Let's face it, some days you're the pigeon and some days you're the statue.
- Maria Morgan
On my walk to work in the work in the mornings, on days when I am too late to score an underground car park, I pass this stone bust in a little rotunda outside the Italian Cultural Centre. As I approach, I always think its Bert Hinkler wearing aviation cap and goggles perched in his head, but of course it must be some esteemed historial Italian figure. I should find out who.
...and here, come rain or shine, is my friend Robbie Burns, sitting cross-legged and contemplative a little further along outside a Government department on the corner of Canberra Avenue and National Circuit.
The children always wave and say hello to Robbie when we drive past.
To a Louse
(On seeing a louse on a lady's bonnet at church!)
Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunned by saunt an' sinner,
How daur ye set your fit upon her,
Sae fine a lady!
Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner,
On some poor body.
Poem by Robbie Burns.
