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When in Rome……

There is an old saying, “When in Rome do as the Romans do”, given the amount of travel and migration between nations today I believe that statement is more relevant than ever, although perhaps it should now read, “When in my country live by the laws of my country.”

I don’t care what ethnic background, what religion, what way of life you come from, when you choose to live, or even visit a foreign country, you are obliged to live by that countries laws. Should you choose to live in a foreign country I also believe you should have to learn that countries native language.

I am not saying that Australia has it right, not all the time anyway, but I do not believe we should change our laws, our way of life, to suit a minority of foreigners who have chosen to live in this country. I am damn certain that should the roles be reversed no country on Earth would change their laws to suit their own migrant minority.

It is simple really, if you choose to live in a foreign country, then good or bad you must abide by the laws of that country. Generally speaking you leave your homeland and move to another country because there is something about your home nation you are not happy about, and you select the nation to which you relocate because of the way of life available to you and your family there, so why would you want to change it.

Yet another reason why I will always live in Australia.

The Dreaded Lurgy

I just cannot shake this lurgy, it does not appear to be whooping cough now but more the dreaded lurgy of the moment. Every second person at work has it to some degree although it appears that I have been afflicted the most.

As we are short-staffed at work I am forced to go in every day and do my meetings which is not really a good thing as I am then coming home as night falls and the air is at its most crisp. I have to confess that I am over it.

I did not leave the house last weekend at all, Brian is sleeping in another room so he does not get ill, and I am coughing and spluttering and spitting out phlegm like a veritable machine. Now there is an image that will burn itself into your  retina.

I really wanted to be well this weekend as my youngest grandson Zak turns four and we still do not have his birthday present and I want to go to the family barbecue. I suppose if I sit inside I will be OK. There is also a pigeon loft that I am wanting to look at which is arranged for this Sunday, but that might have to wait…..Bugger!

Patience is a virtue!

Work, Work, Work

I seem to be taking two steps forward and one step backwards at the moment, I have never worked so hard in my life but I just cannot catch up on my ever-increasing workload. Surprisingly I love my job, I like the new company I am working for, everyone is very friendly.

I am a person who likes to be in control of their job, but with the recent merger and having to learn my way around new software, I am struggling. I am living proof you can teach an old dog new tricks, but I am just a little slower than I used to be.

I don’t like asking people for help, I am used to being the person everyone else comes to and I don’t like the role reversal. In saying that I will soldier on, that is my nature, but I am allowed to have a grumble.

My portfolio has grown just in the two weeks since the merger and I think I am now at my capacity, once I get my head above water I may be able to take on a bit extra but just at the moment I am drowning. I don’t remember the last time I dreamt about anything but work, that can’t be good.

Only four months until Brian and I go to New Zealand. I can’t wait.

A couple of old crocks

Brian and I have just got home after the weekly grocery shop, not something we enjoy doing but until we can afford to pay someone else to do it there is no choice. We usually shop on a Thursday night but I was ill, Friday night was out as I was still ill and did not go to work. Still ill today but it is not quite as cold through the day, and Brian cannot shop by himself due to his back problem.

Neither of us felt like going and we limped around the supermarket like a couple of old crocks, Brian with his back, and me with my hip. We had to laugh, it makes us wonder what we will be like in twenty years time, a couple of really, really, old crocks, scooting around the supermarket on our tandem gopher.

Brian is now blissfully sleeping, breathing very deeply I might add, and I have just finished watching the football. Dinner time in a couple of hours and then to settle in for the night and watch the Adelaide Crows defeat the Richmond Tigers. Fingers crossed.

Old and Senile

Old and senile, the old bit comes to all those lucky enough to live a long life, the senile bit, well fortunately it skips some of us. Not so my mother, I can think of no two words that better describe her than old and senile, it’s sad really. Dad is just one day older than Mum and he is as sharp as a tack, and Brian’s mother is the same.

We went to see Mum last weekend and for the first time she found it difficult to recognise Brian, and until she heard my voice she was not sure about me either, or was she? Mum has never been averse to playing the odd mind game, especially if it puts you on a guilt trip, the only problem is that the older she gets the harder it is to tell. I am starting to think she is now beyond those games.

The visit started out pleasant enough, she was quite chatty and her normally very cloudy memory was spot on. She was talking about things and people long gone, and even remembered one of my sons that she has not “remembered” for years. Hmmm, what was that I said about mind games.

Anyway the longer the visit went on the more she dribbled the most outrageous of her “memories”. She claims to have been so poor she had to eat scraps off the street, she claims to have lived in hiding for many years, frightened to be found, she claims she has never known true love until recently as she has befriended a kindly old gentleman in the nursing home, she claims she has been physically beaten her entire life, so badly that the bruises have not healed to this day.

All this of course is absolute twaddle, my grandparents were ordinary working class people but their children always had food in their stomachs and a roof over their head. I know Mum has had times when she suffered from depression, she has always been a very needy person, but most of her life has been about her, prehaps this is her way of continuing that trend.

I do remember one very unpleasant relationship she had after she divorced my father which resulted in a daughter being put up for adoption, and even I remember this fellow was not very nice, but that was over forty years ago, Mum has had quite a good life since then.

I suppose if this fantasy world is what gets her through the endless borings days in the nursing home, confined either to bed or a chair, then it is up to her, she is hurting no-one but herself. Sad really.

 

Pride and Prejudice

People please take a little bit of pride in where you live, I am tired of driving around my local suburb only to see rubbish bins over flowing, litter on the side of the road, empty bags of junk food, the list goes on.

This hits even closer to home as the ferals that live next door not only leave their bins permanently on the kerbside, but they often overflow, or the lids fly open and in go the crows for a free feed, flicking the rubbish out of their way so it blows not only onto my own front yard, but up the street as well. I am over it, I will be contacting the council this week. If my neighbours, two of the most unfriendly looking characters you could hope to meet, will not do the right thing I will force their hand. I am certain they are renters, I cannot believe anyone would treat their own home with such disrespect. It is no wonder people look down their nose at the northern suburbs, who could blame them.

As for my neighbours, if indeed they are renters their property manager is not doing their job, what would you do if you were told your tenants were not looking after your property. Lord knows what the inside of the house looks like.

When we lived in North Haven there was never this problem, we were in a nice street in  a nice suburb, and people took pride in where they lived. We have always taken pride in where we live and I will not have anyone else disrespect my home.

We also lived in the country for a couple of years, people in both towns were proud of their towns, the only litter came from tourists, usually city people with no respect for other people’s homes. Prejudice is indeed alive and well, city people may think that country people are dumb yokels, but that is nothing compared to what country people think about city folk who trash their towns.

You can drive down any road any day in the city, and you will see rubbish thrown out the window, cigarette butts out the window. Do you think these people reserve their actions for the city, how many bushfires are started by  discarded cigarette butts. Use your ashtray. Crap in your own backyard if you want to but leave mine alone.

Frustrated

I am feeling a little frustrated at the moment, I pride myself on always being in control, particularly professionally, but that is just not happening at the moment. I understand that I have just started working for a new company, with new procedures, and new software, but I am finding the transition difficult to say the least.

The software is not as intuitive as I am used to, the manuals are not as helpful as those I used to write, and my co-workers are not as inquisitive, they have not “played” with the software like I do. Simple procedures are no longer simple procedures, more steps, more icons, more of everything, but less information.

Oh well Mitch50, chin up, head down, do not let it beat you. Be the leader, take control, the world is your oyster. Bugger, I cannot wait to retire.

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