tony and Rae. Tony looking like he was possessed, with demonic-looking contact lenses in, his glasses apparently being repaired today. They were going to look at the Christmas windows, then maybe catch a tram down to St Kilda, stroll around, eat lunch, cake, drink beers while spending a lazy day off work. Bastards.

An email come through to tell me a couple of people I’ve known for years are finally getting hitched next week. Congrats C & C.

That’s all so far. But hey, the night is young.

After my last batch of dreams, Nat posted an analysis of them, which I found very interesting, though it seemed to indicate a lot of negativity, which I don’t really feel is in my life right now.

But anyway there was another suite of dreams a few nights ago, as disjointed as ever, but not a bus or a fire in sight this time…

I was in an office, talking to someone called Ashad. On the noticeboard were pictures of my old high school (Melbourne High) being demolished and rebuilt to the original plans. Ashad said it was actually cheaper to rebuild it than to simply clean it, as cleaning involved taking out each brick one at a time and removing the dirt, then replacing it.

(Possible influences: announcement last week that a teacher I knew at another school has been appointed as the new principal to Melbourne High.)

I rode my bike home from Marita’s. (Unlikely, it’s quite a hike.) Lots of St Kilda footy fans were walking in the streets. I got to my street, but couldn’t find my house — it was like it had been replaced by other houses.

(Possible influences: the plumber who recently suggested it was a no-brainer than the owner of my house could demolish and build units on the land.)

Watching TV, Tony Stamp and other actors from The Bill appeared on an advert for an expanding truncheon (like they use on the show) for sale for Christmas.

(Possible influences: I rarely watch the show anymore, but the night before, I had seen a little bit of it, including a scene with two characters and their expanding truncheons.)

Am I a has-been before I’ve even been a been?

One of the kids at the school: “You used to be on TV!”

Ahem. Yeah kid. Once or twice.

…

Doctor Who producer Phil Collinson on the return of (and apparent changes to) the Daleks:

“If ever you’ve laughed at them, prepare to have the smile frozen on your face…”

(SFX via Outpost Gallifrey)

Yesterday I took the day off to organise my taxes. Apart from the long trip down to see the accountant (out in the wilds of suburbia), it was also worthy of a day off because of the time required to find all the little bits of paper involved. Having found them all, it slowly dawned on me that I’d made a massive mistake on the monthly ATO forms I’d been sending in (yeah that’s the kind of stuff you’re lumbered with when you have a business, even if it’s just a shelf-company for contracting through).

Fortunately my very jovial accountant just chuckled at my stuff-up and said he’d fix it all up for me. And I promised to fill them in correctly this year.