Thursday, September 18

 We've fallen into a quite comfortable routine since moving into this unit.  I 'm in the habit of getting out of bed at around 7 o'clock. Marilyn likes to stay in bed for another hour at least but likes me to take her a cup of coffee as soon as the kettle boils. Until recently, I had made a habit of turning on the TV to see what is happening on Youtube; I avoided anything to do with news or current affairs although Trump's antics are rivetting and I generally found time for the reporting of one or two of his most ludicrous antics.  

I often used this time to catch up one of the better UK comedy programs like Have I Got News For You but lately I'm becoming bored with the predictability of these.  In fact, I've become disenchanted with the whole rigmarole of morning TV and often don't turn it on at all.  I'm more likely now to read a book while the house is quiet.

I don't like to analyse my actions and try to make them seem like they are based on some philosophy but I think it's fair to say that my desk is my 'safe space', the place I go when I want to be with my own thoughts and, perhaps, make sense of something which is bothering me.

I just wish I could keep my 'safe space' a bit tidier.  If my desk is supposed to reflect the state of my mind, I should be very worried.  Indeed!

Wednesday, September 17

 

Sometimes I come across a sentence in something I’m reading which stops me in my track.  It might be a reference to somebody I’ve heard about or a word that reminds me of a past experience.  Today it was a question asked, innocently by one character to another.  The question was, “What book have you read which changed your life?”

There’s an assumption there that everyone will experience that life-changing moment, or that people will recognize it when it occurs, and each of those assumptions , of course, is nonsense.  The avid reader of Mills and Boon novels or the devourer of Jack Reacher may never feel the sense of revelation implied by the original question but that’s avoiding the point.  It’s not just about the content of the book being read but it may be about the very act of reading.

If a person is not a reader, their life may be narrower and less invigorating than someone who can experience what it is like to be in someone else’s shoes.  When I read a simple detective story by someone like Stephen Booth, I can vicariously experience what it is like to be on the moors in England in a snowstorm trying to make my way back to my car without a torch.

So, I, of course, have tried to think of the book which changed my life and I can’t get past the book which I was given, I think, for my seventh birthday in 1950.  It was Rubbalong Tales by Enid Blyton.  I couldn’t put it down and I think that book, more than any other, sparked my lifelong love of reading

By the way, I saw a copy of the book for sale on the internet.  It was the 1950 edition with original dustcover and was only $78.  My copy, without dust cover, may still exist, in a box in Jamie’s garage.  I might go looking for it one day.

Tuesday, September 16

 Our Coles order has just been delivered.  The usual Sunday delivery man is a person of mature years with white hair and a very pleasant manner.  He always asks how we are and whether Archie is staying with us.  He's a great asset to the company and, if we were thinking of changing suppliers, we would probably not, juts because of the man who delivers the groceries.

It's a miserable day here.  I've been waiting for  Temu order and the last notification I had is that it arrived in Launceston on Saturday, and was expected to be in my letterbox on Monday or Tuesday.  The next think i should hear is that 'it is on the truck' and will be delivered today.  I don't have that message yet and I wonder what is going on.

Monday, August 15

 I've just dropped Marilyn off at her Probus meeting.  Unlike me, she enjoys them and looks forward to each one.   I think it's the fact of getting dressed up as much as the opportunity for a chat.  Neither of those things works for me so attending my Probus meeting is more of a chore than anything else.

This morning I'm waiting for a parcel from Temu.  The tracker tells me that it has arrived in Launceston so, with a bit of luck it might turn up at any moment.  There's nothing much of any significance in the order but there is a small piece of technology which I will especially enjoy.  It's a small music player which I can carry on my morning walk.  I've had ipods and other players in the past and, in fact, I dug the old ones out to see whether they still worked.  But, time has taken its toll and they've all gone to God.  I checked the local suppliers and nobody seemed to sell what I wanted; Temu gave me a choice of colours and only wanted $21 so the deal was done .I'm keen to see what I get for my money.  I had to make up the order to $50 to get free postage so there are a couple of other delights there as well. But, it's the technology which is the real prize!

Sunday, September 14

Jamie and Nera are in Hobart this weekend so we are baby-sitting Archie.  It's a regular thing and he seems to cope with it very well.  He has routines and favourite toys and sometimes it seems the whole household marches to his drum.  I suppose any dog-owner might say the same.  

The day started off sunny but the sky has clouded over and we might get rain.  We have no plans to do anything.  I can't help wondering what our lives might have been like if we had lived our lives in another environment.  I can't help comparing our lives with that of Steve Marsh whom we follow on Youtube.

Here is what we saw on his video this morning: he woke up on a particular morning in Montrose in Scotland where he lives.  He decided on a whim that he might go somewhere so he walks to the railway station, catches a train to Edinburgh and on to the airport where he takes a cheap flight to Copenhagen.  He arrives there early enough to take another train to Malmo in Sweden, crossing the famous Oresund Bridge on the way.  It's Spring in Europe and the weather is delightful.

A comfortable night in a reasonably priced hotel caps off a great day in which he has managed to visit two foreign countries.

I suppose if we lived near Sydney or Melbourne we could have a similar experience if we flew to Auckland, but I can't imagine it would be as exciting There certainly is a price to pay because we chose to live in Australia.

Saturday, September 13

 After almost 2000 posts to this blog, the program decided it didn't recognise me this morning and that meant I had to go through the rigmarole of remembering my password.  Except, this morning it was different.  Instead of asking for my PIN I was asked for my address.  Okay!  I started to type 2/40 Burghl.. and a list appeared of 5 or 6 possible options and I was surprised to find there were other places in the world where 2/40 Burghley St existed.  There were two in Lincolnshire, UK, for example, another in London and even one in Birchwood, New York.

It's getting harder to be an individual in today's world, isn't it!

I'm thinking about whether I should have a walk this morning.  The weather is cold and I seem to have strained my back.  Yesterday was our exercise class which is a strain in itself but Marilyn and I decided it would be a good idea to walk from there into town to a favourite coffee shop, and back to the car afterwards.  This morning the twinge in my back is telling me that I might have done a little too much.  Nothing is very far from anything else in Longford but we still need to be careful.   

Thursday, September 11

 I don't usually take any notice of the 'Australia's Best ...' competitions which pop up in the media from time to time.  After all, who needs to know that Australia's Best Icecream is found in a little shop in South Australia?  I'll never be there to try it.  But, my interest is piqued by a claim that Australia's Best Vanilla Slice comes from a shop in Campbelltown, Tasmania, just down the road.  Of course the locals call it Australia's Best Snot Block.

The claim is suspect, of course, as it's the proprietor of the shop saying it with no evidence of any procedure to measure one slice against another.

I did note one 'Best Of ..' in today's news.  Somebody has been looking at Australia's small towns and has tried to rate them against each other.  What a job!  And what criteria what you use?  And what an opportunity for corruption!

In any case, I was pleased to see that Deloraine in Tasmania came second.  I have a soft spot for Deloraine, of course, as it's the home of Giant Steps and the world-renowned Deloraine Craft Fair.  I don't know whether any benefits will flow from being chosen as second-best but one can only hope.

Oh, by the way, the winner this year is Fremantle.  My only memory of Fremantle is of Marilyn and i having coffee there when we stepped off a cruise ship many years ago, so I have no idea what sets it apart from any other small town.  Or maybe it was just Western Australia's turn to have a winner.