We are already one month down in 2023. I am bidding a hearty welcome to February as the state's school-aged urchins returned to their respective educational facilities yesterday. Frazzled parents can settle back into a routine, new kindy attendees will hopefully keep their wide-eyed innocence for a few years, and the rest of the returning students will be suitably content (or not) with another year's learning ahead of them. Though I must admit, we didn't have many boring moments at Beverley's fabulous Moort Wabiny play space and skate park. This wonderful park, which also boasts free BBQs, water, shade and night illumination was well attended all holidays from littlies right through to twenty-something skateboarders and loads of family groups!
I can't continue without wishing my son Callum and daughter-in-law Bronwyn every success as they return to their teacher positions for 2023. Bron's tenure is only of short duration as she will begin Maternity Leave in two weeks. We will all then be excitingly awaiting Pumpkin's arrival sometime in March. As for Callum, he was champing at the bit to start his new role as Arts Specialist at Ballajura Primary School. Ever the enthusiastic perfectionist, his classroom was all systems GO for yesterday's first day and he had thoroughly enjoyed the staff bonding experience at mini golf. As one of multiple new staff, he will have plenty of camaraderie with them and the remainder of the existing teaching cohort. Just for him, here is my typical subdued and measured reaction - you rock, Cal!
Alex will be honouring us with his presence in Heavenly Beverley, along with Pascal (who will supply the wheels for the expedition) on Saturday week. After years of struggling to procure an innovative, calm and intelligent Support Person/ Guide for Alex, we have hit the jackpot with Pascal. Every Saturday, he and Alex may go on an outing, attend an activity, get some exercise, complete his weekly shopping or assist him with any number of ordinary life issues. That Pascal is a friendly, well spoken and accommodating bloke is the icing on the cake. Alex spent many years surrounded by females and needed a male companion to balance his life. Whoo-hoo for Alex and Pascal!
Michael proved himself to be The Man today. With only some minor direction, he has vacuumed and washed the floors at Station House whilst I opened the Gallery. Plus he has promised to make pizza for dinner to give me a break from the kitchen. Whilst having lunch with me, he made me a cuppa with minimal hinting. Oh my giddy aunt, how wonderful is my husband!
Anyway, I've digressed...What this post was supposed to express was new (and otherwise forgotten) discoveries that still show I have much to learn, which is pretty good as far as I am concerned. Otherwise, I may run out of anecdotes to add to this blog - (highly unlikely, I know.)
And so, in no particular order, here are my latest musings about life, the universe and everything -
- never try to wear a strappy, velcro-attached sandal when one has a foot the size of an elephant's. As I attempted to limp in an attractive, rather than pathetic way, my sandal disengaged from my right foot and flew off at high speed of its own accord.
- better to swallow one's pride and visit the disabled toilets following a knee replacement, rather than believe in the ability to haul one's arse off the seat without railings. I had an unfortunate and painful episode when I was almost marooned in the Ladies Loos at Mundaring Village shopping centre.
- always remember to wear one's glasses when moving around the house which is also home to a geriatric piddling Jack Russell. I don't think I need to embellish the illustration.
- remind one's partner not to leave chocolate within reach of the Kelpie's mouth. This entailed me chasing Stella around the living room this morning to remove a largish chunk of Kit-Kat out of her gob. She was most put out as I retrieved the stolen chocolate and I am convinced she arranged for Pip to wee right in the path of my spectacle-less route to the bin.
- doctor's instructions may be taken with a pinch of salt. On our way home from the Big Smoke yesterday, I took over driving from Michael as he was practically falling asleep. Later, he had a most satisfying nanna nap which revived him enough to stay up after I'd retired to bed and leave chocolate out for Stella...Apparently, I shouldn't be driving until six weeks post op. Yesterday was twenty-three days and I was fine. Just don't tell Kon Kozacs...
- please use my body as a pin-up example of why one shouldn't barbecue oneself as a teenage. Last week involved a six-monthly recheck with the delicious Daram Singh, who uttered those truly tragic words "Down to your bra and knockers, Kate". He then inspected every inch of my wobbly bits and found yet another BCC (basal cell carcinoma) under my hair on my head. A biopsy was swiftly performed and I have to return to our gorgeous skin specialist in March to have more whipped off. Daram cheerfully quipped "Just another one for the collection!"
- don't pass up the opportunity to explore cheaper vino options in Aldi, particularly in the state of pauperdom. Wine is, at times, a tad expensive through the Usual Suspects and Michael had a particularly rewarding excursion whilst I was tackling the horrors of supermarket shopping.
- persevere with one's gut feelings, particularly in relation to health. I understand that we shouldn't rely on Doctor Google implicitly, but knowledge is power and some reputable medical sites do provide good information. Doctor Google helped me to recognise Michael's post operative delirium and more recently, suggested that my disgustingly cracking and peeling feet may be due to Moccasin Tinea. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there is such a condition, and with encouragement from our podiatrist, I no longer use copious volumes of moisturiser with zero effect. Four weeks of over-the-counter tinea cream applied to my soles has transformed my life. No cracks, no peeling, no agony, no misery. May Doctor Google, the universe and our podiatrist Kath all receive my eternal gratitude.
NOT Pip - he never looks guilty!
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