the long weekend of unknown cause

This weekend was a long weekend. It's four o'clock on Monday afternoon so I guess the present tense still applies. This weekend is a long weekend. Can I tell you what this long weekend was in honour of?

Short answer, no.

I know that it's not the Queen's birthday because that's earlier in the New South Welsh year. It's not Foundation Day because New South Wales was technically founded on Australia Day (that's what you get for saying you're "The First State" on New South Welsh numberplates circa mid-'90s
, which by the way, NSW might be the first colony, but a little thing called Federation means that every state is the first state. I really must stop being a nerd, close these brackets and actually figure out what this public holiday is for). It could very possibly be Labour Day because that's the only possible generic public holiday I can think of.

Perhaps looking it up might produce an answer.

Ah ha! By the power invested by me by Google, it is Labour Day. I'm not too sure what we did to deserve it, but thanks!

Anyhoo, I spent my non-descript public holiday weekend in our Nation's Capital, looking at flowers. And other stuff, too.

I went to Floriade which as far as I can tell is Canberrans using up all of those primary school fundraising drive bulbs to plant pictures of things you can't make out because you're looking at it from ground level.

But seriously, pretty flowers. I just really wish I could see the picture they were supposed to be making up.

I witnessed a strange phenomenon at Floriade, something I'm convinced I won't witness for some time to come.

It's the 'the size of my camera equates to the perceived genetalia size' phenomenon. You may recognise this phenomenon as being similar to the 'size of my Holden or Ford V8 (or Subaru if you live in Orange) equates to the perceived genetalia size' phenomenon. If you're toting a piddly little 3x zoom 8 megapixel camera the size of your mobile phone, you were considered lightweight, nay sneered upon by your fellow tourists. Carry a 'prosumer', not quite SLR camera and you might have a tiny bit of street cred, this is the equivalent of driving a Camry. But if you're bending over a tulip with a macro lens, waiting for the light to be 'just right', ready to whip off the macro lens to your normal lens to get the perfect family happy snap; then you're effectively driving a Commodore complete with spoiler, skirting and doof-doof stereo. Oh yeah, and the fact that you're taking a family happy-snap? You've just slapped a 'Baby on board' sign on that wanky 'car' of yours.

I also went to the National Gallery of Australia. It was a strange experience going through the Australia Art section and see areas devoted to "Colonial New South Wales", "Colonial Victoria", "Colonial Tasmania" and, "Colonial South Australia".

What the hell happened to Colonial Western Australia, Colonial Queensland and Colonial Northern Territory? Maybe those "colonial" landscapes differed too much from the gum trees and green paddocks that "colonial" life should have looked like. Whatever, now I'm just ranting.

There were more flowers to be had at the Australian War Memorial. Long walls of names with poppies beside them to signify that someone knew them, loved them and appreciated the effort they went to. The memorial has an amazing sense of symmetry to it.

A trip to Black Mountain and the Telstra Tower was the only tourist attraction I had to pay money to get into. Yep. Everything else was free. The view was beautiful, it made Canberra look like an ant city. Oddly enough, I could feel my brain melting ever-so slightly after being so close to so many mobile phone/AM/FM/television transmitters.

But now with my brain slightly melted I find myself back in Orange where it's the windiest I've ever seen. Very strange.