V/Line

A strange set of events led to me catching the train from Warragul back into town.

My husband dropped me off at the station in Warragul, which was crowded with school kids. They were obviously catching the country train on their way home from school.

The train was quite long, and so most of the carriages were close to empty. I settled into a couple of adjacent seats. But I could have quite easily occupied 8! The rowdy school kids must have gone another carriage, because it was quiet in ours.

The train hooted along, flashing past green paddocks with grazing fresians, and stopping at all the country stations along the way. As we got closer to the city, the paddocks became smaller, and the cows were replaced by horses, the barbed wire by post and rail. Part of me wondered why we couldn't have bought a nice horse property here, part of me knew. The state forest.

When we joined with the suburban train track, the train really started zooming along. I sat in my seat, reading my (Harry Potter) book, glancing out the window occasionally. Just in time to spot the down boom gates, and long queues of cars waiting for my royal carriage to pass. The train driver hooted the horn regularly just to let everyone know, that this train was coming through.

I found my journey "rejuvenating".

I disembarked at a suburban station, and caught the bus home. The bus trip was not "rejuvenating" per se ... "entertaining" is probably more appropriate. There was some lout at the back giving non-stop commentary ... on everything. Everything that caught his attention, be it the ad for zero coke, or the driver that didn't give way, or the sign on the local primary school. And of course, as we drove via the University he got stuck into the uni students as well. But with good humour, and he knew when to stop.

It wasn't a short trip, but I arrived home extremely refreshed, and with a smile on my face. Now to the best part. How much did I pay for all this pleasure?

$3.80.

Harry Potter and the Family Wizards

My reading of the Harry Potter books to my daughter, has not only started a trend. It has started a cult-like following. It all started when my daughter arrived at the table one lunchtime and announced "Mama, I hope I will be in Griffindor".

We are not ones to gape for long, and I replied "I'm sure you will be. After all, I was in Griffindor".

Sabina took my response in her stride, as though it was obvious that I had gone to wizarding school, and turned to Papa.

"Papa, what house where you in, when you went to Hogwarts?"

"Ravenclaw", replied Papa.

Jokes aside though, when you start digging deeper, how do you explain the picture of my mum with a black cat sitting on her shoulder? And why do we have wizard's robes and hats hanging in the upstairs bedroom?

It also doesn't help that we have a guinea pig named Ginny, and a horse name Lilly.