If you were going to live in a confined space for the foreseeable future, say a flat small enough to fit on the stage at the Malvern Theatre Company’s converted church building, and you knew you would be sharing this with six others, I couldn’t have imagined anything worse than someone bringing a cat with them. And this in the days before stinky kitty litter.

But this was before we met Anne Frank. She was a right shocker. Okay, she kept a diary, died in a concentration camp, etc etc, but she was a pain – a teenage girl pain. She knew she was a pain but kept at it anyway. Talk, talk, talk. Come back Kitty, all is forgiven.

In my version of the story, Anne was the one who had the refugees living in her attic, bringing them food and secretly caring for them until she, too, was arrested and killed. I didn’t realise she was part of the punishment inflicted on others. A manic teenager with A.D.D cooped up in a secret flat above a factory.

It was Mr Frank who was the saintly one – arranging the accommodation, sharing the space with another family, keeping the band of lodgers as reasonably well-adjusted as possible in tragically difficult circumstances. Quite why Anne steals the historical limelight is unclear. He even gave her the diary in the first place, so she can’t claim credit for that idea either.

Perhaps it is hard to do in a stage production, but I didn’t get a palpable sense of the impending danger they were in. Sure, they had rules about stocking feet on the floor and not flushing the toilet (gross), but the few sirens and cars pulling up didn’t really convey the Nazi threat. Whenever there was a moment when discovery was a possibility, there was so much hysteria that in all likelihood they would have been heard downstairs.

No, this was a play about cabin fever with Anne.

But it was well acted and some bright young things performed well.

She was a divisive character in her political life. When difficult decisions need to be made you can’t please all of the people all of the time. Baroness Thatcher wasn’t concerned with the popular decision, just the right one. One commentator said ‘she was a signpost, not a weather vane’ and her legacy is that she is remembered for who much she achieved and her strength in carrying it off, even by those who may not have agreed with her decision or policy at the time.

She was the last of the statesmen in Britain. No one since, nor even Blair, could hold a candle to her.

A whole day with architectural photographer Nic Graneesh. I hope I learnt something. Well I know I learnt something on the way there – what a lot of stuff photographers need. Schlepping the camera bag with lenses, camera, charger, note book etc, plus bag with tripod (only opened for the first time just before I left home – managed to remove the labels), plus coat and jumper. Of course it was a cold morning and hot day, so the extra wardrobe was just an additional burden. I felt like Sherpa Tensing but looked like a total drongo

We were photographing the RMIT Design Hub on the corner Victoria St and Lygon, a Sean Godsell design with an external cladding of opaque discs . Not the best position, it’s such a busy corner with tram stop, tram hut, diagonally opposite the Melbourne City Baths. The best view is fronted baths in the early morning. I could have gone on a early shoot tomorrow morning at 6am but that didn’t fit with Sunday worship. Much of the day the sun is only on the rear side, so most of my photos were from that side as we didn’t go there until after lunch. We spent the morning discussing architectural photography.

It was a great day but quite tiring and losing an hour because of the end of daylight saving tonight will not help. Time for a rest.

What is stranger is that it is moving into the Lygon Court – home to the extremely creepy Nova Cinemas. Fire-safety inspection anyone?

According to an article in The Age, the current owner said “We’ve never been able to find a team that would be able to deliver the quality we wanted”. Hardly a ringing endorsement of those who have worked there over the past 38 years. I realise that are don’t possess a razor blade between them, but the food and coffee have always been pretty spectacular (at Faraday St, at least). Granted, the staff display a little more attitude that one would expect from boys whose chosen role in life is to fill coffee cups, but the recipients have kept coming back for more.

At least until this strange move to an arcade – very in-Italian, an indoor venue overlooking the Nova ticket office. Gross.

The bride had a substantial train on her dress, but handled it well, no tripping-on-turning. But I think she was hot under that veil. The groom kept fanning her with the order of service much to the amusement of the guests. I had left the air conditioning on in the parish office just in case we had any fainters.

The service went quickly and finally the veil could be lifted. Relief all round.

Following the service there were photographs in the crowded narthex (not sure how they will come out) then the bride and groom sped off in a black Mustang, while the whole wedding party squeezed into a stretch limo (including the groom’s mum) and champagned their way to the reception.

What ever happened to Safeway? The photo above is the queue I was in at Woolworths Balwyn this evening getting some eggs. There were about 20 people in one line with full trolleys waiting for checkout. Fortunately after about 10 minutes they opened a few more registers and I finally was served and on the way home to bake a cake. Unfortunately the French vanilla cake mix (made in the US with heat in Fahrenheit) didn’t come with icing, so I had to use another of my pink cake mixes. Sorry folks tomorrow at church.

We are celebrating the 60th anniversary of Fr Lawrence’s being ordained as a priest, so some fancy refreshments are called for. Should I warn them to wear their sunglasses?

The museum is quite impressive, built of pressed earth and set in landscaped grounds with a lake. Inside the main exhibition space is large and I liked the full length window overlooking the locality (here featuring Bruce in silhouette).

The exhibition was Jeffrey Smart’s work (still claimed as an Australian despite living in Tuscany for the past 50 years). But I do like his work.

The large multiple-panelled work from the Art Centre formed the major item in the exhibition. But The Directors was my favourite.

Finally we got to take some photos outside the classroom. The photo below was taken in the passages out pride out room. The walls were adorned with student art and this was the background for our first shot, using class mates as models.

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I still think its blurry.

Then we went outside in the twilight and set out cameras for the lack of natural light and the type of lighting available.

Of course the best photos were of me as the model, but they aren't on my camera! This one was the best of my snaps, but I still think its blurry.

No one noticed that it was past 9 o’clock and the doors of the college had locked automatically. So we were trapped outside on Whitehorse Rd taking photos of passing cars – I’m sure the drivers thought we has speed cameras. Finally security arrived and let us in so we could collect our things.

I had also acquired a DVD about how to use the camera (which I had not opened) and thought it prudent to watch a bit of it, just so I had some idea where the buttons were and so as not to appear any more basic than I normally am. I watched about 20 minutes of this but the instructor went so quickly through all the bits that I thought I would be better off just going to the class. Having navigated myself successfully to the correct room at Box Hill Institute (no mean feat in the evening there) I am pleased to report that I followed the lesson easily (must have been very basic I hear you say) and can now remove a lens cap without breaking a fingernail. Stay tuned for more next week!

My friend left for Africa on Friday for nearly two years. Having stored most of her belongings, she decided to ‘bring a few things over’ and pack from the Vicarage. There are many items we take for granted and are freely available here, unknown in much of Africa. This includes many food items and additives including vegemite, Maggi-mix and Tim-Tams (that last one keeps away).

Duchess assisted in the packing process, offering her services a food taster and wresting open some Maggi packets open and spilt the contents over the living room floor. Wearing what appeared to be make-up, she greeted me at the door smelling of paprika.