Again, the Visitor's Chair...

First, today's Angel, that came to visit it seemed, and waited for me to get my camera. Only for one pic though!

This is partly the post I had intended to write the first time I was a visitor to the Hospital, while Gom was so ill, and having treatment.

I never did complete the first account, and now, after his third stay, I have decided to write of the latest Ward.

It somehow seem irreverent to be writing of things that made me amused or horrified, in turn.
It is not to laugh at other's misfortune, but rather to dispel some of the horror as we all know what can, or may, befall us, at the ending of our lives.

During his latest visit to Hospital, which was due to a phone call from a Haematologist on a Sunday morning, to tell us to get Gom immediately to Hospital, as his blood count was dangerously low at his latest test, which had been done on the Friday, he spent considerable time in the ED, while they cross matched his blood again, and waited for a bed in a Ward.

Because it was Sunday, the 'Teams' of Doctors for his ongoing condition, were not on duty, but the blood transfusions could be started.

When I returned after having to rest myself, I was directed to the new Ward.

At the risk of sounding rude, Gom seemed to be the only 'sane' person in residence. In fact the nurses kept telling him he should not be on that Ward.  The man in the bed opposite Gom, was of Arabic nationality I am guessing, (his wife was certainly very beautiful, in that lovely dark eyed way). I will call this man Yasmin, which is not his name, but one of the food service ladies dubbed him that, when she delivered his meals. I have no idea why, as his real name, displayed above his bed, bore no resemblance to 'Yasmin'.

I thought perhaps Yasmin had had a stroke, but apparently that was not the case. Gom learned, through the very public and loud conversations with Doctors, that he had some progressive disease, but was also now dying of cancer. He did not seem to speak much English, and he was very hard to understand. I felt really sorry for him, when he tried to speak to me, with his large, soft, sad eyes pleading to be understood. Nurses became somewhat impatient with him, as he refused to use his buzzer, and insisted on clapping loudly to gain attention. I pressed his buzzer for him, when he told me loudly "I need to pee!!"  Every day, his lovely wife came to feed him his evening meal, arriving with three course meals of delicious smelling food. He routinely refused the Hospital fare, which was completely crap not all bad, though some was not exactly tempting!

To Gom's left was a man who really resembled the Parrot from upon the Pirate's shoulder! I dubbed him Parrot, mentally. He shouted very loudly every time he spoke, and demanded the nurses bring him his "Potty". One nurse, who admitted to Gom that she has no patience, snapped at him regularly, telling him he could walk to the toilet, using his walker. He kept having the most hideous sneezing fits, which shook the very curtains, and then he would shout "Pull you head in!!" several times,  at the top of his lungs.
In between fits of sneezing, he told tales of choking people to death, and other preposterous stories, all of gory detail and horrible nature.

In the diagonally opposite bed, was a man who had MS, and he became agitated every so often, and his wife would sit and soothe him to calmness again. She told us he was waiting for a vacancy, in a Home , as she could no longer care for him herself. I felt very sorry for her, as she was having to sell their house, and was trying to ready it for viewing, whilst visiting him every day. All this, in searing heat, and exhausting humidity.

It is curious the way visitors make the acquaintance of each other, and the other resident patients. Hellos are said upon arrival, and farewells murmured at the end of the visit.

Yasmin would ask me the time each day, waiting forlornly for it to be 4.30 and the arrival of his lovely wife. Parrot would ramble on and on, with his stories and his sneezing attacks. Mr MS was very quiet, but would occasionally growl gutturally, perhaps because he was losing ability to speak.

Gom said the first night in this Ward was hideous. He could not sleep, and, though he is rather deaf, and would remove his hearing aids, he said there was constant talking. At first he thought it was Yasmin talking to himself, in two different voices, but he finally worked out it was Parrot, raving on, whereupon, Yasmin would answer him~ in Arabic! Of course none of it made sense, and Gom was surprised to realise they were both talking in their sleep, taking turns,  in an apparent 'conversation'. He wondered fleetingly if they could understand each other!

Parrot went away to some Home, late the second day, to Gom's relief, and another terminal man was briefly in the bed, but they whisked him off after a few hours~ still alive, I might add! An old and extremely frail old woman was immediately wheeled into the ward, and she actually appeared to be deceased when she first arrived. However the nurses roused her, and got her sitting up in a chair. Not quite truly sitting up, as she kept lolling her head onto her chest and sleeping. Her bed table was carefully positioned in front of her chair,  to prevent a fall to the floor.

Gom said she spent the night screaming at Yasmin, to "Shut up and go to sleep!!" as he spoke in his sleep.
The nurses had to hold her head up by the forehead to feed her, and she ate little but custard, jelly,  and juice, and having no teeth, I guess that is all she could do. I was quietly appalled, and hope I never get to that stage. She certainly appeared to have no quality of life, either being asleep or needing to urgently use the toilet, and failure to make it, made her very upset. She was querulous and sharp with the nurses, demanding instant attention, which of course, they could not give, being run off their tired feet.

Another woman was given Mr MS's bed in the corner, and apparently she was quite deaf, had no hearing aids, and had the television blaring at top volume all night. It rather worried me when I overheard a Doctor explaining something to her about a heart monitor, as it appears she has the same problem as I have just discovered I have.
She became insistent she wished to speak with her daughter by phone, then, when the nurse brought her the phone, she insisted she could not hear anyone, and her daughter was not there. The nurse had to relay her wishes. I wondered why no one has told her about hearing aids. She said she lives on her own, so perhaps there is no one to get furious at too-loud TV.

Gom could not wait to be discharged, and he held his breath most of the afternoon of his discharge, hoping to reach the magic number on his blood count, so he could escape.
He had had another 7 units of blood, and also some surgical procedures. We know he will be needing more.

I hope he does not return to that particular Ward next time.

We have just survived the hottest week on record, and also lived through the hottest night on record. It sent us scurrying off to buy another aircon for our bedroom. It is lucky the Southerly storm blew in on Sunday afternoon, bringing fierce rain and howling winds, as well as fresh, heavenly cool air!

As if all this has not been enough, our TV aerial has been doubtful read clapped for some time, and a fierce storm had blown it very crooked. Finally today we had a nice man come and install a new one! Guess what~ it now gives perfect reception, and the picture is once again crystal clear. Gom has little to amuse him,  but he can still watch TV if he sits almost upon the screen.

Perhaps the Extra Special Icing on our Cake, so to say, has been the complete bastard breakdown of our toilet cistern. I become furious with things that stop working. I want them fixed yesterday. I have wanted the wretched thing replaced, for the last 5 times we have had it repaired. This time my patience snapped, and we are about to get a new one! Who ever dreamed that one day I would be sublimely happy, at the thought of a new water cistern?

Our Neighbour, the Groom, who recently lost his Bride, came to visit this afternoon, to tell us he has had a stroke, and is now blind in one eye. He can no longer drive his car, and since he is a Horse Trainer, which has been his lifelong passion, he would hate to have to give up his work. He is still training his beloved horses, and is collected by relatives and friends each morning. He considers himself lucky to have had the clot stop at his eye, so he is not disabled or dead. He is over 80, so I felt a little ashamed when he said the alternative is not good, and I told him sometimes it seems damn attractive to me!

In the light of...

A long time since I posted here.
The blog lies tired, weary,  old, and mouldy.

In the harsh, and leathery, lined face, of Summer's harsh Season, we see the effects of too much sun.
Sere, best describes it all.
Too much extremely high heat.
Withering vegetation, browning, and dying, from lack of care, or water.

The rains of the early Summer have gone from our area of our State.

We watch with horror, as the deluges, and floods, and cyclones wreak havoc in our Northern, Queensland  State.
The floods of the flowing waters travelling South to our Southern State neighbours, have travelled an inland path.

Leaving us high and dry.

If only some of that vast amount of water could have been diverted our way, to fill our thirsty dams.


Our personal dramas are quietly ugly.
Not as hideous as our Neighbours, but nonetheless, horrible, for us to live through.

Gom has been Hospitalised again.
He is home once again, but is not, we know, fully 'Well'. Nor will he be.

Ongoing Hospitalisations are to be expected.

At least the Hospital is airconditioned and, whilst incarcerated therein,  he is comfortable, if somewhat bored.
I don't mind sitting 'watch', over him, as he has his blood transfusions, and his iron infusions.

I sometimes feel I have learnt more about the human body, and it's workings, since he has been sick,  than I ever did when I was nursing.

I have also learned that I need to listen to my body when I am feeling unwell.
I have been diagnosed with a problem myself.

It explains a lot, and I do not need to feel I am 'mentally unwell'. The diagnosis alone,  helps to get me feeling better. Medication is also helping with feeling better. I am assured once meds are adjusted, I should feel very much better.

In the light of the TV screen, as I watch Gom, hunching close, in a chair, I feel so much compassion for his failing sight, his failing hearing, and his slightly/occasional,  failing memory.

When he found out I too, am ill, he vowed to get better, and come home to take care of me!

In his last Ward, of Hospitalisation, there were many 'terminal' patients.
It has made me more determined not to get 'old' in that fasion, and I really do believe in Euthanasia by choice.

On a lighter side, I ended up in an area of the Hospital I was unfamiliar with- easily done, believe me, since they stuffed up redesigned our local Hospital!
As I was standing, feeling distressed and lost ~ lo~ an "Angel" came out of some wide doors.
I was swept into a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
It was a beautiful man, (a friend of our daughter, and son in law)  who drove me in his car, to the car park where I had my car.
The temperature was 40 degrees centigrade, and it meant I was spared a hot walk.

In my experience, Angels do come in many guises.

We have friends who have been so supportive. We know they are there, should we need their help.

The change in personalities from when Gom returned home after January 5th, to his 'new' persona, after this latest hospitalisation, is very disconcerting.

No one has answers for me.

 I can't help but wonder why??

No one has any answers for me.

These are the 'Thankyou Roses' Gom gave me, after his first, post New Year Hospitalisation, release.

My absolute favourites, yellow roses.

I have the feeling there will be no roses this time around. He is very disgruntled and very 'scratchy'.

This hideous heat is no help to anyone, and we are truly 'stewing in our own juice' so to say!



Neil Diamond, Babara Striesand, You Dont Bring Me Flowers Anymore.
(but he did, and surprised me)

The View from the Visitor's Chair.

This post, about the View,  has been composed and written, but alas, it will not be posted now.

I will post about the View from the Visitor's Chair, and the Smell from the Visitor's Chair, but not this evening.

Suffice to say, Gom is home, safe and reasonably 'Sound'.

His life was saved on Christmas Night.

Thanks are due to the wonderful care he recieved, and the dedication of Doctors and Nurses in our local Public Hospital.

I would also add, the Specialist Doctor who cared for Gom, was dedicated to his job. Every day, from 23rd of December, until Gom's discharge on 5th January, that Doctor visited Gom, to keep a check on his progress.
It seemed to be dedication over and above his calling, especially during the Christmas and New Year period.

Gom is much happier to be home, if not stronger, at least more comfortable, in familiar surroundings.

Now, we watch with horror, the unfolding events in Queensland, where our fellow country folk suffer untold grief and misery, enduring the hideous floods, and resulting devastation.

We remain far too warm, and dry. We have had much more rain than is usual for this time of year. But we have no floods, and no danger of floods.


Slim Dusty, When the Rain Tumbles Down In July. (Not strictly the correct time of year.)

An Angel's Golden Feather,

I am not sure if I really believe in Angels, but I think I do.

On Christmas Night, Gom was at death's door.

As I sat vigil, so fearful he would die, I looked out the window of his hospital room and say a golden curled feather, floating on the breeze? the updraft? the pull of the building?

I have no idea what kept the golden feather aloft, as it bobbed and floated before the window.

Up it came, and danced and floated, and slowly disappeared and reappeared.

It vanished for moments, and I thought of an Angel;s wing.

It was a feather from somewhere, that looked like no feather I had ever seen on any bird.

Suddenly, when I thought it had vanished, it reappeared, to dance it's little ritual dance all over again.

I felt curiously comforted.

I finally decided to leave the Hospital, and trust in the Staff, and, perhaps, a Golden Winged Angel,  to save Gom's life.

He was being tended by an Angel of a Nurse, who was the most gentle and caring person I have ever met. I hope I see her again.

He was saved, by whatever miracle, and forces,  and the hard work,  of wonderful Staff for the whole of that hideous night, as he hovered so close to death.

He made it through that awful night. He is still here, and I keep thinking of that Golden Feather.

We hope he will be home soon after New Year.

He is improving now, after another proceedure today, which seemed to go very well.

As you may guess, our Christmas is one we never wish to repeat.

Cat Stevens Tuesday's Dead.

Ratbags, and Libertytakers... And some weighty Skies!!

When I add pics to my blog lately, I seem to have trouble aligning the type. I wish to begin in the left, but the script refuses to obey, and orients to the center... regardless of my instruction.

Does anyone have an answer to this dilemma? Comments welcome!

Our long serving, and no doubt suffering Washing machine, has finally decided to quit. As it is now over 13 years old, it is deemed to be past it's actual "Use By".

Time was, you bought an expensive appliance such as this, and it would last almost a lifetime- or the length of your marriage, depending on which was shorter!!

Do you think the sky was sending some message? This was a slightly threatening look, before the breakdown of the washing device!!

 Is this a picture of a "Glowering Sky"? I have often wondered at that particular term, for skies!

And, later, as it darkened. Wonderful patterns.
I was not the only one to be out capturing this sky display. More than one neighbour was watching, and photos were taken.

As it darkened deeply, there was the flash and flare of bright gold, upon the horizon, echoing over the cloud canopy.
Not really menacing, but not quite comforting.

At the "Marketplace" today, determined to be Tough, and,  'wheel and deal'  ~well, I can kid myself I am tough, and astute!

We first enquired of a Seconds Establishment, thinking perhaps we could score the deal of the decade, with a ding or a scratch.

We looked at the offered products, discussed the merits and demerits of various washers.

I know Front loaders are said to be most economic. But I am now old and arthritic of body, so stooping to load and unload a Front Loader... I dont think so!!

An older Brand, trusted, and successful in the past, is now advised to be a costly, and faulty,  trap. Trading on past reputation for reliability.  No longer manufactured by the same people and no longer trustworthy, so we decided not to look in their direction.

The New Kid on the Block is a "Sumting", obviously not their real name! and we are advised it is excellent in both performance and reliability, to say nothing of durability.

For little discount, we are offered a dented and also paint scraped model, with a horrendous 'delivery fee'. I am taken aback.

I declare, I will look about, & see what is available, at rival retailers.

"By all means" beams the salesman, who has suddenly decided he could 'deliver the washer for a fee, of $15 less,  than their 'regular delivery man'. Which still meant $40.

So, off we sped, to another retailer, reknowned for their 'deals'.

"Oh Yeah!" thinks jaundiced me!

We find the exact same washer on offer for the same price as the 'Seconds'.?? what?, I thought dings and dents reduced the price?

Upon enquiry, I find I can have the washer delivered free, and installed, along with removal of the old washer, and it will arrive tomorrow, and it will be $115 cheaper than the damaged washer!

Wha????

Who is fooling who? I just do not get it. It does pay to shop around. But why am I left with the feeling someone has been fooling me.    Or, more probably, is still fooling me!

Still, I am just happy to think I can begin washing tomorrow! We are running out of clean clothes!

My son suggested going naked, but I know that is defininetly not a Good Look! Not this year, anyway!!

Mark Knopfler, Telegraph Road.

Life at the "Pointy End".

Or, should that be, 'Nose Cone'?

Whatever term you choose to use, I dare to state~ it is NO FUN, when you are 'Mature'!!.

I have recently had to resort to consulting a Podiatrist, to try to enable walking.

It seems my skeleton has much Arthritis, and my feet are afflicted.

Unlike my friend Ali, I have not had much success, with my podiatric treatment! (Is there such a word, as 'podiatric'?? I am too lazy to look it up on Google). I must add here, I have no idea if Ali's problems are arthritic.

I consulted with an Orthopeadic Surgeon, who gave me several options for surgery, and an option to consult with a Podiatrist.

Being a coward, I chose the lesser treatment.

The Podiatrist I was given the referral for, had a very unfortunate Rottweiller (to me)  manning the telephone. After being initially barked at, and told the exact amount of money I would need to front up with,  I timidly made an appointment, which I was subsequently unable to attend, due to other pressing health matters of Gom.

I hasten to add here, that I made sure to cancel the appointment in plenty of time. A holiday occurred in the meantime, also, so I did not have actual  vocal contact with the Rottie.

In the meantime, I needed to be shod to attend our Daughter's wedding. I chose soft, suede, flat, shoes. Almost slippers, I foolishly thought, on initially trying them on. Bliss! I foolishly thought.

What an idiot I was! they proved to be so crippling, I had to hobble to the car,  since I was the driver.  

These soft shoes, they look so innocuous! So comfy, so harmless! How could they cause such agony?! How could they cripple me, and almost reduce me to tears?

This is the offending foot. I would venture to say, it is a totally useless as a foot!! Never mind Footloose! How about Footless??

To cut to the chase, I chose another Podiatrist, after encountering the Rottie once more. This encounter led me to snarl, -in Rottie~like  manner, I might add- that I would "just Limp to Hell then!" I hung up.

I phoned another Podiatrist, - this being the 'Holding Paddock' one might say... you Kiwis will understand this... -there is no shortage of Podiatrists, here in our Local area.

The lovely receptionist was polite, pleasant, and most sympathetic. Soothing, in fact! A very quick appointment was arranged. A fee, half the Rottie's  Podiatrist, was quoted. ??
What is that about??

When I met the Podiatrist, he checked my Xrays, my gait, my pain levels. My ugly foot.
He fashioned this 'toe seperator'.
We have made many family jokes about the colour.. 'labia pink' being one. Another suggests folk might ask what my Bubblegum is doing, residing in between my toes?!! Haha, because I LOATHE bubblegum!! Or, indeed, any type of chewing gum there might be!

I am not sure the toe thingy is working. I have purchased some very expensive sandals, which are made for people with multiple problems, such as myself, . I will reserve judgement, but so far, the 'cures' have created other problems, with the fitted podiatrist insoles etc.

I do find all of this very discouraging~ as well as downright painful!

I would love to "Kick this Habit"!! haha.

However, there is always the Arrogant Morty to laugh at! Here he seems to be indignant at the fact I have dared to introduce a Sunhat into the house!!

And of course, here he is just letting us know, he Rules this house! And he will damn well lie where he chooses~ never mind if it is in the direct line of traffic to the toilet! Which, age would dictate, need not be hindered!!

And here is Honey, with her newly cropped Summer coat, courtesy of our Son~ & I. She is yet to be tidied, but I am sure she appreciates the cooler crop... raggedy though it might be!

And Leo, who tries so hard to be a 'good boy'. He has no idea, what being 'good' is! He is an indiscriminate piddler, and all our attempts to teach him about the niceties of polite society, seem to fall on deaf ears. 

It is sad, as he is a very intellingent dog, and a very loyal, affectionate,  and loving dog.

I guess, like our other family members, we have to accept him as he is. Warts- er, I mean pee- and all!

We had a 'street drama' a couple of nights ago.

I heard a dog screaming in  pain, & rushed out into the street to find a large vehicle had bowled a  neighbour's dog. A very small dog, who is non-road-savvy. I was upset, but the poor driver and his passenger were distraught. As it happened, I 'know' the little dog who was hit. She is 'road foolish'. She is a tiny black Poodle.

All is well, as she is alive, and almost recovered from the drama. I went to visit her this morning, and she is very well!

 Her owners are so glad she is alive and OK. They are normally so careful, but accidents happen.

It was nice to see, there were other neighbours, who were drawn by the cries, and all were concerned to see all was well.

We do have the most wonderful neighbours.

I will just limp off to bed now! haha. 

Chris Isaak, Somebody's Crying.

It is all in the Details.

I think, most of our lives are contained, right there, in the details.

You know the ones. They are never evident upon first inspection.

Then they seem to seep into consciousness, and finally become the significant items, or aspects, that they acutally ARE.

At first, we may notice them, in a secondary way. They are part of the Wallpaper, or the Background Buzz. The misty glimpse, off to the side... the Ghostly Peripheral.

As they pass, we are suddenly aware of how truly signicifant they were/are.

Our Daughter has recieved her "Official" wedding Album.

I would say, for the most part, it is lovely and all that they had hoped for.

However the "Ghosts" are somewhat disturbing, or unsettling.
We can clearly 'see' the apparitions.
Since our Son is an expert in the field of Retouching, we are acutely aware that these pics have been faked.

It begs the question, Why would somone do that to Wedding Photos?
Why would they play such cheap tricks?

*********
Morty is Officially "Naughty Morty". He has become a Neighbourhood Busybody.

He can be seen lolling about the street, on the heat of the tarmac, pretending he is on the Riviera, (or some Kitty Equivalent!)
Newly added Son In Law, was to be seen flapping his arms and shouting, all to no/little avail, to get Haughty Morty off the very road he, SIL,  was about to motor upon!
Morty just rolled over, then dashed off to hide under a wheel of vehicle parked on the side of the street.

SIL drove off, hoping the silly little feline did not choose to leap under his wheels!

Morty is now exploring the delights of the Newly Moved Neighbour's Three Story Boat!! This mighty edifice is parked on the newly owned front lawn, in place of much lovely, but now deceased,  vegetation. Sad to see lovely plants cut down in the prime. But Newly Moved Owners can do as they see fit!
The Three Story Boat, has an ostentatious name. It sits there, almost dwarfing the modest house, in which it's new owners dwell. It rather takes one's breath away, this Three Story Boat.

However, Morty will not be intimidated. I am assuming he chooses his moments, when he knows the owner-dogs will not be present. On the other hand he seems to be cat, who does not give a sh!t!! He is bold beyond belief! He visits our Catless neighbour, and boldly Meows from his terrace, as if he owns the place! Luckily our Catless neighbour does not mind at all.

The Owners of the Three Story Boat would seem to be lovely people. His dogs are certainly impeccably behaved! They are obedient, and wonderfully well mannered... (as opposed to our little demons, who are apt to bark inappropriately.)The man mows  Mr & Mrs NN's lawn, since learning of Mr N N's illness. We really do have the nicest Neighbours anyone could desire.

*******
Our Lovely Son fears he may have broken a bone in his foot, or worse, done tendon damage, after a leap into water, too shallow. The Xrays have proved inconclusive, but his pain is very real. The swelling is an evident detail. He awaits a 'higher' opinion. An expert reader of the 'details'. Two days before he learns the outcome of the Expert Reading. After we spent 4 hours waiting for some results...
I suppose 4 hours was short, compared to the 7 year wait for a knee replacement in the UK, a Podiatrist told me about!! And I have been told to expect 10 months! I feel very lucky!! (Or Not)

They do say , "The Devil is in the Detail".

Bread, Diary

No, Really!, I live in a Parallel Universe..and it is all GOOD!

You know the one... it has no arthritis, no ugly bits, and all is much the same, but without the pain. There are no dental dramas. No news of possible 'freaky diseases' with no known cause, and no known cure.
Or the fuzzy bits where the brain forgets the correct spelling for words.
HALP!! I ased to be such a good speller!!

These are some pics of my most loved beings on the Planet. I am sure they exist in my Parallel Universe, just the way they appear, here in this Universe!.

This Girl loves her Dad, who came through for her Wedding Day.

This is some random crap I came up with, while we sat in our Parallel Universe, waiting for the Thunderstorms to arrive. They did arrive, but my photographic record was NIL!
Of course, in the Parallel Universe they were all recorded in complete clarity, and somewhere out there, in Cyber Space, they glow!

Here is a loved Sister in Law, in a garden. SIL is a wonderful gardener, and her fingers and thumbs are so green, they are dazzling!! And luckily, she carries this talent into the Parallel Universe!! (Or from here-on, it shall be known as PU!)

Here, below,  are all people I love. Most of them are rellies, and some are Honorary Rellies. One is my Step Granddaughter, on the right. A Gorgeous, Sweet, Loving, Girl..
The Gorgeous Girl on the left in the pics is an Honorary Granddaughter. A part of our loved family. Hi Jas!!XX
And next to her, is my Gorgeous Granddauther, who has been so kind, and so caring for me ove the past few weeks. Love You Gorgeous Girl!!

These people are loved dearly and they are the NN"s,  and Family.

OMG! I forgot how to spell Tuesday?? This is a real worry. This does NOT happen in the Parallel Universe I really live in. In that Unieverse, I can still spell.

In that Universe, I have not gone quietly crazy, trying to deal with all the dross and crap that life hands us all, in due time.

My teeth are still perfect, and I have no issues with strange oral diseases. or denture fittings. I am still able to walk freely, with no broken rib, and no fecked knee, or foot.

The folks- read Specialists!-  I have to see, to sort out these 'wrinkles' are not nasty, nor do they have 'guard dogss' on their phones, who are even nastier!!.

In this Universe, the problems all have solutions.

In this Universe, I am singing and dancing.   With no 'flat notes' and no 'faltered steps'. Mrs NN and I are dancing up & down the street "Naked"!! in this PU.! We love it!!

Trust me, we have discused this scenario, & all it's gaudy minfestations. I think we have decided to wait another five years before we actully do it!!

One might be thinner, but heaven forbid the other is thinner!! We trust she might 'fatten up'!!

All good for laughs in the Parallel Universe!

Wasn't It Good. Tina Arena

Angels.

I really do believe in Angels.
On this day My Angel was born, so Happy Birthday Sweet Daughter J.

On Saturday 6th of November 2010, our Angel got married to her Sweetheart, of 10 years.
They celebrated in a Park in a simple ceremony tailored to their wishes and their circumstances.

Though Gom is ill, he was able to walk his daughter down the path to be married.

There was a photographer for the ceremony, but we had forgotten about 'Leaving Home'.

Our Angel Neighbours, Mr & Mrs NN came to the rescue, with a video, and also photos.

Here is the Bride leaving in her brother's rather special car.

Such a proud Groom. He had the biggest smile I have ever seen and it lasted all day.

 Here they are with their proud Son our SG. He looked so nice in his suit and he was so proud to read a poem with the Celebrant.

 Nerves were apparent, for our Daughter J.

It was a very unseasonably cool day. It had poured with rain for the preceding hours, but fined up in time to dry most of the worst wetness off the grass.

The "Mums" bore Witness, in front of their offspring.

A Sand Ceremony was performed, for the blending of the two families.

Their happiness warmed the cool Park.

And Meggie and Gom managed to stay quite late.

                                                           

We left the party just after this photo was taken. The rain had returned and Gom was very chilled.

Angels had ensured that the rain stayed away for the Park Ceremony, and the serving of the Buffet Meal. It later rained, but there was a Marquee, and a Jukebox and much fun was had by all.

I would like to thank my wonderful Angel Neighbours, Mr & Mrs NN and my Beloved Brother for these photos. The official ones wont be ready for some time, but I think these have captured the happiness very nicely.

Woo Hoo. We are having SG for a few days while the Newlyweds go off to Honeymoon in seclusion at a Resort. Our wedding gift to the Happy Couple.

This song was played before the wedding.

Nick Cave Breathless

How many grains of sand...

Shamelessly borrowed from websites, advertising for tourism. I hope I am not breaking any laws, or upsetting any businesses. The Bay of Plenty is a wonderful place to visit, and, a wonderful place to grow to maturity!

This is a pic of the spit of the Mount.

This view, here below, taken from the top of the Mount, looking South, or more realistically East South East,  depicts the Blowhole, with Motiti Island in the more distant background. I hope these give some perspective, to my story and the pics I have posted here.

 Of course here is the Mount, beloved by young teenagers, of my day,  as a 'Conquest'! We would walk our way around and up this Mount, and view the surroudings, and feel triumphant, at having achieved such a feat.
There might have been a hug or two on the way up... even a kiss perhaps.

When we were young school children, we would be bussed from our home town school, for a Picnic Day at the foot of the Mount. There was so much sand! Which I now consider in a different light!!
There were Donkey Rides. Poor docile Donkeys, they were so patient and long suffering.

I happened to notice, a strange item of news, while I was perusing a  Newspaper site, of the New Zealand Herald . It concerned this  beach of my childhood.
A beach, which featured in a large part of my growing/maturing  years.

The 'beach', (which perhaps should be known as Beaches),  is Mount Maunganui, and it has a small Mount, at the end of a spit of land, as in my nicked pic. One side opens onto the Ocean, and the other, is the Harbour side, which is calm, sheltered, and waveless.
It was an ideal beach destination when we were all ages, since the Harbour side was mostly shallow, and ideal for small children to learn to swim or just paddle.

The Ocean side, was where we went to surf the waves and swim in the sometimes,  mighty breakers of foam, as they hurled themselves endlessly to the sandy shore.

I have previously posted this picture of myself, on the left,  and a little friend, Norma, - we still keep in touch today. In the background can be seen, what I think, is either Motiti Island, or the Mount.

This was taken at approximately the same location, as the first photo, but this time I have 'grown up'. I was a trainee nurse, and much of our spare time was spent at the beach!

Looking at the pic, to the left is the Blowhole, and Motiti Is.  is once again in the background.

This next was taken in a rock hollow at the Blowhole, which we frequently visited to watch the water blast up through the hole in the rock.. I can remember the name of my companion, but I am wondering who took the photo?? I have no idea, as I felt just the two of us made the trip, on one of my days off. Obviously not the same day as the bright photos.

This is rather chilling, as it would seem to be in almost the exact location of the "Bones on the Beach" photograph featured in the Postcard. It was taken on the same day as the standing photo, on that grey sand.

Somehow this is horrible to see. I was intrigued/saddened/horrified,  by the postcard, and the accompanying article in the NZ Herald.

I somehow found this unutterably sad.

I do not have any religion, but I do feel much respect, for those of us who have gone before. I have many Maori friends, who were 'local',  and I am so shocked to think we were never made aware of this event. None of my family have any memory of this happening. I am surprised to think it was not local folklore. Why did no one tell us? I feel crass, somehow, not to have been aware.

I find I think of the grains of sand, and how they are filled with the grains of our beloved, who have gone before.

After all, we are all one!

Tina Arena, Now I Can Dance. I LOVE this song!!

Comforts...or are they?

Much is written these days about so called "Comfort Foods".

I know I am somewhat of a freak, when it comes to my choice of "Comfort Food".

Chocolate has never been my choice. Offer me a Chocolate, or a Grilled Cheese dish, ~and Grilled Cheese will win every time!

Or better still, offer me Cheese and a Flaky Pastry, plus, perhaps an onion/combination,  and I am gone! My "Ultimate Swoon" Food!

Offer me a steak, I will shudder. But offer me fish, of almost any type, and I will be transported with delight.

I am not mad about Mussels, nor Pauas. Pipis, or Cockles,  I can take or leave- these days preferably leave! Though in our young days we would -cruelly, I am ashamed to admit- bit the 'toungues' off the raw Pipis as we dug them out of the sand.
I am appalled now, to think of this hideous act, and I wish I could apologise to every Pipi I maimed, or wounded!

I do love a rich Vegetable Soup, and I love Barley as an ingredient for any Soup. Comfort Food indeed, to my palate.

Potatoes score high in comfort food lists, and any method of cooking them, meets with my approval.

Something I do find, of late, is a love of salt.

I suspect this is not a good thing. Salt, tends to make one's aging body retain fluid, which is not desirable for many reasons. Fluid retention, and Heart disease, being two of the major "No No's"

Given the choice between a few chocolates, or a bag or two of Potato Chips, or Crisps, and you can have the Chocolates, I will take the the Chips or Crisp- call them what you choose.
Those awful yellow "Cheese" snacks? Let me have them~ salt and all!

I do love Asian style dishes, with the sweet/salty/sour tastes, and I tell myself the vegetables are extremely healthy! And the delicate Seafoods,  which go so well with the wonderful salty, soupy, dishes, of Asian influenced Cuisine.

I love noodles, and find them to be Comfort Food Central

, to me. I adore Rice Noodles especially. But then, I also love just plain Rice!

I also have a love of Macaroni Cheese, a hangover from my childhood, when I loved my Grandmother's Mac Cheese more than any other food. And next day, sliced cold, it was devine!!

I still love Pasta, and regard it as a Comfort Food.

Do you have a Favourite Comfort Food?

Neil Diamond, Porcupine Pie. I know, I have posted this before, but I still love this version.

Treats

The evening comes tinged with pink edges, a seeming promise of a fine, and perhaps,  beautiful day tomorrow.

A treat from over the sea. This lovely little hanging, bringing sweet sentiments and the love of friendship. So very sweet. Thankyou Jane, of Marigold Jam.  Do  check out this blog, she writes the most delightful posts.

Another free treat for me, was an email message from another Blog friend. It is amazing how much better support can make one feel, even if it comes from cyber space, and caring friends unmet, in the flesh.
Thankyou Mary, you are a treasure.


****************

This, for me, was a treat to make. I have been trying to summon the Mojo to help me create this promised item, for my Dear Daughter J.
Yesterday the Mojo came home, and I made the complete item! I was so happy, and so is my daughter. It looks a little cream in the pic, but is actually Ivory. The lace is an old treasure I had kept and we found the perfect ribbon, along with some lovely velvet ribbon, also among my treasures.

I really did enjoy feeling like sewing again!

We have a very nice neighbour, who recently lost his 'Bride' of many years. He is now 80 years old, and is a remarkable man. He still rises every morning at 4am to go to train his horses. He says he doesn't know what he would do with himself, if he didnt still train the horses. He told he he takes flowers to the Bride's grave to celebrate her birthdays.
I had asked if he could remove a Privet, which had grown wild among his Bride's lovely Azaleas. Apart from being ugly, the Privet gives me severe hayfever.
As good as his word, he got his Grandson to remove the Privet yesterday, after having borrowed a saw from Gom. The Bride once told me that her Groom would not know one end of a hammer from the other!

That may be true, but he sure can train some winninging horses!

Blogger is infuriating me beyond endurance this morning.
I began this post last evening, and found it impossible to upload photos, due to 'maintenance'.

This morning, I had a little better luck, but simply can not upload 2 more photos I had hoped to add.

Gom is out in the kitchen, doing unthinkable things to the bench and other assorted items. I am trying so hard to remain in here, away from it all. I figure what I don't see, won't hurt me!

I am off out this afternoon, hopefully for some retail therapy, with my Dear Daughter. She is shopping for a bra. Never an easy task, and the last shop she tried, (which boasted it can fit any figure,) ridiculously told her they don't stock her size, but she could buy an extension to make one fit! WTH?? She is a perfectly normal, average size?
I need some pretty, comfortable,  sandals, since I can no longer wear heels and so wish us both luck!







Gomez, How We Operate.



Not Keeping the Balls in the Air.

So many missed opportunities for pictures! So many milestones to mark!
It seems I have missed most of them.

Where have I been? Where has my wandering mind been?

This is SG, Small Grandson, 'Almost Eight', which is a pretty special Birthday, after all. He came to share it with us, and he was so excited by his gifts and the magnificent Chocolate Cake his father made!!

Shockingly, I dont have the 'Now I Am Eight!' pics.

Nor do I have the wonderful Choccy Cake, made by Dad! pics.

Where was the camera? What was I thinking?

I was off on Planet Numb, I suspect, wandering about, bewildered, and lost.

I have no idea where most of this month has gone.

If anyone finds my Sewing Mojo, please send it back to me, as I really need it now, to complete something I promised to have made, before November.

I received a lovely little hanging, of which I don't have photos to show. Hangs head in shame. I promise I will have them for the next post.

My juggling all seems in vain, & the balls all fall at my feet.

However, I am not resisting the temptation to say, "What the hell?",  look at the balls lying there, & just walking away.

After all, if they need to be in the air, I am sure someone will throw them up. Or not.

Morty has been a true CAT. He refuses to remain an indoor cat, and I swear he gives us 'the Finger' now & then!
He is a rude, arrogant cat. He comes running indoors to yowl and talk, only to run off again, when I try to answer his queries, and set his mind at rest.

He adopted a shabby cardboard box his choice of 'slumber slot' in the evening, beside my chair.

Well, he has lost it now. He caught a poor little bird, and sneaked it into the house.
The first we knew of it, was some thumping, and leaping noises. When I went to investigate, I found the poor little critter, cowering in a corner of a bedroom. I rescued the little creature, and took it to the local Vet. I hope it will recover. It did not seem mortally wounded, though it was missing a few feathers.

I used Morty's Slumber Box, to transport the hapless dove. Morty is getting another, large, bell for his collar!

My little dog Honey is quite jealous and disliking of Morty. However, most mornings, I find Honey on one side of my legs, on the bed, and Morty, on the other side.
It seems a truce is reached in the night.

Would I could reach such harmony in my days.

Janis Ian, In the Winter.