Kitchen Duty

 I washed dishes this morning, as I do every morning. And evening. I quite enjoy it. I find simple, mundane tasks calming. 

 

But it was a bit different today. I looked closely at items as I dried them and placed them squeaky clean in orderly sequence on the bench, ready to put away when I'm finishing the exercise. There were spoons from Indonesia and China and a knife from Sheffield England. There plates from China and USA. I picked up a little bottle of ghee on the bench. Packed in Australia but "Product of India." There was fruit on the bench, Kiwi from NZ, and I recalled seeing fresh food in the supermarket from USA the day previous.

 

It struck me what an amazing life we live. There's stuff from all over the world in my house, right at mt fingertips, all combining to give me a pleasant affluent lifestyle compared to so many people in the world who grub out existence the hard way. Historically, before electricity and the internal combustion engine inventions, it was so for most people. I think this way also driving around in traffic with just about every body driving around in their mechanized ton and half of steel, plastic, aluminum, vinyl, rubber personal transport - without an iota of concern really for where it or the fuel comes from.

 

Our car is a Skoda built in Czechoslovakia.  I can't even spell it  without auto correct!

 

I find it all.....bloody weird.  

 

 

It Cometh, To All

On our recent trip back to Victoria (August) we visited numerous family and friends, particularly in the Emerald /Cockatoo / Gembrook area where we lived for forty years until March 2021. There were many more people I'd have liked to visit but it was impossible, given our hectic schedule, to see all. 

 

My friend Vilma lives close to where we did in Gembrook and I called there without notice after we visited our old house. Lib wasn't with me at this stage, she went back with Rob to Emerald where we were staying after we checked out Agnes St. We were moved to see our our old garden, most trees still thriving but generally the surrounds were unkempt compared to how it was when we left. Vilma is 90 years old and a dear friend who always was warm and welcoming to me over a couple of decades. I picked in her garden and helped her with various gardening work extending to cleaning her spouting when her partner Josef was not well enough to climb up ladders. Josef is also a friend of mine, he was a neighbour of Vilma's and after his wife died he and Vilma hit it off and Joseph moved in and rented his house out. Josef is several years, maybe 10-15 younger than Vilma but who cares about that if it works.

 

When I called Josef was not home. He was at medical appointment and is waiting for a new hip operation. I was sorry to have missed him but Vilma was so obviously happily surprised to see me that any flatness I felt seeing our old abode disappeared. Despite her 90 years Vilma is as sharp as a tack with the same positive outlook that always lifted me no matter the weather or what foul circumstances may have been my lot at the time. Some people have that effect on you. During our discussion I told Vilma that I had befriended her daughter Julienne on Facebook after she popped up on my feed one day and I recognized the surname as the same as Vilma's. Julienne lived in Perth. On her FB I saw after a year or so she moved to Wangaratta, so I had a couple of messages with her over that, as I had lived and worked there for 5 years 1976-1981.

 

Then Julienne stopped posting. Months went by and I wondered why she wasn't posting. I PM'd her saying I hoped she was alright. No response. I did again a couple of months later with again no response. I told Vilma while we were catching up on things that I was friends with her daughter on FB but she'd stopped posting. Vilma's reply gave me a start.

 

"Oh. July died." Totally surprised, I asked what did she die from.

 

"She just died, in her house." I asked again what killed her.

 

"They don't know. She just died. It was her time to die. Her heart stopped. They found her on the floor." 

 

Vilma seemed quite composed about it although obviously sad. She said a policeman came to her door and sat in that chair there (pointing to it, next to hers) and told her. She said she asked the policeman could she ring one of her other daughters and tell her. He sat listening while Vilma told her July was dead and the daughter said, "I knew she was dead. I dreamed she was lying dead on the floor with blood coming from her head." The phone was on speaker so the policeman heard the conversation. Before leaving he wanted the other daughter's details, Vilma guessed because he found it a little strange. Nothing further came of it and it would seem likely it's possible people can dream things like that. That daughter did not live close to Julienne and there was no other way she could have known.

 

At least my mystery on why Julienne had gone quiet was answered. Another incident relating to Facebook comes to mind from earlier this year. A notification from a friend appeared in my feed.

 

"If you read this I'm dead." 

 

There was more by way of explanation but I can't recall it without hunting back. Ann Bolch had suffered from breast cancer and undergone chemo etc but she succumbed. She wrote her own last post on paper and asked her husband Tim to post it after she left us. That one shocked me, I had seen mention of her cancer earlier but only in a positive way approaching treatment.

 

When I look at my FB friends there are quite a number who are no longer with us, but I don't remove them as somehow them being there keeps them in my life and reminds me that it comes to us all sooner or later. No exceptions.   

 

 

 

Gaslighting

 The modern definition of gaslighting is a psychological manipulation technique in which a person tries to convince someone that their reality is untrue. It is a tactic often used by narcissists to gain control of their intended target.

I found that on Google, after looking up the word in my desk dictionary, The Australian Pocket Oxford Dictionary 1992 edition, which has no listing for the word at all. I concluded the Google definition is a recent interpretation of the word.

I looked it up because it's a word that's been frequently used over a few years now in interviews and discussion, often of a political nature, usually I think in the context of someone being harmed or betrayed in some way, but I never really knew how that was. I haven't heard it for a while, but now that I've learned the modern meaning of it, I suppose it'll mean the gaslighter is possibly a narcissist trying to manipulate the gaslit person's beliefs as a means to dominate them.

I confess that's still a bit difficult for me. I prefer by far my previous accepted version of the word, which coincides with the old dictionary I have, Websters Modern 20th century 1947 edition. It's a huge book that came from my grandmother Nanna Wilson originally to the farm when she came to live there in 1973, and somehow now sits in our "library". The pages are yellowed and the writing so small I could hardly read it.

It states Gaslighting - "The light produced by the combustion of coal gas."

June Update

 I noticed that my last post was 23 May. My how time flies. I'm happy to report that my back and hip issues have been resolved. My remedial massage went well (Natalia-excellent) but hip pain persisted so I brought my chiropractor maintenance appointment forward. Louis listened closely while I explained that lying in bed was the worst, there was aching quite severe in the hip and down the leg. Also getting in and out of bed or a car. He was immediate in answer and said I had a hip bursa (he may have used a more fancy name too). He was confident that was exactly what it was and exactly how to rectify it. He did the usual back manipulations and said he'd send me a video on how to fix it with an exercise roller that I could buy at KMart or BigW. The video came while he worked on his computer, my phone pinged with an SMS while I was in his room. The whole thing took about 15-20 minutes.

 

I bought a roller at KMart (I could only get a hard one whereas the video said use a soft roller as it's painful). I went home and did the exercises. Yes painful, but it worked. I bought a medium roller next day at BigW and repeated the exercises for a couple of days. Just as Louis said I would, I came good, not completely out of all discomfort but well enough to not do the painful exercises with the disruption to daily routine.

 

I have been weeding down the river and attending planting working bees there and at the Bluff. Very satisfying. While doing some of this my left hand became very painful, especially in the thumb base and wrist. A friend in the FoHRE said he uses a product he buys at Woolworths, Zea Relief - Kunzea Pain Relief Cream. I bought a tube (not cheap $35) and applied it night and morning with excellent result. I've been using it for a week and the hand is now better than the right one. My problem would I think be normal arthritis common to people my age. As they say, "Getting old is not for sissies." I'm always a bit worried when I have these pain issues that the rheumatoid arthritis is back but so far so good, that monster is well and truly behind me I hope.

 

Since I last posted the drought has broken in this area, with good rain I think totaling more than 150 ml for the last part of May and June to date. Wonderful for all the trees, shrubs and grasses we've planted, many hundreds on the river and the big community planting day on the Bluff saw 2500 planted.

 

I read that book I mentioned last month 'What Alice Forgot'. She lost her ten year memory and knew nothing of what changes had occurred in her life. It slowly came back. I found it food for thought. Our lives do change greatly over a ten year period, our preferences, prejudices, opinions, changes driven by circumstance and fate and experience. Mine did/has anyway.

 

I'm reading 'Lola's Secret' now by Monica McInerney. I'm enjoying it, I'm about halfway in. She tells a good entertaining yarn about family interaction. I read one of hers some years ago set in Hobart. This one is set in Clare SA where author Monica grew up in a family of seven children. Thank goodness for books, I love reading.

 

 

Vietnam {2}

 My overriding conclusion, having read this book on and off over a few months, is that it was completely crazy for so many people to have died needlessly over such a long period. So many more maimed physically and scarred psychologically and enormous destruction and pollution of property and landscape.

Probably millions of Vietnamese died over decades of conflict through active participation in war, collateral damage, friendly fire, execution, torture, starvation. A horror story. Fifty-five thousand Americans died. Billions of dollars wasted. Planes, helicopters, tanks, trucks, APC's, bombs, missiles, it's mind boggling. The suppliers of all this to the war machine on both sides, right down to small arms and uniforms and medical equipment were those that profited, as were those who benefitted by corruption and misappropriation.

That it went on for so long is hard for this reader to fathom. From memory the Americans knew they were to withdraw as early as 1968. President Nixon could well be accountable for more than 20,000 American lives lost after that year, as he prolonged the war to save face and make the withdrawal of America at a time when the inevitable victory of the North would look like a failure of the South Vietnamese Government. The peace talks dragged on and on in a political farce. Huge bombing raids were undertaken on the North and in Laos and Cambodia on the supply lines when it was known defeat of the South was certain, but political public image took precedence over any rationale.

As I recall these bombing raids were initiated from aircraft carriers off the coast, or from Guam, several hours away by flight before they got to drop their bombs on the target area. Dozens of planes a day, thousands of tons of explosives, most of it dropped with little accuracy in regard to civilian destruction. More tonnage of explosives than used in the entirety of WW11. The missiles and anti-aircraft systems of the North including MIG fighter jets were Russian supplied and vehicles, tanks, trucks and light arms were Chinese or Russian.

As I said the other day, I sent the book to Rickyralph so I can't check stats. One incident that I recall was on a US aircraft carrier, I can't remember its name. There were several of these huge ships off the coast of Vietnam, from which dozens of fighter bombers took off each day on their deadly missions. Many more, bigger bombers, flew from the US base in Guam, several hours flying time from their targets. In this accident a returning plane when taxiing to its hangar storage collided with a parked plane and a fire started which quickly escalated into a major emergency. Before it was extinguished 172 crewmen had been killed, many incinerated in their quarters where they were trapped. Millions of $ damage to the ship and planes. Mind boggling. These ships housed thousands of people and carried dozens of planes. Imagine the cost of such a thing.

I don't know how many of the 55,000 American deaths were by accident or friendly fire, but it was a substantial proportion. Not only that there were also numerous homicides committed in the American forces. In the later stage of the American involvement there was a serious drug problem involving drug running on an organized scale. Some soldiers went nuts while stoned and fired on innocent civilians and disliked officers of their own creed. Take out the drugs, there were still murders of officers who tried restoring discipline and punished misdemeanors harshly by withdrawing privilege. There was one instance of a young Australian female singer entertaining troops who was shot dead on stage while performing. It was said an American marine aiming at an officer in the background missed his target. 

Australian involvement was minimal compared to that of the US but just as horrendous on small scale. More than 500 Australians lost their lives. I recall reading somewhere once where half of these deaths were the result of accident. I recall also seeing somewhere that the first National Serviceman killed had only been in Vietnam a short time, maybe a week, and was shot by another Australian patrol who mistook his for enemy. It was his first day out on patrol. Recently I learned of a National Serviceman who was Killed in Action near Nui Dat on the 17th of February 1967. Vic Pomeroy went to the same school as me (before I was there), Camberwell Grammar. His birthdate was on a marble pulled out of a barrel. He played footy for Camberwell seconds before he left for Vietnam and was a clerk for a fashion warehouse in Flinders Lane. He was 21 when he died. He never got to be a father or grandfather.

The book Vietnam concluded in its final paragraph with a question for the US. What did it learn from Vietnam? 

It answered, " Not much it seems, or we wouldn't have invaded Iraq."

I'm reading an antidote book (novel fiction) now that Lib's sister Pat sent her for Xmas, "What Alice Forgot" by Lian Moriarty. Alice fell off an exercise bike at the gym in 2008 in Sydney and woke up thinking it was 1998 with no recollection of the ten years between, nor of the three children she was now the mother of, knowing nothing of their birth or personalities or changes to herself/lifestyle. Interesting.

I did go down the river and get those blackberries on Tuesday after my post here. I felt good that night, the exercise seemed to have freed up the back. But I have relapsed, very sore now. I have a remedial massage booked for this arvo, maybe need more chiro too next week. 

    

A Good Rain at Last

There was a significant rainstorm last weekend, much needed by our plantations in the River Reserve. It came in the early hours of the morning following some showers during the previous afternoon and evening. The warm weather of early May that caused me to delay sending the package that included chocolate to Elvie for Mother's Day*, has left after the rainstorm. Yesterday morning was frosty. Nights are now cold.

I was caught out by the storm, I had intended to clean the spouts before the weather broke, it was on my list last week, but last Wednesday evening I hurt my back pulling a big African daisy down the river. I didn't have my handsaw and dabber bottle of herbicide as I went down to that area just to check on Cape Ivy regrowth. I hadn't been in there for some months. Yes, there was quite a bit of Ivy. I enjoyed getting it out, easy before it mats and takes over. I came across some African daisies and they were easy too, until the big old one held on. Stupidly, I keep pulling without adjusting my stance, bending my knees and gripping the stem lower. I knew straight away I'd done damage; it felt like a strain in the side across to my left hip. Walking home was most uncomfortable. I realized I'd put my lower back out.

I drove to Seaford with Gord the next day to attend to some registration payment paperwork for his purchased Mazda that he couldn't do at the PO here. I picked up a Kiwiberry plant I had ordered at Perry's Nursery in McClaren Vale on the same trip. I'd tried to make an appointment with my chiropractor here in Victor Harbor, but the office was unattended. I was put through to an affiliated practice in Bendigo who told me Friday was booked out and made an appointment for me for 3.30 last Monday. I spent 4 painful days and saw Louis Monday. He clunked me around a bit and reckoned I was fixed but would be sore for a while. Well, I'm still sore, not sure I'm "fixed", but I'm taking analgesics and trying to convince myself I'm coming good. 

In this last week I've done little, the discomfort robs you of enthusiasm for any task. The spouts will have to wait, so will any gardening. I am determined though to go down the river later today and 'cut and paint' blackberry regrowth I saw in the same area last Wednesday before I left to come home. They are only small and are easy to get at now following the months of dry weather we've had and the die off of annuals, which will sprout again with wet weather and warm towards spring, making the area hard to get into. It's close to the billabong and is moister than other places, hence the blackberries holding on reshooting after I cut and painted them last year. 

 Excuse me if this is boring to anyone reading. Somehow it reassures me that I'm not totally redundant because of my back, to write about it. Gives me feeling of still having some control and optimism that I won't be useless for long. It can be a bit scary, for all of us, that your life can change in the blink of an eye, a silly act, an accident. No matter who you are, or how old.

I forgot to mention in my last post that I finished the epic book on Vietnam by Max Hastings. I meant to write about that in conclusion but didn't get around to it. I've sent the book to Ricky Ralph so I can't refer to it in detail and comment will be from memory but again I feel a need to write on it. It will be next post, maybe this afternoon before I tackle the blackberries, as Gord wants me to go shopping with him now. Hell of a good fellow is Gord boy. Hell of a good wife is Lib gal too. It's nice to have good people around you when you are crook or suffering pain and discomfort. I had a massage by Julie from the Joyful Path last Saturday. Lib gave me a voucher for my birthday. It was a good time to use it under my circumstances. An hour of bliss. It didn't fix my back but made me feel so much better about life for a while. Then the Demons knocked off Brisbane in Brisbane on Sunday. Loved that.

*Meredith messaged me to say the package got there.

Flashbacks

A good thing about being in your seventies and still reasonably intact mentally, is that there are so many memories of people, places and events. Having been writing in this blog forum for nearly twenty years gives me ability to look back over those years. I rarely do. I don't feel need to. I have flashbacks in my mind every day to past events and people, triggered by the slightest thing, an object, a song, a crossword clue, a scene, a tree, a flower, something on TV or radio, I could go on and on. The flashback maybe fleeting, just seconds, or last some minutes as I indulge in a cup of tea or a coffee. Occasionally, it sends me into long contemplation that may last hours.

Mostly it's good. My memories of people are vivid, warmer in this retrospectivity than perhaps I felt about them in real time. The same about incidents, even bad ones, the pain of things I may have felt then is diminished to almost nonexistence. It's easier to recall good than bad. Pain is eased. I can think over things that happened at school, on the football field, in my employment, family situations - it's all easier to accept as part of a big evolving picture. All normal life stuff. There's comfort in the realization that I've made it here, successfully enduring whatever was thrown my way or what trauma I walked into - wittingly or self-inflicted, or unwittingly, accidentally.

With that comes an ambivalence to a lot of media. For example, all this election drama. It gives average Aussie Joe a chance to think he has some say in the direction of the nation, some control over how the country is run. I can listen to all the campaign bullshit, accusation and blaming, with knowledge that it will all roll on after the election much the same. Let me think. Menzies was PM all my early life. Holt, (McEwen) McMahon, Whitlam, Fraser, Hawke, Keating, Howard, Rudd, Gillard, Abbott, Turnbull, Morrison, Albanese. I have no feeling of need to discredit any of them. 8 Libs, 6 Labor. For all the debates and arguments, everything rolls on. From my position, of insulation by experience, I think the most important thing is care for the environment for future generations. I have no grandchildren, my time in this mortal plane is coming to an end. But when I see women (mainly ladies but also families) in the street or shops with babies or toddlers I think how wonderful life is and how grand they are to face the future with optimism. 

I hope the political entities can make it so, that Mother Earth will remain habitable for humans to live healthy clean lifestyles, so that the children and babies everywhere can reach my age and look back as I do with pleasure and happiness. And with some optimism for their children and grandchildren.

Keep the Mind Open

"Conformity leads to mediocrity. If the individual is to grapple with life, it's intricacies, it's miseries and sudden demands, he must be infinitely pliable, and therefore free of theories and particular patterns of thought."    KRISHNAMURTI

This quote struck a chord with me while I was having a cappuccino in Ara's Cafe in Victor Harbor's main street yesterday (April 4). I pop in for a coffee or green tea once every few weeks. Proprietor Deb is a friendly lady who has my admiration for the long hours she puts in, not just in the shop but preparing the food, requiring early morning work well before opening hours. There's a shelf with books that patrons can read while they partake, and I usually pick up one to read while I'm there.

The quote is from a book of selected quotes from all manner of sources, even the bible. I think maybe it's titled 'Little Book of Jewels', or similar. I went there today because Gord had some banking business to do nearby - he's buying a car and needed to do a transfer of money to a chap in Adelaide. We looked at the car when we were in Adelaide recently. It's a ten-year-old Mazda 2 with only 73k on the clock. We're picking it up next Monday, if all goes to plan. It looked a good clean little unit, but in truth there's always an element of risk buying a used car.

But I do like the quote. I'd not heard of Krishnamurti. It seems relevant at this time when a federal election is imminent. The media is saturated with cliched garbage as well as trade tariffs and recession talk. A good time to have an open mind, be flexible, be ready for the unexpected.

If Trump could have a second go as US president, anything is possible. 

*Gord bought the car. We picked it last Monday. He now needs to sell his Skoda Roomster. 

I turned 73 yesterday. I had a chiropractic session in the morning, then a haircut, followed by one of Deb's yummy pasties with coffee at Ara's Cafe. Gord and Lib made delicious homemade pizza for my birthday dinner. Chiro worked a treat, I'm feeling FANTASTIC!

I'm Back

 I didn't go anywhere; I just took a break from this blog. Didn't feel like writing. I think little Pip's poor health had something to do with it. She had been off her food for a while and I tried different approaches and types of food which worked maybe once or twice, then not. Depressing it was to see our little mate losing weight and leaving her food bowl hardly touched. Sometimes she'd come back to it for another mouthful but often it was left untouched. She could no longer jump and struggled a bit to get up the step here and there, as well as much reduced vision and hearing. I went to the vet and bought some special soft food. I was relieved she ate some enthusiastically that night, but she spewed it up later.

Knowing she was nearing the end I took her to the vet to confirm that it was time. The vet agreed, saying her kidneys were failing. I made an appointment for the next afternoon to return for her euthanasia. Coincidentally Robbie was coming from Victoria that very day, so we all had a final night together to say our goodbyes to her. Lib and I took her back to the vet the next day, the boys didn't come; they didn't think they could handle it. She's buried in our back yard where she spent the last almost 4 years of her life.

 

It was a tearful time for all of us, I had a lump in my throat many times when she came into my thoughts through daily routine of feeding etc. A wonderful family companion she was for nearly 18 years. We grieved. We grieve still, but it's easing. We were so lucky to have her for so long. She survived being poisoned by eating snail bait in my van when she was young, anal gland infection and operation, toe amputation following an infection, snake bite and several near misses from traffic. Once she disappeared down a wombat hole and I couldn't get her out. I thought the wombat must have crushed her to death but just when I was about to give up all hope, she came gingerly trotting after me, covered in red dirt. 

I took a break also from my Vietnam book. I borrowed 'Capricornia' by Xavier Herbert from the library and had four weeks to read it before returning it. It's a long book, a novel, set in Nth Australia from say WW1 time to about the late 1930's when it was written. I'd read it some 30 years ago and loved it and wanted to read it again after telling friend Geoff up the road about it. Geoff was raised in Darwin which is essentially the hub of the story. It illustrates the hardships and inherent racism that existed at that time when blacks, half castes and yeller fellers had little chance in life. The racism was not just reserved for the indigenous, it extended to Chinese, Japanese and Filipinos, all of which were plentiful. The boom and bust of the cattle industry and the cruel climate of floods and droughts affecting agricultural pursuit show that life in the top end wasn't easy.

I'm back into 'Vietnam'. I find it - in a word - disgusting. The corruption, the atrocities and brutality by both sides, the stupidity, costing countless thousands of lives. A political war based on ideology. I won't overload you with statistics but by the end of 1966 there were 385,000 Americans in Vietnam and it was announced there would be many more coming. The cost of the war had been budgeted for $2billion for 1966, but the final bill came in at more than $15billion and would rise to $17billion in 1967. Thousands of tons of bombs and defoliants were dropped wiping out villages and food supplies. Hard to comprehend.

I will read on.  

Vietnam

 I'm making slow progress on the current book I'm reading, Vietnam, by Max Hastings. It's important for me to finish this book, despite the large amount of detail in diplomatic and political spheres over a long period. I am getting the gist of it. I'm feeling compelled to write briefly about it. 

As I was about finish primary school, President Kennedy was assassinated. Kennedy had been mindful that his government's decisions on policy in Vietnam would have great significance at the election to follow in November 1964. Early November '63 Kennedy was shot dead and shortly after, President Diem in South Vietnam was murdered in a coup by military generals and a new President installed. The new guy didn't last all that long and in turn was murdered and there was another murder and change over, and maybe yet another before '64 was out.

My mate Graeme Forster and I started secondary school at Malvern Grammar that year. I met my great mate Rickyralph that year. Our focus was certainly not on Indochina as 12-year-olds, as we each grappled with the newness and the idiosyncrasies of our particular family circumstances. As Graeme and I played on the beach at Lorne in the summer of '64/5, Lyndon Johnson basked in glory following a huge landslide victory in the US election in November.

Skirmishes between Communist and South Vietnamese forces escalated during '64: a mini sea battle in the Gulf of Tonkin when a US destroyer fired upon North Vietnamese patrol boats after "imagined" torpedo attack, later resolved as turbulence (by sudden change of direction by the destroyer) picked up on radar, precipitated a bombing raid by the US on targets in the North. A show of might and power meant to deter and cower.

It was an extraordinary aspect of the war, that the American people and their legislature acquiesced with little remark in a vast military commitment to a faraway country, heedless of the fact that the rest of the world including Britain, France, Japan, Canada - almost every developed democracy except Australia - thought US policy foolhardy in the extreme.

Prior to 1965, most of the direct American assistance to South Vietnam was advisory and in training ground forces and pilots. American helicopters ferried South Vietnamese to conflict zones and covert US operatives were parachuted into remote areas to gather data on the strength and movements of communist forces. There were as many as 26,000 US personnel advising the regime government and the military. The South Vietnamese seemed to lack the will to fight with desperation and urgency. Many defected to the Vietcong. The American involvement was seen by the North as Imperialism, similar or worse than the colonialism they had suffered for many decades. American planes and helicopters were shot down, pilots captured. The bombing of the North steeled the iron will of the communists.

It seems the ego of the new President and those around him entwined with the nation's global prestige. Coordinated assaults by the Vietcong culminated in an attack on the Brink Hotel in Saigon on Christmas Eve, leaving two Americans dead and 58 wounded. Late in December VC regiments mauled a Vietnamese Marine battalion leaving 60% casualties and most of the officers killed. Four American helicopters were shot down. Patriotism helped stifle debate when American boys were dying.

A dramatic expansion of America's war in Vietnam had become inevitable.

A Year on.

 Last January I was in hospital. It was an adventure starting on 18 Jan and concluding 28 Jan when I was discharged from Flinders Hospital following a carotid artery clean out operation a couple of days earlier. 

I posted on this, also some follow up, last February in A Stroke of Luck (4 posts) and I've read them through to refresh the sequence of events and my feelings at the time.

Earlier this month,13 Jan, I received a FB message from a lady, Sarah, I met at Flinders Hos.

Close to one year since meeting you Carey. Thinking of you at this time. Hoping this New Year brings continued health and happiness. x 

I responded thanking Sarah for her kindness in Flinders and her message and offering reciprocal best wishes for '25. She replied.

Thank you, Carey, your words are just so beautiful, they really mean a lot to me

I'll never forget that time and like you said, with many plusses. Your kind wishes for '25 are not taken lightly, love and peace💚 I love this, thank you. So happy to hear that you are enjoying life, I pray that this continues; even more joy is to come.

Go gently at this time, sending lots of smiles and prayers😍.

Sarah is wonderful. A diamond. She was in hospital suffering from symptoms diagnosed as MS. She was so caring and helpful to others in the shared ward, mostly elderly gents. She has a young son who started school last year. We are friends on Facebook and it's my great pleasure to see her posts now and again. And indeed, to have met her a year ago.

I'm pleased that my health since that incident has been good. I have been physically able to continue my assault on weeds in the Hindmarsh River Reserve, including olive trees, boxthorns, boneseed, watsonia, African daisy and cape ivy in the main, but also some sweet pittosporum, English ivy and nightshade here and there. This second half of summer and autumn I'm moving into sections I have spent little time previously. I pray my health and strength in back and legs continues so that I'll be as satisfied with '25 as I was with my substantial achievement in '24. 

 

2025

 Here I am, 1 Jan '25. All is well in my world if you consider world in the terms of my everyday life. Not the larger concept of world, that seems to be in a hell of a mess. And the term all is well in my world perhaps also needs qualification. It's not perfect.

I wish Lib was in better health. She's fair to middling, but still suffering from fatigue and other symptoms of what she believes is Long Covid. A feeling of tiredness, some nausea, muscle soreness and lack of energy and "brain fog". Apparently, there are millions of people worldwide with this affliction. I wonder, is it a result of the Covid, or a response to the vaccines we were coerced to have in order to function properly in daily life?

I wonder also, what caused me to have a mild stroke last January? I know it was a blockage in my carotid artery. But what caused the blockage by accumulated cholesterol muck in my neck? It was explained to me that something caused initial sticking of a particle/s inside my artery wall, they don't know what - and from there further particles got caught at that little snag which became bigger until there were little fragments coming off causing significant blockage to veins in my brain taking blood to certain areas. The operation they did, I was told later, was complicated by the fact that there was a vein twisted around the artery, whereas usually they are parallel. I asked could that be because more than 50 years ago I suffered a very heavy blow to my jaw, just above that blockage spot, breaking the jaw and causing me concussion, while playing football. Unlikely was the reply. Sometime this year, there was press saying that the AstraZeneca was removed from use because a known side effect was causing blood clotting. I had two of them! Then a PFizer. All basically by Government decree. Wonder indeed! Many unanswered questions.

When I think about world affairs, with current wars and threats of escalation, I wonder if we'll be here to see 2026. Then again, for most of my life I've lived in the knowledge that nuclear war is a real threat to human existence; it hasn't happened so I'm hopeful it won't now. There must be some agreement, or joint reluctance to pull the trigger, by those with their finger on it, given the potential for total destruction. I wonder again.

With the above in mind, realizing most of the information/misinformation is fed to me, often coming from completely opposite viewpoints, it's best not to dwell too much on it, but to get about my daily life doing my best to assist those around me and the natural environment where I can have some effect and at the same time enjoy the many pleasures available in order to enjoy my retirement. This I don't wonder about - I do it.

I'm continuing to read the book on Vietnam. If ever I needed evidence that Governments can be completely flawed, it hits me like a brick with every read. I could copy excerpts for this post, so amazing is the belief system causing that dreadful debacle, but I don't think I need do that. I'm up to 1963, when there was a Buddhist rebellion and Monks in orange robes were torching themselves in order to bring international awareness to their plight. I vaguely remember this being news when I was 10 or 11 years old. It horrified me then, so I quickly shut it out of mind.

My legs are working well with much less stiffness. No more neuralgic pain in the scalp to the ear. I haven't taken any painkillers for over a week. Still some minor soreness/stiffness in the upper thighs and buttocks - putting socks on etc. still a little awkward, but I suspect I'm pretty much back to normal for a man in his seventies. Will get more blood tests Jan 6 and see what that shows re inflammation and cholesterol and kidney function and whatever Doc wants to look at and discuss.

Ian Sinclair came Christmas Eve and stayed till last Saturday. He's well. It added to our Christmas cheer. He's now in Victoria on his way to get some work done on his Mitsubishi Delicia 4WD van by a specialist in Geelong who says he can put new bushes in the rear suspension correctly, a job many repairers not so familiar with that vehicle don't get right. He's then heading to the Victorian High country before returning to Thailand where his son Jethro works and is building a house well out of the city somewhere. He's teamed up with a young Thai lady from a village and a housewarming on the first night in a new house has great cultural significance and Ian is invited.

Reaching Out at Christmas

Writing this blog is somehow comforting to me. I don't know who reads it, probably not many people, but I know some good friends are regulars. It's with them I feel I'm communicating my thoughts and this case my best Christmas wishes. It's good people I've been associated with who have made life something to cherish. So Merry Christmas to you who reads and may you be favoured by a gentle breeze and good fortune.

The hospital (Flinders) rang me today, a part of the surveillance program on my carotid artery. The purpose of the call was to discuss the pictures from my ultrasound examination done last Friday It was scheduled for yesterday, but I was shopping in the mall on Friday when a phone call came from Jones Radiology to tell me they'd had a cancellation and if I could be there in 20 minutes I could take the spot. Apparently, my artery is OK. There's been small change since my last ultrasound but not sufficient to cause concern or action. I'm clear for another 6 months when they'll organize another U/S.

I remain afflicted by the stiff legs despite my remedial massage program, so I've booked a Doctor's appointment for 6 Jan. I'll inform Doc that I'm cutting the statin tablet into quarters and therefore taking only 20mg per day instead of the originally prescribed 80mg. I'll request blood tests for checking cholesterol and markers for RA as well as all the other things Doc usually does. I should then know more of my situation and have a better idea of whether it's the statin causing my leg/bum muscle difficulty, or something else. All I can do is keep looking for solutions, which is the same with everything, for me and everybody.

The soreness hasn't stopped me doing anything. Most days I go down the river for an hour or so and do good things. Very satisfying.

I'm slow but the book on Vietnam tells a gruesome story. I'm still only about 15-20% of the way into a 600-page small print book, but it's absorbing. I did not realize there was a large-scale revolutionary war with the French years in duration in the first half of the 1950's. Losses of people and resources by both sides, as well as much suffering by the civilian population, most of whom were poor to start with. Then after the formal partition of Vietnam into north and south there was brutality and atrocity in extreme, by both the communists and the Diem Regime, in the second half of the decade. 

I started this post last Tuesday - it's now Thursday.

The USA largely bankrolled the French for years with equipment and money due to their paranoia about communism. No doubt the Korean thing was a factor in this. The British were reluctant to become involved by joining the US with this support, believing it to be futile for France to try to maintain their colonial asset in Indochina (If they couldn't hold on to India what hope could France have).

 

After all the Geneva peace talk stuff and partition the US continued its financial input, now to the Diem regime in the south. The money and equipment were misused in huge corruption making the Diem people wealthy and most of Vietnamese population even more poverty stricken. An almost unbelievably inept disastrous level of incompetence and corruption. I will read on, difficult and slow as it is, such is the detail, but in my humble opinion the author has done an amazingly good job so far.

Back to my health situation. Starting Monday I had neuralgic pain at the top of my head shooting down to my right ear every minute or so. It was not severe, painkillers eased it, but I used them sparingly. Tuesday night I woke a couple of times with the pain stronger. At 6am Wednesday I took two Panadeine. At 6.30 the pain persisted so I took two Ibuprofen. The shooters were now every 10-15 seconds. After 7am I said to Lib I think I'll go to the hospital to get a blood test, to check inflammation and my RA markers given my history. Lib drove me up and came home.

Seven and a half hours later, I rang Lib, she picked me up. The doc at ED, Amy, a lovely young of lady of Scottish origin (I wish I'd asked her how a Scottish lass came to be a doctor at Victor Harbor Hospital) told me I did the right thing coming in, my inflammation levels were high. After consultation with rheumatologist, she said it was unlikely it was temporal arteritis (I had told them of my scare some 15 years earlier when I had artery biopsy to find negative for that) but to monitor myself closely and if I had strong pain, trouble chewing or vision issues to get back there quickly. By this time the pain had eased. She told me to ask for more blood tests at my Jan 6 Doctor's appt to compare with today's. 

I'm not mucking around; I'm going to take Ibuprofen say three times a day if necessary and mix it up with Panadol. I'm confident I'm OK or will be fine in a day or two. I have a bit of an overreactive immune system methinks which gets a bit enthusiastic when it encounters triggers. I was getting prickled and bitten by ants, mozzies, mites, flies down the river and munching antihistamines to alleviate rash. 

I feel great today, no pain. My leg soreness has almost disappeared entirely. Maybe that's because I've upped the painkillers, maybe it's because my massage program took a while to kick in, maybe it's because I reduced the statin to a quarter of a tablet a couple of months ago (80mg>20 daily) and that took a while to kick in. I'll share all this with Dr Kamahl Mamoud when I see him on Jan 6 and take it from there.

All we can do is "Keep firing." I repeat my Christmas best wishes to my friends. May your lives be filled with joy. I love you.

 

 

History

I'm a lover of history. Lib bought a book at an op shop a while back. 'Vietnam - an epic history of a tragic war', by Max Hastings. It sat unread for a few months while I read other  books ahead of it in the queue; perhaps these others seemed less serious and more entertaining so moved ahead of it. I finished 'The Pursuit of Happiness' by Douglas Kennedy and had that feeling of loss when you read a long book that fully engages. It seems to me Douglas Kennedy is a pseudonym - the book is written in the first person, told by two women unrelated by blood but very much by circumstance. How could a man have such insight into female emotions? But a google search indicates I'm wrong. There was an historical element in the book, following people's lives through post WW11 in the US through a few decades.

 

I started 'Vietnam' yesterday. I've only read the introduction and 9 more pages. I have found it eye opening and have learned so much already that I didn't know, starting with history through the centuries of occupation on and off by China, then French occupation and exploitation over many decades, then WW11 when Japan usurped the French for a time. It seems everyone wanted the rich natural resources there for the taking. Add to that drought, famine and floods in the WW11 time frame with millions of people dying of starvation and it's no surprise I already feel enlightened and there's over 600 pages to go as it moves on to the more modern Vietnam/American/Australian war. It might get ugly. It will get ugly.

 

We had our FHRE Xmas break up lunch yesterday at the house up the road of one of our  members. A happy turn out, good people. I haven't been doing so much down the river this past few weeks. After a busy winter and first half of spring when I put in a lot of hours solo work due to logic of timing with weed flowering, I've eased right off. I'm suffering from soreness/stiffness in my upper front legs, at the top where legs meet torso. It slows me down and is uncomfortable more than severe, but I'm resting up a bit. I'm hopeful it has nothing to with the mesh inserted in my lower abdomen/groin in a double hernia operation about ten years ago, or isn't relapse of the Rheumatoid Arthritis I endured some years ago. More likely it's an issue with my lower back causing tightness and restriction through the hips to the top of the front of legs. I had a back massage a week ago which was great but the soreness remains. Next step is a back realignment in a remedial massage. Last resort doctor. Bad scenario hip degeneration, but I don't think so. 

 

I've been doing my best to avoid politics, the media has been unrelenting on the US election and are still at it, not to mention our domestic political intrigue which will escalate to frenzy in the coming months. I have a good tactic to keep my sanity. I get up each morning and put the radio on, tuned into Classic FM. As they say, "Life's better with music." Late at night I turn the TV to the Relaxation Music channel 844 and enjoy peaceful bliss with my cinnamon tea, preparation for beautiful sleep and dreams. Getting up a couple of times during the night to relieve the bladder from old man syndrome is no hardship, in fact I love the quiet and peace of the dark and usually stillness as I take in the night sky.

 

But not the night before last, when huge thunder cracked above waking me up to go look for old Pip, who was wandering around in pouring rain like a zombie, not in complete panic as she did prior to old age but totally disorientated. It was some storm, as loud thunder as I've ever heard. Good thing though, we had about 15ml of much needed rain.

Avuncular

 I'm not sure why, but on my way to the Saturday morning market yesterday a word came into my head. I resolved to ask the first three stall holders if they knew its meaning. I didn't have recall.

Kate my chocolate lady had no idea and used her phone to google it, but it was not working. Sarah my egg lady didn't know. I asked Peter at my fruit and veg stall and he looked at me strangely and asked me to spell it. By the time his wife Sophie had finished serving me he came up with an answer from google - "kind and friendly towards a younger or less experienced person."

eg- He was avuncular, reassuring and trustworthy.

I checked the Oxford pocket dictionary when I got home - "Like or of an uncle esp in manner" Latin avunculus - uncle

In the afternoon we went up the road for a barbie and to watch the AFL Grand Final with our good friends Geoff and Di. A friend of theirs was also present, Al from Strathalbyn. We had a great day. As we were leaving it occurred to me to ask each of them in turn if they knew the meaning of the word avuncular. Di first, a retired nurse shook her head in the negative. Al, a retired toolmaker also didn't know. Then I turned to Geoff, a retired schoolteacher and principal, thinking he would know. He didn't either. But they all do now.

I was pleased that the Ashcroft lad won the Norm Smith medal. His mother is the daughter of John Townsend who played in the Melbourne 1964 premiership team. When I was at Gatton College in 1974 a teammate in the Aussie rules football team, along with me one of the few who'd played it much previously, Jason Payne (Paine?) his name, told me his sister was married to John Townsend. Jason was an excellent player. Will Ashcroft certainly has a lot of footy genes. His father Marcus played 300 games including 3 premierships for Brisbane.

 

A Trip to the Riverland

Late morning of Monday 26 August Lib and I headed off for a change of scenery for a week. With the Skoda loaded with stocked esky and pantry box and a bag of clothes each our first destination was the Berri Caravan Park where I'd booked a cabin for two nights. It's always nice to hit the open road starting a road trip. 

We stopped for lunch at Strathalbyn which is a town about half an hour's drive from home. Pasties at the local bakery was the fare. I had a Ploughman's, Lib a standard. Mine was so big I struggled to finish it, despite it being the best pasty I'd ever had. Lib agreed with that assessment. We resolved to stop there on our way home and buy some for the freezer.

Between Strathalbyn and Murray Bridge we picked up the freeway heading north. I drove peacefully, not really knowing where I should turn off. I couldn't find my road map of SA before we left but was unconcerned thinking there'd be plenty of signage to take me to the Riverland. Mistake. At Tailem Bend the Murray was on the right (how come?) and I was wondering where the turnoff was. I kept going.  By the time we reached Coonalpyn I knew I'd gone wrong. At an intersection I saw a number of cars parked in front of a school/library, so I did a leftie and thought I'd ask at the school. I could find no people, despite entering several buildings, until after about 10 minutes I found a group of four ladies in an office way out the back. They explained it was a student free day which is why the school was almost deserted. 

They explained I should have turned off into Murray Bridge, the road to the Riverland was from there. There was a quicker back way along gravel roads to pick up the road I should have been on at Karoona. The youngest of the quartet, a delight, offered to come back to our car to help me how to work the GPS. She couldn't get it to work then I remember there wasn't one installed even though the facility by way of a screen was built in the dash. So, she tried my mobile phone into which Gord has installed some sort of Google map GPS thing that I don't know how to operate. We gave up on that and she gave me verbal instructions to follow the road I had turned into until it hit a bitumen crossroad then turn left and drive some 40k's to Karoona, then turn right and we'd get to Loxton/Berri. I have to admit I was totally disorientated, maybe that's a symptom of advancing age. I apologized to the girl for being a nuisance and thanked her for her effort. She said, "Not trouble at all, thank you for giving me reason to get out of that boring meeting."

By the time we got to Loxton, a three-hour trip had turned into five hours. Lib said she felt like a steak for tea so as we looked for a butcher, we saw a sign T-Bone Steak $24.99kg outside an IGA. They were in two packs and huge. Berri was 15 minutes or so away and we pulled into the caravan park at 5.28pm just before the office closed, which would have again tested my technology to manipulate the afterhours procedure. Cabin 24 was OK but standard ordinary, comfortable enough for us. The steak was magnificent. Lib cut meat off both, they were so big, we kept it for stir-fries for another meal.

Tuesday was windy, we took the opportunity to rest up in the cabin reading, and in my case doing crosswords and sudokus. We did a quick shop and took a walk on the river in the evening when the wind stilled. Lib made delicious tuna mornay for dinner. Wednesday, we drove to Renmark for a salad roll picnic lunch in a park by the river, then Lib stocked up on clothing from an Opp shop. Back in our cabin, after booking in for two more nights, we had the rest of the T-Bone steak with stir fry veg. Again delicious. Thursday, we explored around Loxton and booked into the caravan park there for two nights, but only stayed one as it turned out. Lamb loin chops for dinner back at Berri. Lib cooked on the nearest communal barbecue as she likes to do. Each night we the only ones using it. I cleaned it up afterwards, as I did also the dishes in the cabin where we ate.

The cabin at Loxton was newer, spacious and upmarket at $180 per night! Right on the river, with great walking tracks along and up steps to a grand lookout. Friday, we toured the historical town/museum for $10 a head, seniors price. A cooked chook from Woollies with salad for dinner, again delicious and with plenty of meat left on the chook for lunch sandwiches the next two days.

Using our phones we booked the Saturday night at 'Balcony on Six', an old hotel lodgings at Murray Bridge. An hour or so was spent in the gaming venue next door where Lib indulged a flutter on the pokies. I played too, on a one cent machine one line at a time, I lost $2 but had an hour's entertainment, if you can call it that.

Last night on our trip, so we got a family sized Italian pizza from 'The Oven' in the main St around the corner and it didn't disappoint. Leftovers to go. Sunday morning we were out to Monarto Safari Park early to pay entry and catch the first tour bus at 9.30am. We also booked a close encounter with the lions for 12.40pm, which was a fantastic experience. just enough time between tours for lunch from the esky of chicken sandwich and pizza.

Sunday it was nice to get home after stopping at Strathalbyn to get pasties to take home. That's about it. Gord did a good job looking after Pip and the maggies and the house in our absence. Roast lamb for our customary Sunday roast dinner. Magnificent.

If you think I seem to be preoccupied with food, you are right. It seems the older I get the more I enjoy my tucker, and a week on a leisurely holiday is the perfect chance to focus on simple joy. Also, by recalling meals helps me recall places where we were and what we did, the general sequence of events. 

  

And So it Goes

 I was walking in Victor Harbor crossing the road at the pedestrian crossing on Hindmarsh Road, from the Central Mall to my favourite shop 'Raw' to get some goodies. Someone had written in chalk some words from which I could barely make any sense. There was reference to AMBOS with an arrow pointing towards the ambulance station some distance up the road, as well as mention of Bible verses and some profanity amongst other things that were unintelligible. "They will go to Hell" was the conclusion.

While I was reading this and trying to decipher it a lady and her husband walked by and stopped to read.

"Somebody is a bit disturbed," I said. She agreed and said it was probably the same person she saw earlier that morning dancing around in front of the ambulance station wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. 

They walk among us, as I've heard said many times. The big worry is that in other places there are those now getting around wielding knives and attacking unsuspecting bystanders. Horrific!

August has been busy for me. The first week was good weather, so I got busy tonging the watsonia in the riverside we didn't do last year. Did heaps. Weather has turned now, rainy and showery, good for our plantings.

I got blood tests done last Tuesday in preparation for my consult back at Flinders Hospital on Sep 3. I don't have the results yet. I was booked to get an ultrasound on my carotid artery last Wednesday. A lady from Flinders University rang me on Monday asking me would I enter a research program on carotid artery blockage as I was a suitable candidate with the high-risk history. It entails going to Royal Adelaide Hospital next Wednesday and having a CT scan done which apparently shows far more detail than an ultrasound. It's about surveillance follow up to see if the carotid is blocking again as can happen. They'll take blood from me also which will be examined and stored for future research on me should it be done after my lifespan. This is in conjunction with my consult at Flinders Sep 3. I agreed as it seemed win/win for me. Only trouble is I have to get to R A Hospital at 11am next Wednesday, rather than the ultrasound here in Victor which I was told was not necessary if I was doing the CT scan.

My next-door neighbours Mark and Deb left for Brisbane last Thursday week. I rang Mark yesterday to see how they were because of all the rain in Brisbane. They never got there. Second night from here was in Parkes NSW in a motel. Deb took dog Lucy for a walk as she does twice every day and Lucy was attacked by a pitbull. Deb went to assist and the bloody thing latched onto her arm tearing it badly. Lucy was seriously injured and on 24 hour care at a vet's, just coming of drips today. Deb was hospitalized and had surgery and may need plastic surgery later. They never made it to Brissy to visit one of their sons and will head back here in the next day or two, expecting to get home on Wednesday. 

Just shows you, you never know what the next day brings.

Eye Drops and Other Things

I copied this below from my regular posts from Daphne Gray-Grant, a brilliant lady, a 'Publications Coach' who offers hints to both novice and serious writers.

Because my eyes remained dry for months after the trip, I eventually went to see my optometrist. He prescribed eye drops but instructed me to get the single-dose variety, which contains just enough fluid to moisturize both eyes, once (you break open a tiny plastic ampule to get liquid for one treatment).

These single-dose varieties, he told me, don’t require the same number of chemicals needed by entire bottles of eye drops, which guard against contamination over time. (If the tip of the bottle touches your face or eye, you are contaminating it.) The optometrist put me in that category of people who get irritated eyes simply from the chemicals in the treatment to fix eye irritation. Ironic, no?

It sparked my interest because at different times, having suffered from dry eyes, I've purchased and used these eye drops. Without going too much into this history, I say that yes, they give me comfort after application. My optometrist at one point suggested I should use them four times a day but if I couldn't do that then at least twice, morning on rising and night before retiring. I bought the type he recommended at his reception desk, these being more expensive than the others I'd brought at the chemist or supermarket previously, but he said they used recent innovations and were far mor effective. 

I used them for a while and bought another bottle at the high price, but after a while I decided to give it a go without them. Now I still get dry eyes, some days worse than others, but generally speaking, with blinking repeatedly they're OK. Daphne went on to talk about eye exercises such as blinking, rolling eyes, and side to side exercise. I'm happy in that I'm not spending money on eye drops that might get contaminated and I'm not putting chemicals in my eyes.

Daphne said, Ironic, no? Irritation from the very treatment to fix irritation. This led me to think of other things people do, that I have basically dispensed with, believing it to be unnecessary, and so saving money and reducing application of chemicals. I speak of hair shampoo, dandruff and other, and anti-perspirant deodorant. 

Yes, I sometimes still have a small amount of dandruff. For many years, even decades, I washed my hair every time I bathed, most days, with anti-dandruff shampoo. I had no dandruff. But if I stopped using the shampoo, a big incidence of dandruff surely followed, which is why I kept using it. Like an addiction, my scalp reacted if it didn't get its fix. I read somewhere that washing the hair everyday was not beneficial, it removed the natural oils that would keep things in balance. This guy only occasionally used soap and rinsed his hair now again with water. So, I tried that, it works - I have slight dandruff now and again, but I have no issue with it, it diminishes naturally. Another saving.

Same with the deodorant. I don't use it. When I did use it every day, for decades, if I didn't put it on one day, for sure I'd stink with BO. But by stopping using it and the body adjusting, I found that most times I don't need it. I bathe every day, with a minimum of soap, clean water is good. The body adjusts to what you do to it. If I work hard in hot weather and perspire profusely, I sometimes will use underarm if I'm going to be close with people, but in the main I don't use it and don't need it.

Like alcohol and nicotine, our bodies get addicted to things. Without them there's strong reaction. We go on a treadmill, back to the well, spending money. Most of it is unnecessary. Sugar's a big one, take a look at the supermarket shelves and aisles. Junk food too. 

The Bank Teller and The Barber

I was in the bank Monday, withdrawing my weekly cash allowance (self-imposed). The teller, a young lady named Megan, asked me how my weekend was. I told her a little story explaining a highlight as there were no customers behind me and it was nearing 12.30 when the branch closes for an hour. I asked her whether she had a good weekend and what was a highlight. She replied she went to Adelaide to help her partner buy a suit. He'd never owned one before and needed one for his wedding, they were getting married soon. I asked her when and she said the day after the King's Birthday weekend coming up soon. The registry office is only open on Tuesdays, they are getting married there.

I have a nice rapport with Megan, since I first met her a year ago when she started work at the bank. I told her of my very good friendship with Megan Kelly in the 1970's. We have drifted but I have much fondness for Megan K, now O'Brien. Sister of my friend Mark in Wangaratta she was fun loving with a sense of humour that would brighten anybody. I told bank teller Megan that my Megan back then was the only person who could have me enjoy dancing. I was not a dancer and frankly loathed it at the many functions of the day. But with Megan I was OK with it and grooved along with no reluctance. Megan K's youthful joy and laughter often appears in my memories fondly.

Megan today explained they weren't having a wedding celebration. They'd have the long weekend off to prepare, the Tuesday off to tie the knot at the registry, then back to work Wednesday. Other than her partner's father coming from Cairns to be a witness, there'd be no family to share the occasion, something they were both happy with. I gave her early congratulation and wished her well. I'll drop in a box of chocolates for her the week before the wedding. Her partner is named Nicco she told me in answer to my question. He's Dutch South African by origin.

The barber who cut my hair a couple of weeks ago had an amazing story. As I waited while he did the bloke before me, I overheard him say he'd been on cortisone for many years and it wrecked his bones. When my turn came, I asked him "Why the cortisone, if you don't mind me asking?"

He was a sickly kid during childhood after his family migrated from England when he was three. Doctors couldn't find what was wrong him until eventually he was diagnosed with acute Chrone's disease, which was not supposed to happen to one so young. I'm not sure how old he was at this point and my recall of his story may not be 100% accurate. Somewhere along the way whatever was going on with him caused him to have rheumatoid arthritis and a lot more cortisone. After some time, he was nearly buggered, in hospital for a long time. they were going to cut his leg off, he was all set, they'd painted orange on his leg so there could be no accident like cutting off the wrong leg. I knew what he was talking about as before my recent carotid clean out they'd coloured the side of my neck to make sure they did the right one. There was a Canadian doctor present (on some exchange arrangement) at the last prep session who suggested if this patient could be given to him to treat with a new bio injection treatment, he reckoned he could save the leg. It worked, but over time the weekly and now self-administered injection had adverse side effect.

He lived on Hindmarsh Island. His wife was at work. He was home alone and didn't feel well. He went to the toilet to vomit and collapsed over the bowl. Heart attack. This was last November. He said he would have died were it not for freakish lucky breaks. His wife would have come home to find him dead in the toilet. His son was coming from Morphetvale in his car to go to the schoolies function in Victor Harbor, an annual sheebang attended by thousands. He had been looking forward to it and planning for it. He was driving to VH and something made him change his mind. He inexplicably decided to forego the schoolies and go and see his dad instead. When he got there, he found him unconscious in the toilet. He bundled him in his car with great difficulty and drove him the half hour or so to VH emergency. 

The barber remembers little of this, but he recalls a lady in the waiting room letting out a blood curdling scream when his son brought him in and laid him on the floor. Staff came running. He remembers a nurse leaping over him and rushing outside, that's all. She was running to catch an ambulance crew who were around the corner at the ambulance ramp driving away. By a miracle they were a highly trained crew of paramedics who had transferred a patient, a job not normally done by these cardiac guys but fortuitously they were there. She literally banged on the back of the ambulance as it was driving off.

The barber learned these details later. The paramedics rushed him to Flinders Hospital some 50 minutes away, all the time doing CPR or whatever it's called, pumping the chest to keep him alive, breaking ribs in the process. He was operated on and survived. Apparently, the position of his blocked artery meant the normal outcome is an explosion causing death, but by a third miracle it didn't happen and he's a rare survivor of that particular event.

I asked him how old he was. 48. I thanked him for sharing his story and gave him a healthy tip. I wished him well and said I hoped he made it to 72, like me walking around healthy. I left the shop, thinking I'm so lucky.

Before the Rain

 It's been a while since I posted. I've been busy with one thing or other. Footy season too. Good to see the Suns touch up the Cats last night.

I had a haircut yesterday. The bloke cutting my hair was a ripper. Told me amazing stories of his health battles since he was a toddler. I'll write it up before long while it's fresh in my mind, but not now, it will take some application. Definitely worth recording.

For now, below l copy and paste from an Email I received this morning which explains some of why I've been busy. Added to it I've had a program treating weed trees in a section of river I had not previously been on the other side, olives, boxthorns, pittosporums, tobacco plants. Good to get in there now while it dry, the river low, and the reeds and died off for easier access. Also snakes not active.

Hi Members, A big thank you to those folks who up potted the last of our seedlings for the season.  

These plants will be our starting stock for 2025 planting season and already our team is discussing where to place this wonderful selection. 

🌿🌾Acacia Pycnontha 160 (Golden Wattle) - Dodonaea Viscosa 25 (Sticky Hop bush) - Acacia Acinacea 40 (Gold Dust Wattle)

We wish to thank all our members in meeting outside of our normal hours to advance our planting season before the rain.

This adjustment has been working but only with the assistance of our team volunteering to water the new plants.

Many thanks to  the following folks:

Tony and Di for taking on the watering of Wattle Res up-stream end group of several gums: To Di and hubby Jeff for taking the job of watering Cootamundra Res new plants: To Carey who wanders all over the place watering those in need: And also to the friends of FoHRE along Wattle Drive who have offered access to their water so our members do not have to cart water to the sites: and of course to CVH for watering the bulk of the plants in the reserves during this dry season.

                                  💥 Get ready for a WOW!  👀💥

83 kangaroo thorn, 87 christmas bush , 102 drooping sheoaks, 80 pigface 23 cup gums, 10 pink gums, 10 sideroxylon

to name only a few but add up to 440 so far of our very own plants (seeds collected, propagating to seedlings and then planted)

All of the above plants have been planted to build on the existing tree communities, to enhance the biodiversity of the reserves, to improve the entrances / exits of each reserve and to fill in some bare areas.

Again, a big thank you to all.

Co Coordinators