keeping the home fires burning.

firewood

Friday.

It was all go today. HAHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahaha.

We had a local supplier deliver a half yard of fire wood. High excitement. We didn’t have to buy wood last winter as our neighbour had chopped down a tree and gave us the wood, plus we gathered wood from our own garden, but supplies have run low for now and so a half yard of wood was the order.

The previous owners built a little raised hide for the wood, so hopefully there won’t be any snakes in this wood pile!

So we have a lovely warm fire heating the house tonight. I never get tired of sitting and watching the flames flicker and flare. Very meditative.

Holiday – one week down, one to go.

swollen bits, annoying medical matters and conversational meows

female remedy

Thursday.

More dressing, more hair combing. What is the use of burying oneself in the country if one must keep being civilised?

Drove with Mr FD to his periodontist in the hope he could relieve Mr FD’s continuing post wisdom teeth removal agony. No sympathy, no help. Periodontist is now top of the Stick List.

Visit to pharmacy who did not have adequate supplies in stock of very common medications. Not the first time this has happened. Have to return tomorrow to collect remainder of medication. ANNOYED.

Home. Headache remains, swollen and very painful glands along jaw and in neck. Is it Ebola?

In bed, bright red heat bag wrapped around neck for comfort, except it isn’t comforting. Have cancelled intended visit by Daughter1 and Petite Fille in case something infectious. Had to settle for conversation over phone, “What does a pussy cat say?” “Meow” [I ask the question, Petite Fille says the Meow. How could you think otherwise?]

The Big Whatever is still not playing fair, but does the Big Whatever ever play fair?

And on the fourth day…

pjs Ann Sheridan

Tuesday.

To the City. Had to brush hair. No brass band.

Seafood chowder. Ate medium sized bowl for lunch and BIG BOWL for dinner. Replete with seafood chowder.

Fresh pyjamas. Back to bed. Reading third title, Champion in Marie Lu’s Legend series. Fifth book in four days.

Tomorrow, rumours of another pyjama bed day.

Holidays, got to love them.

I, i , me,

pjs bed

 

Monday.

I have just arrived at the realisation that I am perhaps the only person in the world who  is totally glamorous sitting in bed wearing flannelette pyjamas topped by a head of extreme bed hair.

I read book 2 and 3 in Veronica Roth’s Divergent series over the weekend. Since becoming a Teacher Librarian I have developed quite a pleasure in reading YA fiction. YA fiction doesn’t have all the gratuitous language, violence and sex that adds nothing to the story in adult fiction. I love anything John Green writes, and enjoyed The Hunger Games series. Twilight had a hook, but was so poorly written that the editors should have been shot.

I diverge from Divergent. Miss Roth has a great hook, an interesting story line, but almost lost me with the numerous fight scenes in the first book. I suspect it was written with more than an eye on the making of a movie. Book 2 was more enjoyable in many ways, and the fight scenes had more action and dialogue between. She lost me on Book 3 as she changed the style and alternated chapters between the  two central characters. AND HERE IS A STORY SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN”T READ IT YET – how can a narrator be a dead person? Not Death as in the Book Thief, but a person who dies to tie up the story line and keep narrating until they draw their last breath. But don’t cry, the person’s best friend steps in to comfort the remaining partner and hints of a future life together are more than blatant to stop our tears. WEAK WEAK WEAK.  That ranted, thank heavens for such writers who do get our students reading and discussing stories.

I had to reflect on the way the physical act of reading has changed so much since my childhood. The first book in the Divergent series I listened to as an audio book as I drove to school each day. The second book I downloaded as a ebook to my iPad and the third book I read as a paperback borrowed from the school library (the second book was out to students hence my need to download). Books for all places in all manner of ways – reading is so accessible these days. What a gift.

I am off to brew tea, before perhaps a browse of my unread book piles and then a little nap. I intend making seafood chowder for dinner so shall have to rise at some stage, but I am sure I am not the first person to cook in their pjs. Combing of the hair may, or may not be a priority.

pjs Marie McDonald

 

day has dawned

fishin

Every school day I rise at 5am and I am on the road by 6.30, as I try to have the library open by 7.30. I don’t actually have to open until 8am, but the number of students dropped off by parents at 7am onwards concerns me, so I try to provide a safe place for them to wait for friends and teachers to arrive.

My reward is the freshness of a new day. This week I have been gifted by a sunrise in a pink sky, that was just breathtaking. This morning, the temperature dropped to minus 1 (my car temperature gauge, though I suspect it had been minus 3 earlier) and I drove through the Village and out through fields of frost covered fields, and mists rising from all the creeks that criss-cross the Village and the adjoining countryside. It was mystical and mythical, and if Arthur had walked from the mist carrying his sword it would have seemed oh so right.

I cleared all the notices off our new blackboard and wrote “Gone fishin’ ” before closing the library for the next two weeks.

It doesn’t get much better than this…

 

Chuffed all around

ODD 1

Mr FD’s full time job seems to have become maintaining his health in recent months with visits to the optometrist, pediatrist, physiotherapist, family doctor, dentist and now periodontist. Getting old is a full time job! It is also a growing expense due to major design faults with the human body – maybe The Big Whatever should have rested for a day before undertaking the construction of humans!

I arrived home with my post conference glow to be greeted with the fact that at the age of 64 Mr FD’s four wisdom teeth need to removed – on Tuesday. I guess the wisdom never functioned so what is the need to keep them anyway.

So, from Thursday night to today we have been in high gear in preparation for “the procedure”. It is taking place in Toowoomba which is some thirty or forty minutes drive from The Village, with a lot of road work in between. As I work 40 minutes in the opposite direction from The Village, it necessitates me taking a Family Care Day to drive and care, well, drive, at least. Then I get to spend five or six hours in a city which was home for 25 years but with which we now have no contact. See the inconvenience I am suffering?

Then there was the shopping list to the pharmacy for ice packs, pain killers, nausea medication, cotton pads and the list goes on. We had a complete list from the periodontist and I thought it would be a case of handing it over and paying for a shopping bag of goodies, but the pharmacy assistant had to second and third guess and confuse herself over every item on the list. I think she was somewhat perplexed in serving a person (Mr FD excluded) with any level of critical thinking and so had to argue every point.

I wanted to say, “excuse me, but I actually have a level of intelligence” with perhaps the addition of “more than the usual locals around here” but one must be politically correct, and so I had to work REALLY HARD on keeping my voice calm and jammer polite replies, but we must have been close to an hour in the damn pharmacy before we were able to obtain what was exactly on our list.  Not to self, take a cut lunch and a thermos on next outing to pharmacy.

There was a poor woman in the pharmacy waiting for a script who looked like a suppurating wound from head to toe, and while she was distressing to look upon I can only imagine what a misery her life must be. She adopted Mr FD and I however, in-between the pharmacy assistant appearing and disappearing on her fool’s errands, and tried to tell us her story. She wanted to tell the entire store her story, which may have been good therapy for her, but most of us had our own issues – I mean I had to lead a wisdom tooth suffering Mr FD around as he malfunctioned on pain medication.

I tried to appear sympathetic, and I was, I am guessing that she had a severe skin infection from eczema or dermatitis,  but when she started to complain about how the doctor would no longer allow her to drain her own infection by popping them I just wanted to throw up. I murmured soothingly comments, such as “oh dear, how uncomfortable for you, that must be distressing, and oh my how terrible” hoping my lack of questions or conversational natter would deter her but alas, no.

It came to the point where I was about to throw my arms around the pharmacy assistant and welcome her into my family if she took us to another department, when she actually did, and we were released from our incarceration.

However, not before Mr FD had to share a joke that he had created in the middle of the previous night, with the pharmacy assistant. I figured it was pay back for the suffering she had made me suffer, so I allowed him to roll.

My doctor says I am addicted to fishing. [Pause for the listener to react sympathetically] But it is okay because they are going to give me NEMOtherpay.

Yep, so chuffed was he with his comedic efforts that he had woken me the previous night to share his brilliance. Like I said, she deserved it. No doubt he will share with all on Tuesday prior to surgery. They may increase his pain level in return, but who would argue?

Mr FD stayed ensconced in the car, windows down a crack for ventilation, as I ran through the supermarket scooping up soups, custard, soft fruits, jelly and yoghurt for his invalid needs. Another budget blow out.

He doesn’t know it yet, but I am keeping tally on all my discomfort and efforts in his cause and he will be billed in kind accordingly. No more settling for a meagre cup of tea and a piece of toast when I am attacked by diverticulitis. I expect service with a couple S, man.

Tuesday, he is to be delivered to day surgery by 10am, nil by mouth. I shall depart to a fine restaurant for brunch, and maybe a spot of shopping, but if the weather is fine I shall walk some of the local parks which are beautiful even in the dead of winter, which is yet to arrive. Autumn passed still dressed as summer this year.

Then there will be the drive home, hopefully with a silent and docile pain relieved Mr FD in the evening to face the long first night.

Back to work on Wednesday. I think I will actually be looking forward to it!