Laps of my brain..

This is a 'Local'. He was just lying about on our path yesterday, in the garden, while the rain was briefly stopped, & the dogs were slumbering inside, unaware he was out. He might be a she, but I have no way of knowing. We usually have Blue Tongue Lizards come for the summer, but they didnt arrive last year. We have had some good heavy rain, most of last night, & today. More is forecast. It seems lovely to be having the rain, & these cooler days, at this time of year. The garden is almost visibly growing. I swear the dandelions that Gom mowed down yesterday morning, have sprung up to mock him!

Eeny Meeny...

Remember playing that game, as a child, to decide which choice to make? Or whose turn it would be, next.

Eeny Meeny Miney Moe. A Scottish friend used to play One Potato, two potato, with her sons. I had never heard of that one, until I met her. We also used to say Ink pink, pen & ink, etc. when we were at school.

Games children play, come & go over the years. I was around 10 or 11 when Hula Hoops first burst onto the market. What a huge craze they created. Everyone wanted one, & hours would be spent, out on the lawn in my case, trying to get that damn hoop to remain up around my waist for more than one or two rounds. Once mastered it was a matter of timing & balance. Do they still make them?

I remember knuckle bones, -which I think may be called 'Jacks'? in some countries. The first ones I ever met were the sheep knuckle bones. Real bones from real sheep knuckles. It seemed grim somehow, & then some enterprising toy maker thought to make them in plastic & there were metal ones too, which could be a little harsh on skinny little knuckles.

Marbles were also 'big' when I was in the Primary classes. What lovely colours they were! There were glass marbles, with lovely coloured centres, in very bright colours. Or the solid milky glass, with variegated colours. Then came the plastic marbles in all sorts of colours that looked rather like the shavings from pencil sharpenings, or little confetti bits. I loved all the colours. They were, of course, currency, & the games played were deadly serious, & woe betide anyone who welched on paying out after a loss. It was a lynching matter!!

I had a little dark haired boy friend, & he used to sit next to me on the mat. He would save his prettiest marbles for me, & give them to me, as we sat on the mat, waiting for story time. His name was Donald Kelly, & he had a wild Irish look to his rugged dark haired little face. He had a fierce older brother who had hair aflame, & piercing blue eyes, that frightened the life out of me. He also had a dark haired, dreamy sister, & another red haired brother. They were notorious for being 'tough'. Donald was never other than gentle & kind to me, & I just adored him at 7 years of age.

I never used the marbles I had for currency. I was no match for the boys or the girls, who played to win. I just loved the colours, & the form.

I still had Dark Donald's marbles for many years, tucked away in a little wooden box of old treasures. I have my old leather satchel from my last days at School. I have kept it all these years, & use it to store old papers, & small treasures. Once Gom asked my why there were two marbles in the box in the bottom of the satchel. They were Donald's gifts from long ago. I dont have them now, I suppose my kids got hold of them & lost them.

One thing I do have in the little box in the satchel, is a perfect tooth. It was knocked out of Gom's jaw, -who was Happy Young Publican Husband, then- by a flying cricket ball, that hit him fair in the mouth. The only reason I have it, is because he went back & found it, in the grass, & threatened to have it made into a pendant/necklace. I was so appalled I hid it from him, so he couldn't do anything so grotesque.

A trip to the hospital on the Sunday, it happened, resulted in permanent damage, because they didnt replace the tooth, or repair the damage. HYPH had to have his bottom teeth all removed 2 weeks later.

Our 'baby' was 6 months old when that happened. She will be 38 on Sunday. Sometimes it seems that can't be possible. Where the hell have all the years gone!

My beloved Nephew is 28 years old today. Happy Birthday, you big, lovely, man!

In the laps of my brain, I have been feeling little ripple shock waves.

I dont like to 'whine'- in fact, I am not. A biospy I had done, did not yield the result either I or the Doctor expected.The result was not cancer, but the type was one which apparently does turn cancerous. How curious. It was just vanity that prompted me to want it removed. Even the Doctor agreed, it was harmless. We were both surprised by the result. It is gone now, so good riddance. There is another curious factor, so that remains to be investigated, & of course, I keep wondering about it.

For some weird reason I have hives. Who, knows what that is about. I suppose I have to return to see about that, before I claw all the skin off patches of me!! Yes, I have creams, I have taken medication. Now it is elimination I suppose to try to find out what the trigger is. I am sick of being a "sicketty", as we used to say!! I think the answer is more laughter, ...that is what I need!

Thinking of tooth gnashing, groaning lame, humour laughter, we watched 'Evan Almighty' today. All I can say is, if you are looking for laughs....good luck. Just not my type of humour.

The secret life of your body! When we are young we take so much for granted. We are mainly, totally unaware of it all, just carry on living & working, playing. It is a surprise to find aches & pains. Like most humans, I believed, it is 'never going to happen to us'.

Why Oh Why !!!?!! Why Do We Have To Have Cricket!!!??!! It is an abomination!!

This lame excuse for a post is why I haven't - ...

Ottmar Liebert, Temple Dawn, ultravivid clouds. For Bluemountains Mary.

So soothing!

Wait & See

When I got up this morning, at the urging of Leo, I opened the curtains to view the day. The world outside the kitchen window was rainwashed & fresh looking.

As I opened the lounge curtains, & looked East, this is what I saw. Just as the sun was rising. To me it looks rather like a painting... perhaps one of those old religious gloom & doom skies?? If I was to try to paint it, I would take out the ugly ever-present blasted telephone/power poles! Hideous! But of course the services they bring are so necessary. When we lived down in Sydney, we lived in a suburb with underground wiring- so much more attractive, not to have to see the poles, marring the scenery. Those black clouds rolled on by, & the clear patches took over. But then the black won, & we had more rain. Then more rain! Great gushing swatches of rain! Finally around 2pm, a veritable cloudburst!

A visiting friend got soaked in 3 seconds. After 5 minutes the rain had once more stopped, & the sky lightened, & it became steamy, as we ventured out for luxuries like potatoes, bread & dog food.



This is a photo of another of Mrs Nice Neighbour's lovely little gardens. She creates the most lovely enticing little scenes, & uses succulents which are very hardy & take little maintenance. I am always amazed to see her eye for balance & detail. I hope there are Fairies in this world. I am sure this is where they live, should they exist!!

This next pic is a photo Mrs N N took of another neighbour's new plant he has been nurturing. He is a very generous man, who is a Horticulturist, & is in fact, the lovely neighbour who gave us our beautiful cream Clivea. (Which incidentally can be spelt either Clivea, or Clivia. They are native to South Africa, & were name after a Lady Clive.)

I dont know what this flower is, I had it pegged for a Warratah, which is the New South Wales State flower, but on looking at it again, I rather think it is something else, perhaps in the Protea family? I am sure someone out there- Alice?- can set me straight.

Whatever it is, it is a very interesting plant & flower. I really should pay a visit to enquire as to what it is, seeing I have taken the liberty of posting a picture of it on here.

I had fully intended to spend today sewing. Best laid plans & all that! Famous last words...all those cliches. Which do tend to often cancel each other out, haha.

I have been spending time in the Blogi/o/a/e/usphere,(please insert vowel of choice!) laughing & reading & learning.

At Anna's of Thimbleanna, I found a slightly teasing post directed to Kim, & there were wonderful recipes!This site has detailed pictures & truly delish sounding recipes! It is the Pioneer Woman Cooks, & this recipe in this link, is to die for!

It is ok Kim, if you are reading this , I dont think this would frighten you!! I have not tried it yet, but I sure do love olives.

See what I mean by Wait & See?? I never know where these posts are going to lead me.

Which does lead me to a question, or something I have been debating with myself.

I keep getting suggestions along the lines of writing a book. I must confess the idea does appeal. I always used to joke, when living in Hotels, & enduring "Life's Free Treats" or perhaps "Life's Frightening Tricks" , that one day I would 'write a book about all this'.

I have many stories of, shall we say, slightly saltier, spicier, characters, & events which I hesitate to include here, for the sake of 'public non-offense'. Should I decide to write a book, I would feel I could include some of these more 'bawdy', or 'indelicate', or even sad, or dispossessed, characters.

I will have to think about it all some more. Plus there is the fact, that I would not know, how to go about approaching someone- who?? - to get a MS even considered??

Any tips,? suggestions? Clues?

Or you could be brutally honest, & tell me why it could never work?!

Fleetwood Mac, Albatross, for Mary.

Tea & Scones.

I have been thinking about 'social niceties'. Acceptable behaviour in company. The variety of 'faces' used for differing circumstances.

Today is Melbourne Cup day here in Australia. For those who may not be aware, Melbourne Cup is a horse race, the Cup is the prize- along with hefty wads of prize money, to say nothing of the Prestige, of being the winner of the Race.

In fact the running of the Melbourne Cup generally stopped the whole country of New Zealand, also, for the duration of that one magic race. The winner has been a New Zealand horse, on more than one occasion. The Kiwi breeders were reknowned for their horses. A small town not far from by birthplace, Cambridge is beautiful, & known for it's beautiful racing Stables, & Studs.

I am not much of a horsing person. Not given to worry about it. Never interested in the gamble of horse races. Of course when we had our Hotel life, we always ran sweeps in the bars, always had a 'little flutter' to keep the interest going.

We would have huge crowds in the Hotel, to watch the running of the Cup. It always generated a great atmosphere, & there would be groans or cheers as the winners were announced & the Sweepstake winnings were collected, -and frequently spent!

We would usually watch with friends, gathered in the bar. We had a group of friends who regularly came together for Friday night drinks, & some laughs. We were a mixed bunch, Gom & I proprietors of the Hotel, a Barrister, a trotting Horse trainer & farmer, a Managing Director of a Printing house, with his wife, an elderly retired man or two. Other Friday night couples who came to spend an evening with us.

The Barrister & his mate the Trotting Trainer had been friends from school days. They were like Chalk & Cheese, not only in their personalities, but also in their physical differences. Bas, as I shall call the legal eagle, was chubby & dark of hair, masses of curly hair, brown twinkly eyes, with a ready smile & a huge belly laugh. Chas, as I shall call the trainer, was of slight tall build, with barely any hair left on his head, what there was, thin, & blonde. His eyes were blue with that slightly faded look, from working out on the track, with his beloved horses. Not given to laugh easily, but when he did, he everyone heard it.

These two friends never seemed to have any serious girlfriends in those days. Both claimed to be waiting for the 'right one.' In Chas' case, he rarely left his farm, except for visits in to the city on Friday nights. He didn't get much chance to meet girls. As for Bas, well I suspect his intellect left many girls somewhat intimidated.

They did, however have a mutual girl friend, who seemed to equally keen on both young men. I am certain had one made a serious play for her, she would have been his. I will call her Claire. Claire was a tall dark haired girl, who was always immaculate. She dressed like a model, had a figure to match, & spoke with the very posh accent her Extremely Exclusive Boarding School had given her. Claire never had a hair out of place, her makeup was perfection.

Claire was the only daughter of parents who had left their run for parenthood until late in their lives. I suspect she felt she was an accident, in her parents otherwise unflawed lives, which had been spent travelling about the world, enjoying using their seemingly huge family fortune. Claire always referred to her mother most scathingly as 'That Rich Old Bitch'. I suspect her father had been so old he was dead, by the time we met her.

I always had the feeling that Claire could never quite forgive them for having her so late in their lives. I think she felt unwanted.

Claire's intellect would have been a match for Bas any day. She was an extremely clever girl, & had achieved high academic qualifications. In fact sometimes I felt even Bas was a little in awe of her.

Claire had a flaw. Her nickname among the 'boys' was 'Tea & Scones'.
Tea & Scones, because she had a mouth on her that made hardened men blanche in the pub! Turn appoplectic in shock, at words such as she used, pouring forth from her immaculate, beautifully made up face. Almost every second word she uttered was f&*k! Or words relating to. All uttered in her beautifully modulated, posh Upper Crust Boarding Shcool accent.

As the lads said, they could not have risked taking her home to meet "Mother". As "Mother" offered her tea & scones, she would likely burst forth with language the like of which "Mother" may never have heard. "Hah fecking scones eh? What bloody sh!te type of Tea is this F$%&*g swill then!"

"Tell you what, how about getting out the F&%$g whisky? Give us a real drink!"

The endless scenarios they would paint, at the thought of taking Claire home to meet the family. She once brought her aged tottery mother to the Hotel to meet Bas & Chas. Her mother was dressed in one of those old Fox Stoles, complete with head & tail, of the hapless animal, draped over her suit. Her stockinged spindly little legs ending in her slim aristocraticly narrow feet carefully wedged into ludicrously high heeled shoes. Leaning on a sliver tipped walking stick.

Tea & Scones proceeded to cus & swear in her usual manner, much to the surprise & alarm of all who watched. " It is ok" she said, "That Rich Old Bitch is deaf! She is too vain to admit it, wont get a hearing aid! Feel free to swear at her!"

Thankfully, no one did. So Claire took her off out again, & drove her off in the family Daimler.

Last I heard of Tea & Scones she had actually married, & had 2 children. I hope she is happy.

Bas is married, but sadly -or not- Chas remains a bachelor.

*****
This is a view last evening from our balcony. I had hoped the Jacaranda would show brighter than they have in this rather dull looking photo. There is a huge Magnolia tree there too, & it's perfume is a joy.

Someone asked how long the Jacarandas flower. They are at their best for about a fortnight, & as the blossom is shed the leaves come out. Which is why the blossom looks so pretty when it is all out, & there are no leaves to cover their glory.


Ottmar Liebert, Nuevo Mexico

Please to remember..

"Please to remember,
the 5th of November,
Gunpowder, Treason, & Plot.

I see no reason,
Why Gunpowder Treason,
Should ever be forgot."


As a child, growing up in New Zealand, we used to mark the occasion of 5th of November. It became known as Fireworks night, or Cracker night, or, if you are of Gom's vintage & heritage, Bonfire Night.

Our Grandmother, who was English, told us the story of Guy Fawkes. This next passage is taken from Wikipedia.
'Guy Fawkes (13 April 1570 – 31 January 1606), was a member of a group of English Roman Catholics who attempted to carry out the Gunpowder Plot, an attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament and kill King James I of England, to destroy Protestant rule by killing the Protestant aristocracy, on 5 November 1605.'
Guy Fawkes Night (also known as Bonfire Night) is an annual celebration on the evening of the 5th of November. It celebrates the foiling of the Gunpowder Plot of the 5th of November 1605 in which a number of Roman Catholic conspirators, including Guy Fawkes, attempted to blow up the Palace of Westminster.
And;
"It is primarily marked in the United Kingdom, but also in former British colonies including New Zealand, parts of Canada, and parts of the British Caribbean.[citation needed] Bonfire Night was also common in Australia until the 1980s[citation needed], but it was held on the Queen's Birthday long weekend in June.
Festivities are centred around the use of fireworks and the lighting of bonfires."


Our Grandmother told us that when she was a child living in England, the children would build a huge bonfire, & would make effigies of Guy Fawkes- hence the word guy, meaning a figure of ridicule or fun- and the children who lived in towns & cities would run about the streets calling for a 'penny for the Guy.'

As many of us in New Zealand were descended from the British Isles, Inhabitants, we continued with the tradition. I never built a guy or went door to door. Rural centres didn't bother with that tradition. Well, not in my northern Island little town. But Gom tells me they did, as children, & would plan their carts, & guys for weeks in advance. They would all get together & have a huge bonfire, which was lit once darkness fell- which could be quite late in the night, the further South you lived.

Purchased 'crackers' & fireworks would be lit, & set off. Rows of small Chinese crackers known as 'bangers' would be thrown at each other, & it was deemed to be all good fun. In my childhood we never attended large bonfires, but usually our Uncle would construct a bonfire, with our assistance, & our mother would find money to buy a few crackers or rockets, & other slightly 'exotic' fireworks, which would be carefully set off by the adults present.

I remember being rather frightened of the fireworks, & heeded all warnings to steer clear. Boys on the other hand, tended to love to play with the fireworks, & would set them off well before the November 5th date. Often with terrible consequences. Eyes were lost, some children lost limbs digits, or suffered hideous burns.

A lonely woman campaigned to have Bonfire night severely curtailed, & succeeded in getting sales of fireworks restricted. I had thought her name was Beverly Pentridge, but I can find no reference to her name on Google, & nothing in connection with her campaign to have restriction enforced. New Zealand still has the date recognized though I would doubt many children know the origin of the occasion today.

Because of the fire danger here in Australia, we dont have Bonfire night. There is a celebration, usually a public display only, on 4th July. I wont make any facetious remarks about politics here. Private fires are now banned because of fire danger, as are privat fireworks displays.

Happy Birthday, Andrew, whereever you are.

Joni Mitchell, The Last Time I Saw Richard

Breathtaking Blue

After 3 days of rain, -much needed- & grey skies, yesterday was windswept, blue & sunny.

This beautiful old Jacaranda tree grows in the front garden of an old house, the grounds of which are weed covered, & neglected. Every year, this beautiful tree blossoms in a rich opulent spread of purple, which is almost obscene in it's wealth of bloom.
I have been wanting to take a photograph for a week. When the rain came, was about when it peaked at the height of it's perfection. Of course, I missed the opportunity, & yesterday was my first chance to try to capture the beauty.

It grows at the side of the Pacific Highway, & is much admired each year, & often discussed. I hate to think, that when the old house finally is sold, some developer will buy the place, & this lovely old tree will be taken down.


An errand at a shop, which is adjacent to the railway yards, prompted me to take a pic of the sheer ugliness of the yard.

The hill in the background is above the Hospital, & on the right of the pic, if you click on it, to enlarge it, you can see the windsock on the Heli Pad of the hospital. One year some idiots lit fires in the bush up on the hill, which of course endangered the Hospital.

This yard is full of machinery for track maintenance, at present. I wished I had a zoom feature on my camera, to show the old rusty wheels, on one of the frames above the tracks. Those old frames date from the first railway to open, & it is a wonder they are still standing when I look at the state of rust.

This is the main line to points north, on the East Coast of New South Wales, & on up to Queensland. All North & Southbound Passenger trains stop at this sad looking station. Certainly no beauty to be seen at the actual station! This dishevelled yard is just north of the actual Station.

As I stood in the car park, I turned my gaze to the East, & saw this lone Norfolk Pine, reaching up to the blue sky, & the puffy white clouds. A contrast after the ugly rail machinery!
*******

I have just been over at Ian's "Or so I thought", reading an interesting post about 'Faking it'.

He asked the question have you ever Faked it? in the sense of pretending to have read some book, seen some movie, or some other item that is 'hot' & it seems everyone but you has read/viewed/or listened.

In the arrogance of youth I once drunkenly argued discussed the merits of a drummer called Gene Kruper. I had/have no knowledge of the person, have probably never heard any of his drumming & had only briefly heard him discussed by someone who was probably even less informed than I was, in matters musical!

Why would I do this? Who knows. I suppose I was wanting to impress the person I was arguing with. I do remember having borrowed my flat mate's coat for the evening, & on waking the next morning, I realised with horror I had left the coat at the residence where the party had been held.

My flatmate was rightfully irate, so I called a friend, who took me back to the house, hoping to retrieve the coat. I did not know the actual resident, but had met a girl I had known as a child, & as I knocked, I hoped she actually lived there!

No one answered my knock, & since the door stood ajar, I ventured inside. There were sleeping forms lying about in the rooms, & the borrowed coat, lay on a bed, which luckily, was not occupied. I grabbed the coat & took my leave, feeling like a sneak thief, even though no one stirred or seemed aware of my presence.

My friend took me home, & my flatmate was suitably placated on the return of her coat. I mentally vowed never to borrow clothes again, & also, kept thinking about what an utter idiot I had made of myself over the Gene Kruper conversation.

As to 'faking it', I haven't made a practice of faking it, since that night. I have often resisted joining the tide of hyesteria to read/view/ or listen to, something everyone else is raving on about.

I was determined not to see The Sound of Music. Some friends tricked me into going, & I was shocked to realise I thoroughly enjoyed it! I had previously detested musicals. I once walked out of Showboat, I found it so irritating.

My brother & I joke about our 'stubborn streak'. We feel it comes from our contrary Yorkshire ancestors... but then, we have contrary Irish, & also contrary Scots too, so I guess we are doomed to just be contrary!


David Gray, Babylon

Glowering Skies.

Yesterday, we too our Daughter J & SG, with us on a trip down to visit our Son B. The long trip passed happily enough. I had plenty of clenches to work out the pelvic floor, & SG happily declared we were "Up in the Rain Clouds!"

We were certainly up among the mists & clouds, that hung low over the F3 Freeway. We have been getting much needed rain, so we could not legitimately grizzle about it, but it does make driving a little more 'fraught'.

Gom had the windscreen wipers on most of the trip. When it wasn't raining, the tyres from other vehicles spattered the slick onto the windscreen. As we got down into Sydney's busy, thronging, suburbs, traffic slowed to a crawl on the Pacific Highway. SG was most concerned we were lost. "Where are we? Do we know where we are Gom?" I gave him the UBD book of road maps to look at, & he spent a happy half hour 'reading the maps'. Saying, "Look Mum, this is all our world!"

It was our first visit to our son's new residence. I tried to take a nice pic of the beautiful Jacaranda in the yard, but the day was so dull, it hasnt turned out very well. The Jacarandas are all in bloom, (except our ungrateful tree, which refuses to flower, & has just produced a crop of leaves- yet again)The whole of Sydney is showing bursts of these beautiful purple trees in full flower, & it makes for a lovey panorama, if there is only time to look at it all in the hurried harried life of City.

The suburb our Son lives in, is very old, & used to be working class. Now of course, because of it's proximity to the city centre, & the nearby wharf, for quick ferry rides to the Quay, or Darling Harbour, it has become trendy & much sought after.

It is with shock, that I realise our Son has lived there for 20 years now, & he loves it. It is certainly a very unique place, with a wonderful mix of people, & very fashionable unusual shops. And many many cafes, offering any cuisine you could ever wish for.

These fearsome stone lions stand guard at the front gates to a huge old dwelling. The garden is like a huge jungle, & at night the garden is lit from below, with bright lights, giving an eerie glow to the plants.

The wrought iron is a feature of much of the area, with many terrace houses being lovingly restored with wrought iron balcony trims, & laces purely for decoration.

I would have loved to spend the day just wandering about taking photos, & have visited the area often over the years, but never time for picture taking.

There are many different people out & about in the streets, & the Long Darling Street which runs down to the Harbour & Darling St Wharf is filled with interesting boutiques, food venues, & wonderful purveyors of the odd & artful.

Dogs are welcome in this bustling area, with many shopkeepers providing water bowls for thirsty canines as they travel the street with their owners.

Many cafe's have tables on the footpath, so diners can be seen with their dogs tied safely to the table or chair, sharing in the day's outing.

Many old terrace houses have been converted into business premises, & they nestle among more recent large buildings.

Among the items for sale, were these bright floral mats for you front doorstep, to welcome you visitors, or more likely, encourage them to wipe their feet before entering.

This shop seemed to also have a collection of porcelain penguins for sale, among other trinkets & treasures. There are many shops such as this, & if it is something unusual you require this is where you just might find it.


I loved the huge bright displays of flowers, to took some pics to share the wonderfu colour of them, on such a dull grey day.

These were displayed at the front of the fruit & vegetable shops, & I would have liked to take pics of the produce inside, but time really did not permit.

These photos barely do the colours justice. The gerberas were almost electric in their vibrance, & intensity.

Pedestrians were most helpful & polite as I stopped to snap, either waiting politely, or walking carefully around me, so they didnt spoil my pics.

SG enjoyed his day out, & his wise mother had packed snacks, & then there was our hasty lunch to eat in the car on the return. Where he chatted happily away, & fell asleep. A nice day out, in spite of my nervous disposition at being a passenger, but I think have some company helped dispel the anxiety.

It was just a shame our Granddaughter had to work, or she could have come with us.

Of course, my mother's heart was gladdened to see our Son's new residence, & now I can picture him at home.

Don McLean, Empty Chairs.

Melancholia

The lack of creativity around here, increases. I try to goad myself into action, thinking of all the things I want to get done. Then I seem to sink back into the trough of inertia.

The next pic, is of a little quilt I made very early in my quilting days. I really liked the block, & the effect so I carefully chose the fabrics at the local quilt shops, which were still open then.
It is only 22"x22" so I guess it would qualify as a 'doll quilt'.This little one I made prior to the blue & yellow one, & I just made the pattern up, as I wanted a quilt for a small cradle I had painted & tried out folk art painting on the head & footboard.

I hand quilted it, & needle turned the applique hearts, so it was good learning curve work.

We had a busy day yesterday. Luckily I am not a joiner, so am not missing out on the posting for November thing. Haha, I tried to sign up, but couldnt seem to get it to work, so that clinched my decision not to join.

We had SG here for the day, from early in the morning. His mother brought his 'rations' for the day. He is a fussy eater, & is also a snacker. His appetite doesnt seem to recognize 'meal times', as we know them, & he likes to spend all day snacking on his favourites, which include salami, cheese, cheese & crackers, & some muesli type bars. Always with a request for Nutella sandwiches - we use whole grain bread, so I console myself all is not too bad!

Since Gom was inclined to eat in a similar pattern, I dont worry about it. SG kept us amused a good deal of the time. He has become very good about packing his toys up once he has finished with them. He came & sat beside me, on the floor, & played with a small train set, then packed all the track pieces up, & packed them neatly into the box again. Amazing.

One of the lamps in the lounge was suddenly turned on, & Leo was seen emerging from the switch area. SG ran over, & said, "Leo you sneaky little bugger, you turned the lamp on!" Accompanied by giggles- some from Gom.

He spent a good deal of time pegging Gom's toes, as he operated on him. Ouch! Then he built a massive cubby with the quilts.

When his mother arrived, late & harrassed, from a meeting he declared he had a good day, & did not want to leave. But then he remembered his new sweater, -with a HOOD!- & he was off & running.

I am not sure why I find it so exhausting to have him here. He is a very good little boy, & he is full of chatter, asks lots of questions, & is constantly on the move. I decided that part of it is the swirl of the atmosphere! He leaves ripples & waves with his rushing hither & yon, & even the dogs seem exhausted when he has gone, & they slump into doze mode the minute the door closes.

He declared he had 'special powers' & waved his hands at me, telling me to shut my eyes, 'dont look, I am operating!' as he pegged his grandfather's toes! 'Have a sleep Nan' waving his fingers, as he draped a hot Gom in a shower of dog quilts. The words felt quite compelling in the steamy, heat filled afternoon air, & I could have drifted off very easily.

He told us he hated big school, he doesnt want to go, & he is not going to go. I dont know that he hated it as much as his mother did, but she certainly doesnt intend telling him that! Next week his father will go with them.

When he is gone, there seems to be a strange vacuum, & the ripples & waves gently subside, leaving a still, almost flat, air space. The magic powers all leave the room, the electricity seeps out of the air. We recompose our selves, & sink quietly back into 'old mode'.

Then in the evening, it was off to the Dr for me. Attending our Doctor's Skin Clinic. Most of us with lengthening teeth! Emerging from his surgery, with small bandaids, stitched areas, small invisibly caused limps. One old man declaring

"Gettting old is Bloody Hard"

I will spare you the details of my problems. I had 2 different proceedures. One involved some stitches. I went into shock, after it was over, which shook me a bit. I am usually very stoic about such things. I really like & trust the Doctor. He has a lovely nurse who assists him, & I really like her. But I began to shake once it was all done, & felt very wobbly in the pins! It hadn't even involved much pain. Only the initial sting of the needles to numb the areas.

Gom was a little shocked when he saw me. I hadnt told him I was having it done, as I thought the Dr might do the 2 things seperately. One proceedure is hidden, but the other is on my face. (Not the eye)

I was whisked home, provided with a nice tea, given a glass of wine, & generally looked after handsomely.

So why am I melancholy? Who knows.

I find these days, it doesnt distress me if I am feeling a little melancholy, the way it might have done when I was younger. I feel it is all part of the patchwork of our natures & our lives. We all have the cloudy shadows that move our way sometimes. They pass, & the sun comes out again.

Paul Simon, Slip Slidin' Away.

The Itch with No End...

Do you get a mental itch?? Do you have trouble scratching that itch.??
Do you ever wish you could just reach into the past & scrub the lot away??

This is a -yes another- blurry pic of a shrub that our former DIL gave me as a gift.
I love the fact it is flourishing at the side of our house. Blushing unseen, you may say. Which our daughter-in-law tended to do. She is a gentle, wonderful person, & we miss her in our family, & still mourn her loss. We wish she was still part of our family. We bless the fact that she is still a friend to our son. Here is the new spring growth on our Christmas Shrub, as they call it. I dont know it's real name, but is has red bracts, around Xmas, & apparently almost died out, because people stole & ripped pieces off the natural bush shrubs, to decorate houses when the Yuletide season was upon this land.

This one is a huge tree we have in our side garden. I have no idea what it is. The leaves are so remiscent of Pohutukawa, I am always surprised when it has no blossom -ever. I do love the new bright lime coloured growth, & plead with the

Garden Vandal not to trim it back.

Here is the heavily wounded Tibouchina. I gave permission to the Garden Vandal, aka Gom, to trim this huge tree. I was assured it would recover, & become sturdy & thick of growth. I see these new shoots & feel so guilty- & relievd, to see it is actually regrowing.

After the initial carving, I thought it had died, & when I went to investigate, I cringed at the evident crying of the poor munted tree.

The sap wept in strips down the carved off trunks of the branches. the moss even wept alongside the poor wounded stumps.

It seems it will live, & probably flourish. I hope it does. I transplanted it from elsewhere.

Other itches are developing on my skin. 'Crapsticks' as AG would say. I have no idea what has caused them. Great red angry welts across my arm, leg, & torso. Gom does not have any. We share the same bed, the same food, the same furniture. I have not changed the shampoo, soap, or washing powder. I am at a loss to understand where this itch is coming from.

I have another skin appointment. Tomorrow.

We have our beloved little SG tomorrow, for most of the day. I am sure it will be fun, & very exhausting! He had his first taste of 'Big School' today. His mother said he was not impressed. Hopefully things will get better!




Bob Seger, You'll Accompn'y Me

Ready Or Not.

I just adore the "i can has cheezburger.com" site. I visit it quite often, being a bit of an animal sucker.

Somehow this dear little pic reminded me of the changing seasons, which are coming, whether we are 'ready or not.'

Our Summer seems to have sneaked in early, pretending to be Spring. Either that, or global warming is much worse than we realised. It has been gaspingly hot here for the past few days, & the thunderstorm we had on Friday just made it all seem worse.

Jogging about the blogging world, I see so many pictures of the most gloriously coloured leaves, in the Norhtern Hemisphere, where, of course, it is Autumn. The wonderful strong, rich, reds, the hot, beautiful, oranges, & brilliant almost electric rusts, & golden browns. Sunstruck yellows, limes, faded greens. I am sure our autumn coloured leaves dont attain such strong, brilliant colours. I wonder why?

Is it the light, or the lack of, or the strength of the sun? Does the sun bleach the colours out? Or might it be the different types of trees that grow? The promise those glorious greens seem to hold don't last very long in this dry, hot climate. Not on the deciduous trees at least.

I know that we never seemed to see such brilliant colours in Christchurch, either, & many of the same trees grow in Hagley Park, & the Botanic Gardens, as grow in England. Many of the Northern hemisphere trees, of other countries, also.

I have watched the wonderful rich greens coming on the trees, the wonderful young lime coloured leaves. Golden new leaves, that will gradually turn a darker green, as the Summer comes on. Even the Eucalypts have a myriad of new colours, as they sprout new growth.

It always amazes me, to see the wonderful brightly coloured Rainbow Lorrikeets, & Rosellas, & to see how they blend, almost into invisibility among the shrubs & trees. Even the pink & grey Gallahs blend into the grass as they peck around searching for, I know not what.

Our birds in New Zealand were much 'quieter', in a colour sense. Introduced birds were prevalent, Blackbirds, Thrush with beautiful dusk songs, Sparrows, who have seemed to diminish recently. Native birds tended to be dull & quite difficult to spot in among the native trees. Many of which were dark evergreens.

In rural areas in New Zealand Pine trees of many varieties became popular for use as windbreaks, hedges, & delineating areas, such as hiding the woolsheds, stock yards, or sheltering the dog kennels, or just as windbreaks for the houses, affording some privacy as well as boundary markers.

Most old houses would have had some conifers, macrocarpa, lawsoniana, & pinus radiata. When the occupants had long gone, or the house had crumbled away, the remnants of the gardens would be left, overgrown, dark, & lonely. Often foreboding, as only those gnarly old trees could be.

As a child I have vivid memories of those old pine trees. Their dark, threatening, shapes, the carpet of needles so quiet & stealthy somehow. I always thought of Hansel & Gretel, & always had a shiver on entering large stands of such trees.

I loved the pinecones however, & loved to go & gather them for the fire. My father made me a very nice owl, out of a handsome pincone, & I wonder if that is where my lifelong fascination with owls came from. though some say I was a witch in a former life, & that is why I love owls- & wolves, though we had none of those in NZ!

I remember the pine cones could be rather treacherous to burn on an open fire- they were given to spit in protest at being burned, & a good fire guard was needed to protect the hearth & carpet! Sometimes even the furniture! I was 'gifted' a spot burnt armchair, which had been a rescue from Gom's first marriage.

You have no idea how much I loathed that hideous holed, ugly yellow, vynyl covered chair. To this day, it remains in my mind, a symbol of my MIL.

I had intended this post to go in another direction. (Ha ha, much as we sometimes intend our lives to take other directions!)

A memory of an old man, who lived in a very tumble down old cottage. It was surrounded by many old plants, where a former, perhaps lovely, garden had once thrived, & been lovingly tended. There were several banks of pine type trees, & many thick vines, surrounding his dwelling.

As children we used to venture across the paddocks, to hide, & peep at poor Old Billy's house. He had a beard, & longish hair, & he could occasionally be heard muttering away to himself.

There were many old plants, flowers & shrubs that struggled against the encroaching weed forest. Lonely oldfashioned flowers could be seen blooming in spite of neglect. Sweet Williams, (Dianthus) flowering valiantly, among the riotous weeds. Old forgotten Primrose clumps. Wild Narcissus, Daffodils, Snowdrops.

A particular shrub of pink small flowers, with a spicy fragrance sticks in my memory. A very old fashioned shrub, which no longer appears in modern gardens. I loved it's fragance, & recall it vividly, to this day. The slightly sticky leaves on the tips of new growth.

Most scary, or surprising, was Old Billy's 'Midden'. We lived some miles inland from the ocean. A short distance by car, but not exactly a 'short' distance on foot. To my knowledge, Old Billy didnt have a vehicle.

Old Billy, must have been a shellfish lover. There was a huge pile of Pipi, & perhaps Cockle shells. It had obviously been created over a long period of time. I was always curious about how, or where, he got his supplies of shellfish. I suppose there were many fish skeletons among the midden piles, but I don't remember any stench or vile smell. I do remember it being very high, & wondering what would be made of it all, once he was gone.

I don't ever remember "Old Billy" stories really, in the township. We kids probably made his lonely life a bit harder, sneaking about spying on him. All he wanted, was to be left alone, to live his solitary life, in his little old, crumbling ruin of his "home".

My Beloved Brother probably remembers more than I do, about Old Billy. He spent more time, with his mates, roaming about the paddocks of the neighbouring farms.



Better Than, The John Butler Trio, ...for my lovely Granddaughter.

An Award, & A Meme.

Lone Grey Squirrel, of the Realm of the Lone Grey Squirrel, has given me an award! I am not sure that I am worthy of this award, but I was always told to accept compliments graciously.
So, while blushing furiously, in the humid morning air, I humbly thank you, LGS!

I was also passed a Meme, from Tanya, at Purple Giraffes. It is quite a long meme, & as Tanya points out, it is rather cruel to pass these things along!
A little Warning here. If you go to visit Tanya today, be aware that she has very NON P. C. content!!
I was always a non-joiner, but in my old age, I must be mellowing a little.
So here goes, with an added dimension.yes that is me, I can never leave well alone
I am going to insert some lies into this, (I pinched this idea off someone elses blog, Tracey? sorry, cant remember where now, but I found it quite amusing to read.)

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night?
My Beloved Brother, who can always make me laugh.

2. What were you doing at 0800?
Handstand on the patio.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Given my weight and agility, working out how to do a handstand.

4. What happened to you in 2006?
I flew to New Zealand for a fabulous holiday, & to celebrate my BB's 60th Birthday. I also began a Blog.

5. What was the last thing you said out loud?
"Hello, how are you feeling today?" Silently, I was thinking "I hope you have learned your lesson!"

6. How many beverages did you have today?
Water & coffee. It is early, the wine can wait for the evening. I am not a Wino, you know!

7. What color is your hairbrush?
Who wrote these questions? It is black with red tips!

8. What was the last thing you paid for?
$1 for Debra Byrnes Memoir, Not Quite Ripe.

9.Where were you last night?
Down at the local shopping centre skating in leotards around the carpark, terrifying little old ladies.

10. What color is your front door?
Lime green.

11. Where do you keep your change?
I donate it all to garage sale proprietors for junk treasure they no longer want.

12. What’s the weather like today?
Humid, hot. A great day for the Home Nudist.
Bring back winter!

13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor?
Cheese.

14. What excites you?
At my age, what doesn't. I am about to enter my second childhood!

15. Do you want to cut your hair?
As a matter of fact, yes, myself, with triple mirrors. It worked perfectly when I was 20, why not now.

16. Are you over the age of 25?
Just a tad! But mentally, I can be any age I wish. It's called oldage time travel.

17. Do you talk a lot?
Define a "Lot"


18. Do you watch the O.C.?
I have no idea what the O.C. is. I am sure I would not watch it. On the other hand if it stands for Old Codger, I watch him all the time, to make sure he doesnt go out with stains on his shirt!

19. Do you know anyone named Steven?
I dont think I do. I think all the people whose name sounds like that, are Stephens. Well, I almost certain they are...

20. Do you make up your own words?
All the time.

21. Are you a jealous person?
If by jealous, you mean wishing to gouge someone's eyes out because they have more than I do, then No.
But if you mean in the sense 'I am going home to kill myself & burn my stash because your quilts are so dropdead gorgeous & wonderful & mine look like rag rugs' -well, yes.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’.
Any volunteers??

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’.
Kim

24. Who’s the first person on your received call list?
These questions are not for old farts are they? I dont have such a list.

25. What does the last text message you received say?
I dont have a functioning mobile phone, so I dont get txt messages.

26. Do you chew on your straw?
Depends if I am in amongst the hay. Plastic is plastic- blech.

7. Do you have curly hair?
That is a very personal question. Most of it is straight.

28. Where’s the next place you’re going to?
On a fabulous holiday to Canada, & Germany. Either that, or I haven't woken up yet.

29. Who’s the rudest person in your life?
There are several definitions of the word Rude. I am not sure which one to choose.

30. What was the last thing you ate?
Breakfast. No it was not cereal, which I loathe! I just know it was not, nor ever could be "Plumpynut".

31. Will you get married in the future?
Good Grief no! Once is more than enough. Besides, he is still alive!

32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks?
You Kill Me, with Ben Kingsley

33. Is there anyone you like right now?
A small teddy bear called Pipi. And 2 dogs. No, not that one!

34. When was the last time you did the dishes?
Dishes? There are dishes? Gom takes care of those.

35. Are you currently depressed?
No, I take sacks of Happy Pills, washed down with gallons of wine, so I never get depressed.

36. Did you cry today?
Not yet, anyway.

37. Why did you answer and post this?
I was bullied into it by Tanya!

38. Tag 5 people who would do this survey…
Well for criminy's sake. Who can tell who would do this meme?

In the past, I have tagged people, who, for reasons they are entirely legitimately entitled to, have ignored, refused, can't be bothered, or missed seeing, the tags, therefore they don't always get done.
Which is ok by me, & fair enough.
I would like to see variations on the theme. Loose approximations would be good. Feel free to make up your own lies- or even questions. Of course- only if you feel like it!!

I hereby TAG-

Aunty Evil at Evil Manor.

Mike at Tongue in Check

Lee at A Curate's Egg.

Tanya the Art Butcher

Lone Grey Squirrel, at Realm of the Lone Grey Squirrel.

I also want to tag my BB for this meme, as he might have some good answers to offer. He doesnt have a blog, but I can post his response here, if he cares to do it. Are you listening Henri??


I would like to pass on the "Totally Fabulous Award" to Lee also.
His Blog is always guaranteed to make us aware, & alert. Everyone knows we need more Lerts!


Joan Baez, Luba the Baroness, because I always loved the thought of the 3 day wedding in the South of France.

Procrastination.

I have lost the art of posting!
A little time this morning, & I have been just procrastinating. Finding other fidgety things to do. Catching up on emails I owed answers to, trying to sort out where in the ether my letters to my cousin have been going.

Our Son B came up yesterday, to stay the night with us, & collect something, which we will take back with him today. I loathe the Freeway, -I am a clenched 'cheek' passenger, & can barely walk once we arrive at the destination. I suppose I should sieze upon it as a good opportunity to improve the pelvic floor muscles, & be glad I am so terrified!

Put me on a plane or a train, or even a bus, & I am fine. But put me in a sedan car, & I just want to be anywhere else on the planet. Gom is a good driver, with a good record. Only 3 minor accidents, & none of them his fault. I really dislike the fast pace on the Freeway, the thundering semis, the racing fools, usually with P plates on the bumper. I will be glad when the day is over.

I would suspect they will also be glad when this day is over, & they can sink into their respective beds. Those two never know when to stop. They never seem to realise that you can have too much of a good thing.

It has become a ritual, they go & play pool at the Club. Which is fine by me, & can fill my time, & it gives them a chance for father/son time. But they invariably lose track of time. Which is also fine by me, but not when other family members are to be considered.

As is usual in these situations, I get to be "Piggy in the Middle". I get the blame heaped upon my head. I become Mrs Poos for the day, or weekend...

Our Daylight saving has kicked in today. Just in time for their monstrous hangovers! I saw it was somewhat after 4am when a lurching mumbling figure came into the bed, fully clothed, & muttering "I love you, you know" Yeah right!

Quickly resisting the urge to strangle him for being so foolish in his old age, & suddenly notice Leo is missing. Honey is giving gentle little woofs. Nothing loud or panicky. No Leo.

I get up to investigate where he might be. I hear a muffled little bark. Assuming he is downstairs with Son, I go down to check. No little dog. Light blazing in the bathroom, but no dog. So back upstairs & check out the back door. Which is wide open to the night, outside light blazing away! No dog. Back downstairs, open the front door, which is unlocked, outside light blazing, one small sad looking little dog, waiting to come inside! GRRRR!

Luckily Leo is a real homebody dog. If that had been Honey left forgotten out there, she probably would have run away off over to visit one of the loves of her life, Mr Nice Neighbour!

Just wait till those 'naughty boys' get up. They might get a bit of toungue lashing! I know Gom will be horrified as he dotes on Leo. It seems to be mutual.
I can just hear them now. Each will blame the other. All is well that ends well I guess.


****
I am puzzled as to what is going on with my skin. I am sure the problem is not cancer, - it is near my eye, so it better not be!! I think what the Dr meant, was it might be some early keratosis thing, which of course is 'not exactly cancer'.
It is a little strange & may even be an allergy type thing. Though I dont wear eye makeup these days.

I do have another area of keratosis which is going to come off this week. Nothing alarming, just routine. You cant kill weeds you know!

****
I had better go & 'gird my loins' in preparation for the coming journey.
I had better try to mend some bridges in the family communication stakes, too.
*****

Thankyou so much for all your kind wishes regarding our SIL. He is still to undergo further tests, & is still unwell, but not enough to warrant being in Hospital. The pain level is much reduced after his antibiotics, but says he knows something is 'not right'. It is a worry for everyone, but nothing we can do, except wait for further testing.


Buddy Holly, Raining In My Heart.

The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly. ( Aunty Evil Alert!! Do not read!!)

This might be termed the Good. It is our 'Yesterday, Today & Tomorrow' shrub. It does have another 'proper name' which I am too lazy to look up, at present. It is very attractive- if you like purple & all the colour variations. It also has a very nice perfume.Ours is a little sunstarved, due to the over-hanging Grevillea, previously posted here, on this blog- too lazy to retrieve the post.

The past few days take their toll. I am on my 3rd glass of wine. Hell, I can barely type~ let alone do links!

This might be termed the Bad, or the Optomistic... depending on where you stand. It is a photo of a spider busily weaving some poor critter into it's web. On the other hand, it is an appallingly bad photo, so no harm may be done, regarding arachnophobics. You garden purists, please excuse the 'ugly' succulents. They grow so freely & willingly, we cannot bear to remove them. Plus we do admire their tenacity, & their form. The same applies to the fish fern in the back drop- however we feel no guilt at removing those when, & if, we so desire!!

This next pic is not really the Ugly. It is a shot from down on our lower garden, up into today's grey & weeping sky. The rain was sooo welcome. But not nearly enough! The Grey glowered at us all day. It periodically wept it's feeble tears. Those tears were woefully inadequate. In the grand scheme of things.
This is our roof, our top level palm- a Bandanna. And the fern tree on the left, sprouting it's new leaves, & the Maple on the right with a Draceana in the foreground. Dark? Foreboding? New life, in the fern fronds? New hope?

Perhaps the Ugly here. Twisted trunks. Our pitiful Jacaranda, which this year has graced us with NOT ONE flower!!! Gom has threatened to cut it down. For the past 10 years I have begged for it's life. Does it reward me with blossom??

NO WAY!! It jeers at me. It makes me think it will produce blossom, to curse, or bless. But, in our 10 years of life here, it has only ever given us about 3 clumps of flowers. Perhaps Gom should be given his head??

This following may be said to truly represent the Ugly. The neighbour has a penchant for Penile or Phallic symbols. He carves his poor pinely trees into Phallic symbols. They now house Mynah bird nests. A true curse on our society. I do not see the attraction to Phallic shapes. Perhaps I am a peasant??

I also find the wires & aerials of home CB? or such like, rather ugly.

However in the interests of neighbourly harmony, we say nothing, & turn our faces away from the unsightly aerials & wires, & the sounds of fecking bloody compressors machinery being acitvated at hours when we might enjoy our back yard, & the peace therein.

We do try to concentrate on the positive. Hell, if you are laughing you cant very well cry can you??

The Sil continues to be tenuously at home. It could change in a second.

The said disposition might be deemed to be 'foul'. Pain is a factor I am sure.

I wish to thank your all, for your good thoughts. prayers, or whatever you might term them.

These times are difficult. It is hard to remain up, & illogical. I still see the humorous side of things. Then guilt steals in?

My silly skin complaint is refusing to clear. I have consulted the Dr again. We shared a laugh about it. I am sure it will be resolved.

He told me it is "Not exactly cancer" haha. I dont think it is!



John Denver, Shanghai Breezes. For Joyce!!

Warning! Boring, Infuriated, Rant Ahead.

I hope that whoever gets elected next into a position of "Power" over State, or Federal Coffers, would choose to spend money to help to address the disgusting state of the Hospital Systems.

I am sure it is a hopeless dream on my part. It seems to be some sort of worldwide malady. A reluctance on the part of the greedy rotters slurping at the troughs of power powers-that-be, to spend any money on welfare services, such as our ailing hospital systems, or, our ailing systems for the protection of children-at-risk.

Son in law was discharged from hospital this morning. After being on the Urgent Surgery List. He was assured he could NOT go home before Thursday, & since he remains undiagnosed, & his tests all indicate infection, & serious problems, he would have to undergo further scans, & tests.

Then, suddenly it becomes a choice of 'turf someone out, who is not exactly dying', so that some other person can lie in his bed. He has been told to return immediately on increase of pain. They still dont know what the hell what is causing the infection, & the warning tests. He is on painkillers & antibiotics. One Doctor told him he wished he could take his case on personally. Another told him 'Dont mess about if the pain increases again, come straight back!'

Nurses were livid. Citing those "Crazy stupid little b*tches, who take Ecstacy, knowing the dangers, & then take up beds genuine sick people should be occupying". They could not believe Sil was being discharged while still so sick.

Yesterday Gom read in the paper where the Coalition' which is the Federal Govt has given a Quote, "grant of 6.5 Million Dollars to the Bradman Foundation to assist in establishing a cricketing hall of fame at the Bradman Musuem at Bowral."

Apart from the fact that I disapprove of the Idolisation of 'sports' people, I was stunned & all the cuss words in the world could not begin to express the disgust I felt at that news.

The same newspaper carried the story of the little boy, whose naked body was found in a suitcase, in a pond. His mother has been arrested for his murder. He had been reported "at risk" repeatedly, to the understaffed, underfunded, useless toothless tigers appropriate authorities. Once more they failed. Lack of staff. Lack of funds. Another life snuffed out, so needlessly.

I happen to know, as most Aussies do, that Sir Donald Bradman had a child who was born with 'problems'. I am sure he would have rather seen that funds dedicated to the no I cant say that in public Museum in his name, could be spent on the protection of innocent little lives of children at risk.

What is the world thinking, to Bankrupt our children's future? To Bankrupt our Health & Welfare Services?

In the still of the night, I can see why so many people are depressed.
I can see why so may people give up.
In the still of the night, I taste despair.


And this evening we hear the news of a millionaire, who dropped dead, whilst out for a run, aged only 42. Money wont buy life.

But it might prolong life, if spent in hospitals, & on services to protect children.


John Denver, Country Roads

Waiting Games.

There are many waiting games we play throughout our lives.
We wait to be born.
We wait to begin school.
Go off to High School or University.

Wait to wed. Or not. Usually wait to meet Mr or Ms Compatible.
Wait for our child/ren to be born.
Wait for them to begin school.
Leave school.
Begin careers.

Marry.
Part.
Marry again.
Or repartner.

They begin their 'cycles of heaven', for want of a better phrase.
The older generation continues to wait.
For Grandchildren. If we are very lucky.

For Birthdays, Christmas. Holidays. Family Celebrations.

Then there are the agony waits. A child is ill, hospitalised.
We wait with terror, for the verdict, telling us it will all be ok.
For some, it will not be ok.

We wait for the grief, & the anger to pass.
We wait to try to heal.

A parent is ill. Dying in fact. Though that is terribly hard to face initially.
When the final realisation comes, it is a nurse who gently tells.
Were the Doctors cowards? Uncaring? Disinterested?
It looked a lot like that from where we stood.

That was our perception, as our loved one lay dying in a grubby, shabby, 'treatment room'.
Devoid of windows. Full of leftover equipment, broken or useless.
Full of detritus of ward life.
It felt to us, like a final insult at the end of a good, caring & loving life.

Now we are so fearful again.
Son in law is in hospital.
In such fierce pain, he is on a morphine drip.

He helped us yesterday, to move furniture.
He was in a great deal of pain then.
He didn't want to let us down.
Now he is undergoing all sorts of tests to try to determine what is wrong with him.

Tests have ruled some things out.
More tests are yest to determine the cause of his pain.

We are waiting at home. Waiting to hear the next step.
Our Daughter J, is waiting by his side.

I want to tell his parents.
If that was my child, I would be furious if I wasn't told.

He is adamant he doesn't want them told.
They are not as close a family as we are... but,
My Mother's heart quakes in fear.


**********



Quote from The Prophet, Kalil Gibran.


"And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said,
Speak to us of Children.
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons & daughters of Life's longing for itself.
The come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as
living arrows are sent forth.
The Archer sees the mark upon the path of the
infinite, and He bends you with His might that His
arrows may go swift & far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He
loves also the bow that is stable."

As you all know, if you read these posts, I have no "Religion". But I love the words of wisdom in this little book. It just seems like such common sense.
Of course we don't own our chilren. Of course they should not be like us.
But I feel we have the right to love & cherish them.


Mozart, Anything at all!

The Question of RAGE.

We are all increasingly faced with rage. In our daily life we read of road rage, supermarket rage, parental rage, phone rage.

Who, has not sat, punching in numbers, silently fuming, only to hear another recorded message tell us our further options, of numbers we can punch- & by then it really is punch - to hopefully get to speak with a real live person.

How many times have you been fooled, & begun to speak, only to discover it is yet another recored message! All guaranteed to induce rage. Impotent rage. Short of smashing your own phone, you can't take the frustration out on a recording. It is also, very unwise to take it out on the poor individual who is live, who eventually comes to talk to you.


Then there is the Supermarket queue. The one I join, can almost cosmicly be guaranteed to be the slowest in the whole store. You know the scene, Darlene lazily unhooks the microphone, & loudly proclaims "Price check on reduced items from the Trolley in small goods!!" Everyone cranes their necks to see what shoddy item you wish to purchase, what spotted, mouldy, package, you, in your total *cheapskate* mode have the idiocy to want to purchase.

You stand flashing the idiot foolish grin, & cower, pretending it is ok, you are an 'eccentric'!! You shrivel, as the checkout Charlie or Charlene, says, loudly, "I have never tried 'those' what are they? Everyone cranes again, trying to see what sort of cretin wants to try that, & at a reduced price!! Obviously, risking Salmonella or Botulism, by even risking such marked down items.

It all mounts up, in the rage quota, that lies in the back of your mind.

If you are the male, out there earning the crust, to bring home the bacon! You are upstaged at work. Your PR girl makes snide remarks, - did she mean me?
Was that my tie she was ridiculing by the coffee urn?? What were they all laughing about in Accounts? Why did they stop when I walked in??

It all builds up. The rage quotient. You get home from a hard day at the Bacon slicer, the Accountant office, the hairdresser, the driving range...
Your kids mock you, they take you off, behind your back. Your spouse laughs out of context at something you are trying to tell them.

You get in your vehicle to drive home, after a day's work. That smart arsed little bitch P plater in the lane next to you, zooms off at the lights, & cuts you off!! Red flashes appear before your eyes!! No little tit P plate driver is going to get away with that!! Holy Cow, I have got a Full Gold License, she, on the other hand is barely dry behind the ears! Who does she think she is?? How bloody dare she!

You can't get enraged with the phone service, as it is laughingly, nay jeeringly, referred to. NO!
You can't get enraged with your work colleagues. Hell no! You might have to pay!
You can't take it out on your family. They might see you for the swine/prick you are, deep down.
Hell, keep smiling at the neighbours, dont let them see the rage bubbling away beneath the surface.
No, choke it all down. Smile, be cordial. Be controlled. Be charming.

Be careful though, for out on the highways of your life, you never know when that RAGE is likely to blow!!
You might meet a set of strangers. A golden chance to let it all hang out!! Let it all errupt in a vituperative spewing forth of all the previously carefully contained RAGE.

You can't be so bald faced with family, friends, acquaintances, work colleagues.
But by Golly!! You can be anyhow you choose amongst total strangers! You can let the 'sewage' spill.
No one knows you, so it is ok! You can really go for it.

Do you suppose that is how rage builds. That is how rage gets so out of control, people do unspeakable things.
Are they afraid to take off the mask of their respectability, & bare the ugly face or reality, to loved ones or people who 'count' in their lives.

Is all this Urban respecatibility wearing us down. Causing a volcanic overflow of RAGE every now & then?
Should we rethink our social acceptables? Should we allow a good, safe, venting in our family units? An acceptable level of rage venting at work?

Daughter J & I were all for designing a Rage Outlet Centre. We would have padded silent rooms. You could hire them for a nominal fee. We could provide china to be smashed, clothes to be ripped, books to be shredded.. anything the hapless Rage vicitm desired really. We are sure there would be less damage done to families, children, vehicles, should such centres exist. Therapy for Rage.

A healthy outlet for all that pent-up rage, that wont cost a fortune! Or lives.
Or marriages. Or sanity.

I had a visit to our GP. Hopefully, I dont have a cancer.
Also, I was told something very nice, about my health, so it is a good day! Hot, but good!

The Little Man with the Hammer..

This is a pic of our 'Fuzzy Reality'. Last evening. The sun was setting, & cast a glare upon the photo. I usually crop them, so that no neighbours are visible.
To the right of the photo is our spare room window- which is where I sit to sew, & also compose my posts.
The window beyond that is our bedroom window, which looks out over the valley, & down to the village.

On the left is the palm tree, which grows at the front or our balcony. It is a Bangalow Palm, which are native to Australia, & I am very fond of it.


Across the road is our neighbour's drive way. He shares this with people who live on a block hehind his. He is a friend, & he lives alone. He is a tradesman, who is generous with his time & his skills, to his neighbours.

It is nice to feel we know our neighbours, & have acquaintanceship with them. They are all nice people, & I am sure, would be supportive should we need them. We are on call, should they need us, & it is nice to be called upon occasionally, & nice to know they can feel comfortable enough with us, to call when necessary.

I feel this is how neighbourhoods should be. We should all be here, to support one another, if the need arises.

We had very aged sisters, who were accross the road from us. We ran errands, & visited often. They both had to go into homes. Have both passed away. I have cried at their passing. Another couple, lovely neighbourly people died within 2 months of each other. Shockingly, unexpectedly. Nice, new folk bought the houses. We are here, should they need us.

I feel we were brought up with those ideals. Our Grandmother was a friend to the neighbourhood. She was called 'Danny', my childish nickname for her, by all our neighbours. They all came to consult with her at various times, & she was loved & respected by many who knew her. She kept her wise counsel, & never gossiped. She was a true lady, I feel.

To return to the little man with the hammer.
We had SG today, for some hours. He has a very heavy cold, with accompanying cough, a rather brochitic sounding one. Each day we have had him, I have tried to steer clear of the involuntary coughs errupting. I have got him to blow his poor litte nose, to rid of the green mucous. Placing the tissues into the toilet or the waste bin, hoping not to spread the bacteria. Washing his & my hands, hoping to prevent cross infection.

He was reminiscing about his babyhood this afternoon. Asking why he was absent from photos of his parents with is sister. I tried to explain, he was not even an egg whe the photos were taken. He couldn't seem to grasp it all.

He reminded me, that I used to cradle him in my arms when he was a baby. I used to hold him till he slept, & he said, "I used to sleep in your arms Nanna" I agreed, that was true. He snuggled into me, & went to sleep this afternoon.

We had a friend come to visit. He watched SG fall asleep, lying in the crook of my arm. He noticed I looked very tired. I was. The little man with the hammer was in the back of my head. At the base of my skull. Reminding me, I need some rest. I am tired.

But, who could resist the trust of a little boy, resting, so blissfully safe, uaware of life's harsh realities? So safe, in his Nanna's arms. Safe from the outside world, of expectations. Of life's unpleasantries. Just. Peacefully. Safe.

The little man with the hammer can call again another day. Perhaps I will give him time, attention. But today he can get in the queue, behind SG. Who needs my attention more.


Perry Como, (I think) Catch a Falling Star.

I love those lyrics.
"Catch a falling star,
And put it in your pocket.
Save it for a rain day.

And when that rainy day comes a calling,Some starless night
You'll have a pocket full of starlight...

Those lyrics could be incorrect, & I hope I havent breached copyright!!