I have just come home after a pleasant afternoon with my Dad, a late Father’s Day visit. I know Father’s Day was last weekend but my siblings saw Dad then and to be honest, except for one of them, we just do not get on so I would rather go when they are not there. It is better for all concerned.
My Dad is a very unique character, and we talked about all sorts of things, the breakdown of his marriage to my mother, something for which my mother has always blamed him for 100%, but she was no angel, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, and of course my own children and grandchildren.
We talked about his poker machine addiction, his horse racing addiction, and my poor stepmother who is the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. Dad told me how lonely he is, what a wonderful life he has had, and the fact that his only regret is my stepmother’s illness. He told me that she always stood by him no matter what and he will never give up on her.
Dad is a Type 2 diabetic with a very sweet tooth. He gave up checking his blood sugar years ago and basically eats and drinks whatever he wants, he has bags full of lollies at his fingertips, some of my favourites, but I resisted.
One of Dad’s favourite lollies are jubes, not only full of sugar but covered in sugar as well. One of Dad’s favourite drinks is coffee with a bit of port in it, and what does Dad sweetens his coffee with, he saves the sugar that collects at the bottom of the jubes bag and puts that in his coffee. What more can I say!
I’m glad that’s over, another very busy week behind me. It has now been five weeks since the merger, I was off work ill for a week and I just cannot get my head above water. September, October and November are my busiest months of the year for meetings, and I just don’t see how I can catch up, but I will. Rock on December, I cannot wait to get to New Zealand.
Thursday was a good day, absolutely nothing could have wrecked that day. I had a 5.00pm meeting to which only two out of sixteen owners attended and I had six proxies, one short of a quorum, not my problem but mildly annoying just the same.
Anyway son Number 3 Blake moved to Alice Springs back in April and on Thursday he came home for a few days break, I was beside myself I miss him so much. Alice Springs obviously agrees with him, I know I look at my sons through rose-coloured glasses, but he looks so happy and healthy. He went away to deal with his demons and as much as I miss him it is not yet time to come home.
Blake’s intention was to surprise his daughter and all his nieces and nephews so we arranged for the entire family, with the exception of Wade and Gink who were on holiday in Phuket at the time, to come to our house for a pizza night. Unbeknown to the children Blake was hiding in our spare room.
When everyone had arrived Blake facetimed his brother Kane and was talking to everyone, the children were so excited to see his face and talk to him. Quite out of the blue the phone cut out, hmm, I wonder why, and then Blake walked into the livingroom, the children just looked at him in amazement and then all of a sudden the penny dropped and he was mobbed. It bought a tear to the old man’s eye I can tell you.
Thursday was a good day.
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.
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!
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.
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, 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.