I do,
however, see a glimmer of hope in the form of Jorge Bergoglio, Pope Francis to
many. I’ll bet money you never thought
you’d hear this particular recovering low church protestant say the following about
a pope but I like the man! Francis has a
message for us all and it’s not just about Jesus, it’s about common sense which
is largely what Jesus was about anyway.
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But screw the planet, let’s get back to us! It was a big year which commenced with the repairs from last year’s horrible anus finally being complete. It took 16 months to build this house; 8 seconds for a tree to crush part of it; then 8 more months to set things right again but it’s done and the best bit is nobody was hurt as could so easily have been the case.
We were
fortunate enough to score yet another year of speech therapy for Peter at St
Joseph’s Hospital in Auburn. The people
there are caring and kind and they keep us under their collective wings. The therapy isn’t about actual speech, it’s
about the cognitive elements of speaking – organising thought, laying down and
retrieving information – all things Peter has struggled with since the
surgery. When I count my blessings, and
I do so every day, St Joseph’s and those there-in are second from the top of
the list.
First
place, as always, goes to Jan and Tony who continue to make our lives work. You are probably aware that Peter was
abandoned by most of his family in a particularly brutal way and at the worst
possible time, an exercise in pure evil.
It was my amazing sister and brother-in-law who stepped in to fill the
void and continue to do so.
Peter’s
lovely Aunty Joan also helps, albeit from a distance. She lives on the Gold Coast and we enjoy going
up and visit her. A northern sojourn
around May has become our habit, Queensland being just too hot for us in summer
or even spring these days. You’ll find
more about that in A Postcard from the Gold
Coast (June).
So on to
the highlights of the year. Most link to
previous blogs should my various synopses whet your appetite for more look back in – cawthorne54.blogspot.com.au
Somebody Else's Mouth – A Cautionary Tale of Gum Disease (April)
Somebody Else's Mouth – A Cautionary Tale of Gum Disease (April)
I
underwent a gingivectomy in April – an oral circumcision of sorts or a gum-lift
if that thought bothers you. I was sure
that any excess flesh was all removed in late September 1954 but not so, there
was more to come at the other end!
Medications, genetics, shear bad luck, or a combination of all three
caused my gums to grow to the point where periodontal treatment became
impossible and gum disease was rife so under the knife I went.
This was supposed
to be a relatively simple procedure that would take around 2.5 hours. Imagine my surprise when I awoke 5.5 hours
later with my face packed in ice and a catheter up my penis! My private room had the Middle Harbour view
I’d been promised but wasn’t big enough to swing even a very small cat. It was, however, just big enough to contain
the surgeon, the surgeon’s assistant, the anaesthetist, a nurse and a wardsman
who were all packed tightly around my tiny hospital bed, poking, prodding and
otherwise adjusting me and applying more ice to reduce the swelling and
distortion. That was when one of my now
famous claustrophobic panic attacks set in.
If you want to see me lose all shame and dignity just confine me in a
small space or crowd over me. It was
ugly!
The
recovery time was outrageous and as I write in late November, my mouth is still
not my own. My gums no longer bleed but
my bite has changed to the point that chewing my fingernails of ripping open a
bag with my teeth is an utter impossibility and much of my actual ‘chewing’ now
involves pushing food up against the roof of my mouth with my tongue.
Ergo: If you have gum disease do something about it
– don’t leave it till you need surgery!
Return of the Native (September & October)
England no
longer swings like a pendulum do, although you do see Bobbies two-by-two, many
of them now carrying machine guns, particularly outside Westminster Abby or the
Tower of Big Ben. There were no rosy red
cheeks on the little children, just iPhones and the like.
I won’t
revisit old ground here because it’s all covered in the 10 fairly thorough Return of the Native blog postings
which precede this one but allow me to just list the highlights:
·
Reconnecting
with our very special friend, Lin and meeting her lovely Westie, Piper.
·
Visiting
the Yorkshire village of Cawthorne which turned out to be anything but “Paper
bag in middle of road”. It’s actually
quite flash and boasts a very smart ‘gastro pub’.
·
Experiencing
Durham – a most beautiful old university town, the third oldest after Cambridge
and Oxford.
·
Accidentally
standing in the very location of a thrilling yet scary childhood storybook image
of the railway tracks and viaducts around the Castle Keep in Newcastle.
·
Very
intentionally riding a train hauled by my all-time favorite locomotive, Sir
Nigel Gresley, a replica of which was my first (and still treasured) Hornby
Dublo 3 Rail engine.
·
Spending
three nights at Lindisfarne on Holy Island.
Those monks were into S&M!
·
Spending
three more nights on a canal which saw me develop an entirely new skill set
I’ll never again use. Although having
said that, anyone for a houseboat on the Murray?
·
Exploring
gardens, glorious gardens! And fields of
green – Sting’s song played in a loop in my head as we motored across
beautifully lush landscapes!
·
Climbing
castles – functioning, semi-functional and abandoned. They’re everywhere!
·
Seeing
Lara and Nikos in Cambridge and meeting their son Yiannis for the first time.
·
Touching
the door to Stephen Hawking’s actual office – the Holy See of Science!
·
Visiting
the Thames Barrier – a most amazing piece of engineering!
·
Finding
the place where the rotten prison hulks were moored on the Thames, and the very
spot where the convicts were loaded for transportation to Australia.
·
Seeing
The Book of Mormon – the BEST musical of our lives! Love it, love it, LOVE IT!
·
Delighting
in the Palace of Westminster – mother of our own parliament and a cornerstone
of democracy.
·
Seeing
the Rosetta Stone and Elgin Marbles at the British Museum.
·
Paying
homage to Harrison’s Clocks at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich.
·
Not
knowingly seeing a single member of the Royal Family although I did visit a
toilet previously used by the Queen, my second Royal Flush, the first being in
Canberra.
·
And
speaking of bogs and old queens – photographing the public toilet in Soho where
shock-jock and all-round bottom-dweller, Alan Jones, was arrested trolling for
gay sex.
It goes on
so look back at the blogs if you haven’t already.
The Demise of the Mad Monk
What sets
our Westminster System of government apart from the Congressional System is that
when the mass of the population finally realise their prime minister is
slightly madder than Rasputin, you don’t have to go down the American route and
assassinate them. You just get another
one and we finally did. I was dancing in
the streets of Durham when I heard the news.
The locals had no idea what it was all about but happily joined in
nevertheless.
I’m, yet
to be convinced that Malcolm Turnbull is much more than a wolf in sheep’s
clothing (sorry about the wolf slur, Nancy) but at least we’ve seen an end to
Abbott’s bizarre and entirely self-serving “captain’s calls”. And how ironic that Frau Battenberg refused
to allow him to “frighten a little mouse under her chair” when he recently travelled
to London expecting to do exactly that!
She was probably as pleased as I am to see his arse-end after he tried
to set her grandson up with his daughters.
What a national embarrassment was that?!
And in conclusion…
We have
shared yet another year with Kevin, the amazing cat-shaped being who is our
constant companion and sometimes comfort.
Kev will be turning 16 in February, old enough to get his learner’s
permit so if you’re out and about on the roads best watch out!
The
Significant Women – Sylvia, Hazel, Margaret, Oodgeroo and Truganini – have been
a great source of enjoyment for us as well as Jan and Tony. I can highly recommend chooks for therapy as
well as eggs. I feel my bloody pressure
drop whenever I’m with them.
And
finally, our three cold-blooded co-residents are all well as are the multitude
of fish, frogs and tadpoles which inhabit our ponds and gardens although there
is a visiting kookaburra who does his best to keep the aquatic population under
control – we call him the Angel of Death!
Stay well,
everyone. We look forward to being part
of your lives and having you in ours over the coming 12 months. Try to tread lightly upon the Earth and
spread joy as you go.
Much love
Kevin, Glenn & Peter (Lyle to
some)
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| Click on Kev for A Taste of England 2015 |
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