One of the joys of travel in winter is layering. Black on black on black as it turns out. Layering is something we are only able to do a few days a year in Melbourne and generally only indoors due to our archaic heating and insulation.

M reminded me of staying in Kaikoura Ave with Penny and I the 90’s where the floor boards were so wide apart you could see through them and you needed a beanie indoors. I then recalled the day I got up for work, had breakfast in aforementioned beanie plus coat, scarf and woolen socks with boots. Once I’d eaten I grabbed my bag and left. Whilst waiting for my change of train at Spencer St station I noticed in a window reflection that there was a bag lady following me. On closer inspection it turned out to be me, still in my pyjamas (and beanie).

Needless to say any subsequent and previous clothing faux pax does not parallel turning up to work in pjs.

This brings me to a more serious topic of the numbers of homeless people sleeping rough on the streets of Europe in the middle of Winter. Most disturbing are the Roma children begging with their mothers. What sort of a life is that? It makes me so angry on so many levels.

Its one of the difficult things you really have no good answers to when your kids ask why. The puppies are bad enough. Every second beggar has a puppy. What happens to them when they are no longer cute? But then they may be the only love they get. And the people asleep across the pavement in the rain in the middle of a busy shopping strip. We are very sheltered in Northcote. It is far from PNG.