Around the Pins

 This is a swimming pool built around an aquarium. You swim on the outside, the sharks swim on the inside and we all know how wrong that can go. I remember being taken to the aquarium at Sorrento or somewhere down there, I was young and impressionable.  I was standing close to the glass fascinated at being so close to live fish, I never saw the shark coming until it was practically cruising through one ear and out the other. And all that stuff they tell you about, like banging it on the nose, shoving a finger in its eye to save yourself, forget it. I went straight to freeze mode and I still do that at the beach if a piece of seaweed touches me. And it looks a bit deep and dark in that pool, on  the fish side, I have no idea what's around the corner where the light is coming from, hopefully a floating bar with a G&T.

 Now I'm down sizing myself here from the grand to the minute, I mean I still want the big conservatory out the front of the house but this would be just perfect to extend from the kitchen as a breakfast nook. I'd ditch the greenery, can't see the birds feeding but I could make that into padded seats  with tables in fronts. I hate the stupid little light though, ruins the atmosphere of luxury.

 I'll have something like this, pretty in the sunlight and gorgeous lit up on a dull day. River, it's high up, no-one will ever see the dust for a couple of years at least.

Now, in the golden days of blogging, we did have food blogs. Great cooks making up meals for the family, and if we were lucky a photograph of the actual dish not photoshopped into perfection.  This was before everyone had a phone and tweeted every cup of coffee and muffin they scoffed at "this divine little place hidden down a back lane".  Pinterest cake boards are a world on their own, kilojoules leap from the screen and grab you by the throat before you have time to click out.  Even I, the cake queen, could not contemplate eating this monstrosity. It's a Neapoliton chocolate chip cookie cake and it has 47 ounces (don't ask me to convert it, I'll hurt you) of sugar in it. That isn't cream between the layers, it's sugar icing cream and I've never seen pink choc chips before and hope never to again. I almost went on a diet when I saw this.  Next time some person whines about what we eat I'll whip up a batch of wholemeal scones, unadulterated cream (not squirted out of a can) and homemade jam and make a real leaf pot of tea and enjoy it.
Don't ask about mother.

They say time flies but does it have to pretend it's a Concord?

Hello River, you wanted a photo of my new hair cut and here it is and don't think I don't look like this before I've had my morning coffee, a pee and kicked the cat out for his.

I can't believe how long it is since I blogged and so much to blog about but one must be careful these days what with ASIO listening and reading every nasty comment about the authors of that stinking budget. Do you realize they will be the only people in Australia with a confirmed job til the end of their 70 years considering the number of blogs, twitter and facebook abusing this heartless government.
My sister is coming up to retirement after 38 years of nursing, 12 months to go, 12 months of pain in knee joints, back and spine. She's looking forward to the day she doesn't have to deal with death and relatives and can spend hours with books and her garden.  If they do anything to her 'Super' then she's leaving immediately and hiding the whole lot under the bed.

Also, Science, forget anything to do with science especially stem cell research or environmental research or anything else biological.  We are in the hands of the Flat Earth Society.  Even my beloved Synchrotron only has funding for two years.  Scientists have just used this marvel to develop a test for Malaria, a disease which kills over a million people a year of the 300 million infected world wide. I'll do another post on this later.

Besides abusing politicians, I've been throwing out more stuff.  Lovely to see 4 big bags of clothes go to charity the other day.  Not mine, I'm still wearing my rags but the BOH has not worn these for two years, wouldn't know what was there and what was would be far too small for him now. I left his best clothes packed, it's handy for his birthday as I just pick out something and wrap it up. His doona covers and new towells so we're down to just 3 packed bags.  All I have to do now is move a tonne of books, shift that huge picture frame and I can get down the hallway. There are about 100 videos needing to be tossed out, just the videos not the covers, I use those to keep my documentaries in.

I had a list of what needed to be done in each room, it was overwhelming for someone allergic to housework.  So I broke it into small lots, still overwhelming. It's now down to clean that 25cm piece of shelf, hang up 3 dresses and put 10 books away. I'm also going through magazines and only keeping the articles I want.  I think to date I've ditched about 80 craft magazines and I know they should have gone to the op shop but heavy, as in weighing a elephant and I don't drive so I clenched my jaw and tossed the lot but keep the patterns and a folder with good stuff. Don't ask about the garden.

What with mother, chucking out, cleaning (some) washing, and swearing at politicians (bastards) it has been tiring.  How tiring you ask?  Try sitting at the computer to have a luxury half hour at Pinterest and wake up an hour later with the computer keyboard stamped on your forehead.  Hmmm, Pinterest, maybe just for a while before I start moving books and picture frames, I mean they're not going anywhere.

If you...

...didn't laugh out loud at this, then you're in serious need of therapy.  I'm still laughing and I think I'll have to put it on the fridge door for the morning blues.

It's all gone now.

This could have been me 20 years ago.  I had this much hair and I wore it like this with jewelled combs and I dyed it bright Titian red.  I loved my hair when I went red, I felt as though I had become the real me.  No more now, still red, I mean I couldn't  do that to myself but as I walked to the home I detoured through the hairdresser's I've been passing for the last four years.
Nice bloke, nearly choked when he asked how long since I'd had a cut and I said 1975.  He kept asking if I was sure I wanted to do this before the scissors went to work.
It was time.  The last 4 years of stress, medications and ageing has taken its toll of the long and once lustrous locks.  I was finding it harder and harder to colour, wash and bung the whole lot in rollers.  If I didn't do the rollers, it was 'Sideshow Bob' all the way. 
He did ask if I wanted the ponytail to take with me.  Lordy no, it looked dead, lifeless, ratty as though a kid had had enough of luxury Barbie and decided to become a shearer for the day.
I thought I might have some regrets but not a jot, I'm starting a new life albeit in the same old fat body but the hair feels just right.
Mother approved, said I looked younger.

It's mine

Okay so I have Champagne tastes on beer money.  I want this at the front of my house.  I have the room and it would annoy the neighbours so much.  Neighbours who stuffed things in my garbage bin again yesterday when it was already so full, I wondered if the truck would lift it. Idiots.  I'll have it in a lighter colour, not white, perhaps buff and some leadlight, Tiffany style.  All the other conservatories I have in my wish book don't have the gorgeous glass cupola which will take a whopping great chandelier. It won't get hot and won't get cold, I'll invest in triple glazing.  Thank goodness I've finished posting, now I can get on with the Chandelier search.

Continued from down there

This is such a brilliant idea for clutz handed people like me who always manages to pour the hot water in the cup and take the teabag label to the bottom.  And on the subject, memo to cafes who provide straws for bottled drinks, make sure the straw stays above the height of the bottle.  I looked so ladylike last week as I had to try to scrabble for the disappearing straw but gave up and had to drink straight from the bottle.  I couldn't even hide, not sitting in the front window providing amusement to the passing trade.

And I still have one more image because I was keeping the best until last and blogger won't load it.
Okay I give up and will post it later.

Hell week.

It's been a bit of a monster week.  I've fallen asleep in the chair twice and woken up with my head on the computer keyboard and an hour missing.  Once more Lazarus has arisen but she can only make so many comebacks.  So I'm posting all the photos I was saving up for a week.  That portrait of a white cat by Kate Pugsley could really be the Ice Bear. He's not smiling, he's disapproving of my leaving and coming home well after his tea time and cutting down his outside time in the dark not to mention going to sleep in the chair when it's his time to have it.

And for the Fenstar Deluxe, this yummy corset which would look good in any colour but the racy purple looks so luxurius. 

Miss O'Dyne alerted me to this wow bed. That's not a painting above but a real aquarium. How relaxing to lie there and count fish until you fell asleep but with all aquariums it would be a real swine to clean.  I get up enough during the night now without fish sloshing about and making water music but it does look great.

And being on the subject of water, my dream bath. It has steps and I'm sure putting in handrails wouldn't take away from the loveliness. I don't like the look of the tap so handrails and taps will be gold plated and spa jets installed. It's a bit closed in so it will have to have window looking out to a small enclosed courtyard. This really looks like a renovated cellar but I've never found another bath that had the steps I've always wanted.

No, it's not a pool, not water but stained concrete with a polished surface.  American, of course, and it comes in several colours which look like marble.  I need this for my laundry. Stupid ex never fixed the dripping hot water hose to the washing machine and it was only a tiny drip but over months it managed to get in under the cork tiles and saturate the concrete. I managed to chip up the wet tiles but the dry tiles defeated me.  I need a strong man with a big sander to get it all back to the base. I was only going to paint it then with pavement paint but I so love this look but I want it in pink marble finish. Every time I looked at this colour I'd want to pee.
Damn, blogger won't load my last two images so continued above.

Those were the days

I've been tidying and throwning out and if the bin inspectors take a look next garbage day, I'm blaming it all on the BOH.  Anyway I found a folder way back in the bottom drawer and I've been laughing for the last half hour.  Remember the good old days when computers were things of wonder and blogs were a joy to read before Facebook came and turned brains into jelly?  Nothing like a good cup of coffee and the daily email meme to start the day.
This meme has a date of Monday, 25 October, 2004.  Only the name has been changed of the retired subject.

LIE CLOCK

A man died and went to heaven.
As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him. 
He asked, "What are all those clocks?"
St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks.  Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move."
"Oh," said the man, "Whose clock is that?"
"That's Mother Teresa's, The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie."
"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"
St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock.  The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."
"Where's Tony Abbot's?" asked the man.

"Tony's clock is in Jesus' office.  He's using it as a ceiling fan." 

It just goes to show that a good meme never dies, it's just recycled as required.

On my want list

 Dale Chiluly is a remarkable glass artist and lucky Elephant's Child saw some of his work at the Australian National Gallery.  This is a pool and his glass shapes are encased on the bottom with one of his marvellous chandeliers lighting up the water from above.  It would have cost me US$1.7 million in 2010 so it's going to be on the want list for quite some time. 

But this is just my all time want want want pool.  When I get old I can even just run the wheel chair straight in.  No steps, just a quick stroll to the deep end and swim.  I don't care what the cost, this is the pool I want in my backyard, after I buy out the neighbours.

In the eye of the beholder

Lisa Fonssagrives (1911-92) was one of the most photographed models of the 1950s.  Born in Sweden and trained as a ballet dancer, she had every fashion photographer singing her praises and even married one, Irving Penn.  She was featured on the cover of Time magazine but in the article she was quoted as saying, "It is always the dress, it is never the girl, I'm just a good clothes hanger."
As for the figure, she maintained it by eating little and often, up to ten meals a day.  But a meal to her might mean 6 grapes, a single slice of cheese, one cracker and half a glass of wine. Always eating, but never anything much, was her motto.
In the last photo she does look very slim but it's hard to tell what's really underneath the big gowns or pencil skirts since the underpinnings were stiff bras and tight girdles.
Did she really look like this?

Cassie Van den Dungen copped a blast at Fashion Week when wearing this outfit.  She was miffed and said if she called someone fat and why don't you lose weight and they were upset, why was it so different to her being called thin and put on some weight.  Well, thin is not a word I'd use here and fat as I am, I'm not jealous of this figure.  Cassie even instagrammed (?) the food on her plate which might have been more believable if she'd put herself on YouTube actually eating the food.
My point is that Lisa might have been a great clothes hanger but Cassie is a coat hook.

A flash outfit for a DeLuxe Star

Now I can just see this outfit on Fenstar along with the matching Converse sneakers. I know where to buy a swell dress to go with this divine corset.  
 
 

And I found the perfect motto  for us.

Never forget, we deserve the best.

I'm getting too old to dream

If I have one fetish about shoes, it's bows. Bows on the back, the sides, the front or tied around the ankles.  I've just been looking at 1970s shoes, no bows just horrible clunks and I lived through that era so I went looking for something to soothe the blistered eyes.  Herewith....

These just made my eyes water.  They must be kidding, no-one could possibly walk with these on.  I mean there's nothing to keep the feet in the shoes for a start except maybe glue.  As for walking, how about little tiny wheels or ball bearings hidden in the heel and the sole and one just glides along.
 
 

 This was better, it has a bow and it's Valentino and I love the colour and I have absolutely no idea how you get the things on the feet and up the legs.  There might be a zip on the inside but I can't see dear Valentino wrecking the look of his fancy boot with a zip.  It must be very soft leather and just a pull up does the trick.  Unfortunately with my funny fat legs, I'd have to use a bullock hide for each leg so there goes another fashion dream.

Well, ladies, it all comes down to this. Peacock painted Converse sneakers, they look divine, we couldn't possibly fall off them and since they come in man size, they'll fit.  I could always stick a little sparkly peacock jewell or three on the canvas and you know where the bow part comes in.  I wonder if they make gold laces?

For the birds

At last I remembered to put the camera in my bag when I left this morning.  I didn't even notice 10 or 12 of these when I opened the front gate until one squarked. They didn't fly away, far too busy chewing through the berries of the Cotoneaster tree. I think it's a Corella but you know I can't tell one bird from another unless it's Magpie.  And did the Bear wander out to look when I opened the front door, not him. Sound asleep on the chair so I turfed him out before it gets too dark and when the mob took off so did he.  He prefers his birds smaller and in packs of one.  I finally got some great photos though.
UPDATE
When I arrived home last night, some busybody had tied plastic bags in the tree on my property to keep the birds away. So the ground and footpath was a mess but it was my mess and I was looking forward to another sit in my chair outside to de-stress. I don't know who but I have suspicions.

Pause and check.

Pretty isn't it. I loved it as soon as I saw it. I could see it on my new dress and I already have the earrings to match. Of course I have earrings, overflowing with earrings, very glad I don't have to answer to anyone about my earring stash.  Still if I have to wear granny boots then I must compensate at the other end.  Now, the brooch, inexpensive and pretty as I said but next time before I push the buy button, I really must check to see if the measurements are in inches or centimetres.  I thought 6cm was a nice length but it turns out that 6 inches measures 8.5 cm and the length is 15 cm and that 6 inches was the diameter of the round part.  Man, that is big and it's not like I don't have the superstructure to support it buuutt, big.  Length is not a problem, I'll remove the drop and hang it from a gold bow or put it on a chain.  The big round bit could become the centrepiece of a rose satin cushion and I might just break out the antique expensive lace. Whatever, it will be a nice surprise when it arrives.  Serves me right for messing about when I was tired.

I also have a new car in the drive.  Damn that kid is good with fixing cars. The Audi with the smashed in boot is now a gem, only waiting for its onboard computer to be fixed and it's his, sun roof and all. Now for himnextdoor to stickybeak through the gate and come asking questions, it won't be long, the suspense will be killing him. 

April, 7th day

I've sliced the top off my finger and I'll tell you, my blood flows freely and a lot of it went.  Murphy's Law, you always cut something with a new knife, usually a body part instead of a vegetable.

Mother lives another week. Lord knows what's going through her veins but a street corner dealer would retire a millionaire if he could sell it.  Something has changed in her though, realization that all good things do end and so she has had me buying Christmas presents in case she is not here to hand them out.  Good thing Bevilles was having a going out of business sale and I saved a lot of money and nearly killed myself.  Going down an escalator at any time is a hazard but carrying heavy parcels is deadly. I almost fell thanks to gravity and I didn't really want to fall on the nice lady I let go in front of me but it was close.  Of course there mustn't be any giving of gifts down at the Home, no favouritism, hell to that. Two ladies that have been looking after her very well for the last 4 years deserve more than a thank you from me and the old girl loves giving presents.  She's not being taken advantage of and it's not like I don't know what's happening but discretion is best.

Another little goodie for the garden. So cute and easy and wouldn't they be great painted with the luminous paint and stuck around the plants.  All I need are wire coathangers and the BOH with his strong hands to do the roundy bits and solder the antenae on.  Even better to have a line of them going up a brick wall.

From snails to serious.  I believe my granddaughters are coming down for a big family reunion at Easter.  I haven't been told as usual but it doesn't worry me, their family is huge and by the time they catch up with everyone, I'm happy to get a phone call.  I'm changing my will again.  One thing I do know is that my ex daughter-in-law is mixed up with a dubious Church, cult type not Catholic but something called the Christian Church of the do gooders but definitely not mainstream. My main aim in life has always been to outlive the Bitch Queen of the Universe and it was looking good there for a while as she was over in Africa building houses for poor people but she's back.  Wouldn't you have thought there'd be one hungry lion or angry hippo looking for a snack.  So changing the will has been on my mind since youngest granddaughter is still living at home under the influence of QB who has sent her off twice to missionary around Fiji.  So in order to thwart the Mistress of Greed, I've decided to leave the house to my sister to live in for her lifetime if anything happens to me before anything happens to her (sister).  The girls can have any money, my jewells and any or all of my collected crap in the house but they can't get their hands on the big money which is in the land and the house which leaves their mother up a creek without a paddle in a barbed wire canoe.  That decision left everyone in our little family group very happy not as happy as a well fed lion would have made us but life isn't meant to be easy.

 

April, lst day.

This is what you get when you need cake, tea and sympathy and can't be bothered waiting for the kettle to boil. I could really kill a cake right now but I'll make do with the Gin.
CT scanner is whizbang but I must remember to not take off my glasses until I'm on the bed. All white room and fuzzy eyesight makes me dizzy to the max.
Catch a cab to mother.  Mother looks terrible, eyes glazed which is good.  Sister says look out for glistening bright eyes, last gasp apparently.  Anyway we nearly lost her again last night which makes 3 times in the last 5 weeks.  Bitches on night duty did not answer her bell when she woke up and couldn't breath. She kept ringing, they kept ignoring. Then she had the bright idea to ring me so I could come and sit with her while she died.  "Shit, Ma you know I can't ride the broom at night"  If she had rang and after I had recovered from the heart attack, I would have rung the nurses' station at the Home and everybody would have been awake.  I can scream very loudly over a phone.  Fortunately the early morning nurse came in and she is of the old school and did she take charge. Ventilator, cold towells, ice and then oxygen and mother's colour came down from violent Puce to pale violet.  Doc Marvin was rung at 7.45 and he came in about l p.m. to check her out, not that he needed a stethoscope to listen to the rasping breath.  He's ordered more antibiotics but he knows, I know and my sister knows, it's palliative and it's slow.
Doc Marvin had words.  I bet he has more tomorrow.  He'll have my results from the CT scan but anything showing will have to be put on hold for the moment and I'm going to have to sleep with the mobile by the bed and broom at the ready.

Taking my mind off things.

 

Now there's no chance that I could ever have fish except plastic ones. I'm the one who can kill cactus, remember, but I could sit all day and watch them scoot through this fantastic Grand Prix of a fish tank.  Up, down and around, how great would that be instead of just going from side to side.  I find watching fish very soothing, almost to the point of going comatose but this would be just the opposite. 

And for all the cat lovers, a bun bed to keep the beasts warm.  Do the clicky thing to get the full delight of these ningnongs playing hamburgers.

And just for River, I found a Purple double Dature flower.

Now I have no idea what this bird is called except fashionable enough to wander the Flemington paddock on any race day.   The whole outfit could go straight on to some beanpole model and be a winner.  If it didn't have that bug in its mouth the expression would be sheer "Le Louvre".

I'm just passing time until tomorrow when I have to have a CT scan on whatever is growing in my sinus cavity and depending on how big it is, followed by an appointment with a specialist followed by surgery or non-surgery.   Non-surgery in my book.  After the scan I have to get my eyes tested just to make sure the dizziness is not related to them although I think my glasses are the cause of the non-focus. They haven't been the same since I sat on them and the arms ended up pointing in different directions.

I have an opinion and too bad if you don't like it !!!!

Isn't he cute. Michael Kutsche's concept of a squirrel for the Disney movie of The Great Oz.

Now that the sweetness is over, down to business.

Rabid Abbott is bringing back Knighthoods and Dames for exceptional Australians.  Dear Goddess I almost lost lunch and last week's breakfast.  All I could see in front of me was Sir John Howard and Dame Outback Mining Queen.
But now I can say what I like about the big earred creep because George Brandies (not a typo) says I can.  I am allowed to be a bigot, swear at people and call them names.  It's free speech.  Good one George, take a knighthood for farnarkling.  As for big ears, I unavoidably was listening to him last night and so help me, I could have sworn I was listening to J. H. Smallperson.  I can say that, free speech, remember.

The search for the plane is off because of the weather.  Lots of weird going around about that plane.  It takes an Orion 4 hours flying to the search area, two hours of search then 4 hours flying back.  So whoever directed the pilot into the Southern Indian Ocean was not intending to return.  Why aren't they using drones to skim the waves? Oh sorry, drones are only for hunting and killing.

And Craig Thompson, friend and champagne deliverer to call girls everywhere is miffed that the legal system might actually work and dump him in jail.  Don't worry Craig, hopefully the member for Frankston will soon be joining you. Of course you might get a knighthood for your tireless efforts to get those working girls off the street and into your bed. 

Don't ask about mother.

She's chipper, the old girl.

22nd of March, just past an Equinox, heading for Easter and she's still with us.  My eyeballs are typing this as I am tired and they keep falling out if I don't keep my eyelids shut.  This always happens, she gets crook, I run around in circles and she gets better, I have a meltdown.  I was supposed to go today but I had several accidents before I managed breakfast so I thought it might be better if I didn't go anywhere near traffic, the house is dangerous enough.
Her BGL is still all over the place even with slow release insulin but the cellulitis is back in the calf where it lives just waiting for the next break out.
The new lot in charge are finally looking to me for information about the old girl, it's gotten through their thick heads that just because I don't have a certificate on a wall doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about.  If I can talk for 15 minutes to Professor Thompson and his group of students at the Alfred without being considered an idiot then I should be able to discuss with them at the Home, mum and all her history.
And I'm certain they have the room bugged.  My ragings about the food seem to have hit home. The "Cook" is still serving up stew but this week it was chicken not beef although mum says it was a kindness to have put the geriatric chook out of its misery.  She's missing cake but I've made sure that everything coming in is sugar free and I still refuse to sign the food register.  If she gets sick they can blame the Swill shoveller in the kitchen except for Sunday and Monday when the Chef is on and he cooks real food. The outside bins are never full when R cooks.
I have managed to cut out five winter dresses and two autumn dresses.  It was fine while I was cutting out but I didn't realise how far I was stretching across the bed to do it.  When I tried to get out of bed the next morning, every muscle in my back and legs told me to piss off and went back to bed, leaving me standing without support.  It took an hour under hot water in the shower for the pain to ease off and I would have stayed longer but I could feel the water cooling.
I can't remember how long it is since I had a new dress to wear.  Now for a couple of winter nighties and a new dressing gown. I have a thick fleecy fabric in off white and I don't think I want to wear that in the street as a dress. I can almost hear Captain Ahab creeping up behind me with a harpoon.
And cross fingers, I think the dvd viewer has come good.  I have the new phones, still can only turn them on and off.  With all the fuss and bother of the last few weeks I haven't looked into the computer situation.  And can't figure out if I'm in trouble now that Microsoft is going to stop supporting XP if I'm running FireFox.  Thank goodness I don't own an iPhone.
Now I'm going to have a treat. Cafe style fruit loaf and lovely hot coffee. I really deserve it.

Still here.

I'm still coughing but not as much, nose is almost clear and the headache is gone.  I'm certainly going for the flu jab as soon as possible.  I know is doesn't stop the flu but it does calm it down a bit and it's worse than a cold virus. 
Mother was glad to see me. She is going downhill slowly but surely and there's nothing we can do. She's quite cheerful and the mind is still okay.  After the Saturday night when even she thought she was going to die, Doc Marvin has keep a close eye on her.  Now every carer and nurse in the place knows if the paperwork for her is not up to date when he comes in, whatever time or day then they are going to get a mouthful. 
I expect to get a mouthful myself after this weekend of being extremely rude about the running of the kitchen and the quality of the food. Mother's glucose and insulin is still not stable but it doesn't matter to the kitchen. Charcoal toast and cold lunches for the past three days and my sister witnessed this as did I.  
So when I went to see her yesterday, I ordered a toasted ham and cheese sandwich for her lunch just in case she got another load of swill. I had coffee, walked through Mentone, walked through Coles then to the Home.  The sandwich was still warm when I opened it and Mum shared hers with another resident and they both said the same thing, cold lunch. It would only be 5 minutes from the kitchen to mum's room so the plate is obviously not warm to start with. It was 10 minutes before I got a word out of either of them as they drooled their way through that damn sandwich. The tea boy was berated by all when he came to remove the dishes and since he's a little squealer, it'll be on my head.  I have already threatened them with the Dept of Aged Care so now is the time to be very quiet and let them wait for the other boot to fall.

The Arfur Daley car yard is reducing its stock. The wheeler and dealer has sold the Kombi on ebay and it's going  Tuesday. The buyer wanted to know if he could drive it home so it went round the block this morning, puffing smoke but otherwise going like a dream. I had to laugh though, he had his mate with him and all I could think of was Ratty and Mole from The Wind in the Willows.  The nephew is 6'4" and the mate is about 4'6" and all I could see of him in the van were his eyes and a hat.  So I still have a '64 no wheels Falcon, a VW soft top and a black Datsun which will be sold as soon as it's turbo tuned.  This turn-around is all due to the fact that he has now bought an Audi, front in perfect condition, engine magnificent but no boot where it was rear ended.  The owner, when told the fix-up price just said forget it, the wheeler and dealer offered him cash and it was his.  He just happened to have the back end of an Audi in perfect condition on hand.   I sat through 30 photos of the ins and outs of an Audi and I have to admit it's in beautiful condition inside. Cream leather and wood trim with all the bells and whistles and a very clean engine.   When he finishes with it, it'll be perfect. 

And a big thank you to Miss O'Dyne again who told me about the trick of putting a small pipe on the tap handle to make it turn easily.  He's doing that for me next week in the usual barter for car rent space.  I just cannot grasp the tap hard enough to turn it on or turn it off so I've always got the hoses wrapped around  trees for the leaks I can't help.  He came in last week and opened up all the jars I had lined along the bench. I'd already hacked off the lid of the vegemite jar.
And wonderful in the storm last night, Mick the tree lopper had cleaned the spouting so well, I only had half a bucket of water to put on the plants.