Eighteen Inches Between Studs

We were on our daily walk when we met an octogenarian, whom we had not seen for quite some time. During the conversation that ensued, she made mention of the two houses that were being built near to her own abode and enlightened us that the respective occupants-to-be were most dissatisfied in the standard of their construction.

She went on to outline of how some years prior to that she, herself, had employed two builders to install some new editions to her existing bathroom, only to be told by the pair that they would have to remove all of the tiles from its walls in order to locate its studs.

However, it was then that she produced her old rule of eighteen inches and rightly assured them that each stud was that length apart when measured from a specified corner of the room.

Upon hearing this, I couldn’t help but quip, “It really is an honour to meet a woman who knows exactly where her studs are!”.

While the elderly lady remained straight-faced, an unsuspecting Tiki, laughed heartily.

Somewhat Disappointing: Tuesday, 17th May, 1977

We searched in Myer, Grace Bros. and Sydney Wide before we bought a ‘Cadiz’ suite for our bedroom, from Col Buchan Discounts on the Kingsway, in Miranda. It is of a dark colour and cost us eight hundred and ninety-eight dollars. We have arranged to have it delivered after our new carpet is laid. We walked home in a jovial mood, in spite of a heavy overcast that threatened to drench us.

Tiki watched the film, “Tarzan And The Valley Of Gold”, from 1965, which features Mike Henry, as Tarzan, and Nancy Kovack. Cliff Richard was supposed to appear on “The Mike Walsh Show”, but cancelled his appearance. Jade Hurley stood in for him at the last minute and performed a medley of Roy Orbison’s hits.

This afternoon we set out for the city to attend Cliff Richard’s concert. It began at half past six in the Regent Theatre, in George Street near to the south-west corner of its intersection with Bathurst Street.

A young woman, with long blonde hair, screamed five ‘songs’, and, after an interval of fifteen minutes, Cliff appeared before the mostly young audience. Dressed in black trousers, a black sequined T-shirt, a white coat and shoes he began by singing his first hit, “Move It”, which he originally recorded in 1958.

Unfortunately, for us, he then deviated towards performing up-tempo new songs, thereby getting right away from the seventy or so hits already under his belt in his native Britain. I was personally disappointed that he did not perform more ballads although he did sing what he said was his favourite song, “Miss You Nights”, which was released last year.

Cliff was supported by a band of five or six members, a pianist and two vocalists. Everyone on stage was male. Terry Britten, who along with The Little River Band’s Glenn Shorrock, was a member of the Australian group, The Twilights, in the mid-to-late 1960s, was present. He wrote Cliff’s hit of last year, “Devil Woman”, which has really opened doors for the singer in the United States after nearly two decades of endeavour.

In fact, “Devil Woman” was the last song of the evening, apart from a solitary number, performed as an encore. I attended Cliff’s concert in October of 1973 at the Sydney Opera House, which was held on the evening of the day after Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II had officially opened the building. Cliff appeared on a double bill with Harry Secombe, and I must say I enjoyed that concert far more than this evening’s.

The concert finished by five minutes to nine after those on stage had thrown streamers into that part of the audience below us. We crossed George Street and sat upstairs in the Parisienne Pussycat Restaurant. Two servings of raisin toast, a hot Vienna chocolate and a cappucino cost us two dollars and seventy-five cents in total.

The crowd, which was assembling for Cliff’s second concert, blocked the footpath outside the Regent and members of the police force were on hand to guide passers-by round it.

Tiki stated that she had been quite unimpressed by Cliff’s performance, adding that he was “too in love with himself” and the audio “too loud”.

Potholed And ‘Cracked’ Paradise!

Earlier this year we drove north to one of our favourite destinations, Port Stephens.

There is no denying that the scenery around Nelson Bay, is glorious and the area’s beaches appear pristine, however, we found its roads – especially the secondary ones – were literally a minefield. We had planned to stay in the more relaxed hamlet of Lemon Tree Passage and make daily excursions to other destinations in the region, however, the road, especially on the inward journey, was in such a state of disrepair that we soon quashed that idea.

We walked our dog on three beaches, our favourite being Birubi because of its firm sand and its sheer length. One Mile Beach was another to impress us. A footpath leads one on a walk from the waterfront in Nelson Bay to and beyond Dutchman’s Beach. It was near here that we sighted dolphins just off a nearby rocky point. Our walk also passed a number of dead and dying mature trees. A plethora of nearby signs asserted that they had been poisoned and/or irreparably vandalised.

During an earlier visit, we had enjoyed the expansive views afforded from Port Stephens’ Tomaree Lookout. One can reduce one’s assent by driving to the carpark, which is not far below its summit.

I really enjoyed the meals I partook of at ‘Cafe on the Bay’, in the heart of Nelson Bay itself. As we were making our way there we happened to pass a store with a small blackboard set up on the edge of the footpath. Written upon it was the following:

‘Why didn’t the toilet paper cross the road?

Because it got stuck in a crack!’