Some reflections on life

A big night after family day seems to have left me reflective

Alice’s ‘Saffie’ article in Womens Health and a passage from Christos Tsiolkas’ book The Slap are making me feel that I am as much the product of my fathers generation as I am of my daughters. Stop that sniggering Gabby and listen to me. I acknowledge you are qualified to judge my part of Alice’s generation but you know nothing of that part of me that shares with Cristos’ character Manolis when he reminisces about Australia in 1961 where there were no seat belts and he drove with a beer between his legs. Not so much a lawless time as a time of less law.

In a time when three long necks came with change from a dollar we would not drink from them the way your peers do, got you drunk too fast was the theory and at three for a dollar what’s the hurry. Now of course you can’t ignore the cost and there is a hurry. I well remember a pre green way of life when the car window was the forever open lid to the worlds biggest garbage can. When seat belts like crash helmets were the affectations of rev heads who put v-8’s into their Morris Minors or anything else with wheels. When drinking and driving were as acceptable in a phrase as eating and sleeping. It was in fact legally necessary on a Sunday to have travelled thirty miles to qualify for a drink which came without any health warning concerning the thirty mile return trip.

Is it any wonder that I was a bit recalcitrant when it came to these new laws and health warning de-facto laws? Think for a moment how you might feel when swimmers are fined or jailed for swimming when beaches are closed, It’ll happen. When to rent or purchase in certain areas will require the consensus of those already enjoying the privilege, It happens already. When all must wear clothing in shades of red, it could happen. Its hard to give up what you thought were freedoms when they become labelled as privileges and are rationed nepotistically.

Now for something completly different

All these years I’ve thought of them as villainous, sadistic fascists with no regard for any but their own and their master’s interest. Devoid of empathy in their barbaric pursuit of aggrandisement. Morally bankrupt and even worse than real estate agents. But no, as it turns out those slave drivers who facilitated the erection of the Egyptian pyramids were in fact the personal trainers of their day.

Take a walk through your local park in the early post dawn and there witness as I have these tireless descendants of the pharaoh’s foremen and peers to the Burmese Junta as they sacrifice their breakfast time to restore the self esteem of their lessors. One on one they may not be so effective as empathy rears its ugly head and they may feel obliged by their otherwise inactivity to join in their slave’s gyrations. Give them a group and witness the emergence of the boot camp sergeant, barking her orders whilst keeping a steel eye out for laggers who would get out of step.

Of course though times have changed, systems remained the same and to impose discipline it is necessary still to have the weapon of punishment. Whilst hang, draw and quartering, flogging and even a strap about the ankles are, unfortunately, now considered politically incorrect, the tongue is still mightier than either the pen or sword. Oh yes you’ll find these ‘trainers’, oddly named after their footwear, as lippy as the best drill sergeant.

Recently in Bicentennial Park I witnessed a trainer whose charges had obviously been so wicked in their slavish weight gain that he had them, two girls, running in line carrying bamboo poles threaded through two tyres. The awkwardness of this so called exercise involving keeping their arms bent to keep the tyres off the ground and dodging the tyres themselves which had a constant potential to interfere with their gait truly looked like torture. The trainer making the pace before them so as not to witness their struggles carried a length of rope which seemed to me a threat to coffle least they did not keep up.

An amazing sight though on reflection I guess the coaches of sports teams have indulged in these types of rituals in the privacy of their training track for years and the only difference here is that it has been brought out on parade before me and my fellow morning walkers.

R


Ever wary Gabby was a second too slow






Nothing serious

Something serious




Hugh cracking on


Post Family Day Rock and Roll Yee Haa!




The Spirit

in praise of amateurism

Dear All,

Thank you Chris, Sue, some criticism at last, almost like a real writer. Of course I appreciate and am flattered by your ‘laughed till I was sick’ comments Kell but anyone can see that my aim is to antagonise, to upset the status-quo or at the very least, dinner. Comments like ‘get off our blog and back under your rock’ such as I read in the Tele letters would thrill. Bob, Alice’s father in law and a real writer, the one who has had books pulped, that’s serious criticism, has a new book out in the shops right now in which he mentions me. Alice had already alerted me to this recognition and my name in the index in reference to mine being the better wedding speech. Now Bob’s a professional, wrote speeches for Bob Carr, writes them for Mike Wran and Nathan Reece, nobody’s going to say Bob’s speech was better than mine that would be like saying the suns shines. Kind folk at the wedding came up with the notion that mine was the better speech to flatter me and Bob immortalised the fiction in his book. Thank you Bob. You could have sounded more aggrieved, could have devoted more than just a half line, but you’re the professional and no one wants to see any more books pulped.

Bob’s just written another book too, a commission with a generous advance and a short sharp one month deadline. Alice was commissioned as a paid researcher and has in turn hired another researcher from her Uni, not the young girl she expected but a 27 year old bloke doing his masters. The deadline passed at the beginning of the month and the book is with the editor but research and updates continue like a Bunnings stock take. Alongside her full time sub editorial role for Women’s Health this has made her a very busy girl with no time for play. Bob is also very busy touring his new release on the radio talk shows here, in Canberra and now in Melbourne. Bob won’t fly so he has to travel by train except to Canberra because the train never showed up. No explanation or apology either from the department whose responsibility is with the party he has always backed and spruiked for. All sounds like hard work doesn’t it. Makes me content with my amateur standing as a writer who bothers only you and thus leaves plenty of time for my first love; reading.

Chris seems to agree with me as he ‘breathes a sigh of relief’ at receiving no call back from his job interview. Even taking the minimalist view to home making and covering one wall with plasma screen there should be plenty to do personalising his new estate to occupy his time. Especially so if he and Sue intend to make a habit of wintering in the tropics. The only reason to go back to work at our age is the desire or need for funds. Our professions unlike those of youngsters at the other end of their working cycle are already established and nothing we now do is likely to change the success or failure we feel in relation to that. I remember writing something different in the box marked ‘profession’ on every visa application and immigration entry form I ever filled out, partly to test the system but mostly because I had never been properly labelled. No I wouldn’t do that today though I’m so out of touch. Jack assures me I don’t need visas in advance for Thailand, England and all the other places we’ll go which seems astonishing and although I have great faith in Jack I still seek further assurances.

That’s all for now, thanks for your attention, remember to stay alarmed not alert and sleep well.

R

Nomads are Nesting

Look who we found in a caravan magazine!

I realised today that we haven’t blogged since Tasmania and there has been a lot happening since then. Whenever I think about blogging I read a new entry by Robert and find myself speechless! But anyway …….

Following nearly three years of nomadic life we have decided to establish a base camp again. After traveling around most of Australia and often being asked by people what is our favorite part of the country, I usually replied the far north coast of NSW including the hinterland. However as much as I could see myself enjoying living in the area it is too far from Sydney and our families there, with apologies to Christine, Denis and family on the Gold Coast. Our time spent in Sydney in recent years and in other capital cities made us realise that we preferred life in a country town to the city life, I think I always have. We decided we did not want to be too far from Sydney and after looking at the Central and South Coasts, Blue Mountains and Southern Highlands we found that Goulburn offered the best choice of housing options in our price range and we new the town and district well and have good friends there.

So before going to Tasmania we put the Dulwich Hill on the market and were surprised to have two interested buyers after the first weekend’s open house. We negotiated a deal with one of these and the sale will settle on Friday May 15th. As a result, in Tasmania, we were regularly on the internet on the real estate sites and wished we were there to see some of the places on offer. When we returned to Goulburn we looked at a few houses, we were thinking about an older “character” house in the central part of town, but ended up making an offer on the house we have purchased which is built in 1975 and is 2klm from the main street. As you might imagine there were some differences in Sue and my requirements in a new home and you know who won. But we are both very happy with the style of the house and the neighborhood. The house has a nice outlook over the Cookbundoon Ranges, has a good northerly exposure to the living areas and while the kitchen and bathrooms are original they are very usable until we give them a makeover or just get used to them? It has a driveway on both sides with a garage on one side and a big caravan friendly carport on the other. The house has three bedrooms and a study so plenty of room for visitors. I really enjoy to be able to see hills and trees from home and to be only minutes away from the landscape of the Australian countryside. We take ownership on May 21st so will move in shortly after that.

However we won’t be there for long as we are planning to spend July & August at Mission Beach to avoid the winter.

As we had made the decision to call Goulburn home Sue decide to have a look at the positions vacant in the local paper for any casual jobs and applied for a couple. She then spotted one that was calling for the type of experience I had so “encouraged” me to apply. Once we had finalized the details of our purchase we decided to do some more travelling in the five weeks to settlement and headed towards the Murray River via Young and Wagga. Unfortunately at Wagga I had a call from the job I had applied for to come for an interview so back to Goulburn, buy a pair of trousers and front up. The good news is I have not heard anything since so can now breath a sigh of relief. We spent a few days in a Goulburn Caravan Park which is pretty basic so decided to head down to Batemans Bay where it is warmer and more caravan friendly.

Of course the other complication during our time in Goulburn was that Olly decided to rupture the cruciate ligament in his hind leg so we took him to a vet and he ended up having surgery on it last Tuesday. We need to keep him reasonably immobile in a confined space for two weeks, which a caravan is ideal for. He seems to be happy enough laying around dreaming about the cat that got away.

Of course the other great news, that I am sure you all know about, is the engagement of Kelly and Mart, we are so happy and excited for them.

Well we will be in Sydney next weekend and hope to see some of you then and look forward to being around for more of the family days that we have missed over the last three years. We will only be two hours drive away so available for any events and occasions. However, I am sure the van won’t go rusty as we plan to do regular shorter trips as the urge takes us.

Love to All, Sue Chris & Olly.



Court in Session in Young.


One for Luke.


Morris Dancers at Lambing Flat Festival in Young


Olly rsting after his op.

Wedding in the Sussex countryside

Hi everyone

Sorry it's been ages since I've blogged! I've been super busy in London and can't believe it's been three years since I arrived (on 1 May). Time flies when you're having fun.

May is the best month in the UK cause we have two publish holidays! Yesterday was the first one so we had a lovely long weekend - and the sun actually came out!

Mart and I went down to Sussex (the county directly south of London) for one of Mart's school friends' wedding. It was a beautiful day and the wedding was in the most beautiful grounds! Very green and typically English. The wedding was a hoot with lots of champagne, eating and dancing - quite similar to an Aussie wedding.

We stayed down in Sussex for the whole weekend and I got to see the village that Mart grew up in - Wisborough Green. It's a cute little village - very lush and green. It's got a couple of small shops, a post office and 4 pubs. I saw the house that Mart grew up in - it was built in the 1400s!

We also went to Arundell, an old historical market town, nearby to check out the castle which was built in 1067. It was a very relaxing weekend and so nice to be out in the country. It was especially lovely to see where Mart used to live - I didn't realise he was such a country bumkin!

Hope you enjoy the pics...

Love Kel xx

Me and Mart at the wedding


Playing chess on the grounds between the wedding ceremony and the reception


The Sussex countryside, near Arundell

House to home

After a late night I was woken just after seven this morning to the sound of someone whipper snipping the hair off my ears. I Ignored it as long as possible and was setting about worldly, coffee and paper things, about seven thirty when the phone rang and the Wiseberry Handyman announced that he was, unlike Elvis, in the building. Yes I remembered the appointment to repair the sash cord and he would be welcome subject to some ablutions (the sash cord was in the toilet). His visit over relatively painlessly I continued to read and relax till nine when the plumber called. A week ago we were inspected by the old crone landlord with her sweaty grandson/ heir I suspect and the punk boy agent. In all of the one hundred and one leases I have signed there was a clause which gave the landlord or agent the right to inspect with due notice etc. For the first hundred no such inspection incurred though the last agent would send letters announcing inspections that never occurred. Phantom inspections for the sake of the filing only I guess. Now three more bodies along with me in my little pad is a situation where people need to be offered seats and refreshments but that wasn’t going to happen so I kept my seat and gave them carte blanche to roam and peer. “Were there any faults that needed repair” I was asked. “Well the spout at the kitchen sink sprays most of its water from the base rather than its mouth” I said omitting to say that I had reported this to the punk agent upon moving in and before and after plumbers came to replace the hot water service. Immediately I regretted this rash exclamination as I recalled how when I warned of its’ (the hot water service) immanent demise it was replaced and my rent raised by the cost of the repair per year for perpetuity. So it was the keen eyed crone or her shorthand taking grandson who noted the sash cord and prompted the plumber to conduct a comprehensive service of all washers and fittings and at her own expense one hopes.

All this tradie activity set me thinking about Chris and Sue’s new four bedroom home in Goulburn with the large open plan living area and all those walls and all of those spaces that need to be filled






I know it’s not my responsibility but if I were you I’d be throwing a big house warming where guests could bring their unwanted objects du art and brick a brac, sort of a ‘throw out’ party. There used to be lots of good stuff around my way till the GFC struck. There’s still stuff but now it’s more like genuine rubbish that Olly would enjoy.
You should invite these wild Guys, In fact get them to handle the promotion, skilled pamphlet technicians indeed.

Mmmm tasty

Too soon to be thinking of little children of course

This curious TV always wondered what the view would be like from the other side.

Painting and Decorating are always a concern in a home of this scale.
These do a good clean professional job but you need to keep a spare key for the cherry picker as they are always leaving theirs in the other trousers with the wash.

These guys are messy but they get great coverage and work extremely cheap.



My mate Walter may be persuaded to decorate your window reveals. It’ll send resale value through the roof.


Oh by the way Kell, I noticed this with your name all over it.

As for myself, my requirements are simpler so should any of you notice one of these on a throughout or cheap on e-bay please let me know.