Today is Anzac Day. I'll let Wikipedia explain the details of this particular holiday, but it's a veterans/war memorial holiday with strong, sombre overtones. And biscuits. And by "biscuits", I mean "cookies", but you're not allowed to call them cookies. They're Anzac Biscuits.

Miranda asked first thing this morning if we had Anzac Biscuits for the holiday. (We didn't. We did go out and get some. They're pretty tasty.) Later in the evening, I pondered aloud the origin of Anzac Biscuits and whether the story I'd heard about them (something about soldiers on the battlefield making cookies with the stuff in their mess kits) was even remotely true (I didn't think it was. Turns out I was right.)

In fact, the actual origin of these tasty bickies (that's short for "biscuits") is still somewhat mysterious. Thankfully, Allyson Gofton did the research on their origin, and it's a pretty interesting read.

Oatmeal cookies, with an interesting history and a lot of popular myths surrounding them. Lest we forget.

SYDNEY is shedding 22,000 citizens a year to all parts of Australia, and for the first time the people deficit covers all key groups, from students and young singles to families and retirees.

(Just a personal note, you couldn't pay us to live in Sydney. Literally. Andrew has been headhunted by Google more than once and the pay and compensation package is impressive, but there's this huge drawback, and that is that we'd have to move to Sydney. He and others have suggested to Google that they should open an office in Melbourne because this is where all the good information retrieval people are, and almost none of them are willing to leave Marvelous Melbourne and move to (sucky?) Sydney. It's interesting to see that lots of other people feel the same way. I mean, people prefer Hobart to Sydney, what does that tell you?)

The questions [...] about Australia, are from potential visitors. They were posted on an Australian Tourism Website and the answers are the actual responses by the website officials, who obviously have a sense of humour.

There's been a lot of talk with the current government (that's John Howard & Co., don't get me started) of making new immigrants take an "Australian Values" test. Now, I can see requiring, say, a requirement for minimal English competence (necessary in many workplaces, for example), but other than that...

Well, there has been a lot of counter-talk as to what, precisely, these "Australian Values" might actually be. This is an extremely diverse and multi-cultural society. What "values" are these that we're going to test potential new citizens on?

Values Australia attempts to answer that question in classic Australian style: by taking the piss.

So, Aussies, don't know what this whole Oztion business is about? Check out this growing list of Oztion sellers and just have a look at the incredible diversity. And that's only a handful of the thousands of sellers there! Go on, have a look. You know you want to...

Your next door neighbours can be from Tunisia, Israel, Indonesia, Japan, Zimbabwe, Iraq, Brazil, Spain, Malaysia...

The community is so concerned over the fact that muslim women can't use public swimming pools because there are men present that they have female-only periods.

The Greeks and Mexicans next door ask you over to have a barbeque.

You don't actually use the words 'sheila' or 'shrimp'.

You sleep with Aeroguard on.

You're wearing a cap emblazoned with 'Get A Dog Up Ya.'

You feel obliged to spread salty black stuff that looks like congealed motor oil on bread and actually grow to like it.

You actively dislike Americans, but watch their TV, eat their food and worship their idols.

You think Tall Poppy Syndrome is a national condition.

Democracy means the freedom to draw caricatures of John Howard.

Continue reading "You Know You're From Australia When..."…

Freak summer storms lashed eastern Australia overnight, dumping record rains on Melbourne, hitting Brisbane with a towering dust storm and leaving at least two people dead, officials said.
 
Melbourne received more rain in the 24 hours to Thursday morning than during any day since records began in 1856, leaving the city's rivers and waterways swollen to bursting point.
 
Victoria state police were searching for a teenage boy reported to have been swept away in a suburban Melbourne creek while two people were killed by falling trees in neighboring New South Wales state.
 
The storms, caused by an intense low-pressure system, hit a vast area from Queensland state in the north, through New South Wales and Victoria and on to the island state of Tasmania off mainland Australia's southeastern corner.

Common Australian usage is to say someone is/was "pregnant to" someone, rather than pregnant BY someone. Drives me nuts, you don't get pregnant TO someone. Maybe, I could by getting pregnant FROM someone, I mean, that kinda makes sense, but.... to?

Of course, Australians also use the phrase "fell pregnant" to mean "became pregnant". I've always found that particularly bizarre, as well, like you're just walking down the street and you trip and WHOOPS! Bun in the oven!

Then again, maybe if you trip and fall on him, you're going to get pregnant TO him or something... Hmmm.... I dunno, though, an Australian has made me pregnant more than once and I don't recall a lot of tripping or falling or other unusual prepositional usage...

Well, last week it was really hot, it cooled slightly for the weekend (but was still pretty warm) and now, it's actually hailing. Mind you, hailstorms are pretty common in Melbourne, we normally get at least one a year. Usually, they're not very severe, but they can be. This one appears to be of the milder variety, with small hailstones. It's actually already over (and the electricity didn't even flicker).

[Edited after ten minutes] And now, the sun is shining....

An Aussie in America compiled a nifty little Australian/American dialect comparison. Very interesting. I've done something vaguely like that in this blog, but it wasn't anywhere as extensive (or interesting) as this. So, hey, if you want to know what an "op shop" is or what you should call that last letter of the alphabet, give it a look.

I just have to quote this comment from an email correspondant regarding Melbourne and its, errr, interesting weather....

I've recently moved to Melbourne from
Brisbane. They told it was 4 seasons in one day but what they didn't tell me
was that that's an average - you get 2 seasons one day and 6 the next.

Melbourne has been declared the near-perfect town after being rated the best city in the world to call home. See? See? I keep telling eveyrone how wonderful Melbourne is!

It's Australia Day (and my mother-in-law's birthday). January 26 is the date that the First Fleet landed at Botany Bay (they later moved to a more congenial spot, that which became Sydney Harbour).

Many people feel that this is no cause for celebration, because it represents the colonial, imperialist European White male arriving to do awful things to the land and native people.

Others feel that it's a good day to have a barbeque or go to the beach, since it's a holiday and they don't have to go to work.

We're having a barbeque. And we may (or may not) go out later and see if we can find a fireworks show.

Happy Australia Day, no matter how you feel about it (and happy birthday, Lyn).

Melbourne is famous (or infamous) for it's very changable weather. The joke is "four seasons in one day" but it applies also to patches of a different season in the middle of the one you're supposed to be having, too.

A couple weeks ago, regular readers may recall, I was bitching about the heat. Well, all this week it's been cold, and I mean COLD. Rainy, wet, grey, COLD. I've had to close all the windows and put on the heat!

I commented to Andrew on this patch of wintery weather in the middle of summer and said, "If you were to wake up from, say, a coma, and try to guess what season it was, you'd never say 'Gee, is it the middle of summer?'"

Andrew, who was born and raised in Melbourne, replied, "Nah. If you woke up from a coma in Melbourne you'd never, ever try to guess the season."

Mind you, Melburnians seem to take some level of pride in the changable weather and their ability to adapt to it. I suppose it's a bit like how upstate New Yorkers are proud of the snow and how well they cope with it, or how southern Arizonans seem not to mind the scorching desert heat and just laugh it off and find ways to deal with it.

So anyway, that's the weather report for Melbourne. Quite possibly, in a few days you'll see a posting from me complaining about how it suddenly got bloody hot... Ah, Melbourne. Gotta love it. (Well, you don't have to love it, you just have to take pride in it and act like you're oh-so-cool for being able to tolerate the weird weather patterns and adapt accordingly).

Here's an odd bit of Australia.

Eggs here are brown. I've only once seen white eggs in any store. Brown is the normal, usual color.

In the States, of course, eggs are primarily white, and brown eggs are something of a speciality item. I actually know of (American) people who swear brown eggs taste better. My experience, of course, is that they taste exactly like white eggs.

Why are eggs here brown but in the States they're mostly white? I have absolutely no idea whatsoever.

Oh, and Australians don't really do the dying of Easter eggs thing. Andrew says that some people might paint or otherwise decorate eggs, but I've certainly never seen "Easter egg kits" in stores on anything like that.

But, hey, when your eggs are brown anyway, there's not much point, I guess...

Australia's most famous painting is Chloé. Well, it may not be the most famous (I think there are a few by Tom Roberts and Sidney Nolan that are better known), but it's probably the most infamous.

In a nutshell, it's a picture of a naked young woman. It was painted in 1875, and eventually ended up in the National Gallery of Victoria, where it managed to attract a lot of controversy and negative attention from certain moral extremists (typical of the later Victorian era).

The thing that makes this remarkable is not this story, which isn't particularly interesting. It's also not the picture, which really isn't that unusual. The thing that I think makes this story uniquely Australian is that this very famous and valuable painting is now hanging in a pub in Melbourne.

To be fair, it is a pub with a significant history, and it's a nice place where you can get a good meal, but it's still a pub.

Naturally, I've eaten there and had a look at Chloé (which is how I know it's not that remarkable as paintings go). It's a really big painting, just for the record, and in the frame it's probably eight feet high. And it's hanging right there on the wall in one of the common rooms in Young and Jackson's.

I dunno, it just says something about Australian culture to me. Just what, I'm not sure, but I like the fact that one of Australia's most famous (and valuable) paintings is hanging in a pub...

It's Australia Day, in case you weren't aware. That's Australia's "naitonal day", like American Independence Day, Cinco de Mayo, Bastille Day, and so forth. The tradition here for Australia Day is generally what you'd expect. Parades, barbeques, going to the beach or other recreation spot, and fireworks (no fireworks this year on account of the dry timber and bushlands).

It also happens to be my mother-in-law's birthday.

So happy Australia Day and Happy Birthday, Lyn!

Generally speaking, I don't have too much trouble with understanding an Australian dialect. I did when I first got here, but I've learned most of the quirks now, and I even use a number of distinctively Australian phrases and expressions.

Now and then, though, something will still catch me off guard or amuse me.

My greatest ongoing amusement is that Aussies (and Brits, too, as I understand it) use the term "pot plant" to refer to what Americans would call a "potted plant". In pretty much any American dialect, a "pot plant" is, well, pot. You know, cannabis, also known as marijuana, grass, wacky weed, etc. (furthermore, I grew up in the seventies and spent a fair amount of time in California in my early teens, 'nuff said). So when we go to a hardware store or grocery store that has a big sign that says "Pot Plant Sale" I am always amused on some level, despite the fact that I know they mean a "potted plant" and not pot.

And on drug-related topics, many Aussies also call what Americans call a baby stroller a "pusher". When I was growing up, "pusher" was slang for a drug dealer.

Finally, when I thought I'd mostly "got it" and didn't have too many "What are you on about?" moments, I got caught out just a couple weeks ago. I took the car to an automotive repair shop to get an estimate, and the guy I was talking to told me he needed the "reg-o" (REJ-oh, that typical Australian thing where they stick an "oh" sound on the end of words, no, I don't get it either). I just blinked. I thought, "Registration papers... hmmm..." and I went out to look in the glove compartment (which is, thankfully, still a glove compartment, even in Oz). See, in every U.S. state I've lived in (and that's a fair number of states), your "registration" refers to the actual registration papers, which are carried around with the vehicle, usually in the glove compartment.

Nope. No papers. Hmmm. There's a sticker on the windshield (errr, windscreen). I copied down all the information from it, all the numbers and weird little identifications, and then went back in with the info scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Turns out the "reg-o" is what I'd call the license plate number. *sigh*

It's almost four years I've been here. I've been conversing with Australians on a daily basis for a lot more years. And I still get caught out by a silly phrase like that...

Melbourne has once again been rated the World's Most Livable City. It scored almost perfectly in every category. The only place it lost a point was the weather, which has a tendency to change rather rapidly and without warning (four seasons in one day).

We went into the city today. I absolutely love the city of Melbourne, and now that we live in the suburbs (way out in the suburbs; just up the road from us you can see horses grazing in a paddock), I don't get to see the city nearly as much as I'd like to. I missed it. It was wonderful to be there today.

We went to the Melbourne Museum to see a particular show there. We didn't end up seeing it, because the queue to buy the tickets was half an hour and the queue to get into the actual exhibit was another hour. We ended up buying the tickets and we'll go back next weekend.

I must say, I was quite impressed with the design of the museum. Next week, I'll have my camera back and I'll take some snapshots of the interior. Suffice it to say, it's exceedingly clever and very post-modern, combining lots of metal and glass in interesting ways that interact with nature and the sky. Yes, really.

Anyway, we got out and had a nice bit of a walk from where we parked (we decided not to use the museum's parking lot, which is right under the museum, and instead parked on the street a couple blocks away).

The museum is right next to the only remaining Victorian era exhibition building in the world (the contrast between Victoriana and Post-Modern is pretty interesting, too, I might add).

When we go next week, I'll bring the camera and get some pictures of the park, the streetscape, the museum, etc.

You know how most people retire to the country? I think Andrew and I will retire to the heart of the city...

There are parrots and other exotic birds in the trees here. I'm infinitely fascinated by this fact. Flocks of cockatoos (common in the country) absolutely mesmerize me. So do galahs (medium sized, crested, grey birds with a pink belly, technically a type of cockatoo, and quite common). Rainbow lorakeets (which live up to their name by having gorgeous, brilliant, multi-colore plumage) are also fairly common, and there are plenty of other gorgeous parroty birds sitting in the trees right outside the windows.

When I see something like that, I often get very excited (although after the years I've been here I'm somewhat more used to the sight of pink and grey crested birds flocking around the place). I used to blurt out, "Oh, look! Parrots!" Andrew, being as native an Australian as you're likely to get without having convict ancestery (he has gold rush ancestery, which is nearly as good), tends to respond with something along the line of amused boredom.

But think about it. I mean, there are PARROTS right outside my window, sitting in the trees! In the States, you pay hundreds of dollars (or much more) for exotic birds like that and they certainly don't live in the wild. Here in Australia, they're sitting in the trees and are, in some places, so abundant they're pests.

You can imagine why I'm still captivated by the sight of wild parrots. However, to appease my Australian husband, I try not to get too excited about it. When I see some gorgeous bird or flock of birds that I want to comment on, I try to contain my enthusiasm by adopting a bored tone of voice and saying, "Oh. Ho hum. Parrots." This, for some reason, quite amuses my husband...

Okay, here's an Australianism I find both amusing and odd. First, and this isn't necessarily odd, just different, Aussies tend to make nicknames by sticking an "O" on the end of things. Like instead of saying "thingy" they may say "thingo". I've also heard "yummo" instead of "yummy".

The part that I find odd is that they'll shorten just about anything and stick an O on the end of it. For example, the Salvation Army is known as "The Salvos" (they even use this in their advertising). Another thing I don't entirely get is a football team (rugby? can't recall) called the "Rabbit-ohs". As in "rabbit with an o stuck on the end". Presbyterians are sometimes called "Presbos" (I don't know if Methodists are/were "Methodos"). Probably the funniest thing I've seen is a roadside fish seller (with a refridgerated truck, of course) that had "Fisho" painted on the side of the truck.

I don't get it. I mean, I get it, in the sense that it's a characteristic of the dialect, probably originating with some other English/Irish/Scottish dialect (Irish, I'd guess, but that's purely speculation on my part). I just "don't get it" in the sense that it's very strange to my American ears. I'm used to it by now (I can find "the thingo" as well as the next person and tell when something is "yummo"), but sometimes I still hear usages of it that make me kinda cock my head to the side and make that "dog listening to his master's voice" expression.

I've been living in Australia for over three years now. I've managed to pick up most of the dialect, and I even use some of it, although my speech is still distinctively American and so is my accent.

In the time I've been here, I've had to learn new words to describe the things I want. I'm not talking about pronunciation, although that can be confusing enough (you say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to, let's call the whole thing off...). I mean actual words and phrases that are really quite different. It can be frustrating at times.

Here are just a few that immediately come to mind:

Then there are the phrases that I just find odd. Like someone says they'll see you "Tuesday week," which means "a week from Tuesday." Or the phrase "fall pregnant" instead of "become pregnant" or "get pregnant". I always find that one pretty amusing. Like you were just walking along and you tripped and WHOOPS! You're pregnant!

And on the subject of pregnancy is the weird use of the phrase "pregnant to" instead of "pregnant by". In other words, I was "pregnant to Andrew".

Some Aussie phrases are pretty good, though. Like "down the gurgler" for "down the toilet". But Cool Australian Phrases is probably a topic for another mini-essay on another day, I think. As for me, I normally use some "cool" Aussie phrases and words if I like them, and I use Australian names for things if I must (such as asking for paracetemol in the chemist, since they probably won't know what acetominophen is). When I'm tired or distracted, I still use the American dialect, though, and some things I just plain refuse to say, like "pusher" instead of "stroller" (you know, a little chair with wheels that you put a baby in).

Thankfully, Andrew can translate when necessary. He's bi-dialectic.

I love Australian pocket change. See, they don't have one cent pieces (everything is rounded up or down to the nearest five cents) but they do have one and two dollar coins. So you don't end up with a pocket full of almost worthless coins and sometimes you can eat a decent meal with just "pocket change".

Here's a bit of trivia that may surprise you. Macadamia nuts are native to Australia, and are named after one of the early governors, a man named MacAdam.

Because they're grown extensively (and expensively) in Hawaii, I had always thought they were Hawaiian and the name was some exotic Polynesian word, but no. I was surprised to learn the truth.

These lovely treats still grow wild in parts of Australia, believe it or not.

So there you go, the origin of the Macadamia nut and its name.

We finally saw kangaroos today. Well, when I say "we" I mean me. Andrew's seen lots of them. I've been in Australia about three and a half years, and I've only seen roos in the wild once, and that was at some distance as we sped down the highway. Today, though, I really got to see some roos.

There was a whole group of them in a field, lounging around in the shade, nibbling on the grass, generally just hanging out, as roos are inclined to do. I couldn't get very close, which is probably a good thing, as I might have scared them off and I wouldn't have gotten any pictures. As it is, I got several shots, but they're not great. My camera doesn't have a very powerful telephoto lens. But I did get some snaps of them, and you can see for yourself that there really are kangaroos in Australia.

The ones we saw today are Eastern Grey Kangaroos. They're not terribly big (a couple of meters tall, at most), and they're very common and frequently considered a pest when the population gets out of control and they ravage the countryside and farmlands.

Still, I found it exciting. Kangaroos, right out there in a field where I could look at them and take their pictures. How cool is that?

There are also a couple of new pictures on that page of the photo gallery that I took today of the Yarra River at Warrendyte. Very pretty, and apparently you can swim there. It's way too cold for that now, of course, since July is winter (yes, I think it's strange, too, even after all this time; I don't know if I'll ever get used to the backward seasons entirely).

So that was my day. Nice ride in the countryside, a bit of shopping, got some good pictures, and I saw kangaroos. Life is good.

Buying bread from a man in Brussels He was six foot four and full of muscles I said, "Do you speak-a my language?" He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich

~ from "Down Under" by Men at Work

So what IS Vegemite, anyway? Well, you could visit their official website if you wanted. But that wouldn't give you a real idea about the stuff.

Vegemite is actually a by-product of the beer brewing process. It's made of yeast and salt and, errr... mostly yeast and salt. It's brown. It's an acquired taste. It's also sort of an unofficial national food. Yes, really.

As for what it tastes like, well, try to imagine what a thick, yeasty, salty goo that accumulated in the bottom of a beer vat might taste like if you put it on toast.

No, I don't like Vegemite. I've tried it on several occasions just to see if I could manage to acquire the taste for it, but I just can't. Some Americans do come to like the stuff, but I don't think I'll ever be one of them.

One thing I've noticed about Australians is that if you say you don't like Vegemite they always say, "Oh, you must have spread it too thickly!" This is a common error Americans make. It does have to be spread really thinly (personally, I think a depth of two to three molecules would be plenty). There seems to be this underlying assumption that if you don't like Vegemite, it's something YOU did, other than it being the fault of the yeasty, salty brown goo, itself.

Well, I've had real, live Australians with years of Vegemite experience make toast for me, so I know it was prepared correctly. I still think it's foul.

I will admit that it might be all right if it was spread very thinly (that's a bit of a national chant, there) on a sandwich with, say, lettuce, tomato, and cheese (and by the way, it's a "to-MAH-to" in Australia, not a "to-MAY-to", but that's another essay entirely). In other words, use just enough Vegemite to add a little saltiness to an otherwise non-salty sandwich. That might be okay. I haven't tried it, but I'm willing to concede that it might be all right.

That's pretty much the deal with Vegemite. I honestly don't know why Australians love the stuff as much as they do, but I guess it's just something you grow up with, sort of like Americans and Oscar Meyer products or something. I don't entirely "get it", but then, I'm an immigrant, bringing in my strange new ideas and pronouncing it "to-MAY-to" and all...

"We're happy little Vegemites As happy as can be. We all enjoy our Vegemite For breakfast, lunch and tea. Our mother says we're growing stronger every single week Because we love our Vegemite. We all adore our Vegemite. IT PUTS A ROSE IN EVERY CHEEK!"

~ The Vegemite Song (first performed on a radio ad in 1950)