This is a story about a garden and a building. Once upon a time there was a semi-ugly but did the trick apartment building in North Sydney. George and Tamara and about 100+ other people lived in this building. Half the apartments had beautiful views overlooking the Harbour. The other half had a view of a bamboo grove growing in front of the building. It wasn't the nicest bamboo grove but it was green and it gave the building a nice feel (especially as it was the front of the building) and people liked it. Then, one day, all the residents (well the residents who rented) came home to find the bamboo cut down.
A war started. Well, a war of words. Notes were left in the lift. "Cleaning happening outside the building" "GIVE US BACK OUR BAMBOO" "Car for sale" "WHERE'S OUR BAMBOO" "Volunteers needed to plant front garden" "WHAT??? YOU CUT DOWN OUR BAMBOO AND NOW WANT US TO VOLUNTEER TO GARDEN". Things would quiet down and then someone would leave another note somewhere in building and it would start up again.
Tamara and George thought the new bamboo-stump-and-rubbish look for the front garden wasn't the BEST, but mostly just felt the whole thing was amusing. Things quieted down.
And then, one day last week Tamara and George came home to see this:
I've been terrible about blogging- I admit it. In an attempt to return to the blogosphere, Darcy had an idea of posting one photo per week. I thought that was a bloody good idea. So, here we go:
Saturday afternoon off-shore racing
This one is from two weeks ago, but since yesterday afternoon I was doing virtually the same thing, I figure it doesn't matter. Saturday afternoons are now spent sailing on the high seas. Except the seas haven't been particularly high, and I don't do much in terms of sailing the boat. Mostly, I just add weight. Still fun, though.