Monday, 1st August …..

The sun’s shining again today but the forecast is for more rain so there are no workmen on site. It was all go on Friday with Les and I starting on the enclosing of the back verandah and Trevor and Brendan here to finish the laying of the slab.

Les is a bit casual in the way he works so we had no drawings of what the construction should look like and our tools were not really up to the job. We held the lengths of wood against the side of the house until they looked right and then attached them to the existing verandah with bugle screws. After we had the fourth one up, we realised we hadn’t allowed enough space at the top to attach the roof beams. Clearly there were two options. Get up a ladder and cut a bit off each upright with a hand saw or take them down and start again.

We opted for the latter. We also needed to upgrade our tools, too, so work stopped for the day. We were using cordless drills to put in the 100mm screws and they just didn’t have enough grunt. Les has a more powerful drill at home so will bring that back next time. Jamie and I went to Bunnings (great shop!) on Saturday morning and bought a light-weight drill and a fantastic box of all the drill bits we might conceivably want. Cheap Chinese stuff, of course, but will look great in our new shed.

It was a bit daunting for me to be posing as a builder when there were two real builders on site laying the slab. By mid-morning, the road base had been put in and they were waiting for the cement truck which arrived around noon. First problem! It got bogged about 50m from where the cement had to be poured. After a frantic phone call, another truck arrived and pulled him out. On the second attempt, taking a different route, it bogged again. There’s nothing for it, said Trevor, we’ll have to use barrows. Another phone call and two barrows arrived.

One of them was motorised!. I’ve never seen one before and I can imagine it will cut down on the difficulties of pushing a heavy barrow across rough ground. However, it only worked for about three loads before it broke down. For some mechanical reason, it can’t be used manually so, if the motor stops, the barrow is just another heap of junk. So, they were down to one barrow to move all the concrete. Because the weather was threatening, they had ordered a quick-drying mixture and time was getting away.

It was after 5 oçlock before Trevor was able to leave it but the final result was great.

In the way of the bush, a wallaby hopped across it during the night leaving a permanent reminder of the other residents of the area.

I think we were premature in cancelling work for today. There’s no sign yet of the rain and we’re missing out on some very productive time. I’ll finish this writing and get on with washing down the sides of the house. You can see in one of the pictures the sort of dirt which is all over the panels. Jamie tells me it is jet exhaust from the planes flying low into Launceston. Whatever it is, it is sticky and I have to use a stiff brush and a bleach mixture to move it. I might try out the Karcher pressure washer to see whether it might make my job a little easier.

Wednesday, 27th July …..

The world of paint has entered an age where the naming of different colours has become a major undertaking. Once upon a time we would have a choice of Cream or Pale Green, Primrose or Duck Egg Blue. But now we are faced with a myriad of colours with bizarre names. I glanced at a Dulux paint chart and found Precious Pink, Wiggle, Ginger Crumb, Caramel Sundae, Rainmaker, Oath and Plumburn, among hundreds of others.

What colour is Oath? Wiggle, I note is Green. Is there a Green Wiggle?

Clearly the names are intended to suggest an emotional response. Caramel Sundae is a classic example: cool and sweet, a real comfort. Rainmaker, a bluey-grey, makes sense, and so does Ginger Crumb.

In our little house where the paint is being touched up, we only have a handful of colours but it’s a pretty good sample of what you might expect if you are starting to decorate. The walls are Hogsbristle, the red wall in the kitchen is Carmen Miranda, a couple of grey doors are Mineshaft, a small patch of brown in the lounge is Cordovan and the wardrobe doors are Blushing Beige. It’s wonderful!

I’m expanding my reading this week following a worrying after-taste which I experienced after finishing The Unnecessary War. In fact, the author, Patrick J Buchanan, started Chapter 1 by stating:

ALL ABOUT US we can see clearly now that the West is passing away.
In a single century, all the great houses of continental Europe fell. All the empires that ruled the world have vanished. Not one European nation, save Muslim Albania, has a birthrate that will enable it to survive through the century. As a share of world population, peoples of European ancestry have been shrinking for three generations. The character of every Western nation is being irremediably altered as each undergoes an unresisted invasion from the Third World. We are slowly disappearing from the Earth.
Having lost the will to rule, Western man seems to be losing the will to live as a unique civilization as he feverishly indulges in La Dolce Vita, with a yawning indifference as to who might inherit the Earth he once ruled.

He didn’t come over as just another right-wing zealot ranting about immigration. His argument is that, for 300 years European nations provided the leadership which brought world development but during the 20th century their stupidity has weakened them to such an extent that they are swiftly being side-lined by the growth of other cultures. Maybe that’s OK. Maybe it’s time for a change and the rise of new cultures could bring benefits. But, maybe it’s not all positive and do we really understand what the world will be like in 50 years, or even 20?

There has been a flurry of comments about the failure, in European countries of multi-culturalism. This debate was re-visited following the tragedy in Norway this week so I thought I would download what is being said by people such as David Cameron and Angela Merkel, and so on. The difficulty in following the discussion is to avoid the racist rants of the radio shock-jocks, but there must be some intelligent words among the dross. I’m assuming this debate might have a great deal to do with elements of our population who choose to live apart from other Australians, transplanting their culture from their native land, without any wish to adopt the way-of-life which has evolved since Europeans first came here more than 200 years ago. I gather, also, that the word multi-cultural is good (as it recognises the diversity in our population) but multi-culturalism is bad (as it has led to groups setting themselves apart from the rest of the population, and outside the laws of the land). Could be interesting.

Sunday, July 25th …..

On one of their trips to Scotland, probably in the late-1970s or early-1980s, my mother and father brought back a wooden plaque with the purported Christie family crest attached. It was quite a nice piece of work, with a background of the Christie tartan, the clan motto and a depiction of a tree-stump with new growth coming from it. The motto was Sic Virilis, translated as Thus I Flourish. Apparently we are know as Christie of Glenfarg, which is a small village in Perthshire in Scotland, on the M90 between Dunfermline and Perth itself.

The plaque was displayed on the wall of each place we lived until we packed up the flat at Grammar, so it is now in a box in the storage shed. No doubt I will find it one day. I looked on the internet to see whether I could find an image of the crest but haven’t found the exact one. However, there are several others, with slightly differing depictions of the three stump. It is interesting that it seems universally agreed that the Christie crest is an oak stump with new growth, but the motto seems now to be Sic Viresco, which can be translated I Flourish Again

The reason I mention this today is that I found in my wanders around the block, a tree stump with a healthy new growth coming from the side. Is it an omen? Perhaps not, but it is certainly a welcome sight.

It’s all go here today. A fellow arrived very early with a digger on the back of his truck, ready to level out the spots for the shed and a possible future little cabin. His name is Bob and, soon after he arrived, Trevor pulled up in his truck with all the stuff needed to peg out the areas to be levelled. I can’t believe how much soil Bob has taken out and it has certainly added to the piles we have from Graeme and Patsy’s previous excavations. So, our thoughts are now focussing on imaginative (and quite large) rockeries. Bob’s on an hourly rate and I can see the dollars ticking away. Still, he keeps at it so there’s no time being wasted.

Les, the handyman, is also here, catching up on some of the minor jobs we have for him to do. There’s not really much to do but there are a few jobs which Jamie and I can’t tackle. Jamie is around, keeping an eye on things and getting his whipper-snipper ready to attack the rockery once Bob has taken his machine away.

The cat is having a wonderful time. She loves new vehicles coming into the yard and runs to check them out. I don’t think she has seen anything as big as Bob’s truck and she has climbed all over it. We always have to check when visitors leave that she is not still in their car.

Saturday, 23rd July …..

I heard a new word this week. Perhaps I hear them all the time but they don’t normally register. I know the various dictionaries around the world add new words all the time and they have some kind of criteria they apply before a word is accepted, but radio announcers and magazine writers love to get hold of a new word and use it to death.

I remember when some illiterate football commentator used the phrase ‘going forward’ to mean ín the future’. Within days, it was being said by everyone, even the Prime Minister. It’s a horrible phrase and I cringe when I hear it.

I can also remember when the prefix i was first use by Apple when they released the iMac. Now it’s everywhere. Pod is another growth word. First space pod, then iPod, and now we have everything from coffee pods to furniture pods.

The word which caught my attention this week was man-drought. Ha! Apparently, if the ratio of men to women in a particular area falls away from 50:50, there’s a man-drought (or, more seriously, a woman-drought!). With the census coming up, predictions are being made that in some areas of Australia, particularly on the east coast, and in Glenorchy and Launceston in Tasmania, there will only be 47 or 48 men to every woman. Apparently, it is caused by the migration of men to the west to work in the mines, leaving the women behind to keep the home fires burning.

It makes you think, though. I was watching Ready, Steady, Cook this week and there was certainly a man-drought in the audience. However, apart from all that, I’m adding man-drought to my list of useless words, which also includes man-bag and man-hug.

Wednesday, 20th July …..

Sadly, Madi will be going home today. She has been in Launceston for just a week but has school awaiting her back in Brisbane. It has been great having her and Jamie, particularly, has enjoyed the short time with her.

Nothing much else is happening for us. We’re still waiting for the replacement parts for the car and there’s still a bit to be done to the new pantry but, with a little bit of luck, it will all come together today. Jamie stayed here last night so I won’t let him go home until the pantry is done.

I’ve been musing on a report I heard on the radio the other day about an archaeological project to take DNA samples from Egyptian mummified ibises. Wow! It seems that mummification of animals was common in Ancient Egypt and around 10,000 ibises were mummified each year for thousands of years, so there are, literally, millions of mummified ibises available for the project, Wow, again!

The plan, of course, is to track the evolution of DNA over a 4000 year period. As a benchmark, the scientists will also take samples from a modern population of Sacred Ibises in Africa.

When I checked the internet for information about mummification practices in Egypt, it seems that almost any kind of animal could be mummified, from bulls to snakes. Cats were popular. Some of the mummifications were of pets but others were to do with religion. Offering a mummified ibis was something like lighting a candle in memory of a dead relative.

For a change of pace this week, I set aside my crime fiction for a history book about the causes of the First World War. The book is called Churchill, Hitler and “The Unnecessary War”. The author suggests that poor decision making in that pre-war period laid the groundwork for thirty years of unbelievable carnage (he says that WW2 is just a second phase of the one conflict). One of the interesting points raised is that Kaiser Wilhelm did everything he could to avoid war with Britain but Churchill was determined to have the conflict. The excuse of helping brave little Belgium was flimsy at best. And the Treaty of Versailles was a travesty; even at the time, sensible people saw the seeds of WW2.

The other fall-out of the decisions made at this time led directly to the demise of Britain as a world power. At the beginning of the 20th Century, Britain was the centre of the largest empire ever seen; by the end of WW2, it was a spent force.

US President Wilson’s dictum of self-determination, coined in the 1910s, has led to the fragmentation of European states and the setting up of tiny, unsustainable countries around the world. It continues today with the formation just this month of South Sudan. It seems that every minority now wants to be self-governing: the Basques, the Kurds, the Tamils, Western Australians all want to have their own separate countries. Where will it end?

It seems that my brain is starting to get its act together after 18 months of post-retirement stagnation and I’m craving intellectual stimulation. Maybe I should go back to Uni.

Sunday, 17th July …..

Marilyn and I have the house to ourselves this weekend and we’re planning to do almost nothing. Madeleine has been with us since Tuesday, staying in our little spare bedroom, and Jamie has been sleeping in the caravan. It’s been great, of course, having them with us but it’s also nice to have our space back.

Yesterday, I picked up the flat-pack pantry from Bunnings and, with the help of a handyman friend, the carcase is complete and I just have to attach the end panel and the two doors. I’m very impressed with flat-packs as they take the worry out of building and even dummies like me can end up with a good result.

Les, the handyman, had called in to have a look at some jobs we have listed for him to do: painting, putting a balustrade on the front verandah, and so on. He used to do a lot of work for us at Giant Steps and, although he lives in Deloraine, he’s happy to take on interesting jobs, especially if they are inside and keep him out of the winter chills.

This pantry is enormous. It’s 900mm wide and 2200mm high, standing on six adjustable legs. It also weighs a tonne. The instructions stated that it would take two of us to stand it on its end, and that was exactly right. However, now it is in place, and screwed securely to the wall, we won’t have to lift it again.

Marilyn took Madi shopping on Friday while I collected my car from service. It needed new bushes in the front end and that’s a reasonably big job so I had to leave it overnight. When I got back to the garage, they had noticed the steering wheel was a quarter-turn out of alignment. This is not good! The mechanics went over every stage of the process and finally agreed that the new steering assembly was faulty. So, a new one has been ordered and the car will have to go back on Tuesday or Wednesday for the job to be done again. I’ve got the car back in the meantime but it’s not driving well.

Back to the shopping. Marilyn said that it was a very enjoyable experience. Shopping trips in the past have not always been a pleasure as Madi has opinions and doesn’t like to be told what to do. On this trip to visit us, she has been a delight. She’s supposed to fly home today or tomorrow but she has met a couple of friends she made on a previous time here and wants to catch up with them. I think she’s realising that Tassie may not be an altogether dreadful place to live.

I had three trips to Deloraine last week, for one reason or another. The organisation of the Craft Fair is heating up and this year’s Director has asked me to take on a few specific jobs. I’m happy to do these but have suggested he might repay the favour next year when I take over. This year’s exhibition is to be Fine Furniture and I have the job of liaising with the curator. I’m also involved with a quilt competition and the subsequent display, and helping to arrange the visit of a noted French artist who has offered to run some master-classes (for want of a better term). Marilyn and I were right in having a break from travel because the Craft Fair becomes all-consuming.

We have no plans for this coming week but no doubt it will turn out to be as busy as ever. We’re hoping our shed will be built soon so we can start buying the tools we need to get this block in order. We have a gardener coming in at the end of the week to start tidying up some of the grass out the front, but we can’t afford to be forever paying someone else to do what we can do ourselves, if we had the right tools. And we can’t get the right tools until we have a decent shed to put them in.

Friday, 15th July …..

I know today is Friday because the little box where I keep my pills reminds me; the Thursday pills have gone so today must be Friday. The little box with seven compartments, helpfully marked with the initial letter of each day of the week, was invented for people like me who are never sure what day it is.

When you’re at work, when each day brings specific challenges, it’s not hard to keep track but, when you’re retired, and have stopped getting the daily paper, there’s a sameness about days and it’s hard to tell them apart (and does it really matter?)

All over Australia, seniors like me are taking out their pill-boxes this morning, noting what day it is and congratulating themselves on holding on for another day.

The pill box is not a bad system for identifying the days but it has a flaw: when it is full, I have to scratch my head to work out which compartment to open first. That’s when I turn to my iPhone which is very happy to tell me, on demand that today is Friday, 15th July.

We’re told that prisoners keep track of the passing of their sentence by scratching on the wall of their cell: six vertical scratches and a horizontal one to mark off each week. We seniors keep track of the weeks by taking out our daily pills until out little box is empty and that denotes a week has passed. And Marilyn and I disconsolately say to each other, ‘That’s another week gone. I can’t believe how quickly time is passing.’ And that’s one reason I get behind in posts to my blog. Time is passing so quickly, I can’t keep up.

Our grand-daughter, Madeleine is staying with us at the moment. She is based in Brisbane, of course, but has just come down to Tassie for a few days to enjoy the weather. This morning is well below zero and there’s a heavy frost. However, Madi won’t see it as, like all teenagers, she doesn’t get up until mid-morning, and the sun will have cleared everything by then.

We have a busy day ahead of us. I have to pick up the car which is being serviced and then collect a flat-pack pantry from Bunnings. Jamie and I will then have the challenge of putting it together. Still, after my recent success with the desk and filing cabinet, and a great little metal wardrobe unit, I am looking forward to showing off my skills once again.

Sunday, 3rd July …..

It’s a quiet, wet day here in Dilston – a time for quiet reflection and catching up on some of the chores around the house. Marilyn has a folding clothes dryer in front of the heater covered with yesterday’s washing which is not quite dry. About 10 minutes ago, the thing collapsed in a heap – damp sheets and socks, and lots of white plastic rods. I’ve just managed to join all the bits together; it looks the same but I just hope it will hold together. I’ve suggested to Marilyn that she avoids putting heavy things on the extremities of the contraption as I suspect that’s what caused it to collapse.

I spent half an hour this morning downloading and sorting out a few more ebooks for my collection. When I bought the new reader in December, I decided to start a new collection. There were over 1000 books in the previous library but they were mostly text files or in the Microsoft LIT format. The Sony prefers the ePub format which is becoming the industry standard. It’s a big job to convert files so I thought I would start again. Nowadays each download includes a number of formats: ePub, pdf, mobi, txt, etc so I’ve got a backup if I have to choose another reader. At last count I had 607 books in my new library. It’s mad, I couldn’t hope to read all of those in my lifetime and I’m still downloading. In the first 3 days of July, I’ve already downloaded 19, including some authors I’ve never hear of: Dana Stabenow, for example, and Boris Starling. Who knows what they’ll be like if I ever get around to reading them.

One thing that struck me when I was thinking about the books I like is the number of series which are based around British policemen, and especially the number of Inspectors. There’s Inspector Frost, Rebus, Thorne, Lynley, Japp, Pascoe, Morse, Taggart, and Rutledge; not to mention Chief Inspectors Barnaby, Wexford and Dalziel. That’s just off the top of my head – the list goes on.

One book I have read recently which is not in that genre is The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. This was recommended to me by friends Jim and Di and, even though the cover would normally have had me hurrying in another direction, I enjoyed it enormously. It’s written as a series of letters between the various characters and in that way reminded me of 84 Charing Cross Road which I read years ago and was later made into a film and a stage play. It’s an easy read with a soft-hearted finish and I recommend it. Apparently, the author sent the book off to the publisher and then was too ill to complete some major rewrites. She asked her niece, Annie Barrows, to become involved so she is named as co-writer.

Another author I'm really enjoying is Jo Nesbo who is Norwegian and is being called the next Stieg Larsson. I suppose that's inevitable but his books are really gritty with a flawed but likeable lead character with the wonderful name of Harry Hole. I've only read one so far but there's another 5 or 6 to go.

Marilyn has just started lunch so that’s a good excuse to leave this episode for now. Perhaps I’ll come back to it this afternoon.

And I did. Last night was the Changeover Dinner for the Deloraine Rotary Club. It was quite a big night held in a Reception Centre owned by a couple of our members. Pat is a teacher and Geoff a retired journalist and their home in Deloraine is run as a B&B. Attached to the house they have a very large room which can seat up to 100 for dinner. Unfortunately, the Council won’t give them a licence to serve alcohol, so it’s not used as often as it should be. We had a very good meal with a choice of 4 main courses and we brought our own wine. It wasn’t a late night and we were home and in bed by 11.30.

Friday, July 1st (Part 3) …..

No, your eyes do not deceive you; here is a third episode on the first day of the new financial year. Is it a New Year’s Resolution? Not likely!

We now have the house the way we want it: comfortable and with many of our ‘treasures’ around us. The kitchen is nicely designed and we have brought in a new fridge and microwave. There is a dishwasher but it isn’t working and we’re now considering whether we will bother getting it fixed. Marilyn has bought some new utensils and I have a new set of knives, so there’s a real feeling of a fresh beginning about the place. We are sorely in need of a pantry; there is a space for it but Graeme and Patsy didn’t bother going to that expense. However, this is on the top of our list.

The lounge room is the heart of the house. It’s a big room with plenty of space for our 3-piece suite and a nice oval dining table. I’ve set up my desk on one wall and there’s still room to spare. Marilyn decided that we needed a bit more desk space so we checked the Officeworks catalogue and bought a simple 1400mm desk with a filing cabinet pedestal underneath. Of course, it came in a flat pack with pages of instructions. I’ve made quite a few similar pieces of furniture in the past so this one wasn’t too daunting and looks quite professional. I can’t imagine how anyone can make a profit out of selling two pieces of furniture for $99, packed carefully with bags of screws, dowels, casters, etc and even a little bottle of wood glue, and then shipped from Malaysia. How much do they pay their workers?

Yesterday, I brought all our collection of pottery up from the shed. Every piece has a story to tell and reminds us of a particular stage in our lives. There are pieces we brought from Chakola, and even a cheese dish made by Jim Dorrington many years ago. Jamie, at Chakola when he was young, made a cup with an over-size handle, which we keep on display. When we moved to Hobart, we met a potter called Helen Palmer who made us a dinner set, Unfortunately, most of it has been broken but there are still a few bits left, including a nice vase and a jug and sugar bowl. There are also some other nice functional pots bought during that period, including an ocarina shaped like an echidna.

In Townsville we bought a jug from a Dutch potter who was influenced by the Delft tradition so her jug has a blue glaze. There’s a spikey fish also from Townsville and several pieces by a potter called Len who worked at Paluma. He was a truck-driver who was introduced to pottery by his girl-friend and all his stuff was wood-fired. He visited the local farmers, offering to pull down their old fences if he could keep the wood, so he had a good supply of old, dry hardwood, excellent for firing.

From Townsville we moved to Mittagong and had access to the fabulous Sturt Gallery and among the pieces we bought there is a stunning rectangular bowl by Andy Barrett-Hegan. As well, we have a couple of sake jugs my father bought in Japan and a nice little Kaga vase from Kanazawa. Our friend, Kit, gave us a very interesting little pot made in Laguna, Philippines. These familiar things are a delight to have around.

It’s also a delight to have our favourite paintings on the walls. We bought some lithographs on a cruise once, very large and dramatic, and they look terrific in this house. A painting by Sue Wilmot who was my Art Teacher at Gib Gate hangs over our bed, and a print of Helen Wiltshire’s Çlowns and Clams’ in the kitchen reminds us of our time on the barrier reef. I have a poster of Streeton’s ‘From McMahon’s Point, fare one penny’ but we can’t find space for a couple of water colours by Edward Warner, who painted from the 1930’s to the 1950’s. Our friend Jim was given several paintings by his widow, and shared them among his friends. We were lucky enough to receive two.

We bought a new bed to furnish our bedroom and, with the wine tables we have had for years acting as bedside tables, it is very comfortable. Marilyn had a hall table for her bits and pieces but today we replaced it with a tea trolley made by an old friend, Bill Middleton, whom we used to visit at Waddamana. It’s a really good example of bush carpentry and we treasure it, even though it’s been re-glued a number of times.

There’s one other little room which Graeme and Patsy intended as a study but we have made it into a single-bed sleeping nook for the occasional visitor. All-in-all, the house meets our needs very well and we hope to have lots of dinner parties and other gatherings in years to come.