So then, how did the holiday go? Very nicely indeed, truth be told.
Apart that is from the usual sort of hiccups, hiccups which are only to be expected when I’m about. For instance, the day before we were due to leave we paid $70.00 to have the car cleaned inside and out, and very smart it looked too. “Car detailing” they call it over here. So, on the day we were due to leave I reversed out of the garage without shutting the driver’s door properly, and it swung open, caught the garage pillar, and it got well bent. Panic stations set in. We were on the verge of hiring a car to go down to the coast, when we found that by slamming the door hard, screwdrivering the window into place and then me getting into the car via the passenger door for the trip, we could use it as it was. (i.e. fucked.)
So we had a very clean and spic and span car, with a totally knobbed driver’s door then. The boys at the garage had a real hoot when I told them how I had buggered it up, and then they each booked a holiday in Fiji, at my expense.
But at least it was usable. We strapped the suitcases onto the roof with the very expensive roof-rack ties I had bought, and drove to pick up Reece, Bethy’s boyfriend, from Queanbeyan. By the time we got there all the strapping I had carefully done had come loose, and our suitcases were on the verge of ending up in the middle of the road. Reece’s grandfather, who is an ex-bus driver, tied them on, securely this time, with a length of old rope. This worked fine.
The drive down was unremarkable, apart from getting stuck behind an ancient old woman right at the top of Brown’s mountain, and therefore being stuck behind her for the next 20 kilometres. She drove at 50kph in the 70 kph zone, and got down to 15 kph in the 40 kph zones. As you can imagine I was a tad frustrated by this. But the usual solution to my driving frustrations proved efficacious, that is Lee-Anne kept hitting me until I shut up about it. Half way down Brown’s we passed the huge boulder which had landslip down onto the road recently, and had only just been cleared to give passage. Some wit had painted “For Sale” on it.
Outside the lovely village of Candelo, we narrowly missed a turtle crossing the road. Unfortunately Bethy had hit a turtle while having a driving lesson with her dad, just a few days before. As she said; “It’s very hard to drive for the next 50 kilometres when you’re crying your eyes out.” So of course I had to spin round and rescue it. We got back to find a turtle pizza all over the road, Bethy was upset all over again.
We eventually found the digs, thank god for GPS, and very nice they were too. We were within spitting distance of the sea, with only a dune between us and the surf, and with our own private path down to the water’s edge. Bethy and Reece grabbed the best bedroom, unsurprisingly, but, very surprisingly, they did actually emerge every so often blinking into the light.
Me and Lee-Anne took the downstairs bedroom so we could let the blind mutt out for his inevitable, and cataclysmic nightly pees, (it’s the diutetics he’s on you know.) More on him later. This worked reasonably well. So then, having settled into the digs, what did we do down there? A big bunch of sod all, mainly, with lots of dossing and chilling.
The daily routine was;
Walk the dogs on the beach, breakfast.
Read, or watch a DVD, walk the dogs on the beach, lunch.
Read books or watch DVDs, eat dinner.
Read books or watch a DVD, drink wine, walk the dogs on the beach, bed.
Perfect, what more could you want out of an Autumn break? I got through six books in five days, the others watched a large number of DVDs, (to be fair both Bethy and Reece did some college work while there.)
The weather wasn’t great, though it wasn’t bad either, I wish it had been one or the other. Bad weather would have been great. Funnily enough, there were only two occasions when I didn’t take my camera down to the beach on our multiple dogs walks, on the first I saw a sea eagle dive into the sea, on the second a pod of dolphins coasted by. I was fucking kicking myself for not having it with me, you’ll just have to take my word for it that these were truly beautiful sights. We had rainbow lorikeets as visitors most days. These beautiful, but cocky, little buggers will come and sit on your hand to eat if you offer them food.
The blind old dog loved being on the beach, mainly because there wasn’t much there he could bump into. He was also glad that it was too cold, and there were very strong tidal rips there about, which meant I couldn’t take/drag/throw him into the sea.
On the final night of the holiday we had a table booked at a restaurant that had been highly recommended on “Tripadvisor“. Funnily enough it was one we’d been to before, Zanzibar, but which was now under new owners, and had an up and coming new chef working there. The last time we had been there Lee-Anne had had Gnocchi, which turned out to have goats cheese in it. She didn’t know it had goat’s cheese in it until she exploded from either end. She’s allergic to goat’s cheese.
There were no vegetarian options on the on-line menu, but on phoning we were informed that veges could be catered too.
The place itself was very pleasantly laid out, if not in the greatest of locations, being on a main road and glass fronted. However this was not too much a distraction. The front of house person Renee, was courteous without being obsequious, and very friendly, her approach was very well suited to the ambiance of the place. The menu choice was good, if not extensive, the wine list apt. The kitchen can be viewed from most seats, something I rather enjoy in a restaurant.
The food was absolutely glorious!
I was amazed to find such great food in such a small out of the way location as Merimbula, it’s the sort of grub you would expect in a major city eatery. The Chef, Huw Jones, who was surprisingly not Welsh in any way shape or form, really does offer first class meals, prepared with skill and a great palate. Lee-Anne had the Fish, I had the vege, Reece and Bethy the meat. All of us were particularly impressed by the finesse and presentation of the dishes, because we’re pretentious foodies who do talk like that. (I thought I’d say that before you did.)
If I were to be picky, I’d say my main course spent a little too long waiting for the other dishes to be finished, and I would have liked to have had a recommended wine for each course. My main gripe was that despite the place being in the major cheese producing area of the state, there was no cheese board on offer.
Oh, the day after we got back Lee-Anne had this email exchange with her boss;
Hi there Lee-Anne,
Have you thought of how you might manage this excess leave going forward?
Dani
Hi Dani –
Usually, once every two years I take a great whack of leave to go back to the UK to visit my husband’s family. My last visit was done primarily on Flex leave due to an excessive Flex credit. I am now reducing the Flex credit I have accumulated I will be able to use my leave credits for my future leave. I intend to be going to the UK for an extended break in August/September 2013. I would need to take around 8 weeks off.
Cheers
Dani,
Any leave planned for this year?
Lee-Anne,
I have a week coming up in August. I can also take leave in caretaker.
Dani,
That’s good. I know D will be off getting married at some point in caretaker, but if we can work something out it would be good for you to take another week or even cash some in?
Lee-Anne,
Cashing in is always an option. One I hadn’t thought about. I’ll think about it.
So then, “Barnum,” I hear you cry, “what’s the news with the old blind dog?” Well he’s still alive; to be fair he’s doing rather well. We’ve sorted his meds regime, and his exercise regime is keeping him fit and healthy. Of course he’s still as blind as a bat, and still as stupid as a fencepost. This means his walks, (40 mins morning 30 mins night, plus slinging him outside for a piss, frequently,) are enlivened by his frequent and inexplicable decisions to do abrupt right turns when we are not watching him. These usually result in him ending up in thick bush, falling into storm drains, or wandering out into rush hour traffic. God knows why he does it, there he is wandering along a wide and clear track, and the light goes on in his head which says; “Sod this, it’s all far too easy, there must be some cliffs around here somewhere, “ and off he plunges.
He was keeping us awake at night, sorry, he was keeping Lee-Anne and Bethy awake at nights, I’m too deaf/drunk/uncaring to get up and deal with him usually. This resulted in frazzled nerves, for them, and me getting flack for sleeping through it all. The worse of these times, and this happened frequently, were when he woke them up, demanded to be let out into the garden at 3.30 am, got out there only to stand about like a dildo wondering why he was there, turn around and come back in, then piss on the laundry floor. So in the end drastic action had to be taken. We cleared out one of the spare rooms in the house, laid waterproof floor coverings and put his bedding, and water bowl in there. One morning on the way back from the gym we saw a futon outside a house, it looked like it had been put out for anyone who wanted it; “That would make a great Barney bed,” said Lee-Anne. So the next day I went and knocked on the door of the house to make sure they were giving it away. I didn’t get an answer, so took that as a; “Yes, please take it,” and slung it in the car and run away. Barney now has a palatial bedroom, and so now each morning, Lee-Anne and me play a game of; “who can stay in bed the longest,“ in order to not be the one who has to go mop up the piss, or worse.
But we love him to bits, more so now that Lee-Anne doesn’t need to get up four times a night. Lee-Anne was looking through some dog care websites in an idle moment and came across “zombie dog syndrome.” Ok it’s not actually called that, but that name is far more apt. “That’s Barney to a T!” she exclaimed. So we got him some pills for it, at $180 for 20 days supply. He’s on so many pills now he rattles. They don’t seem to have done much, for him, fuck all in fact, but they take a few months to work. Having said that, seeing as Barney is well known for having; “a heart as big as the planet, a brain the size of a pea,” he doesn’t have much of a base to rise above.
Oh my favourite joke of the week includes Barney. In correspondence with Susie in Devon she stated she wanted a dog, I told her that she could have mine, and that seeing as he was now; “Old, blind, deaf, stupid, very very stupid, and grey, I was thinking of renaming him Nicol.”
Susie replied to say that the comparison was unfair as; “At least Barnum still has his hair!”
Nicol Barney
While we’re on the subject of jokes, we saw two very different comedians last month.
John Cleese was on his; “Paying my alimony bills” tour, and really didn’t do what we thought would be a stand-up routine. For the first half of the show he was “interviewed” live on stage by a local TV presenter. This was good, and, I will admit, didn’t seem over scripted. The second half of the show was a; “John Cleese, my career in comedy,” documentary, presented by the man himself and using clips from his shows and films to illustrate his approach to, and take on, comedy. Not only was this very entertaining, but it was also fascinating inasmuch as you saw how the man’s mind worked, and how he made comedy work for him. A different and great night out, made more salient by the fact that Cleese in now 72 and may not ever tour again.
Ross Noble in his “Nonsensory Overload” show walked on stage and talked complete bollocks for two hours. Two hours of mad, surreal, hyperactive, completely hysterical bollocks, I was damn close to peeing myself with laughter. The best stand up we’ve seen since Alan Davies or possibly even better than him.
Oh, remember we saw “The Mousetrap” when we were in London? They are doing a “60 th. Anniversary Tour” of the show, and playing Canberra. So we’ve got tickets to that.
(Edited to add; I only went and booked our tickets for the first night we’re supposed to be down the bloody coast on our next holiday, 4 th. August! Hopefully they’ll let us change them.)
The mother in law, dear god, please save us! She went away to a “Veteran’s Athletics meet” in New Zealand a month back. Now you have to give respect to someone of her age who puts themselves forward like that, and trains and competes, fair play to her. But, and it’s a big BUT! While in NZ she saw a TV advert for an exercise machine, one she decided was the answer to all her prayers and would give her the slim waist she has craved for years. Why a woman in her late 70’s is so hung up on having a slim waist I do not know, it’s not like she’s going to be out on the pull down at the local rave club. But once she gets an idea in her head there’s not changing her. So when she got back to Aus she rushed out and bought one.
She should have read this first!
Ok, the first problem came when she got it home, she didn’t have a clue how to assemble it. So Lee-Anne got a series of phone calls insisting she drop everything and come around to put this piece of crap together. Seeing as Lee-Anne was at work at the time she declined to attend to this “urgent” matter until she had finished for the day. Ok, the next big problem came once it was assembled, Mary couldn’t use it. Not at all. We all took turns in demonstrating how to use it; you just kneel on the fucking thing and swing your hips/arse/legs from side to side. So she’d get on it, and stay, there totally immobile. So we left her too it.
Two days later, Lee-Anne gets a phone call; “I can’t move I’ve done my back and my knee in.” At first she tried to deny it was this new exercise (scam) device that was responsible, but even she couldn’t get away with that. So physio and chiropractors and GP visits were mandated, and to this day she’s still using a walking stick, and on the old “Hillbilly Heroin” for the pain. The device is now safely locked away in the shed. We didn’t hit her when she suggested we take it home for Bethy and Lee-Anne to use. As a consequence of this event Lee-Anne now goes around to Mary’s place on the weekend and cleans the house for her, and we do a “meals on wheels” type food drop most days.
Oh, and her fucking waist is no slimmer. [Lee-Anne; actually she’s lost three kilos since she’s stopped exercising.][Taff, shows how good her idea of exercise is then!]
Oh, the other day she asked me to go to her house as her internet connection wasn’t working. As in all other instances when something of her’s isn’t working, it’s a major fucking emergency and must be fixed NOW! So I spent a fruitless hour trying to get her reconnected, and in the end said; “I’ll have to phone your internet provider Mary, the problem’s definitely at their end.” Her reply? “Oh, you’ll have to use your mobile, my phone line is down while they cut the trees at the back of the house down.” Did she think the computer communicated with the net? Via semaphore or something? I tried to explain that without a phone line working she could not connect. “Oh, I’m sure I can,” was her reply. I left.
As I said to you in the last missive, I did my back in recently myself. A quick trip to the chiro sorted it, but while there something amazing happened. Dot was doing my usual clicks and pops, when she noticed my neck was badly out of line. So she gave that an almighty wrench, and it cracked with a sound like lightening striking a golfer, (an event which doesn’t happen often enough.) Ok, I felt ever so much better after that, and the pain in my back was gone, but the most surprising thing was so had my tinnitus! For the first time in god knows how many years, I no longer had the ringing in my ears. I was amazed, this has been a persistent problem since my teens, sometimes it gets so bad I cannot sleep for it, and there it was, gone. It came back after two days, but it was blessed relief for that. It’s too expensive to go back for another cracking too frequently, and I’m not sure if my neck would stand the wrenching, but boy it was good.
Also as part of my therapy, (ok, also just because I could,) I treated myself to a traditional Thai massage at my regular place, “Foot and Thai”, (stop sniggering; it’s not a hand job shop.) On my way out the receptionist gave me a voucher for a freebee! Which was nice. I may have that next week.
My good friend Kieran sent me an email the other day, to let me know that the Welsh rugby squad, the current Grand Slam Six Nations Champions, (suck it up Kingman,) were coming to Aus on tour. Not only were they doing that, but astoundingly the only club side they were playing were our local side; “The Brumbies”. Lee-Anne kindly agreed to come up to Sydney with me to watch them play Aus, as long as we could make a dirty weekend of it. Not that there was any chance of me refusing that. No one wanted to come with me to watch the Brumbies match, so I’m going on my own.
My rig for these matches is Welsh flag cape, Scarlets rugby jersey, black kilt, and (courtesy of Jamesy,) some Scarlets rugby socks. Do you think adding a Welsh scarf will be overkill? I’ll post a photo in the next update. I think Mr Harness summed my get up best; “You’ll be going as a fist magnet then?”
Bethy has been to several 18th birthday parties recently, god that makes me feel old. Not as old as her getting her voter registration papers in the post recently did, but old none the less. But we think she’s rebelling. You see when Lee-Anne and I were around the 18 mark, the sign of a good party was waking up the next morning with a stupendous hangover, wondering what that weird chemical taste in our mouths was and why we had the fixed idea that god was a meerkat, several mysterious bruises, a strange rash, and a distinct shortage of underwear. My favourite birthday memory was when I got banned from The Thomas Arms in Llanelli, due to me telling the landlady it was my 18th birthday. I’d been drinking there for four years already.
But Bethy doesn’t drink, comes home responsibly, (usually in a parents car,) underwear intact and in place, and even baked a cake for one girls’18th birthday present! The last 18th party she went to she was on her best behaviour as they were all Christians there.
Kids these days, I don’t know, tch!
A good friend in the States posted on the discussion forum that she had an I-pod up for grabs. I bid $50 to a charity of her choice, and she kindly sent it over. (Breast cancer and cerebral palsy.) It’s an 80 gig jobby, and a wonderful thing to have. First thing first, podcasts! I now have the Sunday Omnibus edition of “The Archers” downloaded and installed every Monday morning. Not only that but I’m running the racks of the public library audiobooks collection, and torrenting stuff by the terabyte.
The other day I loaded 150 + CD’s worth of music on it, and it wasn’t even quarter full. I then spend an afternoon taking most of the music off it as I’d not been too discriminating when loading it. Gentle Giant/King Crimson/Frank Zappa/The Groundhogs, each did one or two good albums, so why did I have their entire discography on there? And doesn’t that music date me? Truth be told I only ever listen to early/minimalist music these days in any case, I’ve developed a passion for Avro Paart, not a physical one fortunately.
Our magpie chums are getting even cockier than the lorikeets, here’s one demanding to be fed, and walking into the house!
Oh we’re on the verge of winter here; overnight it goes down below freezing with a best of -6 so far. The first dusting of snow has hit the ranges hereabouts.
Anyway, bollocks to the lot of you, it’s goodnight from me.
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