Woollahrite

September 15 and 16 – After a long period of homelessness and joblessness the semblance of a normal life is returning – first viewing of the inside of the new residence (still unnamed) that will be shared with a small but doughty gentleman in the area that may or may not be too sophisticated for the likes of me.  Size and shape seems to be adequate for my needs (but was pipped at the post for possession of the larger room), local café seems to be okay (coffee wasn’t very hot but was nice) and local hills shouldn’t be too strenuous (not sure how long the toe clip saga will be able to last if they are).  After unloading what I had made the journey back to the north side via Cheeky where I took possession of some spare bike parts (decent set of wheels, cranks and bottom bracket that were not needed by the bicycle’s original purchaser).  Tried to replicate the magic of La Magica but just don’t have the dexterity.  A celebration of my return to God’s Country was to be had in the Hills but lack of coordination meant that if Japanese were to be consumed a wait of several hours would have to be endured despite the ‘fluence of some members of our party (if somebody was prepared to put out we may have had better results) but that didn’t mean sizeable amounts of expensive sake couldn’t be consumed while we waited for several hours to eat Italian (which was good but not Berlin good) and feel guilty for tempting individuals away from tobacco abstinence.  
A new variation on the pancake saga had relative success (buttermilk is an excellent variation on the theme but I've got to be careful when adding frozen berries to the mixture as despite the flavoursome enhancements they prevent the tops of the cakes from solidifying prior to flipping which can cause a slight mess which somebody else has to clean up).  Ventured back to Surry Hills to retrieve the vehicle which prompted praising for my responsibility in not drinking and driving from a local resident and an overall feeling of well being for my foresightedness.  Afternoon was strangely stressful as we ventured down the Crows Nest Sleeping Alley in search of a new bed – the fact that I spent half the afternoon lying down testing out various incarnations of inner spring, latex core and visco flex mattresses meant I should have been relaxed and free of worries but I wasn’t.  A hefty investment is never good for the soul (especially my soul) and after trying out many scores of them at the end of the day I had even less of an idea as to what I wanted than when I started.  This was not helped by the shenanigans of the professional bed salesman I encountered (Ah, so you’re buying a mattress first then a bed?  You, sir, are doing it the right way around ... You must be an expert on buying beds!; I’ve been selling beds for 34 years and nobody else in the business offers a comfort return guarantee like me!; this mattress has won the LGA Environmental Award!  What’s LGA?  It’s ... Um, it’s ... <<hitting the Google>> it’s ... In Dutch, but it’s a very good thing ...) A bit of an internet search afterwards made me thankful that I wasn’t tricked into paying exorbitant retail prices but the extra choices on top of the ones I’d seen throughout the day put me in an even worse state of mind.  Maybe sleeping on it will help (huh?  Huh?  I can hear crickets).