Winter Be Gone

 It's 5 minutes to midnight right now. By the time I finish this post it will be Aug 31, the last day of winter. What a winter it has been, a real wood fires a'blazin' one. Even today I was out scrounging some dry firewood courtesy of a couple of days of warmer temps and wind and no rain. Even some blowies came into the house. Rain came back this evening and cold and showers forecast tomorrow.

I have been picking variegated pittosporum (tenufolium garnetti) every week since starting on it mid April. I have exhausted supply at home, at the farm, and my other Gembrook sources, I have arranged with my last site to do my last pick tomorrow. These people have been ever so kind to let me pick their hedge once a week for about the last two months. I found it by sheer good fortune. I was picking my trees one day a few months ago when a chap walked past and stopped for a yarn. We'd talked before, he walks regularly from where he lives to Gembrook to catch the bus to where he works part time. Explaining to him that demand for this particular pitto is high had him tell me there's a similar type in a hedge between his house and his neighbour and I was welcome to come and get some if it was useful. Was it ever! He gave me his phone number, I followed up when mine at home ran out, he introduced me to his neighbour and it has helped us enormously to survive the winter struggle to make ends meet. The demand has not stopped, nor for the mixed bunches of foliage and flowers we do, we've been busy right through.

I'm glad it's the last tomorrow. I'll tell the wholesaler that's it for now, the pitto has to regrow through spring and summer. Talking of spring, it's well under way. The magpies are warbling strongly at dawn, the kookas are laughing their heads off, and the male blackbirds have been fighting and tumbling in the hellabores, oblivious to me picking flowers. If I was a cat it would be easy catch. There's a lot of new growth on trees, shrubs and field/wild flowers and the glorious aromas have begun with much to come in coming weeks.

Have had some more luck on the footy punt, $121 collect on a $2, 8 game multi today (Would have been $430 on a $5 one if North Melbourne had won). I invested a total of $22 on 4 $5 multis and one $2. Last week I collected $105 for $20 outlay. But the funny story I want to tell, which is probably what prompts me to sit here posting after midnight, is a good win I had on the neds last week. As I have said I'm a small time punter, $1 each way usually, and a few 50 cent trifectas. I put $1 on a horse that was 50/1, with a power boost I got $71. When I checked my balance it had gone down more than I thought so checked my bets and saw that I must have clicked 1 in the value box, gone to check odds on other account sites, gone back and must have clicked 1 again so I had accidentally bet $11 instead of $1. You guessed it, it won and I collected $781 for my $11. You don't reckon I laughed out loud.

My sore feet have settled down, I'm in good health, feeling fit and well. Will need to be with the move from our house to an as yet unknown address in a couple of months. I'm hopeful that now the pitto has finished I can put my mind to finding a place to rent and starting packing and cleaning up. I'm glad that I've been AF since 5 January. I'm enjoying being full time sober and clearheaded, I think it good I was off the grog during this Covid ordeal, I may have taken solace in my sherry, wine, and whatever weekend habit to numb out the media nuttery and cold weather. My target now is 12 months AF. Should not be a problem. It's been great to realize I can enjoy life without the need of the alcohol buzz.  

 

More Police

On Monday night, or I should say Tuesday morning as it was 5am, Pip started barking and woke me up. She sleeps in what I call my office, and she normally wakes me up by coming to our bedroom and making a little squeaky whine about 2am to go outside for a wee. I don't mind this really as I'm ready for a wee myself. She'll often wake me again about 4-5am, this time I feed her breakfast and again go back to bed.

That night she didn't disturb me until the barking, and I got up and went to the front door where she was yapping. I flicked the outside light on as I reached the door and looked through the glass beside it to see two police officers again, about ten feet away from the door. They were peering at me with eyes above their face masks, in flouro vests and uniform and attachments. Instantly I recognized they were police and Pip ran up to them inquisitively to sniff their legs when I opened the door.

"How are you?" was my greeting. 

"Good, sorry to disturb you. We're doing a welfare check on Jean Thompson. Could we talk to her?"

"What time is it?" I said, rubbing my sticky eyes. I had no idea, Pip hadn't woken me before the barking so I had no idea, not checking as I stumbled out to find out what she was barking at. I had thought it was probably a dog or dogs she had heard outside as sometimes she does early morning, but usually after daylight when a couple of mongrels come in and shit on our lawn.

"It's 5 o'clock," they replied. "We had a report that Jean Thompson at this address was suicidal."

"A couple of your blokes were here last Friday night at 11.45 asking the same thing. I told them there was no Jean Thompson here. We're Williams, Carey Libby and Gordon."

The male said, "Yes we saw that," as he pointed to the cars, they must have run the plates on the computer.  

"Who is reporting that Jean Thompson is here and suicidal?"

"Someone from interstate, online." Do you have any weird neighbours?"

"Nothing to be alarmed about, there's quite a variety, I don't know them all in the street."

"Oh well, sorry to disturb you. Maybe you should put a sign up 'Jean Thompson does not live here'." It was the female that said this, she laughed, it was meant in humour, and I took it that way.

"Take it easy," I said as they walked back their car."You must be busy with all that's going on on."

"Thanks we are very busy, you go back and get some sleep."

That I did.

It has been a busy week thus far. I'm still picking lots of variegated pitto but my supply is nearly exhausted. It has kept me going through winter, that and the mixed bunches have been in high demand. Tonight I watched Gold Coast vs Essendon, I had a live $3, 8 game multi on the result, needing a GC win for $100 collect. It was a draw. Luckily the rules say a draw on multis gives a win with reduced payout so I still collected $50. I'm on a roll, $80 last week, $50 this week, and $700 a few weeks ago on Gord's tip 9. And $350 on a 50 cent trifecta the weekend after, and a $70 tattslotto prize last week. 

  

Police Visit

 It was a pleasant Friday night, yesterday. I sat by the fire and watched the GWS/Essendon game in the knowledge that I had a live $3 seven game bet for round ten on both teams. I stood to win $80 for a GWS win or $169 for an Essendon win. Naturally I was barracking for Essendon, a rare thing for me, but the $89 differential had me rooting for the Bombers. I was peed off when GWS snatched victory in the dying moments after trailing all match. But so it goes.

The game finished I went to the computer to check my balance after the bookie settled. As happens I lingered checking Facebook then deviated to google searching for a piece of music I heard a while back but couldn't quite remember the title. This is a bit of a trap, time slips by.

At about 11.30 pm, I heard a bit of a clunk noise outside. I was rugged up, track suit over my pyjamas, woollen jacket over that, scarf and beanie as it has been very cold and we don't have central heating. At night it's sit by the fire, or rug up or go to bed. The noise seemed close to to the room where I was sitting at the computer. It being a windy night there was noise outside. I'm aware that thieves choose windy nights thinking they won't be heard as they would on a still night. The noise was a little metallic and my immediate thought was, that's not right, so within seconds I was walking to the front door to investigate with the thought that a thief/thieves was/were trying to steal my trailer which was on the back lawn just outside my office.

I was almost at the door when there was knocking on it. I thought straight away, well it's not a thief, it must be someone I know to be at the door at that hour. I turned the porch light on and opened the door to see two police officers standing there, a pair of headlights from their car in the drive shining behind them.

"What can I do for you?" was my words as I stepped out.

"We're calling to see if Jean is OK," one of them said. They were strapping young blokes, wearing face masks, and flouro jackets and all the police attachments.

"There's no Jean here. There's me, Carey, wife Lib, and son Gordon. Why Jean?"

"This is 8 Agnes St, isn't it? It's 10 next door so this must be 8."

"This is 4-8, but we call it 8. (We have no number at the top of our drive)

"We received a call that Jean may be in need of assistance, at 8 Agnes St. How long have you lived here? Do you know a Jean close by?"

"Forty years, Can't think of a Jean around here. Is she sick? Or is this a Covid thing?" 

"No. We had information that Jean Thompson was at 8 Agnes St and in need of assistance. What were you doing when we arrived?"

"No, she's not here, never heard of her, I was listening to music on the computer. I heard a noise and thought someone might be knocking off my trailer so I was on my way out to check when you knocked. It must have been your car door I heard."

They seemed unconvinced but were at a dead end. "Well we better check our information. Thank you."

They turned to walk to their car. "Have a good night," I said, "Take care, the weather is foul."

"You too." One then turned back and said, "What was your name?"

"Carey Williams"

It's most unusual to have police knocking on my door near midnight. Thinking about it, I'm a little annoyed. I could have jumped to all sorts of wrong conclusions thinking a loved one had been injured or killed, which I didn't I might add, that didn't enter my head. They didn't identify themselves or tell me which station they were from. Who is Jean Thompson? Young or old? Who gave them the information? Was there a suggestion of violence? Did the informant give them my address by accident or intention? Were they telling me the truth, or making it all up, casing my place, remote as it would be, that they were crooked cops? It has been known.

I give them the benefit of probability and accept they were just doing their job and trying to look after someone who was vulnerable.