Friday, October 31

 There's a terrible mess outside the front of our unit; I noticed it when I opened the front blinds. An 8-foot section of the paling fence opposite is streaked with bird droppings, The concrete driveway is covered with droppings and the path up to our front door.  There was a mess even under the chairs on our front deck.  When I went out to have a closer look, I noticed that there was just as much mess on the roof.

Clearly, there had been a bird convention here overnight and Marilyn and I, sleeping at the back of the unit had heard nothing.

My first thought was that we had had an influx of seagulls but we are quite a way from the sea, and Jamie suspects the culprits were cockatoos.  Longford is well-known for being a haunt for Black Cockatoos but I rarely see them.  Maybe the purpose of their visit was to remind me that they still exist.

I went for a wander around the other units but none has had the treatment we have enjoyed so it remains a bit of a mystery.

Jamier has promised to bring over his Karcher and we can make an attempt to clean it all up.  

Wednesday, October 29

 It's Garbage Collection day so there's a string of bins lined up in front of our units.  There are five units in our set , so ten bins this week.  The kerb space between our driveway and the one next door isn't wide enough to accommodate the ten bins so Paul from Unit 1 leaves his the front of the next house.  The -other eight bins fit snugly in the available space with about 15cm between each one and the next.  Looks alright to me.

However, Bertine from Unit 5 isn't happy.  She thinks they're too close together so she hung around one morning  to chat with the garbage men.  She reported back that they would like half a metre between each bin so that it would be easier for them to manipulate their grabber between them to pick them up.  I suggested that the only way that this might happen is if a couple of us dragged our bins to another section of the street, in front of someone else's house.  Would she like to volunteer?

Nothing's happened about that of course and the garbos seem to have retained the skill to fit the arms of the grabber between the bins.

Sunday, 26 October 2025

 There was a celebration in Deloraine yesterday to mark the 30th Anniversary of the establishment of Giant Steps School for Autism.  For the first five years it muddled along under the direction of a group of parents but when it was a bit more established they decided to appoint a Principal.  I started at the beginning of 2000 and I think it was the most interesting period of my working life.

There was more to the job than managing the program.  I found myself being advocate for the school, negotiating with and educating government, fund-raising and extending the school's footprint by buying adjoining properties and building extra classroom space.

It's been over fifteen years since I retired and there have been three other principals since then.  The current boss was appointed by me in about 2005 as a Teacher Aide and has now taken on the job as Principal.  The school is unrecogniseable with new buildings and reorganisation of facilities.  When I became Principal there was always the danger that we would have to close our doors but those days are long gone.

It was great to see that Giant Steps has gone from strength to strength and is now very well-established.  It's nice to think that I played a role in that.

Friday, October 24

 I came across an interesting story this morning about a group of convicts who escaped from Tasmania in about 1830, hijacked a merchant ship called the Cyprus and sailed it towards New Zealand, through the Chatham Islands, past Tonga and along the coast of China before arriving at a small island called Tebajima in the south of Japan.  The local population of Samurai families were very suspicious of the intruders and frightened them away with cannon fire.

This is probably the first encounter between Japan and Australia, and not very diplomatic.

Our cleaner is here this morning, a young man from Nepal, so I'm hanging around at my desk until he leaves and I can get my shower.  It's all very well having home-help but I resent the invasion of my privacy.  Marilyn and I have an exercise class this afternoon.

Thursday, October 23

 I hate it when I'm shown to be wrong about something.  It's bad enough when it's another person pointing out my mistake and I just have to put on a brave face and accept that I'm not infallible.  But, it's worse when it's my own sub-conscious that points out my error.  Although, at least I don't need to admit my fault publicly.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking about a bloke I know in Deloraine who shares my birthday and I boldly said that he was the only other person I know who does.  Thinking back, there may have been a slight feeling of disquiet, that it was a careless statement and that, at some time in the future it would come back to bite me.

Today was the day.  In fact, it was early this morning when I was still in bed and  my subconscious rang a little warning bell in my brain.  It wasn't a polite bell; in fact, if I had to categorise it, it was a peal of bells, highlighting the carelessness of my statement.

Yes, I had forgotten my childhood friend and class-mate at Blantyre Public School in Scotland. Matthew Scott was born on the same day that I was and we ended up in the same class at school.  The last day I saw Matthew would have been about December 9th or 10th, 1950 and I haven't heard from him since.  Perhaps I can be forgiven for leaving his memory back in the mists of time.

Wednesday, October 22

 Marilyn and I both have places to be today but an executive decision has been made that we will ignore them and stay home.  Marilyn would normally be at her Craft Group/Bingo and my Probus Club is visiting the local Police Station but it's a miserable day, grey and pouring with rain, so we'll stay indoors and stay dry.

The local Police Station is, apparently, a state-of-the-art facility and well worth a visit ... but not today.

Yesterday I went to the Exercise Group which meets at Toosey the local Old Folk's Home.  Marilyn usually comes with me but wasn't feeling up to it.  We go twice a week; there are usually a dozen of us on Friday but only five or six in the Tuesday group.  Yesterday, I was the only one to turn up.  I though the Physiotherapist who runs it would pull the plug but she decided that, as I had taken the trouble to attend, I would have the hour's session to myself.  I don't know how much I would have been charged if I had booked an individual session but it certainly would have been money well-spent.  Emma asked what I would l like to focus on and I suggested balance so I was given the benefit of her expertise in an area which is becoming a concern.

It was hard work, of course, but well worth it and I don't know when I might have an opportunity like this again.

Monday, October 21

 It's a glorious day here in Longford and all the farmers and other exhibitors will be getting busy dismantling their stalls at the local show which was held over the weekend.  Marilyn and I haven't been to a show for years.  Back in the 60s, we always made a day out at the Sydney Royal Easter Show and, when we came back to Tasmania we often found ourselves involved in one way or another with the local event.  Giant Steps would often have a van selling ice cream or I would take a group of our students to wander around looking at the sights.

I often wonder, though, at the relevance of traditional shows in the modern world.  Is there still a place for showing off your prize bull or chickens.  When I'm faced with a question like that I usually turn to the internet to see what I should be thinking and when I googled 'What is the relevance today of Australian country shows?' I was firmly put in my place.  Of course, I was told, they are still relevant, 'Country shows are the heartbeat of so many rural communities. They not only celebrate the 'best of the best' but allow visitors to experience the tastes, sights and sounds of the bush.'

I shouldn't be surprised that the above quote came for the website of the National Party who might be a touch biased but I'm prepared to admit I'm not a typical resident of a country town.

Apparently there are still about 580 Agricultural Shows each year in Australia so they must be doing something right and I was surprised to find that the first ever show in Australia was held in Hobart in 1822. Still, Marilyn and I probably won't be planning to visit next year's show in Longford.

Sunday, October 20

 The question which is exercising my mind this morning is 'how much portable technology is too much?'  I only started to think about this after a chance remark from Jamie set my brain working.  I was sitting in my chair, minding my own business, when he walked in.  "Look at you," he said, "With all your technology around you."

I had my 10-inch tablet in my hand, completing a jigsaw puzzle.  On the table beside me was my 7-inch tablet which I use for the internet, my ebook reader, my mobile phone and the music player I take on my morning walk.

Is that an unreasonable amount of technology?  To my mind, I would be unhappy to cope with less.  Maybe the phone could double as a music player or I could browse the internet on my games tablet.  But it wouldn't be as .. something!  I like the set-up I have put in place and I think I deserve a little indulgence after how hard I've worked over 50 years.

Anyway, Jamie can't criticise; he's notorious for cherishing his collection of sound equipment and he can't resist adding to his stash.  

Let him who is without sin, ....

Saturday, October 19

I had always understood that this blog would come to an end one day.  I knew it would end with a bang or a whimper, but not which one.  Perhaps I would made the decision that it had fulfilled its purpose and deserved a decent burial so I would construct a one-off spectacular last hurrah, a post which would leave a positive lasting impression.  Or, more likely it would creak to a halt like a derelict bicycle, with flat tyres and squeaky handlebars.

Looking back over the past week or ten days I think the second possibility is the more likely.  There's not one post which could claim to leave any lasting impression, nor claim any relevance.  There have been almost as many vacant days, where I haven't posted a single word, as days when I scratched together a reasonably relevant comment.

However, I'm not ready to throw in the towel yet.  After all, what would I find to replace it?  I've always known that I don't write for the audience; I write for my own satisfaction.  Having realised that, the blog will continue but with a clearer focus.  Of course, it started as a travel diary and morphed into something else, without any real understanding in my mind what that might be..

In future, I'll write only when I have something to say, it won't be a diary of what we are doing but more a vehicle for putting down my thoughts on issues which flit through my brain from time to time.  I don't expect anyone will find it interesting but I might and that's all that matters.

I'll start with my thoughts on a video I watched this morning on Youtube.  It was of one of my 'regulars', Steve who, with his wife Alicjia, was in Switzerland, climbing up the Matterhorn to a restaurant high on the slopes.  It was breathtaking and surprisingly difficult.  The two of them must be reasonably fit but they were certainly stretched by the experience, especially Steve who almost threw in the towel.  Only Alicjia's 'positivity' kept them going.  It was a good lesson in how people can rise to the occasion when it is necessary.  And, of course, although I have never been to Switzerland, the video helped me recall experiences I had in the Snowy Mountains and in Tasmania.  All positive!

Thursday, October 16

 I'm waiting for a parcel from Temu. I can follow its progress on the Australia Post app and was pleased when I noted yesterday it had arrived at St Leonards, the local AP depot.  That should mean a delivery this afternoon.  However, on checking this morning, I find the message INCORRECTLY SORTED AND FORWARDED TO CORRECT LOCATION MORNINGTON TASMANIA.

Mornington is miles away, closer to Hobart than to Longford.  So, some geographically-challenged AP employee has diverted my parcel to a depot miles away from here.

Oh, well, I suppose it will get here eventually.

It's one of the drawbacks of ordering on-line but I've been doing it for years and seldom had a problem. I think my first foray into what used to be called mail order shopping was when I was at school.  I had picked up a brochure from the counter of a Shell Service Station which invited me to fill in a form detailing a road trip I was planning and they would send me free maps to help me on my way.  I invented a trip to the Gold Coast, sent it off and the maps duly arrived.  I was hooked.

Since then, I've bought stuff from a hundred on-line suppliers.  Sometimes it goes wrong but, in most cases, the parcel arrives as expected.  I have just ordered a cover from Kogan for my new tablet.  They have acknowledged the order and noted that it should arrive by January 3.  January 3?  Has somebody typed the wrong date or is there a backload in deliveries from China?  I wait to see.

Sunday, October 12

 I woke up this morning with a few words of poetry in my head.  

'There is sweet music here,

That softer falls 

Than petals from blown roses

On the grass.'

What on earth was I dreaming about, that the residual memory was about blown roses?  I know the quotation comes from a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson and I probably learned it at Gwynneville Primary School where Mr Fuller was a great fan of Tennyson but this morning I can't even remember whether I've taken my tablets.

I realise the problem.  My head is so full of stuff I learnt over seventy years ago that there's no room left for what I need to know today.

Saturday, October 11

 It's another gloomy day in Longford.  I've already been to the supermarket to pick up a few things and the rest of the day spreads out ahead of me.  We have nothing much planned so we'll probab,y catch up on our reading.  

It's surprising how quickly the days pass even though we have very little to do.

Friday, October 10

 Over the past couple of nights we've been watching a TV mini-series called Karen Pirie.  It's Series 2 in fact and is based on a novel by Val McDermid.  I think it is probably one of the best TV dramas I have ever watched.  Set in Scotland, it features a couple of actors I remember: James Cosmo who seems to have been in everything and John Michie I remember from Taggart. I'm now looking around for something else to watch which might come close to matching it.  I'm not confident.

It's a shocking day here in Northern Tasmania: strong winds and persistent rain.  We're looking after Archie because Jamie and Nera had a big function last night and didn't want to leave him at home.  Sandra, our cleaning lady is here and I'm sheltering at my desk to keep out of her way.  This afternoon is our regular exercise class at Toosey but, unless the weather improves, we might be tempted to give it a miss. 

Wednesday, October 8

 It's been a busy morning so I'm late in writing this blog.  I've just come in from my Probus meeting where the guest speaker(s) were from the Commonwealth Bank talking about scams and how we might deal with them.  The young woman was very clear and articulate but the young man had two irritating habits; he said Um before every sentence and mumbled as well.  

It wasn't a topic which interested me particularly and they had nothing particularly interesting to say.  On the way out I commented to one of the other members that we didn't have these problems before computers were invented and he told me about his early days in politics.  He started work at the local meatworks and became a Union Organiser.  To keep track of his members he had a little wooden box which contained a card for each member.  Dick had to remember to keep every card up to date.  But he didn;t have to deal with online scams.

Tuesday, October 7

 Another day, another dollar!  When you're over 80, there's a sameness about the days which unfold before you and there's also that nagging worry about how many days are left. Not to become too morbid, of course, but we are all mortal.  When I was younger and looked at old people who sat in their lounge chairs letting the world pass them by, I thought that I wouldn't let that happen to me.  I'd stay busy, travelling, involving myself in 'good works', studying ... And those old men and women I observed were all younger than I am now.  When I was 25, most 'old' people were in their 60s or 70s and very few survived into their 80s.

Nowadays, thanks to modern medicine and, in my case, clean living, it's not unusual to be still hale and hearty at 85.  I think I am still fairly hale and hearty but, really, I'm not interested in gallivanting or carousing or kicking up my heels.  A good day for me is seeing the sun shining though the window when I wake up in the morning, a short walk to the end of the street and a few good meals and cups of coffee. If a parcel arrives from Temu or Kogan, that's a bonus.

I've already heard from the Post Office that a parcel will arrive today; I believe it's only a replacement remote for the television but it will still feel like Christmas morning.

Monday, October 6

Another trip this morning to the pathologist for a blood test.  The last one I had showed a slight anaemia so the doctor wants a follow-up.  Luckily the pathologist comes to the local doctor's surgery each morning so I don't have to traipse into town.  Still, it's a pain having to get tidied up and sit in a waiting room with all the other sick people.

Jamie came in the other morning to set up a new lamp on my desk.  I've had a little one for years but it's pretty useless.  If I want it to shine on the keyboard or the section of the desk where I write, I find it too close to my eyes and I have to switch it off.  The new one is a narrow CR tube about 50cm long on a flexible  support which is positioned just above eyebrow level on my left.  It gives me good light on my keyboard and doesn't interfere with the computer screen.

I wouldn't say it's attractive but you can't have everything.

Sunday, October 5

We're totally confused today.  Somehow we missed the fact that today is the start of Daylight Saving so when we woke up our phones showed a different time to the clocks in the house.  I know how it happened; we never watch the news on TV, listen to the radio or read a newspaper.  We can't be the only people in the world who live in a self-imposed cocoon but it works for us.

Anyway, we started the day with a late breakfast and it's now past time for morning tea.  We should be caught up by this evening.

A couple of weeks ago I bought  a rubber foot from Temu for my walking stick.  I am forever dropping my stick and when it is lying on the ground I find it hard to pick up.  The foot allows me to stand the stick up beside me and it's on hand when I need it.  Marilyn was impressed and I ordered her one as well.

When she went to her Probus meeting, a couple of other members asked her where she had found them so Marilyn generously agreed to get them one each.  At our exercise class on Friday, we took orders for two more.  I didn't ever imagine I'd get into this business but I've just sent off a Temu order which contains a request for four more. It's an interesting prospect but I don't think I have the energy to turn it into a money-making venture.

This is Post #2002.  I seem to have snuck past the 2000 target when I wasn't looking so I'll have to find another end-point to aim for.

Saturday, October 4

 Marilyn is going out for lunch today with the ladies from her Probus club.  They're driving into Launceston to a very nice Chinese restaurant where they will, no doubt, wine and dine to a high standard.  Am I invited? No! It seems, in Longford, hsubaands and wives lead separate social lives.

I've commented before that the two Probus Clubs in town maintain a strict gender divide.  Few wives come to the Men's Christmas Lunch and men are not even invited to the similar function at the Women's club.  Having said that, Marilyn and I were surprised yesterday to receive an invitation to a Morning Tea at the home of one of the Probus ladies.  Her husband is a member of the men's club so maybe they're trying to mend the fences.  We'll see!

It's overcast today but I don't expect it to rain.  I might mow the lawn while Marlyn is out or I might not.  We'll see.

Friday, October 3

 A few weeks ago we bit the bullet and decided to buy Marilyn another tablet.  She had been using an 8-inch one which was a hand-me-down from me and it really wasn't suitable for the jigsaw puzzles and other games she likes to play.  As I've mentioned before, we're becoming much more sedentary and need to keep our brains active while we are confined to our chairs.  We bought a very nice 10-inch Lenovo tablet from Officeworks and she is delighted with it.

Reading through the details of the Kogan sale the other day, Marilyn noticed a similar tablet with the Kogan brand at a greatly reduced price.  Being the generous soul she is , she ordered one for me.  It arrived a couple of days ago and I couldn't wait to install a few activities, among them a BIG crossword.  It's so big that it doesn't fit on the screen and only small sections are displayed at one time.  

The instructions tell me that the puzzle has 1284 clues.. I can't resist a challenge but I'm getting to the stage where I need to move on.  I haven't managed to finish it but, apparently, I have successfully completed 1019 answers (which is 79%) and have been working on the puzzle for 11 hours, 33 minutes and 36 seconds.  Has my life come to this?  It seems I can work out each answer in an average of 88 seconds.  I'll count that as a victory.

THE BOARDING HOUSE

It was a big step for me, taking a job in the capital city and having to find a place to live.  PeopIe would say I was old enough (and ugly enough) to cope but I had lived a sheltered life, looked after by a conscientious mother and a father who made no demands on me.  I suppose I had expected that I would stay at home with my meals provided and all my washing done until I found the right young woman who would marry me and cheerfully take over those responsibilities.

But now I had accepted this job away from home, without properly considering the implications.  I would have to get my head around so many things: where would I live, what would I do about meals, how would I be sure I had a clean shirt each morning, and so on?  My fiancée thought it might be unwise of me to take a flat because there would be just too many things for me to think about and I might forget to eat or change my underwear.  She thought the best thing for me to do would be to go to a boarding house.  I know it makes me look like a wimp, but I found her confidence reassuring.

We found just the thing in Randwick, a short walk from where I was working.  It was a typical, 2-storey Federation House.  Two women were taking on this house as a new venture, hoping to tap into the potential market of young men involved in the racing industry: jockeys, strappers and so on.  I had the choice of a single room or a shared one, which was considerably cheaper.  I wasn’t sure about sharing, especially with a jockey, so I opted for a single room even though the cost of the accommodation was about half of my weekly wage.

The first few nights were difficult.  I knew there were other people in the house and I could hear noises from time to time but there were still several empty rooms and, in any case, everybody else in the house was a stranger.  I know I spent sleepless hours wondering whether I had made the right decision to change careers and whether I should have stayed in my previous occupation but continue to enjoy the sanctuary of familiar surroundings.

After a few weeks, I began to sense that this new venture was not proving to be the success that had been hoped for.  Apart from me and two other young men in another room, there were no other paying guests, and there was not a jockey in sight.  The two women who were the proprietors were starting to show signs of stress and I wondered how long this establishment could stay open.  Surely, the rents of the three tenants were not enough to pay all the bills.

One morning, when I awoke, the sun was shining through the window and I sensed it was going to be a great day.  I showered and dressed and presented myself at the dining room to be greeted by broad smiles on the faces of the faces of the proprietors.

“Great news,” one of them said to the assembled trio. “We’ve been approached by the owner of a local business to offer accommodation to a number of his staff.  There will be five guests coming within the next few days and perhaps a few more as time goes on.  You’ll be pleased to hear that the first group are all female; young women who work at various jobs in the club.  Most of them work in the evenings so you might hear them coming and going quite late at night. I know this is not what you expected when you came here and we would understand if you decided the arrangement would not suit you.  We won’t expect you to give notice if you feel you would prefer to leave.”

You won’t be surprised to hear that we all decided, on reflection, that we would stay.  It only occurred to me later that my fiancée might not be so keen on the arrangement.

Thursday, October 2

 Well, we tried it, gave it our best shot but NEVER AGAIN!  After Marilyn's trip to the doctor, we called into JJ's coffee shop for lunch and thoroughly enjoyed it.  Woolworths looked busy but we weren't intimidated; after all, we were used to shopping there when we lived in Mowbray.  I pushed the trolley and Marilyn carried the list.

Have I said it already?  NEVER AGAIN.  I'd forgotten how obnoxious some people can be, using their trolleys as weapons to get to the shelves first.  And, we don't know where anything else is any more.  Marilyn asked one poor fellow stacking the shelves where we could find Bubble and Squeak.  When he looked blank, she just said it louder.  It reminded me of the Fawlty Towers sketch where Manuel couldn't understand what Basil was saying.  I expected the poor shelf-stacker in Woolworths to use the famous line Que?  But I think he was Nepalese, not Spanish.

We've decided we'll accept our limitations, let our fingers do the walking (as I said yesterday), and let Coles do the hard work.  Because of our sacrifice several people have jobs: the person who follows our list and collects the stuff from the shelves, the chick who checks it out, and the fellow who delivers it to our door.  The delivery man, especially, deserves our support.  he is an older bloke, very cheerful and loves dogs.