Lorn, well-manicured

Lorn is a tidy, leafy little suburb right on the other side of the river from us; you can see rooftops from our kitchen if you leap a little (and are utterly starved for activity.)
It's noticeably fancier than Horseshoe Bend, I must admit; Lorn is fairly riddled with "Federation gems", in real-estate parlance:

It's remarkably intact, architecturally, and some streets could be mistaken for Mosman or Woollahra in Sydney – without too much squinting and at a fraction of the price.

Inevitable downside: If the area does flood again – unlikely as that is – Lorn goes first.

Insert schadenfreude here.

Today Mick and I embarked upon an unsuccessful trip to Lorn's butcher (too late), which Mick insisted start in East Maitland:

Sounds like a multinational arms dealer-cum-cosmetics giant, doesn't it? Or perhaps a dietary supplement concern...

In fact, it's a lighting store in East Maitland (Mick needed little radio bulbs).
I bet you any money the name Cetnaj actually has something to do with the wife's name being Jan and the kids' names starting with T, E and C.
Or something.
Terrible business name.

Never mind, we took advantage of a beautiful day – with Suzi in the backseat – and went the long way to our destination. As such, we did pass some noteworthy sights.

First, the work-in-progress boat that's been there as long as we can remember (three years or so):

Every time I see it, it looks more forlorn.
I like to think of it as an art installation, perhaps with its formerly high-flying owner trapped inside, suspended in formaldehyde.

And then we saw some brand-new arrivals – candy-coloured livestock:

The purpose of which is up for grabs. (A Mardi Gras tie-in is possible but unlikely.)

After the butcher disappointment, the sight of the business practically next door to it was a genuine surprise and greatly appreciated.

Presenting the Lorn franchise of Vile & Vile Solicitors:

They should really go national.