The Big Move

Here I am.  Almost two months since I last blogged.  I have thought about hitting the keyboard many times but alas time and energy escaped me.  Only days ago I dragged my computer and its many components out of a big cardboard box where it had been unceremoniously placed on Friday 17th March, the day of the big move. 
My family and friends are tired of me saying, "I sold my house in five minutes and five minutes later I bought this house."  It's not entirely true; the time elapse is slightly longer but it seems it happened that way.  Sold and bought.  Simple.  Done.  No one is more surprised than me.  I am very grateful to the powers that be.  I know the good Lord above is looking out for me. 
The timing couldn't have been better as I see Merv's health declining so rapidly.  He went into respite before the move and stayed there for over a week afterwards. 
I was terrified to have him home.  I was so scared of him falling and me of failing.  In hindsight he has not fallen though there have been many near misses.  He can not walk without a person guiding him while holding his arm and a hand placed firmly around his waist. 
Everyday he stays on his feet is a day well done.
Moving house is the time you find out who you can count on.  To say it was overwhelming is an understatement.  Firstly I had to get it through my thick head that my house had really sold and packing and leaving my house was definite! 
My two sisters were amazing.  They packed for me, provided me with boxes, tape and texta colours.  They brought food and talked me through the packing process.  Maureen provided support and labour (and children) for our garden makeover, rubbish skip, cleaning for the Home Open and so much more. Susan packed my kitchen.  I didn't know where to begin but it appeared she had it all done in five minutes, at least it seemed that way.
In the last week Susan stayed for a whole day packing and cleaning and sorting.  Two good friends offered their help and though I had no idea what they could do I took up their offers.  I was hoping they would like to go out for coffee but they planted their feet, grabbed boxes and we filled them together.
Six days before we moved we invited friends and family to our Farewell Party.  It was an open day where people could come whenever they had time.  It was quiet in the morning with a few people stopping by but in the afternoon people filled every part of the living areas and spilled outside onto the patio.  Not only did we catch up, they caught up with mutual friends and agreed we should all do it again. A friend later asked if the Farewell had been a good idea.  I replied it was an amazing experience catching up with people, some we hadn't seen for years.  No packing happened that day and in many ways it was good to have a break.
I remember many bedtimes I would think, 'this time next month I'll be sleeping in the new house.'  It always seemed so far away and then it was upon us.  Time waits for no one.
I still wake up each morning hardly believing we sold and bought so quickly.  Selling at an inflated cost and buying at a bargain price.  This house is so very different from our last but it ticks the boxes and provides a fabulous recreational area for Mel. 
We have been truly blessed.  We walk 16 minutes to the ocean and 5 minutes the opposite direction to the estuary.
There is much to do in this house of ours.  It is slowly becoming a home.  Maureen and Steve have provided many hours of labour in the garden and house.  Steve's brother Larry has amazing patience and never flinched once while putting together the IKEA sofa bed and TV stand.
There is much to tell and write about but just one story at a time.

Farewell Party - Some of our friends

Friday 17th March - the big move

16 minute walk from our house to the ocean

Mel exercising at the beach with her cousin

New house, new furniture

Merv enjoying fish and chips at the beach

Oh no, IKEA flat packs!

Perth Writer's Festival

I had planned this weekend for several months.  Merv went into respite while I relaxed and later in the week would be attending the Writers Festival at UWA.  I never considered we would be packing and getting ready for the move of a life time.  I had planned to put our house on the market this weekend but it's been sold and it's now time to pack.
I wasn't sure if I should just scratch the writer's festival or whether I should take the time to go.  I figured next year I wont be able to attend so I decided to make up time packing and cleaning tomorrow and in the evenings.
Over two days at the festival I attended eight sessions.  Each session comprises of two to three authors and a speaker who oversees each session.  The authors always have something in common, whether its the setting or the plot or the genre of their books.  I am always inspired.
My first session was called, 'The Woman Who Changed her Brain.' Barbara Arrowsmith Young was born without spacial awareness deficiency of her left side and had various learning issues.  I was amazed how she learnt how to overcome her learning difficulties and has created programs which initially helped her but now has helped many others throughout the world.  I bought her book.  Hopefully I will find time to read it soon. Other sessions I attended focused on: crime, Australian towns, community grief, families and their secrets and the current plight of refugees throughout the world.
Throughout the following sessions the auditoriums were filled to capacity with many being turned away.  I soon learnt after each session you have thirty minutes to move to the next one.  A quick toilet break, a bite to each while walking across the university grounds and getting into line awaiting the next session on my list.  There were a good range of topics and authors for each time slot but it often meant walking across lawns, up steps while reading the festival map!
It was hot both days but I wouldn't have missed it.  I feel more inspired to read and to write. 
There was just one thing I found annoying.  Not the authors or the organisers but the audience.  Many times I found myself sitting next to women who pulled out their iPhone and checked their social media.  One woman who was almost as old as me, pulled out her iPad as well as her phone.  I grunted for all to hear!  I wanted to wack her but refrained from doing so.  I couldn't see the point of them attending if their attention was on their device and not the authors.   Maybe I'm becoming a grumpy old woman!

Missy Mel

It is a term of endearment.  Missy Mel just stuck.  A name I call my daughter when it is just her and me together.  It's usually when I trying to get her attention or just to give her a hug.
The last twelve months have been more than trying for her.  Her beloved housemate Harriet left for a t year to access therapy and she was replaced by a older woman who berated her verbally and threatened her with violence. 
Mel's Grandmother died in May last year followed six weeks later by her boyfriend Damien.  He died from lung cancer at the tender age of 35.  Mel sat by his bed holding his hand in the weeks before he succumbed to the cancer.
It was a difficult year.
By December last year she had more than she could cope with.  Continuously she would ring me in tears, telling stories of her offensive housemate and the lack of support from staff.
Mel cried, I cried.  It just became too much.  I spoke with the resident manager but nothing was resolved.  Mel wanted to move out of the unit to another but permission was denied.
My brain went into lockdown, there was only one answer.  She had to leave and come home.
In hindsight it was the very best thing.  After a few weeks Mel became a happy, contented person once again.  There were a few meltdowns on the way through but all in all it was the very best decision.
I only thought yesterday if she was still at the villas we would be moving her out about this time and going through the rigours of sorting out her stuff.  How does a person fill one bedroom and ensuite with so much stuff?  At least the sorting and chucking out of her  'treasures' has already happened!
Mel is looking forward to moving with us to our new house closer to the ocean.  She has her own bedroom, a bathroom she doesn't have to share with everyone and an entertainment room with two entrances.  The sliding door opens into the back garden.  There is a lot of work to be done but just like here Mel will do her part and our house will become a home.

Christmas Without Mum

Mum and I were never close.  For many years of my adult life she lived a long way away.  I often saw her a few times a year.  When she was in Onslow it was probably less.  Mum mellowed in her later years and so did I.  Mum enjoyed the puzzles in 'That's Life' magazine which I bought for her religiously each week.  I often read the magazine first.  It was full of ghastly, horrific stories from readers with tales to tell.  I asked her if she read the stories and in her final months I don't think she bothered with the puzzles.
It's always in hindsight when we realised her health had been declining for sometime. I knew she was rapidly losing weight and her energy and enthusiasm with it.
Mum passed away in May this year.  It is our first Christmas without her.  We have had many family Christmas celebrations over the years, especially in Mandurah where both my sisters lived for sometime.  Mum would come to stay with them if she was living elsewhere.  In the last six years we celebrated Christmas with Mum.  Mum came to stay for a few days Christmas 2009 and the following year she moved to a nearby suburb.  Mum fell and broke her hip soon after her 80th birthday and entered a residential care unit.
Mum and whoever was free for Christmas came to my house and I cooked turkey and vegetables for dinner.  I always had a store bought plum pudding and another dessert.  We always had too much to eat and I would make Mum a ham and pickle sandwich for her to eat for her tea after she arrived at her home.
This year I missed not only our regular Monday visits but the banter between us about our Christmas Day menu.  Though there was little point in asking what she wanted as Mum always requested a fruit mince pie for morning tea and a sample of anything else available.  I always sought out the most moreish fruit mince pies, sampling one long before I purchased a dozen for Christmas day.  A treasured fruit mince pie would bring a sparkle to her eyes!
This year I missed our banter about what we would have for Christmas morning tea (of course, a fruit mince pie!).  I missed discussing the lunch and dessert menu (same as usual please).  The last few years Mum would have a rest after her big lunch and fall asleep quite happily on the lounge, no matter which movie was playing!
Lunch was always the same no matter how hot it was.  I prayed fervently for cooler weather but we were inundated with over 35 degrees Christmases, year after year!  Lunch was cooked turkey (usually a turkey roll), roast potatoes and pumpkin and stacks of steamed vegetables.  Yummy.  We covered ours with gravy but not Mum.  Then there was a glass of dry white wine.  Mum would take a sip or two and leave the rest.  She never said she didn't want wine so we just served it anyway!
Our table had the usual Christmas tablecloths and decorations.  We always had red and green bon-bons.  Mum was always intrigued by the miniature trinkets inside and took hers home.  We wore paper hats from the bon-bons, shared the terrible jokes, laughed and chatted throughout.
Vicki visited a few times for Christmas which often left me in a pickle.  I had to pick up Vicki and Mum basically at the same time.  Dustin often came to my rescue picking up Vicki or I would do two trips. Only once did I forget to turn on the oven and rang home while driving to give Mel direct instructions.  The turkey was later triumphant.
Mum was a silent support for Merv.  When we visited her she would always talked to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek as we left.  She just accepted him as he was.  Just one step down the ladder at a time.
After Mum died and Christmas thoughts began later in the year I suggested to the kids we have a Christmas picnic. No cooking, no hot veggies, just picnic food!
Vicki now needs to travel in a Maxi taxi with a carer making a Christmas Day visit far too difficult for everyone. Therefore she and her amazing young carer visited us a few days ago to celebrate Christmas and enjoy a cooked Christmas lunch.  Yes with the bon-bons and presents.   We had a lovely time.
My younger sister invited us to Christmas lunch at her house with her lovely family.  We cancelled our picnic and we are looking forward to spending the day a fabulous day together. 

Mum I will miss you on Christmas Day.

My Mum last Christmas at my house

Pocket Rocket

Only a month or so ago I had a little dream of selling our house next Spring.  With Merv injuring himself and his HD creating further decline my little dream is now a nightmare with a sale six month earlier.  I have a plan.  I always have a plan.
Part of my tailored plan was to hire a painter to paint my neglected fascias (the metal under the gutters).  I can see Mr Painter perched cheerfully on his ladder wearing his old white stained overalls, cap on his head and rag hanging out of his back pocket.  He whistles as he slaps the classic cream paint on my nicely prepped fascias.   Hmm, a nice day dream.
Yesterday in the heat of the day I went outside and spent a minute or two checking out my slightly rusted, pink mottled fascias.  Yep, a trip to Bunnings, a half hour how to do instruction from a fresh faced sales assistant and my scruffy cheerful painter is replaced by, wait for it, yes, me.  I don't wear overalls but a baggy shirt and a pair of old trousers with my iPhone shoved in my pocket.  (always take my phone, if I trip I can ring someone, maybe).  I pretend I'm singing with butterflies flitting close by.  The truth is I'll be sloshing the old paint on while cursing the sun cooks me or the rain splutters upon me! 
Being a realist, at times, I figure I could do so many metres each day.  I know the preparation is the big job and the painting is just the icing on the top.  I will save at least 75% of the cost if not more.  I can do it.  I'm good with a ladder up to the roof line but I daren't go further.  My house, a relic of the 70's has two gablets.  Yes I looked that up on Google.  It's a baby sized gable.  The front gablet which is seen from the road was repainted once, probably fifteen years ago.  The other gablet hidden by a side fence has lived it's life without any maintenance.  It's a mess. 
My imagination does a double take.  I see myself on the top rung of my longest ladder with paint pot balancing gingerly.  Down comes the ladder with me next.  I hit the concrete laying very still. 
OK too much imagining.  I ring the professionals and happily they return my call and pay me a visit.  I shall live to see another day.
Newly painted fasicas - a DYI project, a goal and a dream to bring alive.

Side Gablet, needs an overhaul!

Front Gablet needs a paint job also

Loop de Loop

I have this damn list.  On Monday it was just fine.  I listed the housework.  I completed the list.  I do housework week in and week out, it's no big deal.  All done.  There wasn't much on the list to complete (in or around the house) on Tuesday through to Thursday but Friday through to Sunday is a whole different story.  It's only been two weeks since my amazing garden makeover with the help of my extended family.  Thank goodness for them.  Eight people all working together to transform my disastrous gardens to a magazine makeover. Thank you to my lovely family.
Back to the list; it included painting the gate (not done), spraying the weeds (yes, done this morning), preparing the shed and laundry doors for painting (began but no where near completion) and there were a few obscure things listed which I have chosen to forget.  Oh, one of them was to move the mulch from the front to the back but I'm waiting for the weeds to die first. 
I had hoped for an hour or more for a snooze this afternoon while watching a movie.  Its 37degrees Celsius today (98.6 F) in Perth.  After our cold start to Spring we have this super hot day followed by a week of cooler weather. 
I was up at 5am this morning.  After Merv's fall which injured his leg and curtailed his confidence I have found getting him up to go to the toilet at 5am is working well. No more wet beds.  I usually go back to bed in hope of further sleep but today I had this most crazy plan. 
A cup of tea followed by weed spraying while the day had just began.  There was no wind and spraying seemed a great idea.  Then I grabbed the super high ladder from the shed and armed with screwdriver, hammer and a box cutter I prised off the shade cloth remnants from the front pergola.  The shade cloth perished years ago leaving the hammered in staples, rusty nails and bits of annoying shade cloth scraps.  Hoping it's a good idea to replace the shade cloth this year to keep the house cooler I remove all the bits and scraps.  Will it keep down the quote to replace it? Probably not, but it looks so much better now.
As I'm only half awake I remind myself to remove the hammer from the top of the ladder and slide the blade back inside the box cutter before I move the ladder to the next spot.  I remember most of the time but I witnessed my flying hammer several times which fortunately missed both my head and my feet.  I even kept my balance on the ladder and didn't fall off while prising those rusty nails out of the pergola frame, ten feet above the ground.  As the sun grew hotter I had completed most of the prising and pulling with only a few metres left.  I convinced myself to give myself a much needed break. 
I watered my amazing garden and went to the shop for the paper and milk before getting Merv up for the day.  He's watching the cricket and I'm getting ready for Mel's birthday celebration tomorrow.
I check my house improvement list.  There's a whole heap of things which are partially finished and some which are put on hold.  I will roll them over for the next week.  They will still be there waiting!
Though I tried to have a snooze this afternoon I didn't even feel tired.  A knock on the door in the heat of the afternoon and there stood a young man wearing a Red Cross T-shirt.  Before offering a donation I offer him a large glass of cold water which he readily accepted.  He had no sunhat on and he said he had a rather large head.  I looked at his head and took the opportunity to offer him the sun cap I was wearing this morning.  It expands at the back.  He happily took it.  "Please keep it," I said.  I offered him $5 donation but he was after a commitment of $1 per day.  I shook my head, pity I couldn't just give him $5.
Oh. back to my library book.  It wasn't as compelling as the first novel.  I would go as far to say it edges on the side of a Barbara Cartland.  Oh dear but a little light reading is just what the doctor ordered!

Everyone helping to create a masterpiece

The front garden weeded, new plants added and mulched

The back garden received the same fabulous makeover

Petunia's added Spring colour

Word Runner

I enjoyed Mary Simses' novel, 'The Irresistible Blueberry Bakeshop & Cafe,' I read it twice.  I enjoyed it even more the second time around.  When parting with it at the local library I asked the librarian if Mary had written any other novels.  The librarian studied her computer, pondering over the titles on the screen.  Finally she announced Mary had just released another novel.  Without even asking she zapped my library card and I was on the wait list.  I was excited but to fill in time I selected a couple of novels from the trolley labelled, 'Returned recently by other readers.'  It is a bit of a lucky dip.  Sometimes you pick something fabulous but mostly you don't.
I took home, 'Lands Beyond the Sea', by Tamara McKinley.  It was based in the 18th century and basically its about the first fleet from England to Australia.  It's easy reading.  Interesting to know a little more about how it was for the first settlers and convicts.  Every Aussie kid learns at school, how everyone had scurvy due to lack of oranges and fruit.  We know how shamefully our convicts were transported shackled in the hull of the ship with rats, little food, rotting clothes.  Many died  before reaching Australia.  The novel goes into depth of the conflict between the indigenous (Aborigines) and the settlers. 
I check my emails and there it is.  My book, 'The Rules of Love and Grammar' by Mary Simses is sitting at my local library waiting for me but I am 250kms away from home.  Ok, make a mental note to pick up book when I return. I put the book out of my mind there is fun to be had on my respite fortnight and fun is what I will have.  I do.
After picking up Merv I stop off at the library leaving him in the car with the window down.  I know where to find my book awaiting important library card holder.  It is tucked into a special shelf with my name printed haphazardly on a bookmark.  I am pleased but then I look at the cover and sigh.  A long deep exasperating sigh.  There is a dirty big note on the cover.  It states, 'TWO WEEKS Loan only'.  I groan - 2 weeks?  I could do with four!  A book with a challenge.  I am good with a challenge.  I remember for a split second I walked across England last year.  That was a challenge.  Yes I'm good with a challenge.
I am gone less than three minutes.  Merv is still sitting in the car.  I breathe a sign of relief.  No one has man-napped him!
There are a whole lot of decisions to be made including do I finish Tamara's novel or do I hide it and delve into Mary's?  It's the whole challenge thing.  I will do the challenge.
Merv falls twice during the week resulting in a black eye, sore hip and left leg.  I have to walk him to the toilet and back and forth to the lounge.  No time to read at present.
I spend my time in bed before sleep reading as much as possible as my eyes grown heavy and I succumb to sleep. 
I finally finish the novel, all 397 pages.  There is an prologue of Tamara's next book, 'A Kingdom for the Brave.'  I wince but plod on.  Sleep has yet to call me this night.  I eventually throw the book down on the floor.  It is awful.  A whole tribe of Aborigines massacred by an evil band of army personnel and settlers bent on revenge and greed.  I felt sick. Definitely not reading that book!
I have spent a whole week finishing the Australian book.  I have only one week to read my new book. It has 367 pages, I read seven pages on day one, I have six days to go and I now have 324 pages to go.  I can't pretend I don't know when it's due back.  That 2 week loan only note on the front cover 
reminds me there is no way out,  just keep reading and reading and reading Pamela.  It's a challenge, you can do it!  Watch this space!