What a week it was! The sun is streaming through the parlour window and the thermometer outside says it's 18C. No sooner did I declare spring was here a couple of entries ago than I heard familiar chirping and saw 2 sparrows, damn it, outside on the deck wires, the first sparrows I've seen for months. No doubt the little buggers breed quicker than rabbits. Then a couple of blowies were in the house the same morning. They come down the chimney on the warmer days till we stop lighting the fire at night and close the chimney flue.
I resumed my morning walk after missing a day with the sore ankle, but I had a bad night with my back. Yesterday while Lib's car was serviced I sat in a nearby coffee shop doing my BAS, having printed out the GST report earlier and taking all the necessaries with me to finish it. Then to Emerald after the car was finished and to Theresa for my 1.30pm massage and manipulation appointment. She does a Chinese massage and she is the best I've known. Just a little slip of a thing she is too. After that I did a trip to Sassafrass to pick some daphne at a friend's place (light duties at Theresa's instruction). The back was very sensitive during the night but has come good now and I feel I am close to full recovery from the violent and nasty shock of the fall two days ago.
It shows me what a fine line we walk every day.
My mate Rick emailed me after reading the blog about the pink sky. "Red sky in the evening, shepherd's delight, Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning," is the saying he says, and apparently there's a solid scientific explanation for it which he can't remember.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Humpty Dumpty Had a Big Fall
Since my last entry Robbie's mid year report came and it was excellent. His teachers say he has a good understanding of all the concepts in the two maths and physics and chemistry. Even his English teacher was complimentary and he hates English.
Yesterday after dropping him off at Emerald I worked again on Steve's hedge. I needed 50 bunches for an order for pick up that afternoon. After the first few bunches I moved my ladder along the hedge. It's an orchardist's ladder, a tripod, a set of rungs between two legs and a leg at the front which moves in or out and the legs can be carefully positioned on uneven terrain to obtain reasonable stability. But you must be careful in setting up, which becomes instinctive. The ground at Steve's is level and does not present difficulty.
I went to the second top rung, at 7ft, from where I brace myself with my shins on the top rung. This leads to sore shins which callous and bleed often because the skin there is so thin and does not get a chance to heal properly, but that's another story. This time when I reached the top, the ladder moved suddenly. I fell. but somehow my right lower leg was stuck between the two top rungs. So as I went down I swung to vertical head first, my ankle being reefed out by my body weight and I landed miraculously on my upper back with a very powerful jolt.
The fall would have only taken one second but in that time I had visualised a wrecked knee or a broken neck as the brain tried to keep up with the event. Fortunately I could stand straight away but was aware of pain in my back and didn't feel I could walk for a while. I gradually recovered composure and looked at the ladder to see what had gone wrong. The third leg, which I had positioned inside the hedge, had fallen into a hole beneath the surface causing me to lose footing. I had never had this happen before. I've had the ladder tip sideways and even fall straight down flat when the legs have slipped on concrete where they couldn't get a hold, but I would not have anticipated the front single leg dropping a foot suddenly into a hole.
I gingerly finished the 50 bunches, more slowly than I would normally and aware of pain in my ankle and back. Then it was off to Cockatoo to pick thirty bunches of pitto at Craig and Leanne's. The ankle was very sore when I finished and I went home for lunch. Lib had the day off because she swapped shifts with someone as a favour and had worked last Saturday. It was a lovely day and she was doing a good job of pruning the hydrangeas and enjoying the sunshine. I had made another curry last Saturday when she was at work which we'd had for dinner last night, and we had the leftovers for lunch.
After sitting down for lunch and a cuppa, my ankle became so sore that walking caused excruciating pain. A phone message had come through that a customer wanted as many winter poker flowers as I could find that afternoon so I knew I was going to have a hard time of it. Meredith helped me pick the pokers and I was very pleased to be finished. On the way home I bought an ankle bandage from the chemist and some anti-inflammatory tablets. I didn't feel well at all. After tea Lib bandaged my ankle and I went straight to bed, where I lay awake for hours with aching in the ankle. After awhile I found that if I pointed my big toe down gently then lifted it up the other way as far I could the aching would stop for 3 or 4 seconds. These little breaks were blissfull. The pain eventually subsided and I fell asleep.
When I got out of bed at 5.30am I could barely walk on it it was so painful but I decided I had two choices, either go back to bed and stay off the ankle in which case it would probably seize up and take much rehab later, or keep moving and functioning and endure some pain but come good quicker, which I chose. Besides I have to get Robbie to Emerald to catch the bus and Lib's car to Bruno's in Ferntree Gully for a service where it is booked in at 9.30.
Yesterday after dropping him off at Emerald I worked again on Steve's hedge. I needed 50 bunches for an order for pick up that afternoon. After the first few bunches I moved my ladder along the hedge. It's an orchardist's ladder, a tripod, a set of rungs between two legs and a leg at the front which moves in or out and the legs can be carefully positioned on uneven terrain to obtain reasonable stability. But you must be careful in setting up, which becomes instinctive. The ground at Steve's is level and does not present difficulty.
I went to the second top rung, at 7ft, from where I brace myself with my shins on the top rung. This leads to sore shins which callous and bleed often because the skin there is so thin and does not get a chance to heal properly, but that's another story. This time when I reached the top, the ladder moved suddenly. I fell. but somehow my right lower leg was stuck between the two top rungs. So as I went down I swung to vertical head first, my ankle being reefed out by my body weight and I landed miraculously on my upper back with a very powerful jolt.
The fall would have only taken one second but in that time I had visualised a wrecked knee or a broken neck as the brain tried to keep up with the event. Fortunately I could stand straight away but was aware of pain in my back and didn't feel I could walk for a while. I gradually recovered composure and looked at the ladder to see what had gone wrong. The third leg, which I had positioned inside the hedge, had fallen into a hole beneath the surface causing me to lose footing. I had never had this happen before. I've had the ladder tip sideways and even fall straight down flat when the legs have slipped on concrete where they couldn't get a hold, but I would not have anticipated the front single leg dropping a foot suddenly into a hole.
I gingerly finished the 50 bunches, more slowly than I would normally and aware of pain in my ankle and back. Then it was off to Cockatoo to pick thirty bunches of pitto at Craig and Leanne's. The ankle was very sore when I finished and I went home for lunch. Lib had the day off because she swapped shifts with someone as a favour and had worked last Saturday. It was a lovely day and she was doing a good job of pruning the hydrangeas and enjoying the sunshine. I had made another curry last Saturday when she was at work which we'd had for dinner last night, and we had the leftovers for lunch.
After sitting down for lunch and a cuppa, my ankle became so sore that walking caused excruciating pain. A phone message had come through that a customer wanted as many winter poker flowers as I could find that afternoon so I knew I was going to have a hard time of it. Meredith helped me pick the pokers and I was very pleased to be finished. On the way home I bought an ankle bandage from the chemist and some anti-inflammatory tablets. I didn't feel well at all. After tea Lib bandaged my ankle and I went straight to bed, where I lay awake for hours with aching in the ankle. After awhile I found that if I pointed my big toe down gently then lifted it up the other way as far I could the aching would stop for 3 or 4 seconds. These little breaks were blissfull. The pain eventually subsided and I fell asleep.
When I got out of bed at 5.30am I could barely walk on it it was so painful but I decided I had two choices, either go back to bed and stay off the ankle in which case it would probably seize up and take much rehab later, or keep moving and functioning and endure some pain but come good quicker, which I chose. Besides I have to get Robbie to Emerald to catch the bus and Lib's car to Bruno's in Ferntree Gully for a service where it is booked in at 9.30.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Oh No! Where's Snow?
On Wednesday and Thursday I drive Robbie to Emerald to catch an 8.55am bus to Belgrave railway station. This enables him to have an extra hour's sleep because if I didn't he'd have to catch a 7.30 bus from Gembrook. It's all to do with his timetable and I do what I can to help because he has 4 hours travelling to get to school and back each day. Throw in a couple of 5.30 starts and study late into the night and he has set himself a gruelling schedule by choosing Box Hill SC as his school for this crucial year 12.
Usually after dropping him off I might do a small job in Emerald and then go back to Gembrook to pick up my routine which revolves around what I have to pick in various places. I take Snowie with me for the ride these mornings, and leave her home in the afternoon when I return to Emerald with my pickings.
Last Wednesday I bit off more than I could chew by trying to pick ahead for Friday's orders, the intent was to give me a bit of a break on Thursday to do some work for Pat and Mal. I know this is a bit long winded but I'm setting the scene for you. I was so busy picking heaps of cherry laurel at Steve's, then at Marjolain's, where I knew her next door neighbour had given permission to another bloke to pick the other side, and he was coming back soon to to do the top. So the competitive streak in me well and truly kicked in and I was going for the top hell for leather as far as I could reach from my side. Time got away on me and I realized after bunching it all at the farm that I didn't have time to get back to Gembrook to get my camellia at Keith's. It was nearly 3.00pm, I had not had lunch nor even stopped for a cup of tea since I left Gembrook in the morning, so was probably not thinking all that clearly, and I had to get to Cockatoo to pick green pitto and have it back to the farm by 5.00pm. And pick Gordy up at Belgrave at 5.30. Nobody should have to work like this, I said to myself.
I'll skip the camellia, I thought. No, I can get some good stuff just down Monbulk Rd. at Gail's where I hadn't picked for more than twelve months, but she had told me when I bumped into her in the street to go in and pick what I like any time. This I did and it was lovely rich dark green strong foliage just what 'Foxy' likes. I let 'Snowie' out for a walk while I picked and worked as quickly as I could, then loaded my camellia into the van and took off for Cockatoo, almost in a frenzy.
When I got to the end of Monbulk Rd. at the Emerald township and turned a little too fast I looked back to see if 'Snow' was OK. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd left her behind!
A sense of panic gripped me and I hurriedly turned around and tore back to Gail's. As I neared my eyes scoured the roadside for her then I spotted her running towards me right up the middle of the road with cars weaving around her. She had panicked of course at me tearing off and leaving her.
I was shaken, but hugely relieved to have found her before she was hit and killed. It gave me the fright of my life, and taught me a valuable lesson. SLOW DOWN YOU DICKHEAD. I nearly lost 'Snowie' and Lib and the boys would never have forgiven me.
We had a thunderstorm yesterday and it was lighter and warmer on my walk this morning. Spring is here, never mind we're still in July. Reading Jen's blog and the comments, it's been stinking hot in Nth. America, brutal is the word that keeps popping up. What do we have in store for us in the coming summer?
I went to Grace Delarues 90th birthday afternoon tea yesterday. Gracie's worth a blog entry one day when I have a bit of time.
Usually after dropping him off I might do a small job in Emerald and then go back to Gembrook to pick up my routine which revolves around what I have to pick in various places. I take Snowie with me for the ride these mornings, and leave her home in the afternoon when I return to Emerald with my pickings.
Last Wednesday I bit off more than I could chew by trying to pick ahead for Friday's orders, the intent was to give me a bit of a break on Thursday to do some work for Pat and Mal. I know this is a bit long winded but I'm setting the scene for you. I was so busy picking heaps of cherry laurel at Steve's, then at Marjolain's, where I knew her next door neighbour had given permission to another bloke to pick the other side, and he was coming back soon to to do the top. So the competitive streak in me well and truly kicked in and I was going for the top hell for leather as far as I could reach from my side. Time got away on me and I realized after bunching it all at the farm that I didn't have time to get back to Gembrook to get my camellia at Keith's. It was nearly 3.00pm, I had not had lunch nor even stopped for a cup of tea since I left Gembrook in the morning, so was probably not thinking all that clearly, and I had to get to Cockatoo to pick green pitto and have it back to the farm by 5.00pm. And pick Gordy up at Belgrave at 5.30. Nobody should have to work like this, I said to myself.
I'll skip the camellia, I thought. No, I can get some good stuff just down Monbulk Rd. at Gail's where I hadn't picked for more than twelve months, but she had told me when I bumped into her in the street to go in and pick what I like any time. This I did and it was lovely rich dark green strong foliage just what 'Foxy' likes. I let 'Snowie' out for a walk while I picked and worked as quickly as I could, then loaded my camellia into the van and took off for Cockatoo, almost in a frenzy.
When I got to the end of Monbulk Rd. at the Emerald township and turned a little too fast I looked back to see if 'Snow' was OK. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd left her behind!
A sense of panic gripped me and I hurriedly turned around and tore back to Gail's. As I neared my eyes scoured the roadside for her then I spotted her running towards me right up the middle of the road with cars weaving around her. She had panicked of course at me tearing off and leaving her.
I was shaken, but hugely relieved to have found her before she was hit and killed. It gave me the fright of my life, and taught me a valuable lesson. SLOW DOWN YOU DICKHEAD. I nearly lost 'Snowie' and Lib and the boys would never have forgiven me.
We had a thunderstorm yesterday and it was lighter and warmer on my walk this morning. Spring is here, never mind we're still in July. Reading Jen's blog and the comments, it's been stinking hot in Nth. America, brutal is the word that keeps popping up. What do we have in store for us in the coming summer?
I went to Grace Delarues 90th birthday afternoon tea yesterday. Gracie's worth a blog entry one day when I have a bit of time.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Pat and Mal
On my Friday morning walk I had a chat to Eileen J. I haven't seen Harry or the dentist's wife for ages. Maybe they are away. Eileen and her husband AJ owned the Gembrook hotel from the late 70's to the early 90's. I asked her about Noni Smith, as I knew they were friends. Noni died a few years ago. Nobody knew Noni had any children, so there was amazement when 7 sons turned up. No one knew either that Noni had been married to a wife bashing alcoholic in Melbourne and ran away, starting a new life at Gembrook and working for Doc Murphy in Emerald. Eileen didn't know. It was the solicitor who found the children she said.
I was so glad I was wearing my new glasses. The sunrise was magnificent, salmon pink clouds with lemon butter yellow whorled between. I could see so much better into the contrasting dark areas, seeing things I normally wouldn't, like smoke wisping slowly from chimney flues. A real treat. What is it they say about a pink sky meaning rain?
It rained last Saturday, 19 ml in total, and it was most welcome.I did a little bit of gardening between showers, and some wooding ( splitting wood to kindling and intermediate size for the week ahead), and listened to the footy.
Lib worked Sunday, I did an ox tail casserole and put it in the crockpot on the deck to cook all day on low, then after my walk started on a curry. I'd never done a curry before and I knew it was a bit different to a normal casserole, so the previous night while in the bath I rang Leo Buckley, who sowed the idea in my head for the curry the previous day when we were both buying the budget rump on market day special in the local supermarket. I followed his tips. While doing this my friend Rick arrived for a visit, crowing about his success so far, 5/5 to my 2/5, in our email footy tipping competition. It meant he'd caught me up in one swoop. He stayed for 2 or 3 hours. It was hard trying to remember Leo's instructions and concentrate on the curry with Rick yapping. We go back as friends to 1964 as twelve year olds at school. He's leaving in a few weeks for a holiday to Sweden where his wife has been working for three months and they are then going to the Greek Islands for a few weeks. What a life some people live! I have to say though, to Rick's credit, that he suggested I leave out the sultanas. He hates sultanas in curries and picks them out. When Lib got home I said I didn't put sultanas in and she said that was good because she doesn't like them in curry. I put the curry in the oven on low temp and Rick and I had a couple of small bets on Hobart race one, and Mornington race 2. We lost. ( I have an account with centrebet, mainly for the odd bet on the footy, you can bet as small as $1 on the computer, and watch the race on sattelite TV ) Rick left and I went to get a trailer load of horse manure for the garden from Len Ure who owns, trains and races trotting horses. He gathers all the manure from the paddocks into a big heap as this reduces worm infestation in the horses. The heap gets big and he's happy for me to make it smaller.
Everyone enjoyed the curry for tea the next night Monday. Monday to Wednesday were very busy picking days for me. As well as large amounts of cherry laurel and bay, finding daphne, pieris, japonica, hellaborus and early prunus have kept me running, which shows that spring is on us. There 18 ml more rain between Sunday night and Tuesday morning. Wednesday was bitterly cold, 4C after my walk and 7C when I got home at 5.30pm. I don't think the max. would have been much higher, and there was a vicious wind from the south east.
Thursday is my best day to to take a breather or catch up on things. Today I did a couple of hours gardening for Pat and Mal. Mal is a retired civil engineer (Scottish) with a passion for chrysanthemums and dahlias. He used to build skyscrapers in Singapore. He was head of Tarmac Int. far east section. His wife Pat is of Asian origin, very tall, well spoken and polite. Pat hasn't told me anything of her background, but another lady I have worked for who recommended me to Pat, said she was manager of the Hilton Hotel in Singapore or Hong Kong. Mal is doing a bit of part time work for his old company even though he's been retired for 5 years. They asked him to help out at a coal mine at Blackwater Qld. so he flies up every other week to Emerald Qld. then drives an hour and a half to Blackwater. Setting up the new plant is behind schedule and is costing the owners (BHP Billiton I think he said ) one million dollars every week it over runs. It will be a year behind by the time it is finished. Very little labour is employed. It's all computerised. One scoop of a big machine in seconds extracts more coal than a man would in a week. After crushing and grading by machines, the coal is loaded automatically by conveyors onto trains that take it to ships and then to China. Mal has a crook knee ( he was a paratrooper in the British army serving in Malaya and Thailand,) so they get me to help sometimes. Today I did 2.5 hours good solid work on a long handled spade digging over new garden beds.
Lyle is doing well, miraculously improving on last week, and his spirits are up. He's better at home and has picked up a bit as a result.
I was so glad I was wearing my new glasses. The sunrise was magnificent, salmon pink clouds with lemon butter yellow whorled between. I could see so much better into the contrasting dark areas, seeing things I normally wouldn't, like smoke wisping slowly from chimney flues. A real treat. What is it they say about a pink sky meaning rain?
It rained last Saturday, 19 ml in total, and it was most welcome.I did a little bit of gardening between showers, and some wooding ( splitting wood to kindling and intermediate size for the week ahead), and listened to the footy.
Lib worked Sunday, I did an ox tail casserole and put it in the crockpot on the deck to cook all day on low, then after my walk started on a curry. I'd never done a curry before and I knew it was a bit different to a normal casserole, so the previous night while in the bath I rang Leo Buckley, who sowed the idea in my head for the curry the previous day when we were both buying the budget rump on market day special in the local supermarket. I followed his tips. While doing this my friend Rick arrived for a visit, crowing about his success so far, 5/5 to my 2/5, in our email footy tipping competition. It meant he'd caught me up in one swoop. He stayed for 2 or 3 hours. It was hard trying to remember Leo's instructions and concentrate on the curry with Rick yapping. We go back as friends to 1964 as twelve year olds at school. He's leaving in a few weeks for a holiday to Sweden where his wife has been working for three months and they are then going to the Greek Islands for a few weeks. What a life some people live! I have to say though, to Rick's credit, that he suggested I leave out the sultanas. He hates sultanas in curries and picks them out. When Lib got home I said I didn't put sultanas in and she said that was good because she doesn't like them in curry. I put the curry in the oven on low temp and Rick and I had a couple of small bets on Hobart race one, and Mornington race 2. We lost. ( I have an account with centrebet, mainly for the odd bet on the footy, you can bet as small as $1 on the computer, and watch the race on sattelite TV ) Rick left and I went to get a trailer load of horse manure for the garden from Len Ure who owns, trains and races trotting horses. He gathers all the manure from the paddocks into a big heap as this reduces worm infestation in the horses. The heap gets big and he's happy for me to make it smaller.
Everyone enjoyed the curry for tea the next night Monday. Monday to Wednesday were very busy picking days for me. As well as large amounts of cherry laurel and bay, finding daphne, pieris, japonica, hellaborus and early prunus have kept me running, which shows that spring is on us. There 18 ml more rain between Sunday night and Tuesday morning. Wednesday was bitterly cold, 4C after my walk and 7C when I got home at 5.30pm. I don't think the max. would have been much higher, and there was a vicious wind from the south east.
Thursday is my best day to to take a breather or catch up on things. Today I did a couple of hours gardening for Pat and Mal. Mal is a retired civil engineer (Scottish) with a passion for chrysanthemums and dahlias. He used to build skyscrapers in Singapore. He was head of Tarmac Int. far east section. His wife Pat is of Asian origin, very tall, well spoken and polite. Pat hasn't told me anything of her background, but another lady I have worked for who recommended me to Pat, said she was manager of the Hilton Hotel in Singapore or Hong Kong. Mal is doing a bit of part time work for his old company even though he's been retired for 5 years. They asked him to help out at a coal mine at Blackwater Qld. so he flies up every other week to Emerald Qld. then drives an hour and a half to Blackwater. Setting up the new plant is behind schedule and is costing the owners (BHP Billiton I think he said ) one million dollars every week it over runs. It will be a year behind by the time it is finished. Very little labour is employed. It's all computerised. One scoop of a big machine in seconds extracts more coal than a man would in a week. After crushing and grading by machines, the coal is loaded automatically by conveyors onto trains that take it to ships and then to China. Mal has a crook knee ( he was a paratrooper in the British army serving in Malaya and Thailand,) so they get me to help sometimes. Today I did 2.5 hours good solid work on a long handled spade digging over new garden beds.
Lyle is doing well, miraculously improving on last week, and his spirits are up. He's better at home and has picked up a bit as a result.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Wind, Cold Snap
Monday 10 July
Ida's birthday! She turned 87. I haven't seen her since Boxing Day before last. She is in an aged care facility in Sale. She didn't know who I was. She has Alzheimer's. I first met her in 1995, in the local suppermarket when we started a conversation about footy. We became great friends, I called on her twice a week for years and we'd have coffee and a chat. She loved her garden and reading and sport, especially the Hawks, but also the tennis and swimming on TV. Me and the boys mowed her grass for years and I cut back her garden. Her daughter-in-law emails me now again and I'm good friends with her neice Glenda in Melbourne who keeps in touch. Her father George, Ida's brother, became a friend also. He tuns 90 this year and his family has asked me to write something for a book they are making for him for his birthday (people who have known George have been asked to write something about when they met him - a good idea!) Ida deteriorated quickly in the last stages, it was a difficult thing to see happen.
Happy birthday Ida.
The wind blew a gale all day and it was very cold.
Tues. 11 July
Gough Whitlam's 90th birthday! Who (of those old enough) could forget old Thunderface say on the steps of parliament house just after being 'sacked' as PM, "God well may save the Queen, because nothing will save the Governor General."
Happy birthday Gough. I didn't know it then but you were a great man. It was a date in Aust. history on which I think most people would remember where they were when they heard the news, it was so big at the time. I was in the Riverina NSW working an apiary on Paterson's Curse when I stopped to get a drink and turned on the truck radio. I jumped for joy.
I ask my friends to email me and tell me what they were doing when Gough was sacked.
My father Lyle came home from hospital this evening. They could not help him. He is not expected to live long. It is a difficult time for us, especially Elvie and Meredith who are nursing him.
Wednesday 12 July
The third very busy day in a row for me. Somehow Lyle's condition seems to have steeled my resolve and I found another gear. It was freezing cold and there were times my fingers felt like dropping off. As Lib went to work I asked her was there anything I could do to help her today. She said if I had time I could make a spaghetti sauce, which I did when I came in for lunch. I was flat out all day. Daphne is flowering and the customers are crying out for it. I'm picking a lot of laurel and camellia. While I was picking camellia at Keith's he told me a good joke but I don't have time to write it up. He is a funny man, he says the money I pay him for his camellia foliage is Viagra money.
Thursday 13 July
I've had a bit of time to regroup today, hence the blog entry. I was very happy to get an email from Punjab this morning, responding to my blog entry for him around the time of the winter solstice. It's very cold again, I just checked the thermometer, it's 10C. I'm about to have a bowl of Baxter's potato and leek soup for lunch ,yum, and some dark rye toast. I'll set the fire then go to Hueit's (he's away till mid August) to pick a few things and collect the eggs, then pick more laurel for 'Foxy' at Stiebolt's hedge on the Patch road then pick up Gordon at Belgrave at 5.30pm. It'll be nice to get home and watch the footy selections on satellite TV sitting by the fire with a few glasses of red.
Ida's birthday! She turned 87. I haven't seen her since Boxing Day before last. She is in an aged care facility in Sale. She didn't know who I was. She has Alzheimer's. I first met her in 1995, in the local suppermarket when we started a conversation about footy. We became great friends, I called on her twice a week for years and we'd have coffee and a chat. She loved her garden and reading and sport, especially the Hawks, but also the tennis and swimming on TV. Me and the boys mowed her grass for years and I cut back her garden. Her daughter-in-law emails me now again and I'm good friends with her neice Glenda in Melbourne who keeps in touch. Her father George, Ida's brother, became a friend also. He tuns 90 this year and his family has asked me to write something for a book they are making for him for his birthday (people who have known George have been asked to write something about when they met him - a good idea!) Ida deteriorated quickly in the last stages, it was a difficult thing to see happen.
Happy birthday Ida.
The wind blew a gale all day and it was very cold.
Tues. 11 July
Gough Whitlam's 90th birthday! Who (of those old enough) could forget old Thunderface say on the steps of parliament house just after being 'sacked' as PM, "God well may save the Queen, because nothing will save the Governor General."
Happy birthday Gough. I didn't know it then but you were a great man. It was a date in Aust. history on which I think most people would remember where they were when they heard the news, it was so big at the time. I was in the Riverina NSW working an apiary on Paterson's Curse when I stopped to get a drink and turned on the truck radio. I jumped for joy.
I ask my friends to email me and tell me what they were doing when Gough was sacked.
My father Lyle came home from hospital this evening. They could not help him. He is not expected to live long. It is a difficult time for us, especially Elvie and Meredith who are nursing him.
Wednesday 12 July
The third very busy day in a row for me. Somehow Lyle's condition seems to have steeled my resolve and I found another gear. It was freezing cold and there were times my fingers felt like dropping off. As Lib went to work I asked her was there anything I could do to help her today. She said if I had time I could make a spaghetti sauce, which I did when I came in for lunch. I was flat out all day. Daphne is flowering and the customers are crying out for it. I'm picking a lot of laurel and camellia. While I was picking camellia at Keith's he told me a good joke but I don't have time to write it up. He is a funny man, he says the money I pay him for his camellia foliage is Viagra money.
Thursday 13 July
I've had a bit of time to regroup today, hence the blog entry. I was very happy to get an email from Punjab this morning, responding to my blog entry for him around the time of the winter solstice. It's very cold again, I just checked the thermometer, it's 10C. I'm about to have a bowl of Baxter's potato and leek soup for lunch ,yum, and some dark rye toast. I'll set the fire then go to Hueit's (he's away till mid August) to pick a few things and collect the eggs, then pick more laurel for 'Foxy' at Stiebolt's hedge on the Patch road then pick up Gordon at Belgrave at 5.30pm. It'll be nice to get home and watch the footy selections on satellite TV sitting by the fire with a few glasses of red.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Two Ladies
As I worked in Emerald yesterday, I watched an old lady coming down the footpath towards me , slowly, and with a dog on a lead. My ladder was set up on the footpath and with pole cutters I was working above me cutting cherry laurel pieces from the hedge. They were falling onto the path. I descended the ladder and moved it and the cut foliage so as the old lady could pass without having to go around me, or worse, trip and fall.
As she reached me she thanked me and added that I needn't have stopped, she would have been happy to go around. She spoke with an Irish accent and I guessed she was over eighty years old, but she was well groomed and had an erect stance. Her white hair was neat and brushed and her whole face smiled, wide eyed. I liked her straight away.
I said, "No, the footpath is for people to walk on and it is up to me to make sure I don't create a hazard."
I added a gentle enquiry, "Are you of Irish origin?"
She replied that she was and told me that she came to Australia from Dublin in 1960. We had a short conversation. I learned that she and her husband had 5 children when they migrated and a sixth born in Australia. They lived at first in a migrant hostel in Altona. Her husband was a bricklayer and there was much building happening at the time and they would have been better off to stay in the hostel because it was cheap accomodation, but it was crowded and not the best place for their kids who were mixing with hordes of kids of many nationalities and getting up to mischief.
So after 3 months they moved to Cockatoo where they lived till 1983 when the bushfire burned their house, which was not insured. They also lost all their possessions. Her husband died in 1992 but three of her kids live close by. The others are spread around Australia but she sees them now and again. She has been back to Ireland twice since 1960 and said it is beautiful and is now a rich country. Everybody is at university she said.
She said her name was Breda (she spelled it for me) O'Gallaher, and asked me mine. She walks six km every day , which used to be 11km but she is slower and more careful now after having a fall not long ago. Walking and reading ensured she was never bored. She loved communicating with people and talked to as many as she could. Communication solved everything she said.
I asked was she Catholic and she said "Yes, I am. Are you?"
"No, I'm not, but some of my best friends are."
Breda then said, "It doesn't matter that your not Catholic. Even when we were in Ireland we had Protestant neighbours and Jewish. We all got along well, there was no problem. If someone needed help they were helped. I might have pointed to the Protestant church and said to the kids, " You don't go in there," but that was all."
I gave Breda a small pot of honey I had in my van (it was intended for Steve, whose hedge I was working) and thanked her for sharing a little of her story with me. She wanted to pay me for it and when I wouldn't accept the payment, saying it was a gift, she thanked me and said she hoped to bump into me again.
I felt good for the rest of the day. I had enjoyed meeting Breda.
The very next day I was again working the same hedge when Nadia came out of her gate and waved to me and slowly walked towards my van parked on the nature strip. Her little dog was in tow. I had dropped Robbie off at the bus in Emerald and needed a small amount of laurel to fill an order, and I had 'Snowy' in the van, standing on her box behind the driver's seat. I came down the ladder to say hello to Nadia who had spotted 'Snowy'. She said as she reached the van, "Bennjji", as she looked at 'Snowy' through the window.
I said, "No, that's 'Snowy'"
"I call them all 'Bennjji'", she said.
By this time her Bennjji and my Bennjji were touching noses and wagging tails at the open back of the van. Nadia smiled.
" How is your arm?" I asked. Some weeks ago while working in the same spot an ambulance had been outside Nadia's house and I saw her being wheeled out on a trolley and taken away. Then two weeks after that she came out with her arm in a sling and said that she had broken her upper arm in a fall and it was painfall and looked horrible. "Do you want to seee itt," she had said, her eyes half crazed, "Itt is bleeeeding."
"No, no," I quickly assured her, as I carried the box of old lettuces inside for her. Someone had left them at her gate for her ducks.
"The arm is a little better", she replied. "Much pain still. They are sending someone tomorrow to help me do exercise, to help it moove."
I've known Nadia for about fifteen years. I used to pick in her garden, an old garden esblished probably about 1930/40 and shared by dozens of Nadia's ducks. One day after watching me work thirty feet up a tree in pouring rain she told me she didn't want me coming anymore. If I fell out of the tree I would sue her, she said. I was happy not to come anyway, the more I got to know her the more she worried me and she was difficult to deal with, and, she was mistrusting or even paranoid. One of her ducks would die occassionally and she was convinced it was a neighbour sneaking in and killing them.
I did like her eccentricity. I remember describing her to my family as a seventy year old hippy. She wore colourful, loose fitting clothing that hung from her tall angular frame as did her tied back,long chestnut hair and extravagant necklaces. Her eyes held a wildness, gipsy-like would be a better description of her appearance than hippy.
She sometimes invited me in for a cup of herb tea and I accepted out of politeness, but I was never comfortable in her house. It was untidy and and crammed full of odd things and ornaments, like stuffed birds and medusa statues. Once she told me she grew up in Checkoslavakia and was 17 when the Germans came. They put her to work in a factory with other women and were not unkind to her. One soldier was very good to her. They told her how evil the Jews were. She believed the Jews were responsible for most of the trouble in the world, and was still fearful the Jews would come for her in the night. Then the Russians came. They were murdering pigs. My intuition suggested she had a German lover who was killed by the Russians. She also told me her daughter stole $10,000 from her and if she came near her she would 'keeel herr'. As she said this she waved around a ten inch kitchen knife menacingly, which left me in no doubt it was not an idle threat.
In the 1990's there were annual family picnic days held in Nobelius Park, I remember her wandering down with her 'Bennjji' after lunch, drawn by the music of the bushband. She won the the ladies nail driving competition easily, despite being decades older than her rivals. She could really handle a hammer.
Thinking of Breda yesterday and the honey, I reached into the van for the 500gm billy I again had for Steve, and offered it to Nadia, saying it will help her arm.
"I want to pay you for it," she said, "What is the price?"
Thinking quickly I said it was $2.
She looked at 'Snowy' and said, "Hee iss a terrible liar."
She went inside and came out with two $2 coins and put them in the van, then said, "I want to buy some more. Do you have more?"
I found a 1kg billy and she went inside again and came out with four $2 coins.
So Steve missed out again. I'll catch up with him next time.
As she reached me she thanked me and added that I needn't have stopped, she would have been happy to go around. She spoke with an Irish accent and I guessed she was over eighty years old, but she was well groomed and had an erect stance. Her white hair was neat and brushed and her whole face smiled, wide eyed. I liked her straight away.
I said, "No, the footpath is for people to walk on and it is up to me to make sure I don't create a hazard."
I added a gentle enquiry, "Are you of Irish origin?"
She replied that she was and told me that she came to Australia from Dublin in 1960. We had a short conversation. I learned that she and her husband had 5 children when they migrated and a sixth born in Australia. They lived at first in a migrant hostel in Altona. Her husband was a bricklayer and there was much building happening at the time and they would have been better off to stay in the hostel because it was cheap accomodation, but it was crowded and not the best place for their kids who were mixing with hordes of kids of many nationalities and getting up to mischief.
So after 3 months they moved to Cockatoo where they lived till 1983 when the bushfire burned their house, which was not insured. They also lost all their possessions. Her husband died in 1992 but three of her kids live close by. The others are spread around Australia but she sees them now and again. She has been back to Ireland twice since 1960 and said it is beautiful and is now a rich country. Everybody is at university she said.
She said her name was Breda (she spelled it for me) O'Gallaher, and asked me mine. She walks six km every day , which used to be 11km but she is slower and more careful now after having a fall not long ago. Walking and reading ensured she was never bored. She loved communicating with people and talked to as many as she could. Communication solved everything she said.
I asked was she Catholic and she said "Yes, I am. Are you?"
"No, I'm not, but some of my best friends are."
Breda then said, "It doesn't matter that your not Catholic. Even when we were in Ireland we had Protestant neighbours and Jewish. We all got along well, there was no problem. If someone needed help they were helped. I might have pointed to the Protestant church and said to the kids, " You don't go in there," but that was all."
I gave Breda a small pot of honey I had in my van (it was intended for Steve, whose hedge I was working) and thanked her for sharing a little of her story with me. She wanted to pay me for it and when I wouldn't accept the payment, saying it was a gift, she thanked me and said she hoped to bump into me again.
I felt good for the rest of the day. I had enjoyed meeting Breda.
The very next day I was again working the same hedge when Nadia came out of her gate and waved to me and slowly walked towards my van parked on the nature strip. Her little dog was in tow. I had dropped Robbie off at the bus in Emerald and needed a small amount of laurel to fill an order, and I had 'Snowy' in the van, standing on her box behind the driver's seat. I came down the ladder to say hello to Nadia who had spotted 'Snowy'. She said as she reached the van, "Bennjji", as she looked at 'Snowy' through the window.
I said, "No, that's 'Snowy'"
"I call them all 'Bennjji'", she said.
By this time her Bennjji and my Bennjji were touching noses and wagging tails at the open back of the van. Nadia smiled.
" How is your arm?" I asked. Some weeks ago while working in the same spot an ambulance had been outside Nadia's house and I saw her being wheeled out on a trolley and taken away. Then two weeks after that she came out with her arm in a sling and said that she had broken her upper arm in a fall and it was painfall and looked horrible. "Do you want to seee itt," she had said, her eyes half crazed, "Itt is bleeeeding."
"No, no," I quickly assured her, as I carried the box of old lettuces inside for her. Someone had left them at her gate for her ducks.
"The arm is a little better", she replied. "Much pain still. They are sending someone tomorrow to help me do exercise, to help it moove."
I've known Nadia for about fifteen years. I used to pick in her garden, an old garden esblished probably about 1930/40 and shared by dozens of Nadia's ducks. One day after watching me work thirty feet up a tree in pouring rain she told me she didn't want me coming anymore. If I fell out of the tree I would sue her, she said. I was happy not to come anyway, the more I got to know her the more she worried me and she was difficult to deal with, and, she was mistrusting or even paranoid. One of her ducks would die occassionally and she was convinced it was a neighbour sneaking in and killing them.
I did like her eccentricity. I remember describing her to my family as a seventy year old hippy. She wore colourful, loose fitting clothing that hung from her tall angular frame as did her tied back,long chestnut hair and extravagant necklaces. Her eyes held a wildness, gipsy-like would be a better description of her appearance than hippy.
She sometimes invited me in for a cup of herb tea and I accepted out of politeness, but I was never comfortable in her house. It was untidy and and crammed full of odd things and ornaments, like stuffed birds and medusa statues. Once she told me she grew up in Checkoslavakia and was 17 when the Germans came. They put her to work in a factory with other women and were not unkind to her. One soldier was very good to her. They told her how evil the Jews were. She believed the Jews were responsible for most of the trouble in the world, and was still fearful the Jews would come for her in the night. Then the Russians came. They were murdering pigs. My intuition suggested she had a German lover who was killed by the Russians. She also told me her daughter stole $10,000 from her and if she came near her she would 'keeel herr'. As she said this she waved around a ten inch kitchen knife menacingly, which left me in no doubt it was not an idle threat.
In the 1990's there were annual family picnic days held in Nobelius Park, I remember her wandering down with her 'Bennjji' after lunch, drawn by the music of the bushband. She won the the ladies nail driving competition easily, despite being decades older than her rivals. She could really handle a hammer.
Thinking of Breda yesterday and the honey, I reached into the van for the 500gm billy I again had for Steve, and offered it to Nadia, saying it will help her arm.
"I want to pay you for it," she said, "What is the price?"
Thinking quickly I said it was $2.
She looked at 'Snowy' and said, "Hee iss a terrible liar."
She went inside and came out with two $2 coins and put them in the van, then said, "I want to buy some more. Do you have more?"
I found a 1kg billy and she went inside again and came out with four $2 coins.
So Steve missed out again. I'll catch up with him next time.
Good News, Bad News
Lleyton got beaten in the Wimbledon quarter finals overnight. HOORAY!
Sadly, for me, much of the news of the week has been politics. A lot of whoohah over the Government's IR laws. The Labour Party won a newspoll, they would have won an election if one was held last week, on the the strength of their stance against the Howard gov'ts IR laws.
Well, that leaves me totally stuffed. I'm dismayed, I loathe the Howard gov't and probably would have voted labour next time, but it looks like the next election will be fought on this issue, and the new IR laws are the only good thing the Gov't has done. I have always believed that an employer and employee should be able to make whatever arrangements they like without interference. Looks like I will remain in a political vaccuum. I agree with most of what Bob Brown says but he isn't going to be elected (PM), so he can say anything, which the others can't. But it looks like I'm a 'Green' again.
Sadly, for me, much of the news of the week has been politics. A lot of whoohah over the Government's IR laws. The Labour Party won a newspoll, they would have won an election if one was held last week, on the the strength of their stance against the Howard gov'ts IR laws.
Well, that leaves me totally stuffed. I'm dismayed, I loathe the Howard gov't and probably would have voted labour next time, but it looks like the next election will be fought on this issue, and the new IR laws are the only good thing the Gov't has done. I have always believed that an employer and employee should be able to make whatever arrangements they like without interference. Looks like I will remain in a political vaccuum. I agree with most of what Bob Brown says but he isn't going to be elected (PM), so he can say anything, which the others can't. But it looks like I'm a 'Green' again.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Beware of Dogs
Some weeks ago I bumped into a friend, Anita, who asked me to bring some empty bags to her place so she could rake up her autumn leaves and bag them for me. She does this every year and we are happy to have them as mulch. It slipped my mind for a while but one day I remembered and took round a big stack of bags. Oddly the big steel gates were closed which I had never encountered previously so I parked outside and carried the bags to where I leave them at the front door about 50 metres along the concrete drive.
About half way back to the gate I heard this roaring, whooshing, pounding sound behind me and turned my head back to see what the hell it was. It was the biggest rottwieler I have ever seen, it looked like a bull, in full charge, at me, thundering up the driveway from the other side of the house. I took a quick look at the gate but didn't think I'd make it if I took flight and would be brought down by this monster and probably have my throat ripped out.
So I turned to face the beast, not out of bravery, but thinking it was my best chance of survival. I reckon I was giving away about 20 kilos to it. Seeing me turn the dog slowed as if to reassess me and thankfully at that moment Anita's husband Garry, who'd heard the barking and snarling, was shouting to call it off. As it turned to him I moved towards the gate steadily and got out very shaky as it ran back. He tied the dog up as I yelled, "Jesus Gary, where did you get that bloody thing."
He came up and explained it was his daughter's dog and she was living with them while building a house. He was amazed I got all the way to the house and nearly back before it saw me. He said it was extremely savage at anything coming in the gate and it's name was 'Dozer', and not because it liked sleeping. I now realized that Anita had told me about Dozer and said I should leave the bags outside the gate, but I had forgotten.
Last Monday morning my phone rang and it was Mal B ringing to tell me there were several things in his garden that needed cutting back, things that I had cut before, about two years apart, and I was most welcome to come and pick there. I said I would call in that afternoon to have a look. He said they were going out but I could go there whenever I wanted as I knew my way around, but they had installed an automatic gate that was a bit tricky. There was a post in front, attached to the gate, that was a trigger to make the gate open, and if I gave it whack with my hand the gate would open and stay open long enough for me to get my van through. He said it was designed to work with a nudge from a car, but don't do that as it rocketed open too quickly. Sounded simple.
There were two dogs on the other side of the gate when I got there, barking and snarling, but the dogs were nothing like Dozer's formidable size, and were there two years earlier and didn't attack me so I thought once I'm in in they would be OK. So I whacked the post and the gate started to open slowly but this infuriated the dogs, who went berserk and started leaping at the other side of the gate. This had the effect on the gate of making it come back to closed, as there was another trigger post on the inside to make it go the other way.
I tried several times but the dogs could see they were winning and became more aggressive, so I gave it away, thinking I'll have to make other arrangements when Mal or Michelle are home.
But I needed some bay leaves as I had arranged my day around picking some at Mal's, so I thought for a minute and remembered Nigel's bay trees. When I got to Nigel's there was a sign on the gate, which had not been there before in the ten years I've been picking in his garden. You guessed it, "BEWARE OF THE DOG".
I looked around and couldn't see a dog, and I rattled the gate to make a dog hear if one was around. I was a bit toey after the fright I had with 'Dozer', but Nigel was the last person to have a savage dog I thought, so in I went up to the front door and knocked. Nigel, whom I hadn't seen for six months, opened the door to my relief and pointed to the trees with one hand while nodding and holding the phone in the other hand and talking.
Later he came out while I was picking and explained that he had been talking to his accountant when I came to the door. I asked him about the sign on the gate and he explained that his friend 'Pink' put that there while she was house minding for him recently. Nigel, in the years I have been picking in his garden, usually three or four times each winter, has been a retired rock star, a member of the successful band 'Split Enz', who loves a quiet life away from the spotlight and working in his garden. The band have just done a two week reunion tour of Australian capital cities which took 6 months to organize and was a huge success. The day Pink moved in she put the sign on the gate and one of her dogs died that night. Out of the blue, just died on the couch. Then the other one was put down the day Nigel came back, after suddenly becoming paralysed in the hind quarters a few days after the other one died, and after much veterinary expense failed to bring recovery. Pink was distraught and forgot to take the sign down, and Nigel said he had been in a daze since the end of the tour.
One thing for sure. I will take no liberties with dogs. 'Dozer' made sure of that.
About half way back to the gate I heard this roaring, whooshing, pounding sound behind me and turned my head back to see what the hell it was. It was the biggest rottwieler I have ever seen, it looked like a bull, in full charge, at me, thundering up the driveway from the other side of the house. I took a quick look at the gate but didn't think I'd make it if I took flight and would be brought down by this monster and probably have my throat ripped out.
So I turned to face the beast, not out of bravery, but thinking it was my best chance of survival. I reckon I was giving away about 20 kilos to it. Seeing me turn the dog slowed as if to reassess me and thankfully at that moment Anita's husband Garry, who'd heard the barking and snarling, was shouting to call it off. As it turned to him I moved towards the gate steadily and got out very shaky as it ran back. He tied the dog up as I yelled, "Jesus Gary, where did you get that bloody thing."
He came up and explained it was his daughter's dog and she was living with them while building a house. He was amazed I got all the way to the house and nearly back before it saw me. He said it was extremely savage at anything coming in the gate and it's name was 'Dozer', and not because it liked sleeping. I now realized that Anita had told me about Dozer and said I should leave the bags outside the gate, but I had forgotten.
Last Monday morning my phone rang and it was Mal B ringing to tell me there were several things in his garden that needed cutting back, things that I had cut before, about two years apart, and I was most welcome to come and pick there. I said I would call in that afternoon to have a look. He said they were going out but I could go there whenever I wanted as I knew my way around, but they had installed an automatic gate that was a bit tricky. There was a post in front, attached to the gate, that was a trigger to make the gate open, and if I gave it whack with my hand the gate would open and stay open long enough for me to get my van through. He said it was designed to work with a nudge from a car, but don't do that as it rocketed open too quickly. Sounded simple.
There were two dogs on the other side of the gate when I got there, barking and snarling, but the dogs were nothing like Dozer's formidable size, and were there two years earlier and didn't attack me so I thought once I'm in in they would be OK. So I whacked the post and the gate started to open slowly but this infuriated the dogs, who went berserk and started leaping at the other side of the gate. This had the effect on the gate of making it come back to closed, as there was another trigger post on the inside to make it go the other way.
I tried several times but the dogs could see they were winning and became more aggressive, so I gave it away, thinking I'll have to make other arrangements when Mal or Michelle are home.
But I needed some bay leaves as I had arranged my day around picking some at Mal's, so I thought for a minute and remembered Nigel's bay trees. When I got to Nigel's there was a sign on the gate, which had not been there before in the ten years I've been picking in his garden. You guessed it, "BEWARE OF THE DOG".
I looked around and couldn't see a dog, and I rattled the gate to make a dog hear if one was around. I was a bit toey after the fright I had with 'Dozer', but Nigel was the last person to have a savage dog I thought, so in I went up to the front door and knocked. Nigel, whom I hadn't seen for six months, opened the door to my relief and pointed to the trees with one hand while nodding and holding the phone in the other hand and talking.
Later he came out while I was picking and explained that he had been talking to his accountant when I came to the door. I asked him about the sign on the gate and he explained that his friend 'Pink' put that there while she was house minding for him recently. Nigel, in the years I have been picking in his garden, usually three or four times each winter, has been a retired rock star, a member of the successful band 'Split Enz', who loves a quiet life away from the spotlight and working in his garden. The band have just done a two week reunion tour of Australian capital cities which took 6 months to organize and was a huge success. The day Pink moved in she put the sign on the gate and one of her dogs died that night. Out of the blue, just died on the couch. Then the other one was put down the day Nigel came back, after suddenly becoming paralysed in the hind quarters a few days after the other one died, and after much veterinary expense failed to bring recovery. Pink was distraught and forgot to take the sign down, and Nigel said he had been in a daze since the end of the tour.
One thing for sure. I will take no liberties with dogs. 'Dozer' made sure of that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)