Miss Marple and the strange case of the vanishing wheelchair.

Click on photos to go to the relevant gallery.

 

Let’s get the unpleasant bits over with first, shall we?

Mary’s broken leg turned out to be far more damaged than originally thought, a MRI scan revealed bits of floating bone, and the poor old cow ended up with  five screws and a plate in it..

She’s not able to weight bare, and has to wear a plastic compression boot constantly. I’ve taken to calling her Robocop, much to her displeasure..

Lee-Anne has taken a few weeks off work to help her.  Lee-Anne had built up 6 months worth of personal leave so she’s not losing out financially. But, as you can imagine, spending all day everyday with her mother is doing her head in a bit. Lee-Anne’s been getting her out and about, but all Mary seems to want to do is to visit places where there is a coffee shop, and sit in the cafe there. They’ve done the “Gold of the Incas” exhibition, the National Arboretum, the Botanic gardens, and the National library. I went on that last one, there’s a fantastic display of original ancient maps on. (This one is a doozey.)

 

Bethy’s birthday was a real calamitous cock up! (Bethy turned 19 on 21/2/14) Dear god, even by my standards it was a howler. I’d booked tickets for us to see “A Murder is announced”.

 

I bought tickets for Sunday 23/2/14 for the 5.30 pm showing. Then, we booked a table for Jamie’s Italian at 8.45 pm, the only time they had a five seat table available. But we only went and booked it on the wrong bloody day, we booked on the Saturday. We had sort of got it into our heads that we had play tickets for the Saturday not the Sunday. Bethy arranged a party for her and her mate Savannah, at a local club. On the Sunday. So it ended up with us cancelling out table at Jamie Oliver’s, as it was a late after show booking, and none of us fancied trekking into town that late to eat. Then we had to try to get rid of Bethy and Brandon’s show tickets.

 I was so pissed off at Bethy having to miss the show, she’s a real Agatha Christie fan, that I lashed out on two more tickets for them for the Thursday performance. So it ended up with just me, Lee-Anne and Mary going on the Sunday.

 But wait, the disasters don’t end there!

We pushed Mary up to the theater. We’d hoped that Ange, Lee-Anne’s mate would join us with a friend, so as to not waste the tickets. They didn’t show up. So I asked the girls at the ticket counter if they’d try to get rid of them for me; they said they’d try, but didn’t think they’d have much luck, as no one had been asking for returned tickets. The one of them said; “We could exchange them for another night’s performance for you.” Which was kind, but no bloody good as I’d already forked out $200 on two more tickets for bloody Thursday!

Just to rub salt in it, we then ended up sitting apart. Me at the rear, Lee-Anne and Mary sitting near the front. Why? Well that was the only way we were able to get a wheelchair accessible seat for Mary. Fortunately the show was fantastic, and the old bird playing Miss Marple was spot on. There were two really tasty young actresses in the cast too. I love that 1930’s/40’s “Art Deco” period/setting, so decadent and sexy.

On the way out, we‘d pushed Mary all the way to the car, when I looked down; I noticed a sticker on the frame of the wheelchair; “Errrmmmm… Lee-Anne, that’s not our wheelchair!” We’d left with the wrong wheelchair, though fortunately with the right mad old bat. Luckily it was a better quality wheelchair we’d “acquired.” Me and Lee-Anne legged it back to the theater with it, but there were no wheelchair users left there. So someone had gone off with our (hired,) wheelchair. Oh bollocks. We left our contact details there, but so far no one has reclaimed it. We’ve also contacted the wheelchair hire place, and they didn’t seem too bothered, probably as we’d stolen them a better one.

Came out of work on a Thursday evening shift, and went to drive home, only to find that some junky scumbag had put a brick through my rear passenger window, and stolen our trusty GPS. The bastard. I’d have loved to have caught him at it, the price of getting the window repaired would be worth it just to smack his face in. I reported it to the cop shop, just to get a job number for the insurance claim.

I called around and got estimates to get it repaired. The best deal was $295.00 for the window, and $200.00 on a new GPS. I contacted my insurance firm, who kindly pointed out that I had a $700.00 excess on my policy. Bollocks.

Right, on to things more pleasant

Bethy’s started at Uni, and so far things are going well. She does have one timetable cock up which means she has to do her “Psychology Practicals” on Tuesdays between 5.00 pm and 7.00 pm. She’s started making new friends there, and feels she fits in well. She also told me that being in a steady relationship, and actually living with her boyfriend, has given something of a cachet to her. Though not with her Christian friends who have very definite, and rather old fashioned views on “living in sin.”

My new lens eventually came through, the day before we left on holiday. I ended up ringing John at “My Camera Focus” to see when it would arrive, not a clever thing to do. The guy is going through a rather messy divorce and bent my ear on how depressed he was, it was just like being at work FFS! Though I must say it’s a lovely piece of kit, one with a sharp learning curve, and he did do me “mate’s rates” on it, so fair is fair. It’s now known as “the bird scarer”, as every flying thing avoids its gaze like the plague. I did manage to get this little cracker with it though.

Me and Lee-Anne and the four dogs, took a well earned (fuck you too,) break at the coast. We had six days at Pambula, on NSW’s “Sapphire Coast”.

We didn’t do much,.

Walked the mutts on the beach two or three times a day, ate out a fair bit, drank lots, shagged like bunnies. I had my first Marlin tail at “Innes Boatshed” in Bateman’s Bay, and it’s now my dead cert favourite cut of fish. By god, I never knew fish could have such dense protein, it was like eating steak! As it was their first coastal trip the puppies, Digby and Ginger, were at first awed by the sea, and then reveled in it.

We also had a meal at an old haunt of ours; Zanzibar Cafe in Merimbula. We hadn’t visited this area, nor Zanzibar cafe since 2012. However, Renee the front of house person remembered us, and remembered that we had reviewed the gaff on Tripadvisor. Not only that but she remembered that at that time I was a vegetarian, and other inconsequentials about our visit.

In my review of our last visit I had written;
“If I were to be picky, 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.”

We returned to find that on the menu there was now , (excellent,) recommended wines for each meal, and a local cheeseboard on offer, this was presented on a giant “mousetrap”, a lovely touch. See, I’m now a very influential gastronome me!

As you know, I’m no longer a vege, I’m now a fish murderer,  and therefore had two fish courses for entree and main, both were superb, balancing texture and flavour to a very high standard. The bloody presentation was faultless.

Lee-Anne had  rock oysters, (shudder,) and  venison, which she said were first rate.  I, inevitably had the cheese board to finish, good strong local cheeses with appropriate support. Lee-Anne had something called a “chocolate opera” for desert, a not visually stunning dish but a real taste explosion!

(God, Lee-Anne on oysters and chocolate! Pity me guys. More unnatural demands on me then,  I’m only a frail male you know!!)

The menu is now price fixe, which is always a welcome sight, and the meals were priced very reasonably considering the standard of food and ambiance of the venue. Since we last visited Zanzibar has been awarded a “hat”, I can only think they will earn another soon. The chef’s name is “Huw Jones”, but he’s not Welsh, how odd.

 At work, we’ve got a new consultant. We liked the old doctor, but they do love us and leave us. She’s a Pom is Doc Sheriff, but unfortunately not from Nottingham. This new lass is very on the ball though, she’s worked at EPPIC in Melbourne under Professor McGory, the leading psychosis quack in Aus. Then we find out she’s five month up the duff and will only be with us a short while. Bugger.

Oh, we may be moving to a new office, one down South Canberra in the inelegantly named suburb of “Tuggeranong”. As this will be a fair old trip in for me each day, Lee-Anne’s agreed to me buying a new motorbike when the time comes. I think she fancies the insurance payout to cover  our next trip home.

Lovely eventwe saw  the other day. Ok, you’re a rather large young lady, “blessed” with enormous tits. You’re on your way to a date, so you stop off at a large darkened reflective window to adjust your lippy, make sure your hair is fine, and while you’re at it, rearrange your tits in your bra so as to make maximum impact. This takes a lot of fiddling, some careful manipulation,  and a fair bit of  heaving. Satisfied with how you now look, you stroll on a few steps. You then pass another large window, but one which does not have the reflective coating. Only then do you realise that your whole performance, including some rather nifty tit juggling, has been watched by a gym-full of people, mainly blokes, and including a rather knackered looking Welshman who has just fallen off the rowing machine in laughter. Mustering as much dignity as you can, you stroll on.

 The other day, bored with just doing “straight from the tin” beer brewing, I pushed the boat out and bought my own hops, and had a crack at brewing honey beer. I did this to my own recipe, one I made up on the spot.  (Brew beer, add hops to taste, when fermenting like buggery throw in a kilo and a half of honey, stand well back.) I did this as the best pint I had on our last trip home, was Dartmoor Brewery’s  “Three Hares honey Ale” at The Peter Tavy Inn.

I know this may shock you, but it turned out, well, very bloody nice indeed! Nothing like “Three Hares” of course, but still a good drop of, slightly honeyed, English Ale. This is now bottle conditioning in our airing cupboard. There will still be some left when it is three months old, and in top condition. But only because I’m having a “dry” March. I’ve decided that seeing as I felt so  great after my 9 weeks on the wagon, which I had  before coming home last time, that I’d make a regular thing of it. So this year March, July and November will be dry months. Don’t think I won’t do it, I’m too much of an an arrogant bastard not to.

We’ve had a couple of narrow missed with snakes of late.  Lee-Anne was walking our dogs down by the lake, when a red-belly slid underneath Millie. Millie froze in position, fortunately, with a look of absolute disgust and terror on her face. Then one night when we were both walking the dogs at Sheppard’s lookout, Ginger got all excited; “Oh what’s that little fucker playing with now?” I asked. A Brown Snake was the answer. Ginger was playing “catch” with its tail, it looked like the prospect of owning a “live stick” for playing with was all of Ginger’s dreams come true. Though a hefty boot and a good screaming at seemed to put him off the idea.

Clinically, the venom of the eastern brown snake is known to cause diarrhea, dizziness, collapse or convulsions, renal failure, paralysis and cardiac arrest.

How do you get this information into a particularly stupid puppy?

 Me and Lee-Anne have bought our first bit of new furniture together, not bad, we’ve only been married twelve years. Ok, we did buy a new mattress when I moved over, as Lee-Anne’s old water bed I found uncomfortable, and my tossing, (don’t) and turning at night made her seasick. So we’ve lashed out a couple of grand on two, not one but two, three seater sofas. They are this sort.

 

But ours will be in dark fabric, not white leather, so not much of a clue in that picture.

We’re off to see Billy Bragg in March, I haven’t seen him since I bought him a pint at Cambridge folk festival. Well I didn’t so much buy him a pint, just gave him one. I was walking through the crowd, with two fresh pints of Guinness, when I came upon him being interviewed for local TV. So I strolled up, asked him if he liked Guinness, and when he said yes, I gave him mine (it was untouched,) and said I’d get myself another. He was most amused, the camera crew and interviewer were not . I wonder if he remembers me?

We’re also seeing Alan Bloody Davies. I’m only annoyed as he advertised tickets for his Sydney gig, and when I bought four, only then did he advertise his Canberra gig. Still I’ve got three days off, so we may as well make a trip up to the big city for it.

I’ve also bought tickets for the cricket world cup matches which are being played in Canberra;

Event: South Africa v Ireland
Date: Tue 3 Mar 2015

Event: West Indies v Zimbabwe
Date: Tue 24 Feb 2015

Event: Bangladesh v Afghanistan
Date: Wed 18 Feb 2015

Best seats in the house again too.

 

Well that’s it for this update, go listen to the new music, go and marvel at the lovely photos, or, presumably, just go.