Wednesday, October 16, 2013

While I was walking

Yes, me walking to the bus and thinking. Kind neighbour asking if I wanted a lift when I was practically on the bus stop, thank you not since you passed me leaving home and then 20 mins away from the bus. Where was I, ah thinking and I don't think well on my feet but this was good. I've been looking at treadmills, go on, roll around screaming with laughter, but all of them are too big for the small space I have left. I'm still the custodian of BOH's furniture, clothes and kitchen stuff so there's only one small part of the study and these damn machines don't look big until you get one in the house. What I need is a walking treadmill, no running room because there's no way I'll run anytime soon, but a small square walk pad, handles and simple control, 2 speeds, walk and crawl.
Why hasn't someone thought of this for old people, fat people and people who fall over gumnuts on footpaths? If I buy a treadmill, it's weight has to go up to 150kgs which I think is dumb because that's for running, I'm thinking crawl here and they're damned expensive. I don't need an incline button, I don't need a clock ticking away my heart attack only two handrests so I don't fall off and a square foot pad. I could do 30 mins 3 times a day just doing a slow walk and put in optional extra, a book rest. All this thinking and I didn't fall over once.

I haven't walked to the bus in quite some time and it was interesting to see changes. Little house on the corner just sold for $600,000, not much room on the block, corner block though and only 3 bedrooms and one bathroom. First owner was one of those manic house proud lunatics who laid the breakfast table before going to bed at night and threw the kids out of bed at dawn to have the bedrooms perfect before the school run. No lace curtains, just drapes pulled back to show the immaculate housekeeping. Bitch. I had photos on the blog somewhere showing the fantastic Wisteria over the arched front gate which the current owners have cut down.  Speaking of Wisteria, I left my camera at home as usual and I came across another lych gate with Pink Wisteria. I've never seen Pink Wisteria before only the purple stuff. I defer to River and Elephant's Child to tell me that it really exists. It means another walk with the camera to catch it but considering the wind today there'll be no blossoms left this week.

So around the corner from the white house, the storm had brought down a branch from a flowering gum. This tree was in a garden and it's been there for over 40 years but one branch and it wasn't a big branch considering the tree, knocked out the corner of two houses. Tiles off and guttering down and both over bedrooms, didn't take down the fence but cracked off the wood in places. When it flowers it's always full of lorikeets and I used to stop and watch them, up close and personal.
Around the next corner and another house sold. Almost the same layout as mine but on a slightly bigger block and has a garage, no garden (at least I have ivy) $664,000 for this one. I hope the ex trawls the home sale pages and sees these.

And the bus, another sadist driver not dropping the door but enjoyed watching me do Tarzan to get in. Myki wasn't working as usual, at the front, so I made sure I exited the same way and didn't pay.
Next driver was kinder and edged the bus right up to the footpath in Mentone, so much better but my knees still felt like they'd been struck with hammers.  Then I caught my arm in the handle of the door to the surgery and nearly broke it when the door slammed shut. Don't ask me how it happened, I was in too much other pain to notice.  Doc Marvin is satisfied with BGL, much better than last year.  If I go off the blood pressure and diabetic pills, nothing will happen now but maybe a stroke in a few years. I asked if that would happen before the heart attack and breakdown and he thought maybe all at once knowing how I never do things by halves. He did explain why the Diabetes mob continue to change the rules. They take a control group and study them, usually a mixture of good and bad conditions then make changes. Shame my diabetes educator doesn't read the memos about one size not fitting all and listens to me instead of talking at me. Bloody Doc is still laughing at her not knowing the difference between non-alcoholic ginger beer and writing me up as a drunk.

I ended the day with mother, again, still, evermore.


Elephant's Child said...

Oh how I hear you on the bus front. I am tall, but my legs are even more recalcitrant (yes it is possible) than my brain. And somedays getting aboard is like climbing Everest. Hiss and spit.
And yes, there is indeed a pink wisteria. I don't know why it isn't more common - it is really pretty.
I do envy you Doc Marvin. A real find.

River said...

I like your small walker treadie idea very much, I'd buy one! Perhaps we should start asking around at gym equipment places until they realise there is a need and get busy inventing one.
I've only seen a pink wisteria once, purple is much more common, but there is also a white which I really like but have been unable to grow. Tried twice and they died.
Doc Marvin is a treasure.

JahTeh said...

EC, all they have to do is press a button but they'd rather watch and getting off is worse. I couldn't believe the delicate colour of that pink Wisteria, it stopped me in my tracks.

River, don't they realize there's a market for this for decrepit oldies? I'd love to go into Rebel Sports and ask but they might talk me into buying the expensive one. For diabetics who have to walk it would be terrific.
I didn't even know there was a white one, I've only ever seen the purple.

R.H. said...

A bloke I worked with at Eyelets, Prahran (most boring job I've ever had) drank alcoholic cider and was permanently half pissed. One time he sent his wife out to get a couple of bottles and was well into it before he realised it was non alcoholic. The way he told me about it he was indignant rather than angry.

R.H. said...

Google Eyelets Prahran and there's a photo of the rotten place.
A notorious little scrag with a lisp sent me there from Prahran Employment Office and if I could find her now I'd land her an almighty kick up the arse.

R.H. said...

I've been enquiring on the hot market for one of those walk machines, seems none of the boys have ever bothered to knock one off, if it was a car I could get it for you.

JahTeh said...

Rh, you've had an interesting life. If you write a book I'll buy it.

JahTeh said...

Now that Chopper's dead someone has to pick up the pen.

R.H. said...

Well my main failure is I've never killed anyone. I almost did once but the bullet jammed as I loaded it (single shot .22) and the bastard got away. Chopper only killed one person and it was self defence, and he was just lucky to be carrying a sawn off shotty in the back of his pants. He was an old Prahran boy, same as me, we went to the local Try Boy's Club, but years apart. They called it The Narrows where I grew up because the streets were that way. My street was the smallest, narrowest: four little houses and a lolly factory. It was poverty, slumtown: good family men on shit wages, plus drunkards; petty crooks. People think the slums do cause crime and they're right, but it's a mixture. I've got a dimwit niece lecturing in social work. She can't decide between nature and nuture: what makes a criminal, is it genes or upbringing?
It's genes. The priveleged swindle companies the poor rob banks.

Growing up in shit is an unhappy start. You see Chopper and he's laughing all the time.

It wasn't him.

Chopper was heartbroken, a sad clown.

R.H. said...

Sixty Minutes last night and Chopper gives an interview. Lots of ads. I don't know how much dough he got but he had to make it good. The funniest part was his claim to have hung a pedophile in the pedo's cell. Oh yes? Screws unlock the door next morning and the bloke's dead. Hell, if Chopper could unlock cell doors (including his own) do a bloke in then lock up again maybe he ain't even dead.

R.H. said...

I don't know why, but here's this:

Hi, this is Robert, back from the tropics. I fly Tigerair and stay at the Cairns Heritage Hotel. I drive a Budget rental car. I dine at Byblos Cafe, corner of Sheridan and Minnie streets. Mine host is a double for Fred Mercury. He hails me as I slouch past: 7 am. An hour later I dine there, with consort as a statement.

Fred is a Muslim; I heard him mention Ramadan. His waitress is wild, bra straps showing. "He's a queer," she said, meaning Fred.

OH!- how forthright they are, these birdies in Queensland!

R.H. said...

Don't want to upset you but last night I got a packet of six fruit mince pies from Coles: marked down for quick sale, $1.35, 70% off.

I've eaten three.

R.H. said...

I've been going through your archives, laughing and being amazed at my comments. But really, pondering whether any are worth putting in my memoirs. That's how I spotted Fred. The experience was a year ago. but on this year's trip to Cairns I found his cafe empty, vacated. I was horrified. Well I assumed he'd given the cafe game away, altogether. But later to my absolute delight I found a new Byblos, right in the town centre. And there was Fred, at attention behind the counter, as if waiting for me. It's a bigger joint, more chairs and tables (but no sign of the blonde. I wanted to ask but discretion won out). Well darlings the new Fred's is on a corner, right opposite the CES. That's where I parked, and a big abo women scowled at me as I got out of the car. I had a bad feeling she might kick it when I'd gone. I was glad it was rented.

-Best bacon and eggs in Australia: Byblos Cafe, Cairns, Queensland.

JahTeh said...

Rochester, I can always count on you to pick up the slack when I'm feeling too shabby to crawl out from under the bed.

I love mince pies, with proper rich cream on top. Heston's hidden orange pudding looks okay but I bet it's a lovely price.

R.H. said...


Meanwhile if you google byblos cafe the next site down features reviews of Byblos by various patrons (
I was appalled by the opinions so added my own and I'm astonished they accepted it; I've been banned for less.

R.H. said...

Ps: I rated it five stars for food, service, etc, but only four for atmosphere because blondie was missing.

R.H. said...

We seem to have reached a little interval here, and so for no reason I can think of (apart from fed up with everything) I express what's on my mind right now. And really, I don't care what's thought of it.
When I was a boy on the flatlands of Prahran our little gang sometimes wandered up into the hills among the wide streets and mansions around Toorak and there was one place we knew about with its iron gates always open where we could watch little fish swimming around a pond in the front garden. These places were magnificent, beautiful, yet we gave no thought at all as to why we ourselves lived in squalor. Even in later life I was never envious, just enormously curious, that's all, about these wealthy people. They are just not like us, have no idea of us. Nor we of them.