 |
| Glenn, Susie & Peter with the evidence. |
It's Jacaranda Time in the Heights of Hornsby which means Chanukah, Solstice, the Feast of Saturnalia, Christmas, Kwanza and whatever else you choose to celebrate or ignore is fast approaching or may have already passed. So happy/merry/drunken whatever to you all.
We kicked off the year with a visit from Sara, Mags and 20 month old Tessa who is gorgeous and remarkably quick. Bruce was quicker though because she never managed to meet the pussycat but did get to pat the chooks and collect their eggs. We went to Clareville Beach one day and I was reminded that's it's a piece of Paradise just a 45 minute drive away. That was a bittersweet day though because whilst we enjoyed the calm of Clareville we also discovered that our favourite lunch spot in all the world, hole in the wall Thai restaurant Chilli Sha Sha, has morphed into a handbag boutique as if Newport didn't already have enough of those!
Peter, Glenn Sara, Tessa & Mags.
The main event for 2022 took place on 25 January, our 25th anniversary and the day Peter and I chose to marry. So many had fought so hard and long for that basic human right, as had we and the date was perfect so we sealed it with a little help from an old colleague and good friend. The irrepressibly exuberant and ever so funny Susie is not only a fantastic teacher but also the best ever marriage celebrant.
We kept it simple and did it at home. Only a few people knew before the announcement was made later that evening because we'd known one another for 30 years, been together for 25 and were nudging 70 so who do you invite and who do you offend? In the end we went with just Susie, my sister Jan and brother-in-law Tony as witnesses and our terribly special friend Kim as grooms' chick, photographer and caterer extraordinaire. It was a perfect day in every single way.
Cutting the limoncello wedding cake.
The honeymoon was to be a weekend at the more shabby than chic Hibiscus Motel right by the channel at Budgewoi but we had a crook chook to care for so Jan and Tony took our Flybuys booking and went instead.
We are both big fans of Jeffery Smart and there was a retrospective of his work at the NGA as well Shakespeare to Winehouse at the Portrait Gallery. The National Portrait Gallery in London, which we thoroughly enjoyed in 2015, is closed for an overdue tart up so many of their works are on tour. Both exhibitions were just fantastic, so good in fact that there was a time I'd have driven back to Canberra to see them again but not this time, we were off to Melbourne a few weeks later and we'd be running on a tight schedule.
Jeffery Smart - Cahill Expressway.
But before that we headed on down the escarpment from Canberra for a weekend with Cate and Brian at beautiful Batemans Bay. We arrived just in time to listen to the auction of Peter's family home 400km north at Saratoga, something we'd only discovered was happening a week earlier. Just like everything else to do with the hijacking of Peter's immediate family the cousins got their fingers into that one as well. They even stripped the house of all they wanted after Debra died leaving scant worthwhile keepsakes for Peter who already has a fractured memory. Anyway it's done now and everything to do with them is buried along with Debra's ashes.
Brian, Peter & Cate at Tomakin.
Life's Regrets #978... Whilst driving home from Batemans I spotted a farm that sold chooks and knowing that we needed two more DeDe the Lesburu did a U turn at the next safe place and took us straight back to the gate. So in I went, full of hope and out I came with a Light Sussex and a Speckled Sussex - both 18 week-old hens, or so I was lead to believe. Of course they turned out to be 14 week-old roosters. They were lovely lads but you can't keep roosters in urban areas so there began the search to rehome them. A Gum Tree ad brought a tsunami of offers most of which were clearly sinister but Colin and Barry are now living happily with a young chap out at Maraylya who keeps their specific breeds. I've visited them and all is good.
May saw the adults finally back in charge again in Canberra and what a relief that was! Give me a lapsed Catholic over a lying, cheating, Seven Mountains of Self-Worship 'christian' any day!
One of my oldest and dearest friends Lin and her partner John arrived from Durham in Northern England in early June, an impromptu visit because John's brother down in Caringbah was in a bad way. Unfortunately they only got to see him the day they arrived and the day they left because they picked up COVID from some unmasked hacking bastard on the flight from Dubai to Sydney. Peter and Jan then both came down with it but having had the same several weeks earlier I got to play Nurse Ratched to everyone as #5 went into iso while tough as nails Tony sailed right through the whole thing unscathed.
Lin & John.
Earlier in the year we were invited to my late cousin Russell's grandchildren's bar and bat mitzvahs by their mother Tanya so it was off back down to Melbourne. I reconnected with Russell's wife Zelda several years earlier after having met Tanya and the kids in Sydney through Russell's sisters Rae and Nancy and thus the Northern and Southern Cawthornes were reunited.
Following Liev's bar mitzvah with Amalia's bat mitzvah was apparently a first for the shule and certainly for us. We'd been into synagogues before but never to a service so found it immensely interesting and also a great privilege. Next morning was a family brunch which included my cousin Richard and his daughter Ami who we met for the first time the previous evening and it was just such a lovely gathering. Rae, her daughter Annalisa and son-in-law Tim had also travelled down so it was all warm and fuzzy although that might have been the two glasses of mulled wine I rather enjoyed. It was winter but I was glowing in my shorts and Hawaiian shirt which I love to wear in Melbourne where people dress like they're going to a big fat Greek funeral.
The Northern & Southern Cawthornes.
We were also able to spend some time with the illusive Uncle Russell and Princess Leia whilst in Melbourne. He's unrelated in any way to late Cousin Russell or in fact to us but holds pride of place in our personal pantheon of friends. A night in Tumut on the way down and Wagga Wagga on our return sealed it as our best ever six nights away. Who can pass though Tumut without buying at least six brooms and our visit to the National Art Glass Gallery in Wagga was a real treat.
Uncle Russell & Princes Leia.
But then it was home to appointments and more appointments for Peter, Jan, Tony and myself. I accompany people to most because I ask questions that they don't which is rather critical in certain situations. Anyway we seem to have survived another year albeit with the odd minor procedure and in my case a great deal of physiotherapy. Jan has to have to have surgery on her lower back early next year and Tony a bit of laser work on his eyes but touch wood and on we go!
I spotted an ad for a cruise and heritage rail package in October and we sailed out of Circular Quay aboard the COVID Princess on the first Wednesday in November bound for Melbourne, a 1934 suburban mystery rail tour and not one but two heritage trains from there back to Sydney. It promised to be 6 days and 5 nights of whirlwind fun and frivolity if only because of the included onboard premium drinks package and a good many margaritas, all of them completely necessary if you ever travel on the Princess Line. Nothing glamorous there, just bad food and a shitty smell around the stairwell at the forward end of the ship just like on the Novovirus Princess in 2019.
But the hotel in Melbourne was lovely as was another catch up with Sara, Mags and Tessa. Unfortunately I overdid the walking that first day and 5 hours aboard a restored 1934 Tait set in 2nd class seats the next day unknowingly compounded the problem. Russell visited us the morning before we headed north on the old Spirit of Progress which was one of the two trains that used to ply the Sydney-Melbourne route back in the day. Unfortunately he failed to put his mask back on prior to descending in the tiny lift where he was forcibly joined by Humpty Dumpty and the Woman Who Ate Cruella de Vil, the most unpleasant couple in our entire group of 184. Then he had to battle through a foyer full of baggage wheeling and wielding older folk, some coughing and others just bewildered. Two days later Russell came down with COVID after having avoided it for almost three years now.
The 1934 Tait set at Glen Waverly Station.
We arrived downstairs to the news that two of our happy band had tested positive overnight but were assured they would be kept in isolation for the rest of the trip home. So off we set with me reminded of just about every overnight school excursion I've ever taken kids on although this time I could move faster than the rest of the group even with my bad back. Of course the 3 week respiratory business half of them were coughing up hadn't yet incubated in me. That happened the morning after we returned home just like Novovirus on our last cruise.
But let's forget viruses for now. When we arrived at our overnight accommodation in Albury my back suddenly screamed in protest and both of my feet stuck to the floor. I was frozen on the spot unable to more as much as a millimetre. At this point I began to channel Edina from Ab Fab as I summoned Peter whimpering "Drugs trolley sweetie, drugs trolley!"
He thoughtfully responded by fetching our stash (all prescription) through which I dug in search of painkillers and anti inflammatories. Twenty minutes later, after downing a cocktail of paracetamol, ibuprofen and Lyrica, I was able to sit on a chair. Then I remembered the happy hour open bar that was about to commence and run for the next 90 minutes because an hour wasn't long enough for some of our group to get from their chairs to the bar and back. Alcohol is a muscle relaxant so I shuffled out to the elevator and down to the bar where Peter propped me on a stool and very understanding staff brought me glass after glass of Sauvignon Blanc, six in all.
That enabled me to board the old Intercapital Daylight Express next morning for the trip back to Sydney although at a full 14 hours it was in no way express. We finally arrived home at 1:00am then it all happened again next morning. I was frozen to the bed with one very concerned cat lying across my legs. Three hours on I still couldn't move (and nor had Bruce) so I dialed 000 and asked for an ambulance all the time assuring them it was not an emergency, I was not unwell, I just couldn't move although I did need to pee.
They asked me to ensure any animals were secured but I told them there was just a cat who would head for the wardrobe as soon as he heard the door cuckoo - yes, we have a cuckoo. But when the cuckoo cucked Bruce didn't budge then when the ambos walked into the bedroom he stood astride my legs and growled at them in defense of his dad. I was proud and embarrassed all at the same time. So the Lyrica was continued, alcohol swapped for Valium and an MRI later confirmed it was all muscular so Andrew the physio and I are once again going steady.
That's it for the highlights of 2022 apart from the arrival of Cilla Black & White the Silver Laced Wyandotte, Anne van der Kley the Buff Sussex and Aunty Joan the Light Sussex. All were sourced locally and at the point of lay so I felt much more confident. They are gorgeous Girls with Anne being quite the snuggle bug who likes a cuddle before bedtime. Interestingly enough Bruce and Cilla Black & White have become friends sitting quietly on opposite sides of the chook yards gate just looking at one another when Bruce has his morning stroll about the backyard.
So be like Bruce and Cilla, try to tread lightly upon the Earth and give back a little more than you take be it in kind or in kindness.
Much love until next rotation
Glenn & Peter
Bruce in the Box.
