One Week Later...

I was so darned organised.

Packing en pointe. Carry on with absolutely required items only (still weighs a doggarned tonne). Tickets and passports and things needed to get in easily accessible nooks and crannies.

I had even checked-in online on time. Made sure that Paris had the window seat and me next to her all flights.

We got a great park at the airport and mother-in-law and V primed to wave farewells.

And then?

The booking card for Paris was mine printed twice. I showed Paris that it wasn't technically pushing in if we used the priority desk for a little Snafu of the airline's own making - and bonus, it gave the clerk a little one-upmanship leverage in workplace politics. Win.

Then we boarded. Word to the wise - apparently row 15 doesn't have a window. So struck out there.

Got to our connection city and going through the international connection gate had a problem with our  boarding passes AGAIN. It kept saying wrong date - so the lady did a manual override swipe and we entered the realm that was to be ours for the next 6 hours.

We connected to the airport wifi and made calls then went to see what was on offer for dinner on our way to scout the gate - but no flight, no gate and no clue what was going on.

 

Finally someone (hint, it wasn't me) had the bright idea to check the app - and there was advised second leg of flight was delayed by 10 hours.  On the upside, the airline put us up in a hotel and gave us some food vouchers - for inside the terminal, not at hotel. However, as Paris really wanted to shout us Chipotle's via Uber Eats we ate well. The beds were very soft and the pillows were way too fluffy. Luckily I had a spare shirt for the hot/cold changes so something to sleep in but no spare underwear!

This meant that we would miss the connecting flight from Brisbane, so after an interminable time on hold (thank goodness it wasn't a genuine EMERGENCY) I eventually got onto travel agent's 24/7 emergency response person (TA247ERP) to change flights. Given logistics of flights and customs, the earliest realistic flight I could get on was the next day (Tuesday) which meant I would have to stay overnight.  The TA247ERP said this is the airline's issue - check in chick advised it was in their charter and, on seeing our documentation, confirmed we should be eligible and she would put a note on our file for someone to talk to us about procedure at other end. That didn't happen but she had said we could send in a claim.

Motel we stayed at had firm enough bed, free shuttle to airport in morning and A-MA-ZING room service. We also had our luggage, so fresh clothes. The apartment was right at the other end of the complex to the office and free shuttle and the bags heavy, but heck, people pay to go to the gym.

Arrived back in home town - friend who had car garaged at hers collected - in her car, as my car wouldn't start. RACQ advised battery stuffed - got new battery.

Collected cat - paid for extra night. Cat yelled at us all the way home.

Dropped off cat and daughter and collected groceries. On way up with groceries, noticed a large puddle beneath toilet/pipes. Rang plumber. Amazing plumber came and fixed perished rings in toilet and advised no heavy work for toilet for 24 hours.

Used downstairs toilet for heavy work - discovered that downstairs toilet has same issue plus probably more. Used bucket from laundry sink to flush. Noticed washer in laundry also buggered.

Meant to be back at work Wednesday - on middle of night escort of daughter to downstairs toilet (its scary down there) felt a migraine niggling - took some drugs but was still a complete write off until about 2pm so first day back a sick day - all evacuations either end required a walk downstairs, get bucket of water from laundry and complete. Noted how filthy toilet was. Also had to call Cancer Care and move appointment for 3 year check up - not a fun activity when jackhammers are in the brain and nausea is threatening. Daughter put on washing (hooray) and washing machine stopped at final rinse. I think that I have worked out it may be related to washer issue in laundry as I got it to work by specifying "tap cold" rather than "cold/cold" for water temperature.

Called plumber again - couldn't come out to Friday morning.

 

Back to work on Thursday - as developer was finishing up other projects I couldn't get lowdown on requirements for fixing any issues raised with me until Friday, so spent day sorting spotfires and writing lists for Friday meeting.

 

Plumber back - downstairs toilet not only has issue identified but also apparently a crack in the base - will send a quote for that (but fixed problem).  Laundry taps so bad required complete replacement also.  It seems that my next holiday budget will be labelled "maintenance".

 

I rarely blog when in "real life" due to the brain drain that work is (they do get value for money).

 

All extra hours this week (and this weekend ahead) is devoted to catching up on family, yardwork and housework - and zonking out early - then up early because apparently time is just a concept!

 

Awoke at 3:14 this morning (pi time!!) and brain when into whirr zone. Am hoping that all the things I envisage happening today when I couldn't get back to sleep do actually happen. 

 

So - how has your week treated you? 

And in a blink

 Four days have now passed and suddenly we are nearing the end of our sojourn.

(Apologies - most of these photos are out of order, as gz often complains I too blame Blogger.)

Still, as it has my trademark "1970s sepia" mask in place.

Bad photo of Petco Park towards our seats from a section halfway to first - if you squint you can see Paris and mother-in-law 

We did some tourist stuff - saw Old Town. (Didn't take photos)

Saw extended family. (Didn't take photos)

From our seats behind home plate. Mother-in-law has a client who has been a member for a lot of years.

Received much kindness from neighbours and clients and friends of my mother-in-law who all love her enough to give her gifts to enjoy while her family are visiting.

From above our seats looking towards the field 

We saw the new towns developing on the footpaths and saw some baseball and learned how to use uber amidst a morass of fans swarming with disappointment after a sweep at home.

This is meant to be a panoramic view from the members balcony but it just looks sort of weird, doesn't it?

 and saw streets with life murals etched and meanwhile at home the fans kept blowing and sucking the moisture from the air and the walls and our souls. (Being overly dramatic for - well, for dramatic effect I suppose).

A mural passed on our Uber ride back.

The best thing that happened this morning was the fans stopped. The silence was amazing. The plastic removed from the walls and the cardboard removed from the floors and whilst there are decent holes in the wall the machines have gone and we all relaxed.

The sourdough finally worked on the last loaf attempted.

We did those jobs today that are a p.i.t.a.

Returns and refunds. Exchanges. And yet - charmed existence, all store clerks most helpful and kind, time requirement negligible, all needs met. I even scored a shirt while not exactly what I wanted but better than expected and when mother-in-law saw it exclaimed "wait" and gifted me a black and white patterned skirt that matched it PERFECTLY, it was another sign of a blessed day.

Meanwhile in Australia the three hat trick that a certain bank has been playing (blogged about a few weeks ago) had another chapter with involvement from all corners of the globe and modern communication methods - and achieved a significant breakthrough. Not a "stick a fork in it, it's done" breakthrough but one involving a chink of light from the very end of a proverbial tunnel.

Still couldn't turn back time and give us a Padres win yesterday.

Horror movies

 It was decided on the drive home from shopping today that we would be watching Jaws tonight. I abstained from voting on the matter but my vote didn't matter as it was.

I was scrolling adjacent as the movie played. I am not one for gore or violence or anything jump-scary, so luckily the movie is now so well known in modern folklore that I could anticipate.

In my wander around the playground that is the internet I discovered:

• The San Diego Botanic Gardens has a rare orchid bloom - a corpse flower (& if you go to their Facebook page you can name it) https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/2025/08/28/rare-corpse-flower-prepares-for-its-first-bloom-at-san-diego-botanic-garden/
• ... about 1.67% of attackers in the Secret Service report were transgender and 95.56% of attackers were men who were not transgender... So in summation, if we are to change the outcome we need to consider the base root cause.  https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/transgender-mass-shootings/
• The length of the shark in Jaws spawned a sociological discussion of science vs myth https://www.quora.com/Can-a-great-white-shark-really-be-as-big-as-25-ft-long-and-weighing-three-tons-as-depicted-in-the-film-Jaws
• 316 sailors survived the USS Indianapolis https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/surviving-sinking-uss-indianapolis
• Not only is there Jaws (1975 Spielberg) and  Jaws 2 (1978 Sczwarc) there is Jaws 3-D (1983 Alves) in a theme park, Jaws 4: The Revenge (1987 Sargent), Cruel Jaws (1995 Mattei) which is apparently some fan fic that got a limited release and  a myriad of Jaws 6 concepts. The Jawsical (estimated Summer 2025 Whannell/Koepp) was promising but no tune on the promos trailer didn't fulfil the musical promise)

No sharks (mechanical or otherwise) were harmed in the creation of this blog post.

Apologies to Abraham - if you aren't AI then please take it as a compliment that it was so close! Don't say stupid

August ending

 The middle of our last weekend here and the end of the weekend there.

It has been a mostly busy day.  A "drop everything we are socialising and entertaining today" sort of day.

I really don't mean to be bossy. Honestly. I am happy to be a worker bee, a "tell me what to do and I will do it" kind of girl.

But I have been in situations where it has muddled and nobody stepped up in time to get it directed.

The trick, I think, is getting your timing right - so you are assured that nobody else has dibs and not realising until too late the requirement of the someone taking the reins is you. 

Judgement that the someone has thrown their hat into the ring they also worthy and not doing it just because - and not yielding to a claim of gazumping just because unless they are the perfect solution.

Aren't photos wonderful" they said. "They keep memories alive." Outside San Diego Zoo with V, mother-in-law and Paris. Really, it is!

Luckily in the scenario today I was always going to be "it". Mother-in-law had work until the last moment and momentum from several different directions had already come into play and needed harness.

I was so bossy today and yet I wasn't. As I said to my sister, I was merely a lollipop lady with a list. I love a good list!

It went relatively smoothly and there was more than enough in the way of food and drinks and connections made - and enough spots to hide if you are a shy teenager in a morass of adults or sneak off and watch baseball.

Nobody complained of being allocated tasks or denying then the honours, anyhow. Well, not yet but is a long weekend over here.

In what situations have you ever found yourself in a "needs must" role?

Communication

 Isn't communication a revolutionary thing? I mean, compared to the era of my 2x great grandparents and their family across the oceans or that of my greats without phones or grands without fax to parents starting to email and us with our old-hat blogs and Facebook while the next is IG, Snapchat and tiktok and who knows what into the future.

Today (which is a relative term), I am

• carrying on a conversation with a friend last seen in the early 80s in Rockvegas rowing on the Fitzroy;
• Having a meme conversation with an old work colleague;
• Operating multiple mobile phones profiling one another to find why one octogenarian's phone isn't receiving group photos connected to 19 relatives on that branch, of which statistically she numbered two! (All of you who have ever assisted older generations with any form of technology, nod slowly) (BTW I succeeded - it was not that she was not of the clan, it's that her phone had deemed the clan to be spam! It had also pocket-blocked a favourite nephew.
• Assisting only very slightly with the administration of the generation where computers and apps and mobile technology are definitely not second nature (or even placing)
• Giving opinions on the advisdedness of designating certain persons asshole status in certain almost certainly contrived situations 
• (Because surely to goodness nobody is that mean or thick)
• (Surely not)
• Peeking over the out-of-office notification of my work emails to see who might be making a dartboard with my picture while I continue to swan it up 
• Expanding the branches of the family tree in a few new directions with living sources, and 
• Ordering food for eight people.

I certainly could not have done that in yonder days...

It was the sort of day that doesn't get a title

 It was a day of waiting for phone calls and seeing adjusters and listening to the constant whine of a compressor drying the walls and us determinedly not being driven up them.

I finally watched whole episodes of Downton Abbey (very late to that party) and did loads of washing and mother-in-law recut hair (still perfect but now tapered more) and redid Paris's highlights and we had ravioli and played pool badly.

See - more taper here

I also had some technical issues. Due to something or other Luddite my phone is not esim compatible which is as much research as I have done regarding connectivity while here.

This hasn't limited me too much as mother-in-law has WiFi and folks that I need to talk to here are all contactable via mother-in-law and folks that I need to talk to elsewhere I can get through social media so have had little to require it. 

One day of international roaming costs $10, and it is charged for 24 hours from the moment you accept a call or text or make one.  

I did pay for 1 day to speak to Paris's school so she could continue with her work.

However today I should have known there would be issues as Dad, who I ring nearly every morning at 7.25am, couldn't pick up his end because Messenger would ring once and disappear. He then sent me a voicemail which I couldn't download and we continued in this fashion until he rang again and I, despite the dose of Scots, answered the $10 phone call.

Which was very stressful for both of us - no video for Dad meant a huge comprehension issue and on his end the line kept dropping out until it disconnected and I couldn't get through calling back.

Luckily my sister-in-law went to see them today.

Then I got an extended family message to beat the drums for another of the older generation and so I did what I could from here that someone will be able to advise the right people. 

I even inadvertently discovered another familial vendetta that one particular branch specialises in which is just so petty and tiresome. Just passing along news, not looking to start, maintain or broker anything here!

Instead of Amtrak we caught the umm track

 Today the plan was rise early, catch the train North along the coast to a site where V misspent part of his youth, stay the night and return on the morrow.

Instead, water views were on offer in unusual places here and many administrative duties undertaken to alleviate that situation.

Amtrak refunded the tickets.

The flood was 12 hours too late to cancel our accommodation.

A pipe inside a wall behind the fridge had developed a leak and the leak had developed into a stream when my mother-in-law noticed when searching for a 3am peanut butter snack.

The damage wasn't the worst that it could be. Phone calls have been made and received, one guy put blue tape on bits of wall and a noisy machine with pipes dehumidifying the wall, another guy checked a temporary fix and took photos for a report for insurance and we will have another few guys around at 9 tomorrow to talk how many 0s might be involved.

It's going to be a few uncomfortable days and possibly a bit of wall repair.

But it was Providence at work, because I sure as heck wouldn't have wanted to have gone away and returned to the damage that could have been done.

And we therefore also got to get a bit of shopping done closer to home so not all wasted 

150 years ago

 A 17 year-old came out on assisted passage - Alfred Benjamin Martin - alone amongst 350 on the "Isles of the South" (check out this trove article by the captain on the voyage - the man should take a masterclass in understatement - would go nicely with a decent port!)

Six years hence he married a 20 year old German girl who had lived half her life in Queensland. Wilhelmina - or Minnie - Schultz.

Over the next 10 years , four children had been born and the wife had died when the youngest was not yet three years old. I saw a very old photograph of them - Bennie,  Rosie, Lennie and Lillie.

He brought his father (Alfred) and 3 siblings out to Australia from a changing England - an older sister (Esther) and two much younger brothers (William and George).

The sister looked after these four motherless children until a business discussion led to a new wife nearly half his age. Phoebe Emma (or Anne - it appears interchangeable) Edwards.

I have several matrons in the family tree who had a dowry. Both have stories attached.

One great great grandfather - no relation to the above for another generation - was a total scoundrel but did not touch the 1,000 pounds that his wife Hannah brought with him.

But this great grandfather was a great bloke and friend to all, had well-taxed deep pockets and Phoebe's 10,000 but 5 years later Phoebe had four well-married stepchildren, a 19 year old son (another Alfred - James Alfred),  a sadness (Hector died at 1 day old and there is a family story told many years later that there were up to 10 pregnancies) and two late surprises with an 8 year old girl (Jean) and a 4 year old boy (Ian - my grandfather) - widow's weeds and a line of business associates of her late husband requesting that she waive the IOUs that were due - and less than 400 with no money coming in.

He was many more things than the above in his amazing life - he was a scholar, an engineer, a mill manager and spokesperson for all things sugar in the region - first Mackay and then Maryborough, both serving pivotal roles in his life journey.

But back to the trove story - unfortunately this post - I was about to make up a word - anniverses - does it work? This post doesn't anniverse the story with hailstones

 A very heavy N.W. gale was experienced on the 27th, in latitude 33° S. and longitude 155°* E., with much thunder, lightning, and large hailstones. A sudden shift to S.W. (for which we had prepared ourselves) took place, and a new inner jib paid the penalty and was

blown almost to rags, the sheet of which was flogged into quite a "Gordian knot," which took some pains to unravel.

but instead, it would have been the month prior 

On August 24 (62 days out) we passed the meridian of Cape Aguthas, in lat. 44° south, and then a fair run of 233½ miles a day for 27 days was made. On August 29 Flog Island, one of the Crozet Group, was sighted ; and on this parallel of 45° south we continued to run down our easting, during which mostly favorable weather was experienced with an occasional gale and a high sea to break the monotony of the day's routine. 

But that is Captain J. D. B. le Conteur for you - understated!

Sour doh

 As you know I like to cook.

My approach to cooking is somewhat akin to my approach to gardening. It's science and some experiments prove things - and some don't.

While over here, my MILs next door neighbour has gifted me some starter as I do have some at home that I play with and for whatever anyone says about the sourdough community, generosity is built into the whole equation.

On the downside, MIL is not a baker and thus the whole scientific approach that I normally pay lips service to has had to hit the kerb as no scales, strange bowls and ah hoc cooking vessels have made it a slightly more -  esoteric? - experience than that undertaken in my own kitchen.

The rolls that I made first up were acceptable but not my best work - flour isn't always the flour that you are used to so what I thought was wholemeal is a whole different taste journey here.

The bao buns failed miserably but I think that I know what went wrong (as well as that whole "how tf and I going to steam them" hanging over my head that I ended up not needing to solve).

The discard English muffins that are a favourite at home worked okay although the lack of a pizza stone and following recipe instructions instead proved to be the pizza stone is a superior method.

I had made a dough for a loaf but screwed up my maths and ran out of things to hold it in so pivoted to "let's do something with all of these apples" and what I made was not what I envisioned. It's edible but disappointing.

On the upside, in the non bread domain I have managed to create enough for me to keep the visiting chef hat atop my head so phew!

The other fun available

 There are apparently other things that you can do on holidays besides relax or shop or get beautiful or just let go of all care.

You can fight with a teenager about the school work that should only take about an hour a day to keep on top of.

In fact, if you get a teenager in the right phase, you can argue about 20 minutes of school work for nearly the whole day.

The arguments varied from I have done everything through its all stupid to its all your fault that I will fail everything by taking this holiday now.

To add interest, the first baulk at doing what was required resulted in no phone availability until at least 20 minutes was achieved, and it proved to me that time travel is possible because I saw a modern version of my own teenage strops.

Mum was right then too.

Once we were over that hump, had food in our stomachs and equilibrium reached, we were playing pool and Paris noted how, with the white ball in one hand and cue in the other, she was like Elsa (in Frozen) when she was coronated.

Coronated didn't sound right, so we went to the internet to see what we could find.

Amongst things found was proof in the adage that you should never trust the internet.

Is it Thursday?

 

That is the problem with a holiday, isn't it?

we enter the swimming pool of days, shallow and warm and mesmerisingly relaxing.

Our "real time" is akilter.

And now we have entered that deep water of where in the week are we?

In the month? Which month?

In the spin of earth attuned with Sun?

But every day is Sunday for us here.

Thursday so we went to the foot spa and manicure place today and my nails are now varying shades of orange 🧡 .  Paris chose a very neutral gel, and I discovered that I am ticklish - extremely ticklish - when my feet are scrubbed by someone else.

I could be wrong but I think that this is Elizabeth Rankin and Herbert Arnold Burgess, parents of my father's mother. Grandma was born in 1912.

I wonder if that was a Thursday? And what shape their feet were in.

Although, another of my forbears was a shoemaker and a daughter who is a podiatrist so perhaps better than we could expect today.

San Francisco Love Stories

 I have never been in San Francisco but it is a city where the heroine of one of my stories met the love of her life.

He was an older man, but she was an incredibly successful woman in her own right when they met in an official capacity.

They swept each other off their respective feet and he followed her into her life and, from one perspective, they formed their own perfect reality exclusive of all others until death did them part.

---

Back in the day - over 40 years ago now can you believe - I did a presentation. I must admit my poster art always let me down.

I think that is why I went into public speaking quite assiduously at that juncture.  

Other people think that they are terrified of public speaking. It's definitely not so cool to be scared of an A3 piece of purple cardboard, some maps, photos cut from magazines, markers and clag (don't even mention sticky tape or worse still, stickers).

Words I can play with and you can hardly tell when I colour outside the lines.

My presentation on San Francisco had interesting facts like the Golden Gate bridge and the Chinatown and their zigzaggiest street in the world. 

---

This is not the zigzaggiest street of SF but rather the view towards SD I snapped yesterday. Usual phone disclaimer.

I cannot remember if I mentioned the Giants and, funny thing, I married into a Padres family who are being visited this week by the San Francisco Giants. 

My lucky number is 23 - which happens to be that of one Dominican player called Fernando Tatis Jnr

OMG 😱 I just read his Wikipedia and that of his father and it was meant to be:

• Fernando was a favourite ABBA song;
• Ferdinand was the name of my favourite book about a bull that didn't want to fight (& there was a cork tree in it)
• Wasn't it?
• Snr holds a record for RBI as he hit 2 grand slams in one innings 
• ON MY BIRTHDAY 
• in 1999!
• Which was also the year that not only 'Salina was born -
• But his own son Fernando Tatis Jnr was born in that year 
• On the 2nd of January, which is a date etched in my mind as my great aunt is the first name etched in the family bible as being born over 125 years ago 
• Which is also the day after Fernando Tatis (thereafter known as Snr) turned 24
• Snr was born the year that I started primary school.
• Jnr played an absolute BLINDER today and helped to smash the Giants tonight.

So not every love story has a happy ending for all involved. The Padres fans loved it. Should I get a number 23 Padres shirt, there would definitely be a happy ending.

---

In other non-SF related news - today I got a haircut and we had enchiladas and tomorrow we may get pedicures and manicures and go to a bookstore.

Yours truly sporting the latest style from my MILs salon.

What is not to love about a holiday?

Hands, knees and boompsa-daisy - and big buses, bears and birthday wishes

 Today, we went to the zoo.

Do you know what I did not do at the zoo? I did not take many pictures. You know the reason why. 

(Isn't my MIL beautiful? I won't reveal a lady's age without consent, but goodness you would be surprised)

Instead, I actually stopped looking through the lens (it's screen really, isn't it?)

However, just because I was not screen gazing did not mean that I was not distracted.

Thus on the walk from the car to the entrance to the zoo, I was both searching for the tickets (in exactly the place that I had put them) and navigating the San Diego Zoo car park (where all of the animals of our species goes to look at others) and I failed to assess the height of the gutter accurately. 

Thus the right toe shoe was several centimetres lower than the gutter to the footpath and therefore a chain of events occurred starting with my outstretched hand jarring into the pavement and my right kneecap slamming into the ground. I somehow managed to weave my fall enough that my skull did not follow suit.

I very nearly channelled Roy Kent on the ground, but an eyewitness advised my travelling companions that my head was spared, and can we have a hallelujah for that.

Another miracle is that, apart from the initial impact there was not a lot of pain.

We peaked early with a dream run to the choice seats on the top deck of the bus.

After that, the pandas were sleeping, big cats were up close and personal with one camping on the walkway watching the stupid little humans go up the unsigned dead-end road and then turn around and come back again, the birds of prey casually observing the ordered lines of humans streaming past, the hippos tiptoed right beside us and the canyon we descended and climbed - alas there was no polar bear to be found.

All the elements of 1970s sepia postcard filter my phone now offers - I would also like to lay the crap composition at that alter but really my other main misfortune to blame - I have absolutely no sense of style. A vortex indeed.

By the time we got home the pool was most welcome - and muscles that I didn't know existed - prior to trauma or exertion - or a little of both - shouted their dispute and are talking still.

I should end this post with taking full advantage of the time difference and wish my beautiful mother many happy returns on the anniversary of her spinning around the Sun - she has now seen 87 August 18. Love you Mum. 

(Mum with Jill this winter)

Aunt Jane

 Aunt Jane was wonderful.

It is lore in my family - whenever Aunt Jane was mentioned, the word wonderful was associated.

Aunt Sarah did not get such universal rave reviews. She was respected but definitely not the comforting type.

Jane was probably in her 30s when the children came into her care. She had been nursing her mother most of her life and now she had what spinsters of her era and class could never aspire to - three young minds to mould.

But I think that they gave back joy in tenfold to Aunt Jane.

The children - responsible older sister A already left school at 12 about to kick her traces, brother T the knight in shining armour at 11 and scarrion EM - my grandmother. They had been in care in Far North Queensland until rescued by the Aunts (I have told that story before - I think - here maybe?)

Their were strict rules to adhere to - the Aunts hired war widows to "do" in the house and the garden, and the children were not to interfere as these women were to be able to have pride in providing for themselves and family so it was not to be considered child's play. Or charity.

The children's favourite game was, on hearing the approach of Aunt Jane's footsteps, they would agree on hymn for her to be singing as she came into the room. Sure enough, through the power of ESP she would be warbling along to it as she came into the room.

Saturday Safety Dance

 Evening here, the end of the weekend there.

Do you remember that song? Do you realise that was over forty years ago?

We have been busy doing nothing here. It's really feeling like a holiday. We are visiting and our hostess is perpetually busy but that is her happy place. 

We have some plans made, though, but unless I get this phone fixed you will have to take my word for it.

The view from the evening walk with my hostess 

Don't you agree?

Amongst the unblogged

 Reminiscences of teenage desires 

The heartbreaks of when the world dreamt proves to be 

Soulless and skewiff - unkempt.

Frenzied labour, spinning plates with the snap of AI finger clips.

Watching unravel those who first moulded us into the seedlings of who we came to be.

Sourdough.

Wondering at the faceless forbears who rode across oceans as newlyweds, young families and lone voyagers and the impact that their lives have on mine and many others.

Young love. 

Evolution of a child. Evolution of our elders. Plane travel. AT&T. Ted Lasso. Subway. Jersey Mike's.

But I am on holidays and it's nice to put it down.

Tomato bush with 1970s sepia snapshot filter (aka Jeanie's camera on her phone - I don't know either)

Dinner was a very simple pasta with onions, tomato and basil.

I do get much joy in cooking for others. I miss it.

Genealogical mysteries - James Augustus Edwards

 First thing to know about this man is that there is another in the annals of history that holds this name and there is no chance that my James Augustus is the former mayor or governor or something or other in some city in the US. I mean, that guy may have been more important than mine, but mine is rather fascinating.

Facts that I know.

• That he married an Irish girl from Limerick in western Queensland in the 1860s
• That he was a business associate of my great -grandfather before he suggested that his daughter might be a good wife for him (he was a widow with 4 children) as she was a well trained housekeeper who had no prospects and was 24
• He was right 
• That he was a published author of and therefore recipient of some of the most damning reviews in the last 250 years of colonial literature 
• And from his death certificate, his father was Edwards and his mother was Phoebe 
• All of the below:
• 
  
  
  
  
• Wouldn't he had made a fascinating dinner companion?
• I like to imagine that he and Mary Annie had a bit of a hoot.

The end of the 41 hour day saga

 Last night US time I attempted to edit that post yesterday to give a more thorough reckoning of the day that was 13th October for us.

It was a thorough reckoning - I had almost got us aboard the first flight - but I failed blogging on my phone 101 - save everything regularly. (Guess who just hit save!)

And thus my update - involving things from invoking the lives of 4 ancestors and comparisons to their voyages and views of life, confessions, complications of regional holidays and caffeine - is forever lost in the ether.

Probably just as well - it was about 3 parts whinge so the gods were saving us all.

Today is now Thursday here (Friday at home) and today the pool has been utilised greatly by the less Sun shy, the pool table warmed up, caffeine easily come by and much talk, love and laughter shared with my mother-in-law.

(The phone still has its 1970s sepia tone settings going on)

I think that I can get used to this resort!

A very long Wednesday - and we're not at the end yet...

 So currently I am sitting in the departure lounge at Vancouver airport 3 hours before we left Brisbane today. Go figure!

The Monday after the unblogged weekend

 I had plans.  I took photos.  I wrote lists.

I did some. 

Rainy Saturday Night thoughts

 Can you believe that there was thunder and lightning earlier today?

There was.  And rain.  Good thing that I left the clothes on the line, because we needed rain.

I have also hit upon the most delicious recipe combination today.

The brief was find a solution for:

• Excess sourdough discard to be utilized
• A discovery of a bottle of zucchini pickles given by 'Salina who had received it from one of her clients.  She is often the recipient of gorgeous craft projects by those thankful for her ministrations.  I know - can you believe that 'Salina is a grown up now?

(And Paris is so very close to 16 now.  She reminded me the other day that this year she will be able to get her learners permit.

I am duly concerned...)

Ahem 

• A need to run down supplies ; and
• Book club tomorrow - I always bake something for book club.

That gave me an idea.

Which then gave me the impetus to find many recipes on the internet, two of which I combined and then put my own twist on it.

I used the sourdough discard dough from Homegrown Happiness's "Sourdough Pull Apart Bread"- doesn't that look delicious? - and My Love of Baking's "Sourdough Cheesy Garlic Pull Apart Bread

But I did not make anything cheesy or garlicky (well, not so much)

I trimmed the parsley that we keep as an indoor plant in the front window to Opal's delight and added garlic salt to a 75% wholemeal dough, which smelled so amazing.

Of course I didn't take photos.  But trust me, with my current camera status, your imagination is far better at illustrating than my offerings.

This is a sourdough from several weeks ago to show you what I mean.

Anyhoo - so after a time of faffing around, and limited to the ingredients to hand, I then split it into two (as one lot for book club and one for home) and rolled it out.

I spread the zucchini pickles and then a light layer of grated cheese (or when you run out, some of that Cholula Verde Sauce that was once on special at the local Colesworth - sneaky beggars - have had to pay full price for it forever since, but you have to get your value with it before it is forced to flee the fridge)

Then after doing the My Love of Bakings amazing scroll work and proofing it again it got baked in a fairly hot oven and they smelled ah-maz-ing.

The final result is also all of that. 

Paris, my daughter just walked past and told me to go to bed.  I told her I was just blogging about these and she said to tell you that they were the bestest ever.

Oh no, she said to tell you that she was the bestest ever.

But that was not the sum total of my endeavours in the kitchen today.  Our lemon tree is currently at almost peak season, with about 30% of the tree's fruit becoming ripe this morning.

On the upside, I was actually home to harvest.

And also on the upside, I had time to make something that has unfortunately become a favourite of late.

The battle to remain focused on health when it tastes so good with flour and sugar and eggs is a continuing struggle.

Especially when the gooey lemon squares taste SO. DARNED. GOOD. (Preppy Kitchen's Lemon Bars)

Ahem.

By the way - the above representation of a lemon - yes, that 611g (1.3 lb) lemon above - that one is a hall of famer, being picked about a month ago.  It was used in a previous baking effort.

 This wasn't the post that I came in here to write - it was going to be about rain and childhood and stuff like that - but the food got in first.

Sweet dreams all. 

 

Bank rant part 2

I spent 1.5 hours in a bank yesterday trying to get my access to Dad's accounts sorted (back story below) (with the bank bloke who had set it up in the first place)

First, he said it was because I missed the text to verify - but I hadn't missed the text to verify

Then it was because I must have done something to the previous text to make it think it was spam (but it wasn't that)

Maybe Telstra was considering the texts that the bank sent were spam (I am sure that many of their customers would have similar problems if that were the case - and I receive many verification texts for work all day)

Finally we found the problem - although he had checked MY phone number and MY email address when setting it up, somewhere along the way it had made Dad's phone number the one for verification

I explained that the reason that I HAD to be given access in the first place is so I could download statements for the accountant and my Dad is basically tech illiterate - the only time he ever gets texts is when one of his adult children or grandchildren check his phone and advise him of the 30 or so waiting - as fair as he is concerned, the best thing about these new-fangled phones is you can see people's faces on them.

So hooray - fixed it, but as we had tried too many times we wouldn't be able to see if it worked as I would have to wait a half-hour before trying again.

With trepidation last night, I finally logged in.  Hooray.

I saw the accounts (which haven't been able to be accessed for nearly 9 months).  Hooray.

And I found that the mystery still hasn't been solved, as the credit card top-up that happens monthly must be coming from another mystery account...

Getting Dad and me into a bank takes a LOT of logistics - our next chance is October 22.

 On the upside, its Saturday and I am not driving in to town AT ALL today.

I might even bake something sweet for book club. 

Blatherings and a bank rant

 I awoke again at a god-awful hour - we were preparing to go on our trip to the US but I had to help harvest this bumper crop of capsicums and chillis from a tree first because we were going to give them to someone and then we realised it was a half hour before we had to board the plane and nobody had organised a taxi and THEN I remembered that we still had to put the cat into the cattery...

Thank goodness THAT was a dream.

18 days until my very well organised departure for our trip abroad - and the cat is booked into the cattery and the car is organised to be garaged by a friend and I don't have a chilli bush (any more - cue tears).

That was at 1:45am.

I went back to bed - but I have a rule, and that is if I can't get back to sleep in a half hour I pull the pin on the malarkey and arise.

You will be most pleased to know that my last 3 hours have been very productive, and I have a list for the rest of my day.

One of the things on my list is to go to a bank during my work lunch half-hour.  Given it is at least 10 minutes either way, I am counting on my work being flexible (they will be, I am flexible with them) because I am not holding my breath that the bank will rectify matters in 10 minutes.  I mean, it has taken them - what month are we in?  July 2025 - at least 9 months thus far.

Lets call them Star Bank.  Star Bank no longer have a branch in the little town that my parents come from.  

Mum used to be the best money manager, and my Dad didn't have to do a thing in relation to it except do stuff that got money in and spend it.

When Mum started to develop "memory issues" her team of children and children-in-law put in enough scaffolding to enable another few years of getting through tax time, but there came a time when simplification was required, and simplification means reducing the number of banks that were required to be dealt with.

One bank - the one that has a branch that Dad can go into locally - was to remain - however as we were unsure of what automatic payments were required on a credit card, and because Dad remained fond of his cheque book, a second bank - Star Bank - still had these accounts ticking over.

Star Bank has a part-time branch in a town about an hour away from where they live, and so it requires some logistics and holding your mouth right to get him to the bank with someone who can translate bureaucracy for him and his reactions for the bank.  We had that happen twice - the first time there was no online access offered to him but they cut off the access that Mum had previously used - which meant no statements or monitoring of accounts; and the second time when they gave an access for him to set up.

Unfortunately when it was set up, it only offered one of the two accounts, so he managed to see them while in that town again on a medical trip.   They flicked a few switches and made it whirr and assured him it was fixed. 

It wasn't.

On Wednesday when he was in my town for a medical appointment (I live 2 hours away) I took my lunch break to go to the bank with him.  They saw the problem immediately - he has 2 banking profiles, and the one he knows about wasn't the one with all the accesses.  When pressed, they were unallowed to tell me any details about that profile as only he was to know them.

In order for me to do so, I would have to become a signatory on his account, so we sat down with a johnny and did all the paperwork required for this to happen.  I was handed a card and advised I could set up my online access at home.

I received a text message advising it was set up, telling me I would get an email.

I did not get an email.

I tried to access at home.  Unfortunately I did not receive any verification codes to enable the setup to be completed.

So yesterday (Thursday) my lunch break was spent on the phone with Star Bank.  The first third of this time was going around and around in circles advising me that it would be easier on the app, just log in!  and then asking me for an access code that I did not have because (rinse and repeat).  

I hung up and eventually found my way through to the promise of a real person. So the next 10 minutes was spent on hold.  Finally a young man came on to "help" me.

Turns out - the number on the card that they handed me was wrong, and the only way to fix this is for me to go back into the bank...

Hoo boy.  Wish me luck!

(Picture of Dad holding court with (anti-clockwise) his brother, his sister, her daughter, Mum and my aunt)
 

Wednesday Morning Whirring

 My day started just before 3:15am, because 3:15am is when I finally said "bother" and got up out of bed.

I have the whirs going on in my brain.  Lets hope that there is a bit of whir left for when I get to work, because they pay me to use my brain.

Part of my whir is that this time in four weeks I will no doubt be whirring madly, as we will be about to board a flight to the other side of the world to visit V's family.

Part of my whir is all of the things that need to happen work wise in those four weeks. 

Part of my whir is all the family stuff that has to happen and that I will have and that I will miss.

Part of my whir is my to do list for the day before.

So instead I got up, made a cup of tea (ahhh, bliss), read a few blogs and applied for a quiz show.

 

 

This is not the photo that I ended up using, because all I can see in that photo is the mess of V's hanging above my head because the house that we live in has a storage issue.   

On the upside, there is no mess of all my sewing to do pile in the background because I did sort that after my whir on the weekend realising that it was my second to last "full" weekend at home before we go.

This falls in the "family stuff that I will miss" - and we will see if my phone photos work any better when I get to the "family stuff that has to happen" because it has really decided to do some retro 70s style stuff of late. 

Anyhoo - off to fix that whole "how to organise a Tuesday 27 days away" thing that got me up in the first place.
 

Any travel tips? 

Doctors dumbfounded and specialists stupefied

 "A Hospital failure cured" reads the headline when searching for a forebear "John Burgess"

I do not think that the gentleman cited is my great -great-grandfather, as he was never a greengrocer.

It was read with great mirth.

Enjoy this advertising extravaganza with me.

From The Bundaberg Mail and Burnett Advertiser - Fri 14 Jan 1898 - Page 3 

 A Hospital Failure Cured.

DOCTORS DUMBFOUNDED AND SPECIALISTS STUPEFIED.

It then goes on to introduce you to a gent who "was cured at last by Dr Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People."

I don't think that this ad would pass the pub test these days.

But maybe they were onto something.

Mr John Burgess, in conversation with our reporter, had "been an invalid for over nine years, suffering from hip-joint disease and sciatica."

(My great-great-grandfather  had also never been "thrown out of a cab" or indeed been to Botany)

After six months at the Prince Alfred Hospital he was deemed incurable.

A hopeless case, to the extent that his third and last doctor  stated that "he did not wish to visit me any longer, as it was simply taking money out of my pocket to put into his, without being able to afford me the slightest relief."

I would quote the whole thing but am not sure of the copyright requirements of an ad from an (a?) 129 year old newspaper.

Anyhoo , he eventually (after a litany of woe) is "induced to try Dr Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People." 

This stuff, after only seven boxes had performed miracles, allowing him to hitch up horse and cart again to rebuild his greengrocer enterprise in a competitive market.

He then most graciously allowed the journalist to print his assertions and attach his name to it.

The ad then went on to extol the virtues and how to not be swindled by poor imitations.

They seem to be good for all that ails you.

I wonder what was in them.

I wish they could work it out, because this stuff was "a specific for the troubles peculiar to the female system, and in the case of men they effect a radical cure in all cases arising from mental worry, overwork, and excess of any nature".

Top stuff, hey?

Globe trotting

 In today's genealogical wanderings I discovered a most wonderful saga.

It began when an Irish widow and a Somerset widower had a drink or two together in their middle years in a corner of the world the other side from when they came.

His childhood sweetheart Esther had given birth to at least 10 children in 20 years and the youngest surviving child to 12 before she had considered her duty here on earth done when she left it.

One of those 10 children she gave birth to whilst voyaging to the new land (having left her oldest at home in the earth, with a toddler at her skirts and a curious girl of six).

That brand new creature was my great -great-grandmother.

But two years on from his wife's death, the majority of his daughters had married or were soon to do so, and with only the company of a teenager he found friends with a bottle.

That friend and he decided to cement such a beautiful relationship with vows.

For a time things went along. She too had older children. 

The Irish woman and the Somerset man had at least two more of their own. A boy and a girl.

Alas there are organs that do not do so well. (perhaps to do with the fallout from a love affair with the panacea for disappointment) The poor Irish woman succumbed to such a fate.

So distraught was he that at least one of their children was omitted from the death certificate a decade later. Or maybe his Jnr wasn't easily pinned down. 

There we news reports of behaviours that screamed intervention required for father and both of his surviving sons - one from each marriage.

He indeed hit the skids for a while and authorities deemed he was unable to competently care for the children so to an orphanage they went. (Obviously they were subsequently reunited as the son is mentioned in the obituary a decade later).

The girl who went to the orphanage never married a man named Smith (the Irish Catholic mother may have spun in her grave) but she took on his name and gave him a half dozen children.

One of whom was born on New Year's Eve 1925 with a movie star's name.

She married a Yankee soldier and took him back to Idaho - or Illinois? Maybe Indiana or Iowa - one of those vowel starting places over there.

Because we enter the US realm with this search, we get to see yearbook photos of similar named people from similar named places. And because they have a whole heap of extra people over there to here, there are a lot of yearbook photos.

The daughter of the movie-star-named girl and the dashing GI - or at least A girl with a similar name from a similar town - has one photo that is the poster child for a mousy dork - no offence, I have a few of those photos in the hoard.

I kid you not, the next photo along is definitely the same girl that is the makeover after shot and she is ROCKING the whole 1950s cheerleader vibe.

What do you reckon - put a bit of polish on it and sell it to Netflix?

A spice by any other name

 I spend a fair portion of my weekends at my parents - they are well into their 80s now and Mum has "memory issues" (because we aren't allowed to call it by the D word in Dad's world, because people write people off if they say that word).

This has put Dad into the position of carer, and he does it as well as he is able - but Dad does have some frugality issues that border on him calling his children crazy about expired food etc.

I mean, I have to give him he is still alive, but I think part of that is because Mum did pay attention to such things for a large portion of it.

He recently ran out of pepper for the table.  Rather than buy some more pepper, he figured that Mum had many spices in the cupboard unused since - well, in some instances since the 1970s (because everyone knows that spices don't go out of date *).

He figured Paprika would work, since it added some colour to what was being seasoned and sounded like pepper.

Inevitably, his paprika ran out - I did pull him up and make him buy pepper in preference to his next choice - Nutmeg...

I don't think that his sense of smell or taste are all that crash hot these days. 

Four photos

I am a terrible blogger - its not that I don't have ideas and its really not that I don't have time - although that is my excuse.  It is that I don't have ideas when I do have time all too often.

 

So to kickstart myself today, I thought that I would find four random photos from the last few weeks and just give them. 

 

This is a photo taken at an afternoon tea that my Dad had for "a few friends with cake" for his and Mum's 60th wedding anniversary.  The few friends numbered 25, which lead to a bit of a mad scramble on my part.  In this photo, Dad is seated and his primary school classmate Laurie has the floor.  Laurie was the postmaster and tennis coach from my childhood, but apparently Dad and he had a few adventures when younger, and he told them with a great deal of wit on this occasion.  We were really there with the tiny trailer and the 60" concrete pipe at this point!

One of the blessings of spilling a half a cup of water on a bench when the drawer beneath is slightly ajar is that the 15 years of accumulated "stuff" has to be taken out and organised.  I am not by nature a tidy person - it takes effort EVERY DAY to not be able to be tracked by the detritus left in my wake - but I consider organising therapy at times.

 

I must admit, this really tickled my fancy - but some people just didn't get it.  Do I have a weird sense of humour?

 It is amazing how much this cat has grown, even since this photo.  She can be very "helpful" in the office.

To quote another blogger that I read today, just got rid of a whole lot of blah-blah-blah that really only needed to escape my head, didn't need to go to yours.

Have a lovely day - its now Thursday here and my mother-in-law's 80th birthday.  HB RB (and Uncle B too) 

A Wedding and Three Funerals

 Well, May's been a month for it (so far), hasn't it.

I had the expected - a weekend with Mum so Dad could go to a birthday party, organising a special acknowlegement through the representatives of the elected government to get the crowned head of state to comply and wish them a happy 600th wedding anniversary - you know, just your regular logistical palaver.

But also the unexpected (but expected) of the reality of mortality, and the need to make a connection in our lives.

So yes, some philosophy too.

Oh, and I unexpectedly (totally) binge-watched two-thirds of Ted Lasso too.

So really, the title of this post should be "A party, an email, a complete re-arrangement of a house, a scammer, two blows of death's bell, a drive with my daughters, a baseball game's requirement of an Apple subscription, an impromptu gathering delighting many and manifesting hostessing skills I had here-to-forth eschewed (thank god for Sal), a memory, a discovery of an addictive yet quirky soccer show, the third strike, a phone session to overcome an eighty-five year old's technological difficulties in order to attend an online funeral, a memorial service, a library trip and some great curry" but it wouldn't cover everything.

 

RIP Jack W.  I am so glad that you got to sit with your mates one last time.

Vale Lorraine.  You were a mentor and a saviour to me and to many of this town.  Your friendship and generosity of spirit was a blessing to have known and to have received.

And oh, beautiful Queen Jean. I am so glad to have known you and have had you in our lives for all of those years.  You live on forever in our hearts.