Just an average Australian back yard, with lemon tree, passionfruit vine on garage, pot plants and a Hills Hoist clothesline. The latter's gears failed years ago, and it is stuck in the "down" position. There are no spare parts available.

Glenyce is satisfied with it, but one day we will get a new one.

The lawn is full of paspalum clumps, and short of replacing all the soil and starting afresh, nothing can be done. It cannot be dug out - believe me, we have tried!

Looking west up the north side of the house, we see a cheap gazebo we've had for years, a gas BBQ at far right, under the flowering climbers on the fence. Cheap plastic chairs and table set off the low-budget look.

This a sheltered space where many orchids and ferns grow well. Glenyce is the gardener, and a very good one! I sort of lost interest when after various operations my back disorder settled in for the duration.

The north side of the house is sunny but sheltered, and plants grow well. We have some good Kangaroo Paws settling in, here. We've had creepers of all sorts up here, and even trees.

In 1967, when we first moved in, there was orange clay, bricks and concrete bits everywhere. That was from the builders, and especially the plumbers, who dug a deep trench under this garden bed. I dug it all out, formed gardens and lawns myself.

The concrete path has slumped away from the house; one day we'll afford to pave all this. In the meantime the birds love to dig for worms in the garden, throwing litter on to the path. That annoys Glenyce, because it walks into the house, so she sweeps the path regularly.

Even I have been known to wield a broom out there, but being male, I have a much greater tolerance for disorder than she does. That's code for "lazier"!

The foreground shrub is Heliotrope, which smells to me like a cheap brothel. Don't ask! The lamp charges batteries from sunshine and gives a blue glow at night. We have eight! Like a cheap brothel.

Photo taken from our laundry door shows the nice, lush orchids and so on that Glenyce has grown. The chairs and table are a good spot to escape from the Melbourne summer heat.

The ground is lined with wood chips. I have always wanted to drain and pave this area, but have never had to spare the several thousand needed to do that! I'd love to have BBQs and some of my jazz-playing mates out here in sunny weather.

Our view of our back yard and beyond. When we moved in, there was no fence, and rabbits were seen in here. It used to be market gardens.

Over the fence are lawns belonging to the Victorian Road Traffic Authority, which runs a road trauma rehabilitation hospital over there. They are building extensions there, and there will be a car-park.

On occasion, we have had a helicopter land just over the fence!

In this view of our back yard we have shrubs and climbers at the left, especially flowering clematis, which abuts the brick garage of our neighbour.

This part of the block slopes down towards us, and before we developed good gardens and lawns the water would run down here in torrents during those really heavy Melbourne summer rainstorms.

The path still runs brimful towards us when we have heavy rain, but it seems to disperse into the garden at this point, which has good drainage.

More of the same. I don't know why I included this!

We like the look of our back yard! But the black arm of the crane is from the extensions they're building to the Rehab Centre out the back. It's temporary!

Glenyce and my daughter Leanne call this the Fairy Garden. The centrepiece is a potted Hoya that must be decades old - in season it flowers profusely, dripping nectar everywhere and bringing the ants, bees and European wasps! The rest are various delicate and colourful plants that make a house a home.

On the laundry doorstep is a butt-filled dish: Leanne comes out here to smoke, even in the depths of winter. Occasionally she spots possums, or sometimes rats!

The pottery fairy is seen in the garden, amidst the assorted stones, which have been collected by us from holidays in most states of Australia. There is even a stone or two of volcanic rock we brought back from the volcano called Yasur, on the island of Tanna, in Vanuatu!


To continue the tour, imagine going through the sliding doors to the right, where upon you will enter the family room, where we eat as a family and with visitors, read the papers, and where I play my piano and keyboards.

The family room, built on in about 1975, cost $14,000, the total cost of the combined house and land deal in 1967! The piano belonged to my mother, and she taught me to play on it in Kalgoorlie, WA, where we lived until we came over here in 1952.

My chair has the back-frame, to reduce back pain; I prefer to sit upright rather than on lounges. Here I have written chemistry lectures and exam papers, marked them, written music and assembled albums of it, and even soldered electronics!

Glenyce in her element, the kitchen, overlooks the family room table. On the long white bench I spread my accounts and junk. To the left we see a microwave oven, then through to the front door, behind her is the fridge and cooking library, and to the right of her is the TV room, with an old orange lounge.

Then the chest freezer fits the alcove, made to fit! It just keeps going and going, like Glenyce, really! We keep stuff on its lid, and just take them off to get into it!

A peek through the kitchen to the front door. Here we're looking south, down past Philip Island to Tasmania!

Note the usual domestic kitchen clutter. Glenyce happened to be holding open the fridge door.

The big orange book on the shelf is "The Cook's Companion" by Stephanie Alexander. It is a bloody good cook book!

My wife, Glenyce, in her domain. The red Chinese jar contained preserved ginger, and so did the little blue one.

The book on the bench is the Family Diary - without that we don't know what's going on, and at the close of the year it's our family history!

Visitors can see the kitchen through the open front door. Glenyce has always hated that, but we chose this design. By the time you discover disadvantages of a house plan, it's too late. We've been here since 1967.

With back to the front window of the family room, we have a rather pleasant view through the sliding doors to the back garden.

The pink object on the outdoors table is a pot of Cyclamens goven to Glenyce for Mother's Day. And you can clearly see the washing!

My God, the grain's awful in this ASA400 film!

Now let's turn to our right, into the TV room.

The timber wall came with the house, and we got the orange lounge then, too. I built in the book shelves. We inherited a crystal cabinet (far rear), and also the tea-trolley, next to the bright red liliums that I bought Glenyce for Mother's Day - we....ell, she does mother me!

The TV set we got from the kids one Xmas! The wall-clock was a birthday present from me to Glenyce quite recently. The green pot-plant is a Dieffenbachia. It is an excellent indoor plant, but poisonous. No-one plans to eat it, though.

Here we have a wonderful view of the front street, which is good when we spy someone allowing their dog to crap on our nature strip. Then we pull back the curtains and rap on the window! Shame usually works, and if that fails then we can yell through the glass! There is a certain lack of dignity in that, but cares about that when talking to dog-owning cretins.

The small wooden table at the right is where I sit watching TV and eating. My back disorder is exacerbated by lounges, and it's better that I sit up straight.

Here's Glenyce hogging the limelight again. Actually she's making one of the variety of delicious slices that she bakes!

And yet again, we bid farewell to the kitchen...

On the wall at right we have a barometer and so on, and the controls for the ducted gas heating and the evaporative air conditioner that sits on top of the roof.

While watching TV we look out into the little green garden nook that we've developed over the years. The tree fern is quite tall, and we planted it soon after we first moved in.

We have so many potted orchids that we've run out of space for them, so we put them on the steps out there. This means that any unsuspecting soul who goes out there in the dark will fall flat on their face into the wood chips and dirt!

And if we turn right around from the last picture we can look south into the lounge room, to see more of the house in the next part of the tour.