Building something new.

Across the canal a transformation has been taking place. A while back I wondered what was going on. I thought maybe they were just doing a roof repair. They stripped off the old tiles and then popped on a bit of a tin roof but only on one end. Not much else happened for a while and we were left wondering.

Then all hell broke loose and roof trusses were whipped off anld scaffold went up and a whole new house started to take shape. It is bloody enormous. I reckon it makes the Big House seem pretty small.

I am so enjoying watching this emerge from what was a very ordinary looking 70s place. We have driven passed it but there was not much to see from the road and unlike what I might have done, well have in fact done many times and that is yomped all over the site when the tradies have gone home, I am nursing my leg and just imagining what the new place is gonna be like.

It is so exciting watching someone's ideas become a reality. I am definitely hoping that I can gain sufficient control over my newly built knee that before the building process is finished, I can have the fun of sneaking in and having a good look around.

It's too often a matter of semantics. When we built this place, it was approved as a 'Renovation', cos we re-used the original footprint / slab, even though we added to that too. The new place across the canal, almost certainly is also a reno as they too have lumped on top of the original first floor shell, after removing the internal walls.

So I will continue to enjoy watching the house take shape and at the same time I'm gonna work hard to make sure that my new knee is gonna be an equal design success.

Lacking a Filter

Me, yeh I am lacking a filter, not my car, though it could be too, cos I have no idea about what's under the bonnet.

A mate of mine sent me this cartoon this morning and I wondered if it was gonna become a forewarned explanation or apology of something he was gonna do, or maybe he was just reminding me that I should flick the filter button from time to time to see if it still works and maybe keep myself out of trouble.

There is no doubt that all too often my mouth is in fast forward and my brain is running a very poor second.

Poor old Dr Angus last week was the latest to be swamped by the gutter pourings, when he teased me about having to see him sometime soon for a new hip or 2. 'Fuck Off! ' flew out and I admit that I was embarrassed enough to pretend that someone else must have said it. He was a little taken aback but I suppose he has heard worse, perhaps just not from a 50 something woman having a bad hair day and wielding a crutch.

I reckon there would be far less room for ambiguity if we all just said what we thought when we thought it.

"Does my arse look big in this?"
"Yes, you know it does otherwise you wouldn't have asked. Stop asking me these shitful questions."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Ab-sofucking-lutely not. I am happy to juggle 3 kids and a trolley load of groceries  and manoeuvre around your little party of texting maniacs." Yeh you might have noticed this is the filter in action. No filter would be, " Get the fuck out my way you cock with a text problem."

"Would you  mind if I just jumped the cue?"
"Mind? I'd be fucking furious! Wait your turn like everyone else."

It is obvious that things could get very hairy indeed if filters were phased out, but no one would die wondering where they stood, and that couldn't be all bad.

Little things we take for granted.

 On Monday, Steve is gonna return the old lady geriatric loo and shower seat. Fucking yippee!!

There is something just so bloody depressing having that shitful - excuse the pun, thing in the house, being shifted from one loo to another, and god knows having a shower while sitting on a fucking plastic chair with your bum falling into the hole does not bring any joy.

Yesterday I stood up for a shower for the first time in more than 2 weeks. Sure you can keep yourself relatively clean with a flannel and a bit of soap, but that hardly takes the place of letting the steamy water sprinkle all of you. AHH!

And I know that serious improvement is still some months away, but getting rid of the paraphernalia is an excellent start.

I am down to no plasters and no stitches and 1 crutch and can make it to the loo in good time without any puddles, and the number of grimacey groans is down to a bearable minimum, although Steve might argue that that's not quite true.

And tomorrow I am moving back upstairs. Yippee!!! Things are getting back to normal. Dr Angus was pleased with my progress and I reckon I do so like a glowing report card.

I reckon that if I can get into the pool tomorrow, or more importantly get myself out of the pool, then dancing by Christmas is a real possibility. Fingers crossed anyway.

Gold Coast V8 Cars and all that noise

Vroom Vroom Vroom. Titty titty bum bum.

Yeh it's that time again, when the traffic crawls and the locals get all fed up and titchy.  It really is a love it or hate it time of year.

One year I lived right on the track, well maybe it was 2 years. Anyway getting in and out of my building was a logistical nightmare and I wrote letter after letter asking for consultation with locals about how to make the whole fiasco more pleasant. These of course were routinely ignored and I am sure became the laughing point for all the rev heads in the planning departments.

Through our Body Corporate fees, we stumped up stupid fees to cover round the clock security guards as ferals tried to use the grounds as a thorough fare into the hallowed grounds and then we paid again when it was all over to cover the repair bills to the fencing and the gardens and the lift etc. The noise was a blight and the madness was just an excellent place to be away from.

Now I live on the outter edge of the noise zone. We can hear the low rumble and the hum but cannot smell the exhaust and we don't have to step over little puddles of ooopsie-too-much-beer. Now it's much better. It is hard to believe that all the madness still happens just a couple of kilometres away and we can just crack on with our little bit of everyday.

I hope that everyone who wants to, enjoys absolutely every minute of it and as for the hapless locals who are driven mad, well I hope they have some effective industrial strength ear plugs, or better still have managed to escape the place altogether.

Healthy useful trudge up the stairs.

5 years ago when my first knee became bionic and a constant pain in the bum getting through airport security, the lovely Laurie told me that the best exercise for knee rehab was going up and down the stairs. This happened at a visit where Steve told him that he had to be restrained during Physio sessions cos the guy was hurting me so much I was a weeping crying mess.

5 years ago we had still to decide on balustrades and the stairs were more than a little dicey. I recall clearly a good dose of terror as I tried to manage 2 steps up and down and only if Steve was there to catch me - not a job he has ever signed up for and one which understandably he was not thrilled with.

At the hospital this time the physios had a little set of stairs in the rudimentary 'training room', which also catered for visitors if not in use by whingers and cry babies. The stairs were shorter than average and only 3 up and down. Still it was a challenge.

So home now for a week and the fully operational stairs have been calling. 1 flight to the half landing and back is 20 stairs. I started with fewer than that.

Today I am up to 200 stairs!! That's 5 lots of up and down the whole lot! No I am not doing them all at once, I like to prolong the agony, but I am getting stronger and quicker. I am not sure that the bendability is improving but it sure is not getting any worse.

There is still not to be done in a normal day, except stairs and sitting down and reading and sleeping off the drugs and today I watched 'Sex and the City' movie 1.

It's been a good slow quiet day.

Mathias Cormann - Here's a Girlie Swipe, guess there is no need to duck.

Finance Minister Mathias Cormann defends calling Bill Shorten an 'economic girlie-man'

Updated Sun at 1:36pmSun 19 Oct 2014, 1:36pm

Photo: Mathias Cormann has defended himself for calling Bill Shorten an "economic girlie-man". (AAP: Alan Porritt, file photo)

 

Well BUGGER ME!! 'economic girlie-men' is not a reflection on girls and I suppose if I made some banal sounding comment about foreigners with German accents being Nazis then that would have nothing to do with Germans, or indeed Belgians.

I thought I was reasonably widely read and yet I have never heard the phrase coined before. Perhaps Mr Cormann inspires to all things Arnie, possibly including having a son hidden under the stairs.

So now I am in a truly uncomfortable position, and not only cos I am trying to train up my new metal knee. Penny Wong objected too, and I do very much not want to be sided with her, cos I find it impossible to believe most of what she says and I truly doubt her motivations in just about everything she does.

So Mr Cormann, this is my problem with what you said.,

• It wasn't original and now you want to hide behind the rather sad shadow of a has been.
• Any derogatory phrase that has girlie in it is bound to offend more than a small handful of women and girls, and when given the chance to address this you just didn't bother.

I don't want to live in a world where political correctness becomes a muzzle and we are afraid to speak our minds in case some one, some where takes offence, but clearly Mr Cormann could do with a bit of muzzling about now.

I long for a time when 'throwing like a girl' and 'running like a girl' and yes 'balancing a budget like a girl' are perceived as compliments not as derogatory swipes.

Cars and Bicycles playing nicely please

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There's the serene music and the calm friendly faces and 2 bikers riding side by side chatting away joyfully, until they become aware of a motorist behind them so they graciously move into single file so the car can more easily get passed them. The voice over waxes lyrical about how kind the bikers are and how this bit of generosity is all that it takes for peace and goodwill to spread on our roads like butter on hot toast.

The high angle shot which follows show the car going passed the 2 bikers, crossing the solid white line, and running the risk of smashing into anyone using the other side of the road - motorist, biker / or pedestrians.

I am pretty drug fazed at present but isn't crossing a solid white line against the law?

Should we be pleased that the good natured bikers have allowed sufficient room for a motorist to put themselves and others at risk?

What in deed were the AD MEN (women) thinking?

There can just be no doubt that there are many many roads that just cannot accommodate parked cars 2 way car traffic and bicycles, let alone dogs and neighbourhood kids playing a game of French Cricket. The roads are just too bloody narrow, and intricately worded legislation about when you can and can't pass and all the rest of it is just not gonna be helpful.

I don't ride a bike anymore, haven't done for many years. It used to be a way of getting from A to B when my car was wonky or if I wanted some exercise. I might have stopped about the same time as it became law to wear a bloody helmet - oh how I loved it when the government decided to interfere in my delight in wind blown hair down by the Brisbane Corso on a sunday afternoon.

Bikers today seem to believe they are vehicle almight, that they are playing a great role in  curing global warming and are keen to push their greenie credentials and lyrca down the throats of the heathen fossil fuel slurping comfort seekers driving around in metal versions of their lounge rooms.

I can't see a time of easy co-existence between cars and bikes. I would like to say that there might come a time when common sense prevailed and people were as aware as they could be but I reckon that's doubtful.

The more legislation that is drawn up and can be waved around on high by biker bullies, then the worse off I fear they will be.

It's hard to hide behind the law that says you can ride 2 abreast and that cars need to give you 1and a half meter leeway, when you don't feel the need to stop at red lights or leave footpaths for pedestrians, or pay any registration or fee to pay for the upkeep of the roads on which you feel completely entitled to ride.

But back to the ad.... well I can't find a link to it, so maybe it has been pulled and if as I suspect it was funded by some government  quango, that will just be more of our tax dollars we will never hear of again. Oh Dear!!