Once More Around the Sun - Solstice 2024

I've just launched into my 70th rotation while Peter is about to complete his.  We are the same age for precisely 3 months and 6 day of each year, that being the case as I write. 

Pete conducting the Happy Birthday Choir

We concluded 2023 with a lovely get together for Pete's 70th birthday attended as always by the remarkable Dawnie aka Fiona and G-Man aka Grahame.  Dawnie's lovely mum Von was also a regular until just a few years ago but sadly Dawnie has now joined her as a very precious memory after an extraordinarily brave battle with cancer.

Our dear English/Canadian/American and now Australian friend Judith left us a couple of months later.  I say "now Australian" because it was Judith's wish to have her ashes scattered here which is something I agreed to facilitate many years ago.  She's now part of the Australian landscape.

Bruce claimed the box

Kim's terribly special mum Noelene, who was the last remaining parent in our circle with very large shoes to fill, shuffled off a few months later and that made 3 so we shall hear no more talk about death for some time to come, thank you.  Not unless it's someone from my shortlist, like Donald Trump and his dickhead deputy or Putin and his oligarchs, OK?!

So onto happy things.  Thinking, thinking, thinking...

I kicked the year off by rescuing some baby red-bellied black snakes at the Rose Seidler House in Wahroonga.  Sure they're a bit venomous but all creatures apart from tyrants, extreme capitalists, leeches and ticks deserve their best shot at life.  The poor little buggers were just newborns trying to cross an extremely hot asphalt driveway with little success.  A helping hand was in order.

Next we stepped back nearly 50 years with a visit from my old uni mate Sheree.  We lived on the same floor in college along with the unforgettable Cate Foley who neither of us has thankfully been able to shake so Pete, Sheree and I pointed DeDe the Lesbaru southbound to visit Cate and Brian at beautiful Batemans Bay for a few nights.  That included a tootle around the Southern Highlands en route because Sheree attended St Trinian's School for Girls in Moss Vale which mysteriously closed when she left with all documents sealed and archived for 99 years by a special act of parliament.  The school itself is now fenced off and has a spooky Chernobyl vibe only with stray bogans instead of irradiated dogs.  God only knows what those girls got up to!

Peter, Cate, Brian & Sheree

We said farewell but not goodbye to Lori, Pete's amazing support worker of 5+ years in May.  Having graduated and finished with university for now she decided to travel and good on her.  Lori will always be part of our lives just not on a weekly basis but she found her own replacement and now Caitlin is fulfilling that role in an extremely effective way.  This and a number of other services are covered by the National Disability Insurance Scheme which makes our lives and those of many others work so much better than they otherwise would.  Praise be to Julia Gillard and Bill Shorten!

Peter & Lorie

The NDIS provided Peter with white cane training which is great.  That's more about giving dipshits a visual cue to avoid him than it is about Pete or at least that's the theory.  The reality of the situation has seen me morph into a very nasty oversized fox terrier who yaps at transgressors and sometime nips them on the ankles.  "You can see the man with the white cane but he can't see you.  Now get your face out of that fucking phone and keep left!"

And speaking of keeping left we did mostly that around 2000km of the state mid year.  I began with Joss' 50th birthday celebration at Port Stephen then progressed on to Armidale where we're stayed with Sheree, visited Shara and caught up with Tim after 46 years.  We hadn't been there since COVID so I was suffering withdrawal, Armidale being my spiritual or certainly educational home.  But before we headed inland we caught up with one of my oldest friends from those halcyon days, my good friend Lizzie.  Last time we saw one another was at her wedding to Paul in flood ravaged Lismore way back in December 1978 but we've always stayed in touch.

Glenn & Lizzie 46 year ago and now

Sheree, Tim (also 46 years on) Glenn & Peter

Now listen up Fast Forward fans; Lynne Postlethwaite is alive and living I Armidale.  Macca's was doing onion rings for which I developed a passion at A&W in Lincoln, Nebraska also in 1978 so I dropped by and there she was banging on to her mother about her children... "I love them Mum, I love them dearly, I’d do anything to help them Mum but I’ve got to think of my own health, Mum!"

From there it was on to Moree which was home to my grandfather for a time and where he and his brother enlisted in WWI.  Their mother Bertha was a massage therapist at the local artesian baths in the days before happy endings.  But happy and Moree aren't words that often appear in the same sentence.  There has been much unrest over the years involving street gangs and disaffected youths so every motel in town is a security compound but the Chinee restaurant in the local arsehole (RSL) club is beaut as was the garlic prawns over rice at the Lemon Tree Passage bowlo (bowling club - lawn of course) a few night before.  In fact we dubbed this the Arseholes and Bowlos Tour because we ate at one or the other almost every night and kudos to all but Dubbo which let itself down.

The completely unexpected standout was the Narrabri Bowlo where the bistro is run by a Sri Lankan couple so why not order the Ceylonese Devilled Prawns?  Bloody stunning!  I'd go back to Narrabri just for dinner!

But that's not why we went.  My cousin Rae who is the family genealogist discovered a hitherto unknown great aunt Irene "Rene" Abell who died at just 4 years and 8 months.  Grandma was not the youngest of three but the second youngest of four.  We didn't know that though and Rae and I both suspect our fathers didn't either.  Mine certainly never mentioned her so I can only assume the child's name went unspoken after her passing.  I'm usually not a grave visitor but I needed to see Rene's and leave a small stone from our garden just to make a connection with her.

We also visited the Narrabri Anglican church where my grandparents were married, and I assume Rene's funeral was held, and met Bernard the exuberant barefoot minister and that was a bit spooky because Grandma and Pop's first son, Rae's father, was Bernard.  But wait, there's more!  Latter Day Bernard and his wife who we also met found one another while studying at my alma mater, the University of New England albeit a few years after I was there.  They made us extremely welcome and even offered to get out the parish records but given everything pre 1956 was lost in the Very Great Flood of that same year there didn't seem much point.  We thanked Bernard, his wife, their teenage son who was in the church practicing for a music eisteddfod, the apprentice minister and the parish musical director who were all there by this stage and we were on our way.

The spot where my grandparents married in 1919

Dubbo Tucker Tip #1

Having been disappointed by the bistro at Dubbo Arsehole club for the second time in my life we discovered the Nepali Food Mandala on Macquarie Street and my advice is go to Dubbo for a momo but order some chatpate as well.  It's a blend of puffed rice, onion, potato, peas, tomato, dry noodles seasoned with the Colonel's, or perhaps the chef's, special herbs and spices.  I've been searching for it for over 40 years since having first discovered it's fresh and crispy blissfulness at an Indian restaurant in Rozelle during the early 80s.

With Dubbo done we headed home via the Golden Highway which I imagine is named for the abundance of wheat and canola at the Dubbo end but the further into the Hunter you go the bigger and deeper the open pit coal mines get till you arrive at one near its terminus that could actually swallow Dubbo in its entirety.  It utterly astounds me that dupes of the fossil fuel industry claim wind and solar farms alienate farm land yet stock can be grazed under both and even benefit from the shade of the latter.  Meanwhile open pit coal mines totally destroy farmland and are so enormous that even the mining industry itself admits they can never be rehabilitated.  Then there's the small matter of global warming which apparently isn't happening.

The middle of the year also saw catch-ups with two special people.  The first was my good friend and mentor Joy Murray who was the guiding light of the technology training program I worked on for years and enjoyed so much.  It was the absolute highlight if my career and Joy was only one who ever took a genuine interest in my professional pathway.  She also found a safe space for me away from school when my father was dying and my mother subsequently became a nightmare because Dad was no longer there to fill the ever expanding dementia gaps.  Bouquets Joy!  And she turned up at Newington bearing one when everything went arse up with Peter's neurosurgery and again at Hornsby Heights when we got married.  Special lady!

Joy & Glenn

And then there was dinner out with my cousin Tanya who is one of the Southern Cawthornes up from Melbourne to teach a Lamaze course.  Tanya was born in Hong Kong when her parents were working there then lived in Ireland and Israel before finally returning permanently to Australia so we didn't actually meet until she was all grown up with two kids of her own but what an amazing woman.  Put yourself out there and they'll find you!

Glenn & Tanya

Next came a visit from the Buchmanns who travelled from the snowy wilds of Northern Ontario to explore huge amounts of Australia and New Zealand.  Trevor and Erin, their 3 kids and 5 friends from Bendigo with whom they were travelling, came for dinner and how good that our table seats 12 and I can feed that many if I put my mind to it.  Pete and I had the best evening in recent memory and I don't mind telling you I had a tear in my eye when they left.  Now this all started because I got talking to Trevor's lovely mum Karen in a hotel elevator in Vancouver in July 2000.

The Buchmanns

Travel Tip #1

Always talk to strangers.  That's how the next paragraph came to be.

Speaking (as I was) of 1978, my old friend Lin came to visit from the North-East of England with her partner John.  We met on an airport bus in Los Angeles that year, travelled together across large swathes of North America and remain close friends to this day with numerous visits in both directions.  Last time Lin and John came they caught COVID of some maskless hacking bastard between Dubai and Sydney so the plan was to pick up some of that itinerary and also head down to Canberra for a taste of both countryside and capital which we did.

John, Linda, Peter & Glenn

Canberra is one of my happy places and it's always a joy to share it with others.  It's also a chance to visit Timmy's Kitchen in Manuka for shan tung chicken and English spinach with garlic which we only did once, somewhat down on my personal best of three visits in three days.

September rolled around and brought with it my 70th birthday which I suppose should have been a big thing but I just couldn't be arsed.  We had a pleasant lunch at home with just 7 of us around the table, the rest of my nearest and dearest being off travelling or dead as seems to happen around this age so all power to those who make hay while the sun shines and do the former.

 

Bruce notched up 5 years home in October and the very shy and nervous 2.5 year-old who came to us in 2019 is now a reasonably confident and definitely settled boy.  When Sue and Paul visited from New Zealand in November he even sat on a chair at the end of the table during dinner just like the Late Great Kev used to do but without the promise of prawns which he's not fussed on.

Brother-in-law Tony had another fall about that time so it was back and forth to Lady Davidson Rehab Hospital with Jan for the next 10 days and that continues with appointments and what not for all four of us because as I write I'm the only driver I the family.  Oh, and we have another 6 Million Dollar Chook who also needs to be driven too and from vet appointments so it's as well DeDe the a Lesbaru got new shoes the other week.

As I said, our friends Sue and Paul visited from Wellington at around the time Tony took his dive and it was lovely to see them, least if all because they always bring me a couple of loaves of Vogels bread which even when you could get it here just isn't the same as the New Zealand one.

OK, final downer for the year (I hope), our much loved but only judiciously used ducted air conditioning is kaput.  The unit that's hidden somewhere in the ceiling has to replace but the great expense isn't the half of it, the old one has to come out and the new one go in somehow.  I doubt the Dodgy Brothers who built our house thought of that, just like a number of other things.  It would seem they had the business installed then put the roof on over it.  Meanwhile it's all ceiling fans on high and louvre windows wide open.  Replacement date 15 January.

But it's not all doom and gloom, our Big Pond which is both a visual and cooling feature of the house design has been resurrected after succumbing a lotus attack earlier this year.

Water Garden Tip #1

Beautiful though they are, shun lotuses.  Ours broke out of their containers and ran rampant like Triffids eventually destroying the sealant which had been applied to the masonry during the pond construction rendering it formerly but not currently watertight.   

Enter our utterly indispensable garden chap Lars emptied and cleaned the thing which was a mongrel of a job made worse because of the subsurface structure.  Massively strong and heavy wharf mesh is suspended 200mm above the floor to achieve a legal depth of 300mm despite a functional depth of 500mm.  I simply can't move the stuff but Lars got it out and 6 coats of sealant later we have just this week restored the now lotus-free pond to its former glory with just waterlilies and such.  The froggers are beside themselves with joy and are soon to be joined by a small school of frog-friendly native fish.

Lars reinstalling the pond water feature

 

OK, that's quite enough from me.  Only the most hardy of you will have made it this far and for  that I congratulate you.  All of our creatures, the garden and my ramblings are what keep me off antidepressants and too much alcohol.  Now there's a combination I'm sure nobody has tried!

Please tread lightly upon this increasingly fragile planet.  Incoming US President, Elon Musk might be keen to colonise Mars but that's just madman's bullshit, the Earth is all we have!

 

 

Once More Around the Sun - 2023

Remember when Christmas and birthdays took an age to roll around? Now they fall on alternating Thursdays. Tempus fugit as my mother would say in her dementing years when she took to dropping contextually appropriate Latin phrases into conversations. My memory seems to have somewhat fugitted as well as my tempus but let's try and recall a little of the year, shall we? 

We kicked off with a small Drummond reunion of sorts. That was my now defunct college at the University of New England and I suppose the departure of our select little group was a key element in its demise. Sheree came down from Armidale, Cate and Brian up from Batemans Bay and The Hun joined us for lunch on Sunday. A good time was had by all and unlike years gone by there were no hangovers next day. Everyone seems to have either learnt or died. 

Hun,Sheree, Pete, Cate & Brian

And speaking of the latter, Pete and I helped scatter my cousin Des' ashes a couple of months later. That was the culmination of a weekend away at Jervis Bay. We went down two days ahead of the others and had a lovely time in Booderee National Park with its friendly marsupials and white sandy beaches. In fact nearby Hyams is one of just 397 around the planet which claim to have the world's whitest sand. Simply stunning! 

Peter, Glenn & Skippy XXXVII

Des was passionate about a family shack and the creek behind at Old Erowal Bay on St Georges Basin so decided to have one final and perpetual dip there along with Buster the dog who predeceased him. Scattering Des was simple enough, although we did all have to hang onto one another to stop from toppling in, but Buster had to be busted out of the urn the pet cremie had glued his ashes into. Fortunately Des' best mate came prepared for all eventualities with both screwdriver and hammer at hand. 

The family shack is indeed just that. I remember going there with my parents and grandfather when I was no more than 4, my mother immediately launching into a frenzy of cleaning to get rid of all the dust and cobwebs. I also remember the creek although my mind's eye sees a pond with goldfish both having been lifelong obsessions of mine which probably began with whatever I imagined I saw in the water that day. 

Our next sojourn was to beautiful Mayfield Gardens out near Oberon, home of The Big Trout which in itself is entirely worthy of a visit. It's just a shame the water in its pond has long since evaporated leaving the trout quite high and quite dry. But never mind, the gardens themselves were well worth the drive as the bevy of Thai, Korean and Vietnamese marriage scammers who were using the colourful foliage as background for their portfolio shots will all tell you.  

The Big Trout at Oberon

Autumn leaves at Mayfield Gardens

And speaking of things Asian, Jan and Tony's garage took on the appearance of a rather smart Japanese tea house around this time as the roof began to sag but unfortunately the concrete block side walls also bulged correspondingly outwards. In short, it was falling down. 

Now let me take you back to post-war Australia where the housing shortage was worse than it is now. It was common for people to buy a bush block on the urban fringe and put up a garage to live in while they built a house which was usually a fibro majestic because nobody could afford brick or even weatherboard. This was the case with J&T's place although the garage was concrete and the house brick, both built by the original owners in the late 1950s. But time and too much stuff packed into the rafters will take a toll. Tony is a collector and the garage, which has never housed a car due to its rotten wooden floor, finally called it a day under the weight of his many treasures and quite simply suicided. 

And there went most of the rest of the year, shoring it up, clearing it out, demolishing it, removing the rubble, having concrete laid, putting up a new shed and landscaping what was left. Now there's a valuable lesson I think we can all take something away from! 

On a happier note, there were visitors.  Jenny from Auckland in March and again in December; Lara, Nikos and Yiannis came from the UK in April; and a return visit from Cate and Brian in September when my best mates from high school and beyond, Mick and Al joined us for dinner.

Jenny, Glenn & Peter

Lara, Nikos, Yiannis & Glenn

Peter, Brian & Cate

Alison, Glenn & Michael

The end of September saw us at Fran and Trevor's 'Chateau Raines' in Shell Cove for a weekend long house party with Gwennie's Gang. That's the name of the WhatsApp group we have for the staff survivors of the Croydon Park Public School Infants' Department from the early 80s. We're been thick as thieves for years and are even closer now than we were back then. It was a lovely weekend with 11 of us in all. Pete and I took the scenic route down catching up with old friends Allan and Ian for lunch in the Southern Highlands en route and it felt like a little holiday, another of which we enjoyed the very next weekend. 

Pete, G-Man, Chazza, Droog, Sister Janet, Frannie, Dawnie, John, Trevor & Brother Ian

That was Andrew's 70th birthday weekend and yes, they are all rolling around. The Reverend Foy hired a bus to take several dozen of his nearest and dearest on a magical mystery tour of the Megalong Valley with lunch and tastings at Dryridge Estate winery which is an utterly unbeatable location. Their salmonella smorgies (grazing platters) were excellent and the wine rather nice but best if all was the company. 

The Reverend Principal Foy (emeritus) middle of shot (not wearing mustard)

Glenn and Kathie, ever hopeful!

Pete is now using a white cane when he goes out and that's made a big difference. His vision hasn't deteriorated any further but other people have become more stupid, especially those with mobile phones. The cane is long enough to trip them up before they do any damage then I abuse them because my gentle husband is far too nice to give anyone the sharp edge of his tongue.

Pete having white cane training with Viv from Vision Australia and his amazing support worker Lori

Life has cruised on apart from that with the usual medical and dental appointments for the usual complaints, all manageable. Bruce was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy earlier in the year and now has his own kitty cardiologist. So far, so good. Our flock matriarch Truganini has suspected throat cancer so is undergoing palliative care. At almost 10 she's too old for anything invasive and is happy as a pig in muck anyway. If you didn't know what to look and listen for you would suspect nothing so I'm not anticipating the green dream anytime soon - touch wood. Gorgeous little Cilla Black & White the silver laced Wyandotte developed a particularly copious chest over the last year so was fitted with a crop bra which she seemed rather proud of. It lifted the whole business up higher than her digestive tract so the food went down rather than building up and turning sour which is a less than ideal situation. Sadly though, she died of an unrelated condition a few days ago. I suspect she was egg bound and went before I could get her to the avian vet. Not all of our fur and feather family are special needs but those who are enjoy extremely generous healthcare and retirement plans. 

Bruce chilling on Dad's legs

Our beautiful 4x4 metre lotus pond which is a fairly critical design element of the house in terms of both appearance and cooling has developed a leak about half way down its 500mm depth. That's where the level has stabilised so I've turned off its water feature and consigned the whole problem to autumn. At least it's the lotus pond not the long pond which is home to our fish. Everything is going to have to come out so we can drain it but in the global scheme of things that's completely insignificant. Imagine just how much worse it would be to have a leaking lotus pond in Gaza or Ukraine! 

Which reminds me, I haven't made any political comments thus far so here it comes... 

Federal opposition leader Peter Dutton is a divisive, scaremongering, ultra-negative cunt who refuses to work and play well with others unless there's something in it for him. And there you have it! 

So don't be a Dutton, think about others. Consider the planet and all that live within its embrace. I know for a fact that some of you have children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren who might need it someday. 

Peace, love and solstice mung beans 

Peter, Glenn, Bruce and everyone else at number 5 

Footnote: My brother-in-law Tony will be in anything but a shit sandwich (as Mother used to say). It's impossible to prevent him from assisting tradies and so it was when the water heater blew up a fortnight ago. Lachlan the plumber had almost finished replacing it when Tony took a header into the garden and cracked his head on an edging stone. The outcome: cuts, bruises and a broken wrist which is in a cast for 6 weeks. All kudos to the NSW Ambulance Service, the Emergency Department of Hornsby Hospital and the home nurse who comes to dress the wounds twice a week.

You've gotta love the ambos!