94. Rhodin Drive

 

Moving from a large spacious 3 bedroomed house to a small 2 bedroomed villa was a problem. Where were we to put all our stuff. We had disposed of quite a lot of excess belongings but it was still a squeeze to get things in. We still have some boxes that have not been unpacked but I just don’t want to think about them.

 

One very large problem was the laundry. We have a large washing machine and a large dryer and they would not both fit into the laundry together. I thought that we would have to have the dryer in the garage or maybe in the dining room as if it was left in the laundry, we would have to squeeze around it to get to the back door. The removal guys had put the washing machine into place to the left of the wash basin but the space between that and the hot water tank was too small to fit the dryer so that was sitting in the middle of the laundry. I measured the space and it was just about 30 millimeters shorter than the dryer. Then I examined the hot water tank and found that that was about a 50-millimeter gap between it and the wall to its left. How I wished we could just push the water tank a little to the left and then we could fit the dryer, but I did not think that that was possible. I told Jonathan and Jace what I would have like and they thought that it might be possible if they used flexible hoses to change the plumbing. Obviously, we had more pressing things to do at that time so nothing was done immediately. One thing we needed to do was to back to the old house in Barry Street to collect the TV aerial cable we had left behind by mistake.  Jace and I went together in the car and as we were driving away from the house, we saw one of our old neighbours.  He waved us down and asked how our move was going. I remembered that he was a licensed plumber although he was not working in that field anymore and told him the problem we were having with our laundry. Jace told him that he and his dad were thinking of moving the tank and using flexible hoses. He said “You shouldn’t use flexible hoses for that job. What you need is a good plumber”. I laughed and said “Where do you think I could find one of those?” Well, the upshot of it was that he said that he would come around in a couple of days to have a look at the job. He advised that it was an easy job for him to move the tank and arranged to come in a few days to do it.

 

He did a great job; we could now slide the dryer into the enlarged space between the tank and the washing machine and my laundry was neat and tidy. What a pleasure! Our friendly plumber refused to accept any payment for his work. We have been blessed with kind people who are so generous and kind to us.

 

 Before

After

What a difference 20 millimeters made to my life.

 

93 Crackneck

 

One of the many things I loved about living in Barry Street was its proximity to Crackneck. Crackneck is a view site that stands high above Bateau Bay and has a wonderful view north to The Entrance and Norah Head. Then south to Terrigal and Avoca. From there, a track starts that goes through the bush to Forrester’s Beach. It is a lovely part of the world and I was able to walk there every morning. It is a well-used track and I would get to see some people over and over again and so I made lots of new friends there. One starts off by just passing the time of day but as time goes by the conversations get longer and they become dear friends. People who have the same love of the bush as I do and it is good to share time with them. Sometimes we seem to do more Talking than Walking but that is good too. There are quite a few wallabies there and it is always a pleasure to spot them and have a chance to watch them for a little while. There are also echidnas there and birds and snakes too. I once saw a really huge Diamond python there but have not been lucky enough to see her again or to spot the echidnas.

 

The Wallabies are so lovely to watch. I remember the first time I saw one, when I had not been walking at Crackneck for very long. I had obviously startled it and it bounded across the track and off into the bush before I had time to think. I walked on a little further and met Bill who was one of my walking friends. I was so excited as I had no idea that there were wallabies in the area. I told Bill “I just saw a kangaroo”. He smiled at my enthusiasm and my ignorance, he informed me, “Actually it was really a Wallaby, we don’t have kangaroos around here”. But never the less I was thrilled and since then often see the lovely creatures. They are pretty shy but sometimes if you have come up to them quietly, they will just watch you for a little while, continue to munch on the leaves they were so busy on and wait until you make a fast move before bounding away to safety. The first day I saw a wallaby was also the same day as I saw the huge Diamond python. She slithered across the track about five meters in front of me and I watched her for a minute or so before she was lost in the bush, but I was so excited I did not think to get out my camera and take her picture. Shortly after that National Parks and Wildlife did a back-burn in the area to minimize the risk of uncontrolled fires there, and Lisa another regular walker, told me that she had met one of the women from National Parks and Wildlife walking out carrying a huge python. The lady told Lisa that because of the back-burn they were going to take the python away to a place of safety but that they would return her later. So, I was sure she was in the area but although I always look out for her, I have never seen her again.

 

One morning when I was on my way back from my walk I met up with Kim, another of my walking friends, and she told me that she had just spotted a snake. She said that she had been up there walking the evening before and had spotted the snake curled up beside the track and when she had passed the there that morning it was still in the same place. She thought that there must be a problem with it and I agreed. When we got back to that spot again, she pointed him out to me. And sure enough there he was still curled up in exactly the same position. While we were standing looking another of our walking friends, Andy came passed and in his usual casual way said “Don’t worry about it, he’ll be right”.  But Kim and I thought differently so Kim rang one of those organizations that care for sick and injured wild life. As I was going to church that morning, I could not stick around but Kim waited for the lady so that she could show her exactly where he could be found.

 

The next day we got the news that our snake was a very sick little vegemite. He was identified as a Diamond Python. He had been taken to a vet for a thorough examination and it was discovered that he had two broken vertebrae, was covered in ticks and was severely dehydrated and malnourished. It was assumed that he had been ridden over by a bicycle, even though bicycles are not really supposed to be on the track.  He would be taken into care until he was well enough to be released and the lady promised to keep us updated on his progress. It was touch and go for a while but with the loving care that he was given he slowly recovered. The lady that was looking after him told us that she had got very fond of him as he “has a very lovely nature” (I wonder what she meant by that). As he had been found at Crackneck Reserve she had named him Crackers. And as this all happened around about Christmas time, we called him Christmas Crackers. 

 

I think it must have been about six or eight weeks before Crackers was well enough to be released into the bush again. Kim was able to witness the event but it had to be at a time that was rather inconvenient for the rest of us. Never mind we were just glad that he was well again and we think of him whenever we pass that spot and wish him well.

 

Since we have moved house, it is a 10-minute drive to get to Crackneck so I don’t go every morning now. I do still go a few times a week but I have other local walk, on the beach or around the lake that I also love but I do think that Crackneck is still my favorite.

 

92. Living in Barry Street

 

We had lived in our old house in Barry Street for 9 years and had grown to love it. Of course, there was lots wrong with it but it gave Jonathan lots of little jobs to do. Some not very little either. He propped up the pillars that part of the front of the house stood on. The cement in them had washed away over the years and the house was not very secure. I did not want him to attempt it as I thought it was too big a job for him but he was eager to give it a try. So with a series of car jacks, he lifted the house up ever so slightly and repaired the pillars. I had been rather a nervous wreck while the job was in progress, fearing that he would get hurt.

I sighed a great sigh of relief when it was all done but I should have known that once that was done, he would be looking for another challenge. The step up to the front patio was cracked and he wanted to fix that. He spent quite a while thinking and planning how it could be done. After all he is a boilermaker not a builder so he had to give it a great deal of thought. I kept hoping that he would end up thinking it was too big a job for him. The house stood on small pillars so had space between the ground and the floor of the house.  The front part was bricked in but the rear was open. Jonathan crawled on his tummy from the back to the front to examine the damaged step and see how it could be fixed. With me crying “Just leave it, just leave it” and him saying “I can do it, I can do it” the work progressed. He did get some advice from a friend who was a builder but he did the work himself. I have to admit that he made a very good job of it but I was always concerned that the house would collapse on him.

Another quite big job that he did was to put in new kitchen cupboards. The one that we had were old and not very nice. When we had first moved in, he had replaced all the cupboard doors and that made a great deal of difference as the original doors were made of chip board and as they were very old, they shed bits all over the floor but even with the new doors they were never very beautiful. I thought that maybe we could get some second-hand kitchen cupboards and started looking around. I looked in all the second-hand shops, in the places that sold second-hand building materials and on eBay and in all the on-line market places, but could find nothing. One day I was talking to a friend Ralph, who had two sons. One a builder and one a painter and I asked him if his sons knew what happened to all the cupboards that came out of the kitchens that people here are forever renovating. It really is a huge industry here. Australians don’t seem to be able to put up with a kitchen that is more than about 10 years old. It all has to be torn out and the latest and greatest new cupboards and appliances fitted. Surely those cupboards must go somewhere. Ralph spoke to his sons and came back to me with the information that there is very little demand for second hand kitchen units, so the guys that put in the new ones just tear out the old ones and dump them. But Ralph said that if I was prepared to wait until February one of his sons was going to have his kitchen renovated and as he knew we would like them he would take out the units carefully for us. That was only three months away so of course, I was willing to wait. February came and I expected to hear from Ralph but 28 days passed and I heard nothing. I did not want to nag about it as after all they were doing me a great favour. Then on the next day who should arrive with a van full of kitchen units but Ralph. I realised later in the day that it was actually a leap year so the day that I had thought was the beginning of March was actually still February. Fitting them was again a big job but at least this time I did not feel it was so dangerous and I was able to help Jonathan a little by fetching and carrying and holding things for him. I told him where I wanted the units placed and he just did as I asked. When we had had them in place about a fortnight, I realised that I had made a mistake and that one of them needed to be moved. I thought about it for a while but decided it was too big a job to expect my long-suffering husband to do. But then I kept bumping my head on the corner of one of the units and so did some more thinking. Eventually I told Jonathan that I had made a mistake and that I wished I had asked for that unit to be in a different place. And believe it or not he did not moan or complain but just got out his tools again and fixed my error. What a difference those cupboards made to my life. No, it did not look like the hundred thousand refits that one sees advertised but I was happy to have more storage space and nice clean modern units in my little old house.

These were the biggest jobs that Jonathan did in Barry Street but he did lots of other small ones. Putting up shelves, replacing the roof sheeting on the back courtyard, mending a ceiling fan, painting ceilings, trying to mend an old air-conditioner (but it was all rusted inside and beyond repair) fitting washers and dozens of other general maintenance jobs. Living in that house really was a full-time job for Jonathan. But we were happy to live there. It was spacious with large rooms and high ceilings, a garage that could be used as a workshop for Jonathan, a nice sized garden and really lovely neighbours around us. We were sad when we learnt it was going to be sold.

 

 91.Moving Again!

Having moved house so many times one would have thought that it would have got easier but I did not find that. In fact, I think this was the hardest move I have ever done. Which is strange as I have moved before when I was heavily pregnant, of course that was a very long time ago. I have moved with two small children, two dogs and a parrot. I have moved from one town to another and even one country to another.  I have moved in the sunshine and the rain. But this move which was less than 6 kilometers away, with professional removalist and two grown sons to assist us was the hardest I have ever done. Obviously, age had something to do with it.

 

Getting rid of things that we could not take with us to the new house was a bit of a headache. Most of the items I advertised for free on the internet and I really got messed around. People would phone about them and say that they wanted them but then never turn up to collect. I wonder why people do this. I can understand that if I was being pushy and trying to get them to agree to pay high prices for items they did not want, but these were all items going for free on the internet. If they did not want them, why did they answer my advert in the first place.

 

Jonathan had an even bigger problem with the things in his workshop. My husband is a bit of a hoarder. He would call it a collector of course, but he hates to throw anything away that might come in handy some time in the future. He unloaded quite a lot of his tools and things on Jace and Dom but they have their own Junk, (sorry I am told it is all very valuable stuff) and there was only just so much they could take. Fortunately, the house next door to us was sold at about the same time and the new owners there were doing renovations with a view to renting out the house. The new owner’s father had a farm and was happy to take most of the timber and steel that Jonathan was trying to get rid. Also, Darren, our new landlord, told us that as the house was going to be demolished, we could just leave everything that we could not get rid of there and the demolishing company would be responsible for getting rid of it. But everything had to be sorted and packed.

 

Just a little aside. Our house as I have said before was in Barry Street but we had a back lane which was called Tim’s Lane. When the new owners of the house next door were working on their renovations, we got talking to them and the young man told us his name was Tim. A few days later his father came to help with some of the work and we got chatting to him too. I laughingly said “did your son Tim buy this house because the back lane was named after him. The gentleman laughed and said “we had been amused that the road at the front of the house was Barry Street as my name is Barry but when we found out that the back lane was called Tim we really felt that it was a sign for us to buy it”. How’s that for coincidence?

 

I don’t suppose that the actual move went too badly it was just the preparations and the settling in that were so worrisome. Both Jace and Dom agreed to come and assist on moving day. I knew that I could manage to move the computer and the internet equipment but I also knew it would take me a week or two but I was sure that Jace would do it in no time at all. The computers were no problem but when it came to the internet and our land line phone he struggled. It was all something to do with the service provider, I’m not sure what but I know that he did not have it working when he went home that evening. He came back the next day to sort it out.  Eventually he just gave up and advised me to change my service provider. He did a bit of an online search and told me which one he recommended. They were excellent and had the problem sorted and the phone working within half and hour. We needed a new modem for the internet but they arranged that and we were soon back on line with our internet too.

 

Then it came to the electricity account. I had moved my account from Barry Street to Rhoden Drive and so was very surprised and upset to get two accounts. One for Barry Street and one for Rhoden Drive. It turned out that I had only opened and account at Rhoden Drive and not actually closed the Barry Street account. So they wanted to charge me the daily service rate for the whole period. I was very cross with them and told them so. Surely when one moves house it is unusual to want to keep the power on in the old house but they did not see it that way. Then they said that they would go and read the meter there but came back to me and said that they could not gain access to the meter. I told them that there was no way that they could not get access. There was no fence or gate, there was no big vicious dog and that they really were just not trying. We happened to be passing by the house a couple of days after and went and had a look. No wonder they could not access the meter, not only had the meter gone so had the house. It was completely raised. But in the end the electricity company took my word for it that we had actually moved out on the day I said we had and adjusted the Barry Street account accordingly but I really had to get very angry with them to get them to see sense.

 

I began to think that we had moved into an electronic black hole. As my computer started playing up and then it was the DVD player and the bedside clock. Also my sewing machine and my mobile phone have been giving me trouble. My sewing machine would no long do zig-zag. I’m not sure if it has lost it’s Zig or it’s Zag but one of them has gone. The repair gentleman says that it would need a new part but as the machine is so old parts are not available any more so Its back to straight sewing for me. I don’t think for the amount I use it that it is worth buying another one but we will see.

 

To add to the electronic black hole my mobile phone is beginning to feel it’s age too. The battery is not holding a charge for very long and it sometimes just dies on me. I know I must do something about it but I don’t feel like coping with it just now.

90. Back Again 

Some time last week I was thinking about my Blog. I have not thought much about it in the last couple of years but I thought of the way I started it all originally. I called my first posting “So many addresses” and I listed the many places I had lived in. There were 16 in that first list but further down the line I had to add another one as we moved once again. But still later we moved once again. Then this week two people have mentioned my Blog so I feel prompted to add another episode. In the article number 75 you can read, if you are in anyway interested, about our move from Spoon Bay Road to Barry Street in Bateau Bay. We learnt to love that old house and were very happy there, but at the end of June 2020 we were informed by the letting agent that the owners had put the house up for sale. It was quite a shock for us, we had lived there happily for almost 9 years and did not think that the owners had any thoughts of selling. Lots of people said that maybe the house would be bought by other investors and that the new owners would like us to stay on as tenants. I did not hold out much hope of that as we could see from the market trends our house would fetch a good price. It was on a nice large, level site, close to shops, school, the doctor’s surgery, the beach, Crackneck view site and walking trail. We were pretty sure that when someone bought it, they would want to demolish the old house and build themselves their dream home. About October of 2020 the house was sold and the new owner, Darren, came to see us. He confirmed that he intended demolishing and rebuilding but that it would not be until the new year, so we were not to worry that we were going to be put out on the street. He promised us that he would not just turf us out and that as he and his wife still hadn’t decided what kind of house they wanted to build, let alone had the plans drawn up and submitted to council, so he said we were not to feel pressured. That was very kind of him of course but we knew that we needed to start looking for a new home as rental properties were pretty scarce. But it was good to know that we could relax a little and not have to take the first property that came our way just out of desperation. We looked a number of places but due to the Coronavirus lockdowns viewing was not easy. All the agents knew that there was a scarcity of reasonably prices homes available and did not try to make things any easier. Before we could view a property, we had to fill in an online application. They asked us for all sorts of information about ourselves and some of the agents even wanted us to give them a copy of our bank statement. This was before we had even seen the property not when we were actually applying for it. The properties had to be viewed wearing masks, social distancing, sanitizing one’s hands, and doing an electronic check in. Not a very easy time in our lives but thankfully Darren was not pressurizing us. He would pop in to visit now and again so we knew that he was progressing with his plans and we did need to find our selves somewhere to live. I scanned the internet every day for new houses on the market and viewed many that might be suitable. In a lot of cases, they had actually been taken before they appeared on the websites. Then one evening I saw that the agent that we had rented our Barry Street house though was advertising a small villa that might suit us. I got on the phone early in the morning and as we had been dealing with them for about 9 years, they knew us and did not need to go through all the rigmarole that we had been subjected to by the other agents. We arranged to see the house the following day and were accepted promptly and without any great fuss. We arranged to take occupation on 8th March and then the fun began. But I will tell you more about that in the next posting. 

89. Officially Old

Well it has officially arrived, OLD AGE. In New South Wales once one arrives at ones 75^th birthday everyone seems bent on reminding you that you are old. No longer elderly, or mature, or getting on but well and truly there.

I reached that mile-stone this month and now I have to have an annual medical check-up from my doctor and he has to sign a form  to give to the road traffic authorities to  certify that I am physically fit enough to drive. Also all doctor’s practices are required to make sure that every patient on their register over 75 is seen at least once a year by the doctor or at least by a nurse, preferably in their own homes.

When I went to the doctor last week for my medical for my driving licence my doctor noted that my birthday was on the 16^th and that Jonathan had an appointment for a home visit from the nurse on the 15^th.  He thought that it might be easier all round if the nurse made it a double appointment so she could test Jonathan and me on the same day. He said he would get in touch with the nurse and arrange it.

A couple of days later I got a phone call from the nurse. She said that it would suit her to do the two tests together but as Jonathan’s appointment was on the 15^th and I would not be turning 75 until 16^th I was not eligible for the free testing so did I mind if we changed the date of Jonathan’s appointment. I told her that neither of us was in a great hurry so whenever it suited her would be fine with us. It is now arranged for Feb 14^th.

When my son Jace phoned a  little later I was telling him about how silly I thought it was and he agreed. He went off a bit about the stupidity of red tape and wondered why she could not have done the test on the 15^th and just dated it 16^th but I told him that that would obviously confuse the issue as having seen these tests being done before I knew that it was possible that one of the questions would be “What day is it” and then would the answer have been right or wrong? Also I told him that one of the questions often asked was “Who is the Prime Minister of the country?” Well as one is never sure one day from the next who is the leader of our country the answer given on the 15^th could be right then but be wrong on the 16^th. Jace was surprised that they could even ask old people who the Prime Minister was, he felt that that was rather an unfair question we have had so many changes recently.

When I told my sister in the UK that I would now require a medical certificate to be able to hold my licence and once I turn 85 would have to do an actual driving test she said that that was not the way things were done there. She informed me that in the UK once one gets to 70 you have to write to the road traffic authority stating that you are physically fit to drive. While I am not too pleased to have to get a medical every year from now on and am certainly not looking forward to an actual driving test in 10 years I do think our system is safer that theirs. After all I have yet to meet a 75 year old man, or woman either come to think of it, who would admit that he was no longer fit to drive. No one likes to lose their independence and one can’t help wondering if a certain 97 year old who was involved this week in an accident while leaving his home should still be allowed behind the wheel. What a good thing that no one was seriously hurt.

88.Scrabble

88. Scrabble

Do you like to play Scrabble? I don’t like it I love it. I started playing many years ago when we lived in what was then Rhodesia. There were sanctions on the country at the time and our board and tiles were locally and very poorly made. The tiles were little blocks of stained wood with the letters printed on them. But they were of different thickness and we would joke that we could tell which letter one was getting out of the bag by the thickness of the tile. The letters would wear away a bit and had to be restored with a black marking pen. I think we had bought the set as a Christmas present for my mother when she came to visit one year. She refused to take it home with her saying that she had no one to play with at home so she would leave with us so we could play together every time she visited.  Still we loved to play and got just as much fun out of it as we would have got with a proper set.

We would often get together with friends in the evening for a game and had great fun. My husband Jonathan is a great tease. He would look at his letters, point his finger at the exposed triple and say “How do you spell QUIZZICALLY”? or some other outrageous word. The gullible amongst us would react in horror without even thinking that it was an impossibility. We had a dictionary on the table and any queries were checked and we would not allow anything that was not in that dictionary, but we did not make anyone miss their turn or loose points.  We were even allowed to look up the correct spelling of a word in the dictionary; we just drew the line at trawling through the dictionary to look for words. As you can see we played for fun and there was much laughter and teasing on our Scrabble nights. Later on our dear friends Roy and Maureen bought us a proper set with a nicely printed board and evenly sized plastic tiles which we have still and Jonathan and I play fairly often.

Every time that my mother came to visit us we would have endless games. We played just the two of us, or with the family, or with visiting friends. We played at home or in the holiday chalet, in the game park or at the lake. My mother who was an avid reader and had a very good vocabulary became very good at the game and when she went home she would be the Scrabble champion or the group that she usually played with. And later when she went into a nursing home I believe she was still beating most of the other ladies right up until she was in her nineties.

Nowadays although we still play with our board and tiles I also play on line. I play with my sister in the UK, my cousin in Cape Town and another friend here in Australia. Obviously with different time zones some games can go on for ages but that is fine as no one is able to knock the board off the table or peep to see what letters you are holding on your rack.

Playing more than one game at a time can be a bit frustrating when you have the Q in one of the games and are waiting for a U to put down a word and on the other game you have 2 Us and just can’t get rid of them. I can’t decide which is most upsetting to have a slot with OOOIIIA or to have a really lovely word, EQUINOX and nowhere to put it. Or is it worst to almost have a seven letter word, just one wrong letter and there is a place to put it if only that A was an E. Yes It is a fun game but it can be very frustrating.

I think the thing I like about it most is that it is not just a game of chance. Yes there is a large element of chance involved, you can’t do a lot if you get lousy letters but even with good letters you need to have a fairly good vocabulary to be a winner and also you have to know where and how to place your letters. Using the triple and double scores makes all the difference. It is really an all-round game and I justify the time I spend on it by saying that it is good exercise for my brain and so I am warding off the dementia. I think that whoever it was that designed the board was obviously a sadistic genius. So often you have word to put down and a place to put it but you know that if you play it there is a chance of your opponent getting a triple. If one uses the Double letter and then the Double word place just three away from triple word you try to put the largest scoring word on the Double letter so that you can make your score as high as possible but then that leaves your large scoring letter available for your opponent to use to make a word and score triple. So many times you have to decide if it is wiser to get as big a score as you can or wiser to try and stop the other player using your nice letters to increase his score.

When I was introduced to On Line Scrabble by my cousin in Cape Town I tried to get my sister Adele in the UK to play too but she took quite a bit of persuading. I can’t remember why. After all she is a very good speller and it should have been just the game for her.  Eventually I did manage to get her to try it and she became hooked. At first I beat her every time, goodness only knows how but then she got the bit between her teeth and went with it. Now she mostly beats me and one time she beat me for 14 games in a row - Oh the shame of it! I accused her of all sorts of cheating. Maybe she was bribing the computer to give her better letters than me (how does one bribe a computer?) or maybe she was making up words that did not really exist or she had a little voodoo kit and was sticking little pins into a doll that looked a lot like me. But I have now come to the conclusion that the way she cheats is by being smarter than me. That’s not really fair is it?

 I am not sure that these games are warding off my dementia, maybe making me a little bit crazier, but I enjoy them so I will continue to play, win or lose.