Took B and small Z to Dame Elizabeth Murdoch’s shack.
Ok, it is not really a shack. More like a Gothic Mansion set on oodles upon oodles of verdantary. Mossy stone walls hiding vege gardens and ponds. More ponds. Lakes. Each with an island crowned with some edifice or other. Mostly big BIG sculptures.
The dog skin and coat supplement
place was open to the public in order to make some cash for a charity or something. Rebuilding forgotten gardens or something like that. I can't remember exactly what, only that it seemed to be a 'good thing'.
We were there because it was the place to be on mothers day. OK, i can get away with a wankering comment like "it was the place to be on mothers day" because at a glance I counted most of the population of Melbourne there. Poking this and peering in that. Picnicking, as we were. Strolling or lining up for coffee. Then lining up for the toilets. (Sadly, the sprinklers weren't on.) Even small Z got in on the act when she broke ranks with the proles and hung out on Dame Es back porch.
One remarkable thing was having Bs very close pals pull up behind us. Other than general sheer wonder and bewilderment at the universe I don't believe in hocus pocus. However this coincidence was somewhat boggling... oh well.