Tuesday, June 27

One of my reasons for going to the doctor yesterday was to have her look at some lumps which had appeared in the palms of my hands.  I knew what she would say because I had already checked Doctor Google and I knew they were called Dupuytrens Contracture and were associated with people who are descended from Vikings.  The disorder is mostly found in people from Northern Europe, places where the Vikings settled.  Of course, my father's family came from North-Eastern Scotland and, apparently, on a clear day, you can see Norway from there.

The doctor was happy to confirm the diagnosis and mentioned it is often called Viking's Disease.  I was quite pleased to have such an exotic disorder and asked whether it was rare.  "Oh no," she said, "It's very common."  That wasn't what I wanted to hear; I was hoping to have acquired something unusual that I could casually drop into conversation. 

Monday, June 26

It was a beautiful sunny day in Northern Tasmania this morning: a little cold but to good be alive.  I had nothing planned apart from a visit to the doctor for a follow-up to my recent hospital visit.  I wanted to make sure there was nothing lurking around that hadn't been picked up.  It's more of a social visit really.

There was a van parked outside our next door neighbour's: it seems he's having the internet installed.  I'm surprised because we believe he's never there.  Marilyn has decided that he is a fly-in, fly out worker  and she might be right.  Alternatively, he might just be particularly quiet and we don't hear him even when h's in residence.

In any case, we were happy to see the internet van.  We've thought for a while that he's tapping into our system and pinching our bandwidth. Every time ours slows down or buffers, we blame him.  I don't know who we'll blame next time something goes wrong.

Sunday, June 25

 When I had my little trip to hospital the other week, I must have complained about my loss of dexterity and how difficult I'm finding it is to write: not a happy situation for an aspirational writer.  So somebody made an appointment for me to see an Occupational Therapist.

She was a very nice young lady and asked me what I had most difficulty with.  'How do you go with buttons?' she asked.  I said that it was a real struggle and, in fact, the shirt I was wearing was the most difficult.

'If only they made shirts without buttons,' she mused.  It was like a light went on in my head.  They do make shirts without buttons and they call them polo shirts; my wardrobe is full of them. However, old-fashioned as I am, I would never think of wearing a polo shirt to something as formal as a Probus meeting, a doctor's appointment, or a visit to the hospital.  Stupid, I know.

So, the big clear-out begins.  There's a charity bin just outside a house opposite us so, over the next few days, I'll gather up all my cherished formal shirts and donate them to a worthier cause.  Extra benefits include that there will be more room in the wardrobes and I'll be able to indulge myself in some more polos.

Jamie and Nera dropped in yesterday singing the praises of a new on-line store called Temu.  If I downloaded the app and bought something, I'm told, Jamie would get a certain number of points towards a freebie ... so I bought 2 polo shirts!! 

Saturday, Jun 24

 We've had a couple of very cold days but today is a delight: bright sunshine and warm enough to leave our coats at home.  Yesterday was the return of my writing and poetry groups.  I can't understand why the committee thinks it necessary to have holidays: I know we're called the School for Seniors but, really, do we need a break from lessons?

Both groups were a bit short of members.  Because we have to re-enrol each term, we have an ever-changing roster of clientele, and some of our members are quite mobile and often find themselves in Sunny Queensland at this time of the year.  I hope a few more come back next week because there's. nothing worse than a small group of half a dozen trying to read and discuss poetry.

We had three new members in the Writing Group, which is good.  All women, but that can't be helped.  One of them, with a pronounced English accent claims she was born in Wollongong and moved to Manchester when she was young.  I'll have to investigate that further.  When we have new people, we always go around the table and introduce ourselves. Almost everyone complained about how hard it was to get published and some even whinged about not being able to find an agent!   When it was my turn, I announced that I had no interest in publishing and wrote for my own enjoyment.  One or two, happily, agreed with me.   Ross, the leader will have to think about his program because 12 people take a lot more time to read their stories than the 9 we had before.

Thursday, June 22

 It was another cold night and I had to put the heating on as soon as I woke up.  I went off to the gym as usual but, when I finished my routine, I had to drive over to Hadspen to pick up Archie.  Jamie had a mate coming around to replace the railing on their front verandah and he was worried about having a little dog running around when there was work going on.  They don't have a front fence so it would be too easy for something to go wrong.

We had a couple of orders delivered: one from Amazon and one from Coles.  We're buying more and more  on-line to save ourselves the bother of trudging around the supermarket pushing a trolley.  I agree with the concept but my heart always sinks when the Coles man arrives with three or four paper bags and I know my bank has been stung for $150 or more.  I can remember the days when my weekly pocket money was sixpence.

I don't suppose the modern generation even knows what sixpence is.

My writing and poetry groups start back up tomorrow after a break.  I know we call ourselves a 'school' but why do we need holidays?

Thursday, Jun 15

 Jamie was going to Hobart for a meeting and invited Marilyn and me to go with him for company.  We could wander around the shops while he was busy and be company for the trip home.  It meant getting up at 5 o'clock, which was not much fun but we coped.

Hobart was at least 5 degrees colder than Longford and it's much more multi-cultural than the north: more turbans, particularly.  That's OK, of course, but it's a big change from how Hobart was when we first came here in 1975 when it was regarded as Little England.

His meeting was all over by lunchtime so we headed up the road, stopping at Mood Food which has had a serious makeover since we first stopped here nearly 50 years ago.  They now specialise in the many truckies who ply the highway between the two main cities. They have lots of places to park long rigs, good toilets, potato cakes, pies, and sticky buns.  At any time of the day or night you can also hear Bon Jovi on the PA system.  They know their audience.

Sunday, June 11

 It seems that Basketball season is here.  Going to the gym a little later means I stumble across other users and the big thing at the moment is Kids' Basketball.  The first game seems to start around 8.30 which is just before I arrive so I find the carpark has many more cars, there is more noise and there are a lot more little kids wandering around.

There's a certain nostalgia for me, of course, because we spent years taking Jamie to his matches.  There used to be the occasional conflict when one of us would take him while the other looked after another obligation.  I remember one time when a friend, who was a winemaker, rang to say he needed our help in picking some grapes before the rains came.  We were always happy to help but this conflicted with a basketball match.  The game was at 11 o'clock so we arrived at the vineyard at 8.30 to make a start and planned to get away in time for the game.  Marilyn and I started picking and Jamie was allocated to help with the bottling which was all done by hand - with the inevitable spills.

Jamie arrived at his game, reeking of wine.  I don't remember the score but his team-mates reminded him of that ay for years.

Saturday, June 10

For years - ever since I retired, in fact - I have aimed to be out of bed by 7 o'clock ready to start the day.  It suited me and I thought it suited Marilyn as well.  I would make her a cup of coffee which kept her in bed for another hour which gave me time to catch up on some YouTube videos about travels to exotic locations, hopefully by train. 

Recently, since I joined the gym, I have used that early morning time to carry out my exercise routine before the hordes arrive and take over all the machines.

It's all come crashing down!  Last night, Marilyn told me she was tired of my getting up so early.  'It's too long a day,' she said.  She's right: it is getting harder to get up now that winter has set in.  We don't leave the heating on overnight so the house is chilly and there's often frost on the ground when I drive out.  So, this morning, I tried the new routine.  I still woke at 7 but I turned over and closed my eyes again,staggering out around 8.  I made the usual coffee, watched Scott take a train to Corrour, and got to the gym just before 9.  It wasn't busy and I had no trouble with my routine but breakfast when I returned was particularly welcome.

We'll have to see how it goes.

Friday, June 9

It was worth waiting for the Nepalese treat.  Nera brought in servings of goat curry, momos and onion bhaji.  The curry, as expected, was a bit bony (I think they use the ribs) but had a good flavour and the rest was just as delicious. It could become our regular Thursday night meal.

The Coles man has just delivered our order and Archie has enjoyed playing his role as guard dog.  Luckily, he likes to sit on a chair at the front window and bark, so I can shut the door on him in case he tries to get in a little nip.  The last thing I want is to be sued by Coles.

Nothing much else is happening today.  I need to enrol for my next term at the School for Seniors but the 'portal' doesn't open until 11 o'clock.  I don't know how all the computer-illiterate oldies cope with the process although, if all else fails, they can turn up in person on Tuesday and Vicki will write sort them out.

Thursday, June 8

 When we were in Deloraine the other night, we noticed a food van parked in the Main Street.  It was well lit up  with signs saying Kathmandu Food and so on.  Jamie and Nera stopped to check it out and it turns out to be run by a Nepalese fellow who now lives in Deloraine.  In fact, his wife is one of Nera's staff members at the nursing home.

We knew there were a number of Nepalese people recently settled in Deloraine and there's plenty of work for them in the local farms and the nursing homes.  A friend of ours had sponsored this young man to buy his food van and he is doing very well, driving to a different town each night.  Thursday is his day in Deloraine.

I am writing this while waiting for Nera to arrive with a selection of Nepalese goodies, including Goat Curry which we first tried when we were in Nepal in 2010.  Happy memories!

Monday, June 5

 I've just come back from the gym.  As I'm not driving, I'm dependent on cadging a lift and Jamie was available to take me this morning; I like to get there before 8 but Jamie operates on a different timetable and didn't get here to pick me up until 9.45.  Still, I'm grateful for any help I'm offered.

Yesterday, we were leaving the gym around 10 o'clock and there were hordes of kids gathering in the basketball court for a birthday party.  There were balloons everywhere and mums shovelling sausage rolls and cakes onto plates.  One mother came out of the kitchen, dragging a little boy by the hand.

"No, Mum," he was saying.  "I don't want to go home.  I'll be good, I promise.:

"Shut up," she was saying.  "You don't deserve to be at the party.  You weren't invited anyway; you're only here because your sister was invited."  

And they struggled out to the carpark.  Just a little more of life's rich tapestry.

Sunday, June 4

June already!  That means we're almost at the middle of the year and that's worrying.  Time is going too quickly and, when we look back, what is there to show for it?

We've been watching a show called The Tourist, an Australian production shown originally on Stan.  The main character is Irish and there's a very large American with homicidal tendencies.  There are a couple of vaguely Greek crooks and the usual collection of pantomime Aussie characters.  A surprising number of the cast are overweight and one scene is of a Weightwatchers' meeting but we can't work our what that has to do with the show.

We thought the first two episodes were a bit weird but, pressing on, it became reasonably interesting.  Each episode is quite long and, the second last has fallen back into weird mode.  I think it's time to decide that life is too short to watch such rubbish.  So, the decision has been made to write off the few hours already invested in it and switch to a show called Granite Harbour, set in Aberdeen.  It will have to be a step up, even if some of the accents might be a bit of a challenge.