Derby!

So, I went to watch a roller derby match on the weekend.

I loved it.

Not in the "I have to join a roller derby team right this minute!" kind of way, but in the "hey, this sport is a bucket of fun to watch and I should watch it more often!" kind of way.

Now, it is entirely possible that I can discover a new sport without completely obsessing about it for the next few months but, you know, my record isn't good.

Fair warning, and all.

Two plans

My problem is that I have two plans (possibly three).  They cannot occur at the same time in the same universe.  I can't decide between the two of them, and spend most of my days favouring one or the other, but never fully settling on either of them.


Plan Number 1:  Buy an investment property on the Sunshine Coast

I would particularly like a townhouse or something, but with my budget I'll settle for a unit.  The idea is to rent it out while I'm not living/working in the area, and use the rent to help pay off the mortgage while I use the fact that it's an investment property to get any repairs and maintenance as a tax write-off.

Eventually, I'd be looking to get a job in the area and move down into the place I already have while I think about whether or not I want to trade up for a real house or something.

Good plan, eh?


Plan Number 2:  Buy a house in Brownsville and fix it up

With my budget, I'd have to buy a fixer-upper, but still - you can get a whole house in the 'Ville for less than it would cost to buy a unit on the Sunshine Coast.

I'd make it presentable, then rent out the rooms to international students (they're usually only here for 6 months to a year, so if we don't get along all that well I don't have to wait long before they leave).  The rent from the students would to towards paying off the mortgage and I'll probably end up paying that off much more quickly than I would a more expensive unit down south.

Good plan, eh?


The trouble with Plan Number 1

It's, like, totally far away.  I wouldn't be able to keep as good an eye on the place as I would if I actually lived there, and I'd have to ask my family in the region if they could take care of it for me, which is a bit burdensome for them.

Plus, I wouldn't be able to live it it for some time.  It would technically be my "first home", so I'd never qualify for any of the "first home buyers" grants or things in the future, but you don't qualify for them anyway if you don't live in the place - they don't count for investment properties.

I'd be forever putting myself out of contention for any "first home" related stuff, and I wouldn't even get the joy of living in my first home.

So, not the best plan.


The trouble with Plan Number 2

While it would be really nice to stop living with my family for a while (I never intended to stay so long when I came back from Tasmania), it does seem a bit silly to have the three of us each living on our own.

At the moment, I'm the "back up" for my mother and uncle.  If either of them need someone to take care of things while they're away or otherwise occupied, I'm there to do it.  If I get my own place, that will just make multiple houses to worry about during holidays and such.

Plus, I'd be pouring money into a fixer-upper that I could be saving up towards a bigger deposit on a better property later.

And I want to move down south eventually, anyway.  Staying in the 'Ville isn't my long-term plan, and I want to shift everyone down to the South-East Corner so they can be closer to the rest of their brothers and sisters.

So, not the best plan.


So, what's Plan Number 3?

To wait a bit, save up some more money for a deposit and see what everything looks like a year from now.


The trouble with Plan Number 3

"Waiting" has a strange habit of turning into "stagnating".  It's really easy to slide into "no plan at all".

Stupid big-wheeled bicycle

The more I ride my Brompton around, the more I'm convinced that all "normal" bicycles are just plain silly.

I rode one of my "normal" bikes to work today for the first time in ages as I felt the need to get some practice in on a 26-inch wheeled bike ahead of my cycling tour in New Zealand later in a few weeks time.

As always happens when I ride a "normal" bike after months of noodling around town on a Brompton, I spent the whole trip going through thoughts like this:

"Mannnn, these wheels are so huge, and they roll so slowly!"
"Why is this bike so heavy?"
"What the heck is this top-tube even for?  All it's doing is getting in the dang way..."

No, seriously, why do we have top-tubes on bikes?  And why are they so dang high?  Is there some benefit (outside of racing) over a step-through bike?

And why, is it more common to have lower top-tubes on women's bikes than men's?  Don't men have a greater reason to want to avoid coming into sudden contact with a metal pole positioned at groin level (should a sudden stop cause them to move forward)?

Honestly, the smart thing to do would be to make step-through models the norm for all bikes that don't need the extra stability for racing purposes.

Anyway, where was I?  Oh, yeah.  "Normal" bikes are weird.

The Worst House in the Street

I was looking at a house the other day that was in a location I’d never really paid much attention to before. 

Driving up the main street of the area has never filled me with much confidence, but once you get into the back streets the neighbourhood actually looks kind of nice.  And it’s about 1km from the River (nice) and about 1km from a botanical garden (nice) and close to shops (nice) and close to take-away food outlets (nice) and walking distance from the club I sometimes go to for dinner (nice) which has a lawn bowls club attached to it (noice)…

So, in other words, I really like the place.  I particularly liked the fact that it honestly looks like it would be easier for me to run to work from there than drive.  There’s a rather conveniently located footbridge which makes getting to work on foot about a 4km trip, while driving would be closer to 10km.

The house looks kind of nice, from the agency photos, and the outside doesn’t look bad, in passing.

And it’s in my price range, and it’s had new paintwork and carpets done “recently” (whatever that means, in real estate parlance), so I probably wouldn’t have to fix it up at all.

There’s only one problem:  The house right next door.

I think it’s a good sign when the house you are looking at is the worst house on the street.  Once it’s yours, you can do something about it.  You can make it the best house on the street.

However, if the house next-door or across the road is the worst house on the street, there’s nothing you can do about that – it’s practically part of your house, and you’re stuck with it.

I don’t know who lives there.  I’ve not seen them, and the yard doesn’t show any signs of couches or car parts on the lawn (it also doesn’t show any signs of watering, but that’s beside the point), and maybe they’re perfectly nice neighbours…

But they are the kind of people who don’t believe in nice curtains.  Standing in front of the house I noticed a tatty rag in one window, broken blinds at two others and part of a cardboard box acting as a sun-block for a fourth.

So the house needs a paint job and the yard needs a good water.  These things in themselves and on their own are not indicative of poor quality people.  A lack of decent window dressings, on the other hand, makes me instinctively distrust them.

Nice people have nice curtains.  They may not be expensive ones, they may not be backed or anything fancy – but they are intact and they look like they are meant to be in the window.

Do you know who has cardboard boxes and rags in their windows?  Unpleasant people.  That’s who.  The kind of people who don’t care if their kids our out doing unpleasant things like graffitiing the neighbourhood and doing burn-outs in cars of dubious road-worthiness.  The kinds of people who play unpleasant music at unpleasant volumes.  The kinds of people who have unpleasant conversations in unpleasant tones of voice that cannot be tuned out.

It’s the worst house on the street, and my inner snob is sure it must play home to the worst neighbours in the area.

The house on the other side looks nice at first glance, but it has besser blocks scattered around its garden at random intervals.  They aren’t even set upright so they look like they’re meant to be decorative.  What’s with that?

I don’t know if I’m going to go to the open house on the weekend.

This is a house!

No, seriously, this is a house:

Not a mothership.  Definitely a house.

Because, you know, houses look like this.

And so homely and relaxing...!

Not at all like an autopsy room in a mothership.

And, for the bargain price of 14 million dollars, it can be all yours!

Monorail, monorail, monorail!

Gfgbeach

My vision for the future of Townsville includes a monorail.

I want a whole elevated rail network,  but I specifically want monorail connecting the island to the mainland. Not one of those dorky circular monorails like Sydney used to have,  which only went in one direction so you wouldn't bother taking it if you wanted to go to the stop behind you.  This would be a point-to-point monorail that goes back and forth between Picnic Bay,  Cape Palaranda and some place near Kissing Point. There will probably be a couple of stops along the way, as well.

If possible, you'd set it back from the coast-line so that people on the monorail could get a good view of the beaches, but people on the beaches wouldn't have their eye-line ruined by a monorail.

Now, ideally, I'd like to see this meet up with a stop on the greater elevated rail network: a simple, but well designed light rail network crisscrossing the city at first-floor level. Stops would be located at every major shopping center and landmark (like the hospital and the university),with other stops at regular intervals along the way.

So, in theory, you could take the "sky tram" from the uni to the Nathan Street interchange (handily located adjacent to Stockland's roof-top car park), switch to the line that goes to Kissing  Point, and then catch the monorail to the island.

The great thing about an elevated network is it could be erected over existing roads, streets and drains. We have a lot of open space running throughout the city for storm drainage, and an elevated rail network will be able to take advantage of those spaces without impeding the flood waters too badly.

Part of my vision involves making sure that the monorail and the trams used for the network are pretty. I don't want some ugly, utilitarian looking eyesore spreading over the city.  Make the rail network a feature of the town, so that the tourist love looking at it as much as the locals love using it.

So, vote one, Sharon B, because a vote for Sharon is a vote for monorails.

The "Cup of Tea Cake"

I keep trying to make a Cup of Tea Cake.  I haven't quite got the balance right, but I feel I must persevere with this particular baked what-not as it's bound to become my go-to cake for all basic cakage needs - if only I can just get the proportions nailed.

The Cup of Tea Cake is know in my family as "Aunty Molly's Cup of Tea Cake", named after a great (and now deceased) aunt on my paternal grandfather's side.

I recently found similar recipes in a cook book, and felt compelled to start playing with it.

But it's such a finicky thing.  I know it can be done.  I know it can be nice.  One of my aunts makes it regularly.

It's so very, very simple... but like many "simple" recipes that house-wives of yesteryear used to make with their eyes closed, there's a knack to it.

The fact that I'm using gluten free flours (and experimenting with different brands) means I've got a lot more work to do before I find my knack.

The thing with a Cup of Tea Cake is that it only has one source of liquid - a cup of strong black tea.

You soak a cup of mixed fruit and half-a-cup of sugar overnight in a cup of strong black tea, and then you add a tea-spoon of bicarb or baking powder and some flour.  Then you pour it into a greased and lined/floured loaf tin/ring cake tin and cook it in a moderate oven for 45-60 minutes.

So, easy.  One night you chuck the fruit and tea into a bowl.  Then next night you through some flour into the mix and put it in a pan.  Voilà:  Cake.

I've never quite been able to get the mix right, though.

Getting the amount of flour just right has proven to be my main challenge.  The recipe my aunt dictated to my mother over the phone involves two cups of flour.  The recipes I've found in books ask for one.  I suspect with my gluten free flours, 1.5 is probably closer to the mark.

And I also suspect (although I've only recently had this thought) that it might be vitally important to use the exact same cup for all measurements.  At first I was being a bit overzealous with the amount of dried fruit, and just pouring in the better part of a packet rather than measuring it out.

As you would expect from a cake that doesn't have any milk, eggs or butter in it (perfect for vegans!), it's naturally a bit dry and need some "spread" to make it just right, but the excessive dried fruit was actually making it gluggy.  So, keep it to a cup.

There's another version that replaces the tea with black coffee and the mixed fruit with chopped dried dates.  I've had a bit more success with that one, but I suspect that's the dates invoking some sort of magic.

I'm going to keep trying it.  One day I'll get the knack, and then I'll have a nice, easy, lazy cake thing.

UPDATE, 2/4/2015:

For my money, the best combination is two cups of dried fruit soaked overnight in one cup of strong black tea, then mix in one cup of flour.  The 1-1 ratio of tea and flour works really well after soaking into two cups of dried fruit overnight.

Brisbane CityCycle Sucks

So, I'm visiting Brisbane at the moment, constantly walking past racks of CityCycle bicycles that are there for the taking...

... just not if you're only in town for the day and have no intention of signing up to a system that's barely user friendly for long-term residents.

The whole Go Card thing for public transport is already terribly unfriendly for visitors, why is taking a bike even more user unfriendly?

There are just too many steps involved, it's unnecessarily complicated, and if you happened to have a Go Card on you it can be used on the bike system - but only if you sign up for a 3 month subscription that (as a visitor for the day) you will *never* use.

I have a Go Card in my hand.  I have a strong desire to use this service that is in front of me.  Why is The City standing in my way?

I sometimes think Brisbane doesn't want you to visit.  Either live here and get with the programme, or stay out.