It’s taking me a while to get used to the ‘different ways’ of the new GP’s practice I moved to a little while ago.  Receiving a text reminding me to make an appointment for a flu jab came as a surprise;  I’d never experienced reminders before, had always been left to my own devices where things like that were concerned.  It made me wonder if this was the way of the future??

During one of my initial appointments earlier this year I mentioned that Mr Insomnia had been visiting again and that age old problem I have of sometimes feeling very tired, weary and very cranky had returned.

‘Before we do any blood tests to see if there are any underlying problems tell me about your sleep patterns’ my lovely new Dr asked.  ‘I wake at all hours of the night and find it hard to go back to sleep.’  ‘Maybe you need a sleep study’ she said, and asked if I kept noting the time on the clock.  Because that will make sleeplessness seem worse than it is.  

So then we talked about various methods to ‘supposedly’ ensure a good nights sleep.  You know, slowing down earlier in the evening, warm drink, warm bath/shower, close off all electronic stuff.  Things we’re all familiar with.  She didn’t quite go as far as this though  – 

but did ask if I slept with an animal.  Then there were tears as I told her, no, our last one Kiera had been gone for nearly a year.  ‘You know some of us get stress relief from close contact with pets, cats especially’ – tell me something I don’t know I laughingly told her.

As she was printing off the pathology request form I did tell her about the sleeping habits of the one who shares my bed 

Oh, I don’t have an answer for that problem apart from make sure your spare bed is ready for when his snoring wakes you or for you to ask ‘him’ get a sleep study done 🙂

Words for Wednesday is a weekly meme using words and/or pictures as prompts. Bloggers are encouraged to make what they can from them. Messimimi is hosting this month – April.

Here’s what I made from her suggested words.

Money makes the world go around….

Tommy had gone down the paddock with his dad and had come back yelling about trees being chock a block with fruit. She thought (guiltily) how lucky they were…..unlike some on neighbouring properties….the dry conditions hadn’t affected them too much……..and it was a pleasure to walk through their orchard abounding in fruit filled trees.

So the decision was made.  Quince jelly it was to be!

‘Don’t make it too sloppy Mum – I like it to spread not pour!’

‘Come on Tom, time for a quick wash. Uncle Billy will be here soon honking the horn on his new truck; he’s going to give you a lift to school. Dad is getting the driveway graded today so it won’t be such a bouncy ride down to the bus stop from now on’

‘Oh and don’t forget to clean your teeth as well. Be careful when you squeeze that new tube of toothpaste, I don’t want to find it all over the sink. And don’t forget to turn the tap off, the water truck won’t be able to deliver until the driveway is finished.’

She knew she was sounding like a nagging mum but she had to remind them both, the handsome debonair man she married as well as her loveable son that money didn’t grow on trees and they couldn’t fritter away every cent they had in the bank.

Watching them leave she wondered how her grandparents had coped when Pa went blind.  Family lore had it he was so depressed after losing his sight he was unable to play his priceless violin, the instrument he loved and treasured, the one brought with him when they arrived as refugees all those many years ago; the one that was going to auction the next week. With luck, she thought, the proceeds would be enough to pay for the driveway…… but in the meantime she had to get on with the quince jelly.

Thanking her Gt Grandparents for planting the trees….. and Hoping money ‘did grow on them’ – she contemplated the sales she hoped to make at Farmers Market in a couple of weeks time.

Money that would go into the bank……. to help pay for the delivery of fresh household tank water!

This ‘moving things on’ lark is still taking up some of my time.  Yesterday I decided it was best to load up the car before I broke my neck trying to manoeuvre around the bags of things in the hallway and pass all those unneeded items on to the lovely helpers in the nearby Op Shops. Op – opportunity…..aka elsewhere as Charity Shops – Thrift Shops

Sadly here in my area little ‘you never know what you’ll find’ ones are a thing of the past – a lot of the big charities have moved into barn like structures and have raised their prices way above what anyone would reasonably pay for something not brand new.  If the amount of stock they have available is anything to go by they don’t seem to have problems with donations.

Well, donations that they actually want that is.

The other week, we ……The Golfer and I…..went out into the garage to sort through the luggage.  All packed in black garbage bags and neatly stacked in a old cabinet. There were various suitcases of all shapes and sizes, travel bags, cabin bags, back packs and The Golfer’s pièce de résistance….something he used regularly and has held on to for years.  His ‘very expensive at the time’ garment bag.  Similar to this one

Do you remember the years of the two bag allowance for the hold plus carry on and various other personal bits and pieces at no extra cost……..now a thing of the past in economy on most airlines.  Years ago we used to do round the world flights visiting rellies in Asia, U.K  and Canada, take in an Air Force reunion for The Golfer necessitating a suit and accessories,  and then after being nice and polite with family and others treat ourselves to a ‘just the two of us’ holiday for the last lap.  Different climates as well as different situations needed different clothing!   So put to use for for many business trips as well as a second bag on those long haul holidays that garment bag served him well.

‘One checked bag only unless you pay for more’ put an end to the amount of clothes we took – cases on four wheels are easier for (ahem) us older ones; on the ocassion he does need a suit he’s developed an easy crease proof way of packing it so the much loved sturdy ‘carry my wardrobe over my shoulder’ bag was relinquished and put on the op shop pile.

Which would have been good……if they had taken it!

Back entrance of these big ‘Family Stores’ is usually where donations go – the person receiving at big place #1 said we don’t take luggage of any sort……….#2 said as it wasn’t on wheels they didn’t want it (“we get enough old fashioned ‘crap’ (his words!) without taking any more”)…..#3 politely said they might have a problem selling it so they’d rather not accept it!  In other words….bin it!

There was no way That was going to happen so I went to a smaller place in a closer to the city suburb, where a very nice volunteer smiled when she saw it, remarked on its good condition and said ‘I had a customer ask about this very same item only the other day.  He’s a regular so I’ll give him a ring and see if he’s still interested”

Lol I didn’t think the old adage of ‘it’s not what you know but who you know’ applied in the world of op shop shopping where it’s usually ‘first in best dressed’ but obviously in some cases it does.  And if you’re lucky they might even buy it 😊

A few funnies to describe my week 😊

Fun Friday – the day we forget the worries of the week 😊😊

Well maybe that should be……wear different shoes next time:)

Last weekend was spectacular – Friday night we had a storm to end all storms.

https://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/victoria/thunderstorms-hail-to-lash-parts-of-melbourne/news-story/e1f0a98d3e591e30d7b46aab4613569b

Residents in Melbourne’s east are clearing up following a night of storms that delivered heavy rain and large hail to parts of Melbourne east.
A severe thunderstorm warning was issued for the outer east and a flash flooding warning was in place for flash flooding suburbs including Mooroolbark, Chirnside Park, Croydon, Croydon North and Wonga Park

More strong winds and rain on Saturday meant I was looking for a nice quiet Sunday; so it was with a ‘hopeful nature’ I got on the train to go to the city with The Golfer.  The Melbourne Food and Wine Festival was on and he wanted to walk Southbank browsing the Food Vans, the pop up restaurants along with the wine tasting booths.

What he hadn’t mentioned was:-

• He also wanted to go back to Fed Square to look at another exhibition….. ‘Screen Worlds‘  in the Australian Centre for the Moving Image aka ACMI.
• Then make our way up to the Club in Bourke Street for a bite to eat,
• Then before coming home nip into the old DFO, now given the posh name of Spencer Outlet Centre , for a ‘quick’ look at a place in there.  

So when what I thought was going to be a pleasant saunter from Flinders Street Station, across the river and then a wander along the riverbank turns into a 5km hike in city streets I became a tad tetchy 🙂

• We didn’t buy any take away food…..nothing really appealed
• It was an interesting exhibition but no place to sit down unless you went back out into the foyer
• There was a meaningful discussion as we walked up to Bourke Street about using the tram up to the club….yes, up the street literally…we gave up trying as each one that arrived was crammed full.
  
• Later as we walked aimlessly round a huge shopping centre (I really didn’t want to be in) I was shocked to hear ‘his words‘ (or words similar to ones he uses when shopping with me ) coming out of my mouth as he picked up various pieces of clothing …..”Do you need that? …..Will you wear that? …..Don’t you have something like that at home?

Thankfully our train home could be be picked up right there at Spencer Street (now known as as Southern Cross…but I don’t know anyone who calls it that.
My feet were sore and all I could think of was getting home and putting them up

All’s well now, we are talking again- but next time it will be blow the fashionable summer sandal look and on with the runners!!

A very dear friend of mine was talking to me about her youngest child – now a grown man in his very early 50s – it seems he tells her she should ‘let go’.  She says that out of all her children he is the only one who does so. Don’t know why, she said, could possibly be something to do with his wife;  a person with few personal possessions who has fashioned their home in a minimalist style.  Because it certainly wasn’t his style when he was a young man living at home 😊

‘Get rid of it, it’s only taking up space, when are you going to use it again’.

That seems to be today’s catch cry.

And like many others over these past few years, I’ve done just that.  Moved on, passed on, given away, rehomed, knowing someone else will be able to make use of all the crockery and cooking stuff that’s no longer used – just the way we did when we were younger and short of cash to buy brand spanking new.

So what do you do when these emerge from the back of the cupboard?  Four small child sized plastic beakers with another styled as a lid to hold them together.  One set slightly larger than the other.

I looked at them on the countertop, reliving memories of the day the red ones were bought (way back in the 1970s) in a tourist shop at Glenrowan – Ned Kelly country – over 225kms/140 miles up the road from here.

It’s quite funny in that I know where they were bought – I can see myself walking into the shop,   I know why they were bought – squabbles over sharing a bottle of soft drink. ‘He/she had more swallows than me’   But I can’t for the life of me remember why we were so far from home that day !

Unlike these days when each child has their allocated water bottle,(well before water in bottles was sold at the supermarket) we’d buy a large bottle of whatever they chose…Fanta or Lemon Squash or even Coke……to share between us …..which meant those little red beakers certainly earned their keep.  Everyone knew exactly how much pop each of them was given😊

And of course as they grew in age and size…. I bought the slightly larger ones

My friend asked if they’d ever been used again.  Actually yes I said,  quite regularly a while ago by visiting grandchildren – small children being allowed a forbidden treat of fizzy drinks at Grandma’s (with parents permission – wouldn’t have done iit otherwise 😀

So here it is Monday morning again and I’m sitting with my coffee thinking about or maybe that should be wondering when it will be time.

Time to let go, that is.

You know, those little beakers really don’t take up much space, and even though they appear to be empty are actually filled with memories, and besides,  all those grandchildren are now old enough to have their own little ones so you never know when they might come in handy again 😎

Do you have things tucked away waiting?
Waiting for you to decide when the time is right?

I’ve been pottering around with this genealogy caper for several years now and the names and terms for relationships still confuse me 😊

Seeing the generations on a pedigree chart is fine, you add your name and then for your direct lines you identify your Mum and Dad and Grandparents and then as you get to know more names and dates you can add Greats plus…..if you’re really lucky ….Great Greats or 2 x Gt as they are sometimes referred to.

Then comes the tricky bit – the sideways moves aka the extended family.  Aunts Uncles Cousins…..they all get recorded elsewhere. In exercise books, scraps of paper, various family charts or maybe online genealogy sites.

Trying to place who relates to whom has always been a challenge to me  I know I’m not the brightest spark but honestly listening to / reading posts online where these family discussions take place leaves me feeling dim sometimes. There are loads of graphs and charts out there that explain these relationships but after a while all the little boxes seem to merge into one.  Until I found this one.

You and your cousin share grandparents, you and your 2nd cousin (that is a grandchild of a Gt aunt/uncle) share Gt grandparents AND you and your 3rd cousin ( a Gt grandchild of a Gt Gt aunt or uncle ….who is a brother or sister of one of your Gt grandparents) share GtGt grandparents.  Are you with me still??

Then there is Removed (see Ancestry ‘Understanding Kinship Terms’)

In cousin relationships, the term removed indicates the separation of a generation. My first cousin is of the same generation as I am, so my first cousin once removed would be either my parent’s first cousin or my first cousin’s child. Since twice removed indicates a difference of two generations, my first cousin twice removed would be either my grandparent’s first cousin or the grandchild of my first cousin (as I am two generations younger than my grandparent’s first cousin and two generations older than my first cousin’s grandchild).

The online companies who test DNA samples provide you with matches to other clients  registered with them…..up to 4th cousins and further.  Trying to find the MRCA aka most recent common ancestor  or ‘who you both are actually related to’ can be fun.  If you both have enough information to share.  Because you need to be able to go back 5/6 generations.

See I told you it was FUN 😊

The new season can definitely be felt now…..the harsh heat of summer has gone and the nights are very much cooler.  Even to the point of putting on pjs, dressing gown and knitted slippers well before ‘retiring time’.

Different seasons means different vegetables

And guess what’s on the menu for tonight?  Yes, Brussel Sprouts! https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brussels_sprout

The sprout farm at Coldstream is picking !

It’s opened its sales to the public again, these lovely freshly picked little green bundles of joy are there on the road side stall by the farm gate all nicely packed ready to come home – and if the stall is bare you just ring the bell and one of the pickers comes down with some more.

I’m not enthralled by the plastic packaging, it’s a fairly slim strong bag which fits the purpose.   Trouble is trying to contain those lumpy sprouts in soft plastic doesn’t work too well when they are sold a kilo a time.  Plus these aren’t graded, unlike those that make their way from the farm to other places …..sold to national supermarket chains …..so it’ll be a mix of sizes.  Which keeps the cost (to us) down   There are times when after all the mark ups, sprouts aren’t the cheapest veg on the shelf, they do  drop in price as more arrive.  These that The Golfer picks up on his way to/from his 2nd home (oops…golf course) are a standard $5 a kilo all the time

So you win some – lose some as far as price is concerned

BUT

Straight from the paddock to the plate….that’s my idea of freshness.  And that’s what counts for me.

WordPress  blog….

Is anyone else having problems with comments going straight into the spam folder?

These are comments from ‘known’ bloggers who have commented before – not new ones that must be approved.

Most annoying.

And just for the fun of it there has been another change in my life this year.
Another social one that is.

With pleasure being the name of the game I’ve upped stumps and joined another choir.

The one I joined last year – the one I settled into so easily and throughly enjoyed singing with – moved house.  To another suburb   One much further from home.  They raised the annual membership fee plus the weekly fee which when combined with longer train travel there and back was going to make a big dent in my day as well as my small personal monthly allowance so I looked around for another option.

And I found one really close to home – a short 10 minute drive in fact!

It’s not quite as organised as some I’ve sung with (meaning the conductor may not have as many qualifications as some of the others) yet for a group of 30 retirees the quality of singing is just as good.

We have a gig coming up at the end of this month that is going to be lots of FUN

Performing at the Highland Games and Celtic Festival out here in the eastern suburbs.  How good is that!

Since our first rehearsal at the end of January it’s been Popular Scottish songs/tunes all the way.  Well mostly Scottish; Men of Harlech The Ash Grove  and Danny Boy may be heard – to give a nod to a couple of other Celtic nations 😊

Last week during rehearsal we were asked what songs we sang as youngsters on bus trips.  With no idea what was wanted suggestions included……

• If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands
• The wheels on the bus go round and round
• 10 green bottles hanging on the wall
• She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes
• Oh the grand old Duke of York
• Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree
• Row Row Row your boat gently down the stream
• I’ll tell me Ma when I come home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone

No, we get told, They are too general, I want something this particular audience will relate to.  Then our lovely pianist (of Scottish descent) started to sing this.

Oh ye cannae shove yer Granny aff a bus

Ye cannae shove yer granny aff a bus,
Oh ye cannae shove yer granny aff a bus,
Ye cannae shove yer granny, for she’s yer mammy’s mammy,
Ye cannae shove yer granny aff a bus.

Ye can shove yer other granny aff a bus,
Ye can shove yer other granny aff a bus.
You can shove yer other granny, for she’s yer daddy’s mammy,
Ye can shove yer other granny aff a bus.

So I’m sitting here with my coffee on this sunny Monday morning wondering if it’s only in Scotland where children learn (and seemingly love) a song about pushing their Granny off a bus ?? 😎😎

What strange songs did you learn as a youngster?

As it always is with life there were more changes to come this year.

This one was not so much a change in exercise routine as finding a different way

Continuing with gym visits for strength – or maybe it should be to use all those lovely machines they have, – walking the streets for endurance plus the pleasure from being outside with all the associated views (which you can’t see from a treadmill) , pool visits because I love the feeling of weightlessness and the knowledge my aches and pains will benefit from exercise in the water

AND  

this year adding the Ballet for Adults being offered by a local organisation.  I love dance in any form and this class turned up at just the right time.

Having spent so much time recently reading/researching/discovering things past (History of my Family) I wondered if I could turn back the clock and mentally return to a younger Catherine who loved her weekly ballet class.

Last year’s foray into Return to Yoga (for seniors) didn’t do a thing for me.  I ached for days after each class….certainly didn’t have that feeling of peace I remember from classes in years gone by,  these left me with a feeling of frustration because even though the slim young contortionist  the young woman out the front seemingly had qualifications to teach ‘older adults/seniors’ she didn’t seem to understand that some of our bodies just didn’t do the things we may well have been able to do many years ago.  By the end of the term so many had found excuses not to attend, there was an awful lot of empty space on the floor which had been covered with mats during the first week!!

Now having admitted that,  I’ll also have to admit these Ballet classes are not all ‘wine and roses’ or ‘tea and biscuits’ as some of the attending ladies would prefer to say.

They also are hard work – unlike the Yoga classes where serious was the name of the game – these are hard work with lots of laughter thrown in.

Hard work trying to make your feet turn out like Charlie Chaplin, Pliés are not just bending your knees like squats,

Something simple like sliding your foot along the ground and then pointing the toe – Tendu -is likely to give you cramp (if you try too hard!)

And you know how good your balance is when you try to Relevé – rise onto your toes (or balls of our feet in our case 

Change can be good, some change can be not so good  – what I do  know is that 7 weeks into the first term, I along with 10 other ‘mature ladies’………….wearing last year’s yoga pants along with tshirts and carrying pink ballet slippers – not a leotard In sight 😊……………leave the local hall feeling better, walking taller, more at ease with ourselves and declaring Tuesday mornings have become our ‘favourite’ time of the week.

And there’s no way we’re going to change that!

The Australian Ballet – Ballet Class as a Beginner 

Glossary of Ballet terms

Change:-  Make or become different.

 Changes happening not for the sake of change but for ME 😊

Firstly not so much a change of healer as a looking at the benefits of a different practice

After several disappointing consultations over the past few months with my (older in years, single person practice) GP which ended in him stating he had no idea what the problem was, I took advantage of the fact that we are not tied to one Dr/GP (as is the case in other parts of the world) and made an appointment at a larger practice in our area – in my mind, just for another point of view.

Not an easy thing to do as I’m usually a ‘loyal’ person but I wanted an answer…..even if it was the same one.

After the initial niceties and explanations the first words the new Dr said were….well, let’s see what we can eliminate.  Words I’d not heard from my original GP.

The upshot was that this and the follow up consultation, followed by a diagnosis and treatment that worked/cured the problem, had me thinking long and hard and making the decision to change to the new practice.  One that has several Dr’s (of various ages, levels of experience, different medical interests) available, one that has xray and treatment rooms on the premises as well as allied health workers plus specialist rooms in an adjoining building.

A difficult decision to make – but after consulting the new GP a couple of times since then I’m confident I made the right one.

So after surviving our, and I’m not exaggerating, horrendous in many ways summer I’m finally in a better frame of mind and hoping to be back here on a regular basis.  Not sure what I’ll natter about but will most likely find a joke or two here or there.  Sadly no tidbits about Kiera – who I greatly miss.  No o/s trips on the horizon either – although winter in Bowen, Far North Queensland is being mooted.  We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, meaning when the really cold weather arrives!

Bye for now….Cathy