hard rubbish

As the title of this post suggests, it’s hard rubbish time around my house at the moment; a special time that comes but twice a year.

I’m quite fond of the hard rubbish period; there seems to be some sort of moral lesson in it about the value of thrift and the pointlessness of over-consumption. Or something.

I’m not one of your avid hard rubbish-scavengers, but I confess to having a peak as I went past this afternoon. All the good stuff seems to have been taken: all that’s left is fragments of dangerous looking antique electrical equipment and deeply disturbing discarded mattresses.

Oh well, 6 months to go ’till next time.

Cricket
I don’t care how many 36 degree October days we have: the season officially changes when test match cricket starts.

I’m not much of a fan of the game itself. It seems to involve about 4 and a half days of standing around in a field doing not much, followed by 2 minutes of abject terror as some great geezer chucks a hard missile at you at a hundred miles an hour.

The TV commentary manages to convey the 4.5 days of mind-numbing tedium quite well, but hasn’t really managed the excitement. Still, there is something soothing about the sounds of leather on Richie Benaud, or whatever it is they say.

Running
I was up with the birds this fine morning. Actually it wasn’t fine, it was considerably foggy.

I love the fog, I love the feeling of it on my skin and the eerie atmosphere. It’s also good to run in; being cool and almost completely without wind.

As I said, I started in fog, slipped down to the Dandenong Creek trail and then zoomed along to Kooma Park.

For a brief moment, when the freeway ahead of me and the power lines behind me both managed to be hidden from sight, it all seemed rather peaceful, especially when a kangaroo jumped out on the path in front of me.

I don’t know how far the roo went today, but I managed 22k. Quite comfortable, quite enjoyable.