Cull the Clutter.

Oh Look!  We’re past half-way through May already. I can’t keep up with the days as they roll by and there's a myriad of things to do, i.e. (notice I didn’t use the word “like”) de-cluttering this house for one, so that when we’re no longer around, our children have fewer things to get rid of.

The other day on TV utube I watched a woman talking about culling things out of the house for over 50s, using the word "minimalist" a few times.  I’m well over 50 so I qualify. She made so much sense, and as I listened to her advice I really became excited and no, I haven’t done a thing to begin – some days are just too hard to do anything except breathe. Other days I just keep forgetting, remembering only when it’s inconvenient, i.e. (again avoiding the word “like”) being in bed when the mind can think about these things. Maybe I should be doing it now instead of writing about it at 2am. Nahhh … where’s the fun in that … drink your Roiboos relax/help-to-sleep-tea dear so you can get back to bed for more sleep!

I’m almost sure I’ve reached the place where I can become unsentimental about most things.  Nearly everything in the cupboards (except maybe the kitchen) has either been given to us or inherited.  EEkkkkk … you ought to see our attic; it’s a minefield, although I haven’t been there for some time because I’m not supposed to climb stairs, however, I’m sure nothing has changed. One day I’ll make the effort, so house, be scared! Be very, very scared!

My darling sister is into culling, but there’s one thing wrong with her logic … she’s giving me back all the dishes and things that we’ve given her over the years but that’s ok; my fault for agreeing to take them back, but I only wanted to see what they are because I can’t remember … I’ll dispose of them along with all the other “stuff”  … once I get going. For now, there’s nowhere to put them except on a bench in the kitchen – or the attic.

My beautiful late-friend Yvonne de-cluttered her entire house when she was told she had terminal cancer.  I remember clearly her saying how good it felt; how unburdened her mind was now that all those things were gone that would not be needed when her time came.  How we miss you precious lady. But not forever ……

Around thirty-odd years ago I visited an elderly widowed neighbour. She was a really sweet woman who invited me into her old farm house and as we negotiated the path through the lounge room I could see she was a long-time collector of antique china and glassware. A culler’s paradise. Is your house a culler's paradise?

I should take a leaf out of our two daughter’s books. They’re minimalist without being scanty. I know that when I begin getting rid of things, it’ll be like Christmas because they haven’t seen the light of day since we’ve been here, going on 16 years. How silly is that?!  Maybe I shouldn’t have said it’ll be like Christmas because usually we keep Christmas presents don’t we? 

In the meantime, I’ve finished my cuppa Roiboos so I’ll be off back to bed. Nite nite … oh wait; that should be morning, morning. Hmmm doesn’t sound the same, does it?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Coronation as I saw it.

Saturday night in Australia, 6^th May, 2023.  Watching the coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla, I stayed until the bleary-eyed finish.  It was beautifully orchestrated in every aspect and seemed to go off without a hitch.  I loved the carriages, especially the made-in-Australia one which they arrived in at the Abbey. Such a pretty and beautiful piece of craftsmanship by many, designed by Jim Frecklington, born in Parkes, New South Wales, Australia. He must have felt proud at its use (the good proud; not the prideful proud). Because the gold coronation carriage is almost twice as heavy, eight beautiful horses are needed to pull it.

Here is information about Jim’s coach:   

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2647757/The-Queens-new-palace-wheels-Wood-Newtons-apple-tree-A-bullet-Waterloo-Metal-Dambuster-Unveiled-today-carriage-thats-mobile-museum-history.html

When I was a little girl my mother gave my sister and me each a tiny   miniature of the gold coronation coach with horses … a memento from queen Elizabeth’s coronation. I loved it but unfortunately it disappeared over time.  I wish there was a remake for this coronation.

I loved the dressing-up of guests and royalty. Little Princess Charlotte looked so pretty, and Prince George … well, not only did he look smart but  how well did he do his part?! Prince Louis didn’t let us down with a little touch of his mischievousness. Our King Charles looked so smart in his attire throughout, and that beautiful gold gown was stunning but I think he didn’t like it being so stiff while he tried to settle it when he sat down.  Queen Camilla looked so regal in her beautiful white dress.  

I loved the military of all classes with their cleaned and polished uniforms; I loved the sound of well-trained horse hooves on the bitumen; I loved the decorations on horses pulling the Coronation coach; I loved the police doing their duties; I loved the street banners and the crowds of flag-waving people with smiling faces of all ages; it seemed the atmosphere was loaded with joy and enthusiasm as they surged in waves up the Mall and gathered around the front of the palace. I loved the gathering on the balcony and the fly-overs. Yes, to me it was simply a beautiful time in history.

I could see the solemnity of responsibility once again in Charle’s and Camilla’s faces as they were being crowned. When it was all over and they were on the balcony, they seemed more relaxed and quite moved at the celebrating masses.

And so the Carolean era begins.  God bless you King Charles and Queen Camilla, in all the work you do and will be doing in the service of your people.

 

 

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Government packages - what you need to know if you don’t already.

Let’s talk about getting old, or even if you’re young and unable to manage while experiencing debilitating health issues. It’s often a stealth thing which creeps up on the unsuspected or it could be something sudden; we’re all affected differently. I say to  younger people than myself, look after your body as best you can because once you hit 70, that seems to be the time things begin to wear out or some-such and each year it gets worse albeit subtly. Often it’s various things that happen through life that play catch-up; all the little accidents over time, or sicknesses, plus other anomalies that come together to form difficulties one never dreamt of. But you know, people are resilient, stoic, and marvelous through whatever comes. The human spirit is amazing.

I don’t know about other countries, but here in Australia, if one is still able to stay in one’s own house but aren’t able to cope with housework, yard work etc., we have available to us different agencies who help us obtain a package for levels 1 to 4. The more debilitated you are, the higher the Level.  The package is a certain amount of money from the government to be managed by an agency for us to live as comfortable as we can in our own homes.  It’s cheaper for the government to do that than to put someone into hostel care.

Not knowing anything about these packages, I suffered considerably for nearly 2 years when I desperately, DESperately needed help, then a friend told me about the package. Although there is a waiting time (I waited around 8 months) I have just been granted  Level 3 which began last week and is such a blessing. Level 3 is worth over $37,000 each year.  It’s not put in my bank, but is managed by my agency and any job I need doing, the person working for me is paid by the agency I chose.

If John wasn’t able to take me to appointments or shopping, I could have someone do that. Someone can come into our home for 2 hours at a stretch to do anything that needs to be done which I cannot cope with. I can have a gardener to keep things tidy but not to plant flowers and the like; someone to wash windows; someone to do light maintenance. The only way I can move well is on my trike or in a wheelchair. I’m very good at waddling like a duck often holding a walking stick around the house or when walking into church when I can go – hooray for zoom!  I’m not complaining … no, no; I just want you to know what is available if you need help.

While waiting for the Level 3, Community Health sent a lovely woman to my house once a fortnight to vacuum and wash the floors and clean the downstairs bathroom which I use, for free. I remember the first time she came; it was a burden lifted.

Early this year I was granted an interim $12,000 8-week Therapy package which, after administrative costs, left about $8,500 to use for a physiotherapist, dietician, podiatrist, Occupational Therapist, and a whiz-bang motorized chair worth up to $4,000. The Occupational Therapist helped with the purchase of a chair and mine will arrive after Easter.  He also suggested there be grip handles inside and out at our three exterior doorways as well as the shower.  I balked at the idea of the door grips but had them installed and now I don’t think I’d be without them.

I was finding it hard to give up my independence but when it settles in the mind it’s not so bad. Last week I had a lovely young woman come do housework for me and as the idea settles I’ll hand over more chores that I’m finding difficult to do. Although John is my Carer, there are things he just can’t do.

As you’ve probably read in previous posts, I was beginning to get out and about on my tricycle and that is gold to me. I love cycling; it’s freedom to go just about anywhere I desire around Caloundra on my weight-bearing machine. I’ve even half-jokingly asked our son if he’d join with me in next year’s bicycle run through Brisbane city. When I bought my trike he invited me to do a part of the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail.  I’d still like to do that – we’ll see how things go.

I can’t express enough how thankful I am for the packages. Not only does it help physically, it also helps mentally, so if you’re having difficulties and need help, Freecall: 1800 200 422 at myagedcare or email: myagedcare.gov.au and register with them. They’ll start the ball rolling. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Another Gorgeous Morning.                                                         Monday 3^rd April, 2023

Don’t you just love Autumn?  Time to add a light blanket to the bed and feel cosy on cooler mornings.

We left the trike sitting on the rack on the car last night ready for an early start this morning. After a long bout of insomnia, I managed to grab another hour leaving a note for John to wake me.  Record of records … his wife was ready in quarter of an hour. John couldn’t contain his surprise about me being ready in such a short time. These days if I have to go out it can take far, far longer; anywhere from 3/4 to 1 hour. Am nearly as slow as a sloth. I love those creatures.  All I had to do was dress for riding and away we went. 

Being dropped at the entrance to the Bushland Park like yesterday, I went in a different direction of discovery looking for a short-cut to the chiropractor. Although it was a gentle downhill ride nearly all the way, the knee problem which I’ve had for a while was hurting just a little bit but by the time I reached a stone’s throw from the chiropractic rooms, it was a bit worse.  Thom’s practice (Tom) is on the opposite corner across the road from Stockland and also across from Stockland is a lovely park which I’d never been in even though I’ve lived here for close to 16 years … shame on me!  There are some awesome trees in the park and the one in the photo is huge. I should have parked the trike underneath for comparison but it was too far away to walk to. At a guess, from one side of the branches to the other would have to be at least 25 metres (about 80ft), maybe more, and around 14 metres high (about 45 ft), maybe more.  I thought WOW, this would be great in the back yard – we could fill the branches with swings; you know, have a swing-fest!  

I wanted to go to another park closer to town so went “up and around” to get to the park next to the Council chambers where there are a few of the same kind of tree as that beauty, only not quite as big.  It was here that I decided enough was enough so waited for John’s call  – didn’t have to wait long. Arrived home and used soft ice packs which certainly helped … couldn’t feel a thing afterwards; it was so cold … lovely!  I won’t be riding tomorrow and maybe the next day or the day after that. Moi thinks it would be a good idea to get the knee problem out of the way.  Looking forward to a visit to Thom tomorrow. 

 At Last!                                                               Sunday, 2^nd April, 2023.

It has been a long time coming – almost two years in fact; such was the result of the fall that broke the camel’s back. This morning I went out on my solo journey.  Because there’s a short, very steep street which I have to learn to conquer between our place and Sugarbag Road one day, John loaded the trike and dropped me off at the entrance to Ben Bennett Bushland Park aka Ben Bennett Botanical Park; a 21 hectare piece of bushland sitting next to Caloundra State High School in Sugarbag Road not far  from our place. This ride was done with a little bit of trepidation because of lost confidence from the accident, so was really a confidence-building ride. No doubt the more riding done, the more it’ll grow.

The morning weather was truly beautiful … sunshine, a little cool ... perfect for riding. Entering the Park was a hands-on-the-brakes affair because it’s all downhill. The track is a wide, compacted solid gravel one. Riding very carefully downhill I came to a fork … which way – left or right?  I turned left and found it was even  more downhill – mind you, those hands were on the brakes until it flattened out a bit. 

To say I was enthralled in that bush is an understatement.  The beauty of it with sun shining through trees, sweet-smelling air and birds singing, all made for a magical time. I couldn’t stop smiling. Next visit, I’ll take time to sit and sketch trees and nature in my nature journal. 

The trail led to a concrete path which took me out of the Park and as I explored the surrounding streets including a slow ride through the Farmers’ Markets, ended up on Queen Street which is the extension of Sugarbag Road. I’d done a big circle. Queen Street is on the east side of the Nicklin Way Overpass while Sugarbag Road is on the west side and continues all the way to Caloundra Road. 

It was only a 3.1km ride but because I was somewhere between the pace of a snail and a tortoise, it took about an hour.  After his swim which he does 6 days a week at the beach pool, John and I arranged to pick me up in Queen Street. I would have ridden home except for a knee problem which arose. Talk about falling apart. I’m feeling like John’s car waiting for work to be done on it while in the meantime Gorilla Tape keeps the parts together. When we were passing the park on the way home, a cycle club had arrived to do an orienteering ride.  What fun!  

This afternoon as I write, I feel exhilarated by the ride and am looking forward to tomorrow’s outing if I wake up in time.  This has been my only true exercise in two years and has left me feeling uplifted and quietly excited about future rides.  

On the west side of the Park is the Town Reserve of 49hectares of bush turned into Mountain Bike trails. Last year the council sealed the car park and built a kiosk and toilets. It’s hugely popular with adults and children.  Don’t think I’ll bother though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Healing Time

 

A little bit of an update on the trike accident last year. This is the first time I’ve been up to writing, and without going into detail, I haven’t been on the tricycle since because of difficulties the accident presented.  It’s been a hard slog between x-rays, scans, my beaut doctor, and amazing chiropractor who is still giving me treatments even though the pain has stopped. I am blessed because it could have been far, far worse.

If it doesn’t rain today, I just might get back on the trike and try to gain any semblance of confidence I had before the accident. Riding a trike is different to riding a bike, and when I do gain confidence, I’ll be trying another ride down the driveway.  You heard right … lol. I’ve had two crashes thus far, but the next ride down will be “third time lucky”. It will be a success because John will teach me. Our driveway is about 25degrees steep (watch this space). One just has to rise to challenges because time waits for nobody and I’m not ready to give up.

Madam has a new set of wheels … a wheelchair.  Not being able to walk distances for some years, the new wheels are giving me freedom not experienced for simply ages, and more exercise for John (he goes swimming at King’s Beach pool six mornings a week).  It’s delightful as John pushes me around (hums the music from “Driving Miss Daisy” … how’s that for an earworm?)

I managed to stagger into Stockland  just before last Christmas when one of my girls took me to have toenails trimmed – what a treat!  And yes, for the first time in my life I had nail polish. Afterwards while waiting for her to finish a bit of shopping, an old man came into the shopping centre riding a tricycle the same brand as mine. Did I light up! I thought Woohooo!  (I “Woohooo” a lot). He wasn’t pedaling; just using electrics. I saw him ride into Coles and in a little while he came back out. I thought, “Will I stop him or not”. I did, and said, “I have a trike like yours. Are you allowed in here on it?” He replied that he always comes in to do his shopping.  I left there with a “Yesss!” in my heart and now I see myself doing the same in due course.

“Them in the know” say biking/triking is an excellent exercise for old people. Oh, and the bike shop people tell me that a lot of Seniors are buying trikes. Woohoooo!   Go old people!!

 

I’m not a huge fan of television but I do enjoy certain programmes; usually documentaries and other ‘gentle” shows like “The Yorkshire Vet.”  I take my hat off to veterinarians as they work out what’s wrong with pets brought to their surgeries. Yes, they have equipment to help but they still have to know what they’re doing because animals can’t tell them what’s up.

More often than not I close my eyes when they begin to carve into a creature to remove something or investigate a problem. There’s one particular visit to a farm that intrigues me where both Peter and Julian work on the same cow at the same time – one each side – up to their elbows feeling around inside to see what the cause might be.  They fixed the problem then sewed up the sides of the animal making a little competition of who did the neatest sew. All the while cow stood there without a flinch. Amazing.

Then there are “The Greens”. What an interesting pair. They so love their farm, animals ... and each other.  Mrs Green is never without her vast display of silver bracelets no matter what she’s doing.  At the age Mr Greene is now, and still looking after their few calves, it’s wonderful to see him getting around doing what he does on the farm.

As TV advertisements of mayhem, horror, and pure idiocy invade our living rooms it’s nice to see a gentle programme despite some of the sad outcomes. But that’s life, isn’t it?!