120 square metres

Invited myself over to visit a friend whose partner is an architect, they live in a heritage cottage with a laneway rear extension, grand total of 120sqm. I liked it a lot (without knowing if that's a lot or a little); reminded me of A Tiny Apartment (my fave blog, whose partner is an architect too!), as it had upstairs loft study space, downstairs kitchen/dining/living space, corridor of art/bookshelves and smaller bedrooms. A kid came home from school, presumably on his bicycle or dropped off by neighbour, politely nodded and ignored me as they grabbed food from the pantry.  

We chit chatted, sipping from mugs I admired, it was like being in South Hobart, complete with a friendly neighbourhood lady who dropped off spare football boots. I asked partner if being an architect is being good at problem solving and he said yeah, defining the problem, that matters, and my friend and I expanded: spatial problem solving, small spaces, knowing complicated like physics and angles, warm in winter, cold in summer, without much aircon or heating. I'm impressed as the aesthetic was also charming, upstairs loft areas were bounded with tennis nets, lots of books and prints. She also said something really intelligent about cultural signifiers, but I can't do it justice. 

Umm, enjoying reading Hilary McPhee's book about university and becoming a publisher, keep skipping ahead for Helen Garner to appear, but I know I need to slow down and live through the sixties, which even for inner city Carlton, sound dull. But it IS interesting to understand how under recognised people are, culturally, and the importance of differentiating between social and economic capital. 

Post script: Helen Garner appears, quite the letter writer, always admitting to people the errors that led to personal growth. Interesting, very interesting. McPhee/Gribble told HG her second story/novel was a bit shit, she gave it time, realised they were right, thanked them. I liked, too, different locations they had their office, including two story terrace with on-site creche, little ones playing in the back garden. Wow, just wow. Funny to think that every time I visited Melbs, age 13 onwards, I was looking around for Carlton bohemians, but all I saw were adults in Country Road jumpers and students in Doc Martens. 

Went for a swim at the Aquatic Centre, 50m open lanes on a weekday before 2:30pm, "everyone" wants to pretend they need an inclusive toilet/shower so they can have some privacy, but 'No-one" understands that you need to lock the door properly, geez louise, we don't want to see your winter white naked body.