Here is my pantry.

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Here is my TV, and assorted other home entertainment paraphenalia.

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Here is my bed. Yes, this shot was staged.

Two year-old queen size bed. The bedlinen is about the same age, and most would probably say the doona cover is a pretty typical blokey choice. Second pillow generally thrown off the bed when sleeping, more used for propping-up to read the paper on the weekends.

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On a related note, I had four mini-dreamlets last night:

• The Lombard Paper factory fire became known in the media as the “Susannah Bowen Fire” — not because my sister was involved, but some other person with the same name had invented something that was inside the factory.
• Then I was reading the newspaper article about the fire in a service station. I was on a long drive on my own, and had stopped for some breakfast, but I didn’t understand how the cafeteria system worked. Another guy showed me: you had to get a bowl from the pile, choose and pay for your breakfast cereal at the counter. He then did so with me, also paying the shopkeeper with a $20 note. I got my change back right, but then I realised the guy had done some trick with both our $20 notes, and conned the shopkeeper into giving him more money than he started with, something like in the opening scenes of “Nine Queens.”
• Then I was on the 246 bus with Tony, going from Elsternwick towards Elwood. The bus turned off Nepean Highway into Glenhuntly Road, right over onto the wrong side of the road. It then corrected itself, but as we went on, lots of cars were coming at us on the wrong side of the road. We and a couple of other passengers went up to ask the driver what was going on, and he pointed to the other side of the road and said there was bad flooding.
• Finally, I was at Marita’s house, early on a weekday morning. I suddenly noticed a lot of smell from traffic pollution coming through the window. I pointed it out to Marita and Justine, but they said they couldn’t smell anything.

What all this means, I don’t know. I just find it interesting on the rare occasions that I do remember my dreams.

Here is my aging Sharp Microwave. It was old when purchased — about ten years ago from some ex-government equipment auction, I think. My friends Josh and Cathy have exactly the same microwave, which makes me double-take when I visit them. It is much more reliable than my Sharp VCR proved to be.

Naturally anything in the kitchen which doesn’t have a proper home in a cupboard or otherwise needs to be easily reached finds a home on top of it.

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Here is my washing machine.

I’m at DEFCON-3 with the washing machine actually. It’s been misbehaving the last few days, and I hope it’s not about to give up the ghost. Rather than the healthy whir and zoom of the spin cycle, it splutters and whirs without zooming. At least sometimes. Consequently it doesn’t dry a lot of the water out of the clothes. Not sure if it’s the same thing as last time (a kiddie sock stuck in the works) but I’ll do some fiddling over the extra long weekend (yup, taking Monday off).

Then I’ll give up and call the Hoover repair people.

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Here is my… morning hair.

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With many thanks to Tony and Rae for organising the competition, the barbecue and taking this photo… here is me taking the footy tipping prize, as Marita looks on (probably glad she’s shot of it, but disappointed it’s not going further away).

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• As usual, move your mouse over the picture for descriptions of various bits (note Firefox may abbreviate)
• Past photos in this series
• Notes on creating the image map/hot spots with text