So that’s it until June

I can’t move, after all: I didn’t find a place to move to in the month after which I’d told my Property Manager I would be gone.

Of all the places I found – not sure how many, but probably around a dozen – there were three I really and truly wanted: one was in the CBD, one in Malvern and one in Carlton. The first one I was rejected for without explanation – this is the bit that hurts, when they tell you no but go on advertising the place – the second I was mucked about by an expert mucker-abouter to whom I passed on that he’s una pezza di merda because he has an Italian name; and the third was the very last place I saw.

It was a dear little newish place with everything I must have – a bedroom, dishwasher and split system, and in a simply gorgeous environment of trees and plants. However ! it seems I have finally achieved a degree of common sense, for I didn’t even apply .. It is in the middle of – like, nothing. Other residential buildings, all nice and equally nicely landscaped. Not a shop in sight of any kind at all. Sure, only six or seven minutes’ walk to the tram, but one must actually travel on it to reach the Carlton shops in Lygon Street. Here all I need do to reach my delightful pharmacist is manage the ghastly intersection of Leicester, Victoria and Elizabeth Streets with their array of slow lights and Bob’s yer uncle. And I mention Cheryl’s pharmacy because an old fart of my age is in frequent need of same, just to keep up with her scripts, let alone buy hair bleach, non-soap bodywash and so forth.

And knowing me, the prospect of those unavoidable minutes of walking before being able to go anywhere would render me even more likely to sit in my lovely big recliner chair, crocheting, with Boodie between my shins.

I think these lovely little flats were designed for students who have scooters or bikes, for there is a nice big empty space just inside the front door, absolutely suitable to park one of these. Whilst I would give my back teeth to have someone teach me how to ride an e-scooter, I wouldn’t be able to count on there being one nearby whenever I needed it.

So, I turned my back on it, with great sadness. As my sister Paula and I agreed by phone, I wasn’t meant to move at this time.

What in the name of all the gods I’m going to do come the end of May –  chissà ? Something will turn up. Maybe aged care. Oh jesus  ..

It’s my lucky day !

Hope you can make it out; it would be a shame to miss it. 😦

I haven’t had this kind of spam for absolutely yonks; wonder why it’s started up again ?

Oh well, I guess any change from the ENDLESS ads for online casinos should be welcomed. And after all, that is a superior German product !  🙂

Another loop ..

Look ! – they’ve added a shitload of cables and things. Only the gods know what stuff they’re all for.

And speaking of the stuff, see the silt build-up in the tanks ?

But the fun activity today is the truck sucking up who knows what from the pit. You shoulda seen the backing and filling for him to get his hose into position !

And before the sucking-up began, a bloke climbed down the ladder and totally disappeared into the pit. I wonder what he could conceivably be doing ?! – I suppose ensuring that the truck’s pipe keeps its end in, as it were .. [grin]

Just keeping yous in the loop

So I l peer over the balcony and see THAT !! – gallons and gallons (whatever gallons are in metric measurement) of .. some liquid being poured out from left to right into the top left corner of the tank on the left – from  behind the little tree – and also from the tank on the right. Right ?

So what the fuck is going on ? What IS the yellow liquid [shudder !] and where is it going ?!

It’s travelling along that thick hose that comes out of the l.h. tank on its bottom left, curling around the blue shed thingy and going .. BACK INTO THE PIT !!!

[gasp !]

Said I would, didn’t I ..?

Yeah, it’s on again – me moving.

Showing you that I shot from my balcony.

And that is the latest version. Doubt it’s the final one.

The full intersection:  Elizabeth Street, Victoria Street and the beginning of Leicester Street – luverly, isn’t it ? There’s no end to the construction, it seems. You may begin to comprehend why I turn once more to my (other) hobby – moving.

I will keep you updated, regardless of the fact that you haven’t the slightest wish to have that happen .. and, in fact, will avert your eyes from updating posts. I am relentless: I SHALL UPDATE.

[grin]

On Life – or, rather, On Cholesterol

I’m immortal, surely ! – I must be.

It isn’t possible that I’m going to kark at any stage: I’m ME, alive, breathing, thinking, eating, writing, crocheting, loving my little mog and a small, select group of humans and [deep breath] planning to move again. (Shut up. More later.)

But.

Friday I saw my GP, who explained to me a report from another doctor who wrote it after seeing what is known as a ‘calcium score’ CT scan. Cecile – my GP, in whom I have a great deal of trust, but it is not unlimited – had about a year ago found signs of atrial fibrillation and sent me to a cardiologist. He could not find any more signs, and in fact none have since been found .. except that the calcium score the other day has – as some kind of next step up, presumably – this time found atherosclerosis. O joy ! – disease that killed my father at 64.   😦

So, having become a dedicated fan of Malcolm Kendrick’s since my younger sister introduced me to his book “The Great Cholesterol Con”, which I followed with his “The Clot Thickens”, I’m suddenly actually involved in it all !

What do I mean by “it” ? – I refer to the facts that prove beyond any doubt to me – as well as to Paula, and now (deo gratias !) to many doctors around the world – that cholesterol, far from being bad, is both good and vitally necessary. And that statins are very likely to be the worst con perpetrated on humans by other humans, ever ! (For which you must blame Big Pharma, who are making billions of bucks out of them.)

I must go visit the cardiologist again, as soon as I can get an appointment. It will be interesting. Cecile simply wrote in her referral to him that “she is not on statins” and has handed me on to him with a big sigh of relief. I suggested as she was typing that she should say “and if you can get her onto them you’ll be succeeding where I have failed absolutely !”, but she demurred .. [grin]

I think my major interest now is in ascertaining what he has in mind. An angiogram ? And if it does indeed prove that artery/arteries is/are atherosclerotic, what then ? Because au fond, as the French say succinctly, any treatment by statins he has in mind is never going to be undertaken by me. Not ever. So is there actually any point in an angiogram ?

The cardio is not going to be tickled pink with me. What can I say in my own defence ? Well, there have been many times when the entire medical fraternity has been proven wrong about something, and the cholesterol “diet/heart hypothesis” is IT, currently. I have read Malcolm Kendrick – sorry, I have listened to two of his books, and I agree with everything he writes: the logic is irrefutable. Imnsho it is not possible to take in what he says and not believe it. And below is the kind of simplified garbage that you find on Google – or presumably any search engine – if you go searching on “cholesterol”:

It’s utter bullshit. There ain’t no sech thing. Eat as much fat, of all kinds (not counting trans fats !) as you like/want.

Read Malcolm Kendrick and become another believer !

 

Very strange .. it’s all new !

I hear stuff I doubt I’ve heard before – the noise that pulling on my jeans makes, to start with. Then the startling loudness of me swearing when I don’t get the hook into the first eye behind my bra – heavens ! Can the whole building hear me too ?? Are they all rolling their eyes and telling their partners “Uh-oh .. she’s getting dressed !”

I think tomorrow I won’t put in these hearing-aids until after I’m dressed.

 

Anyone think this augurs well ??

Here are three images shot from my little balcony that overlooks not only my own thoroughfare – Leicester Street (try to imagine me telling Chinese people my address ..) – but also the intersection of Elizabeth Street and Victoria Road, of which you can see a bit on the left:

 I hear it’s going to be for sewerage.

Let us pray that no-one puts a pick through a pipe.

Now this is really a-ma-zing !!

And I’ve been telling visitors to the city of my heart, where I now live forever (well for a few more years, anyway) that they’ve missed many construction deadlines !

If this latest report is true – and seeing as how those caustic comments of mine were also based on media reports, I may be forgiven for being a wee bit sceptical, I reckon – there is hope that I WILL live to see it !!!

My usual snide remark was along the lines of “Naah – it’s not going to happen in my lifetime !”, which fact I very much regretted.

Now, out of an orange-coloured sky, it seems FLASH ! – BAM ! – ALAKAZAM ! and it’s all happening, not only on time but (give me strength !) IN ADVANCE !!!

Must be the solitary occasion on which a huge government construction project has managed that.

Yes, I am indeed cynical about huge government construction projects. It is not possible to be otherwise, Downunder. And the worst place of all for them is my erstwhile abode, Sydney – a history of badly-planned, grossly over-spent and totally epic proportions of failure in such activity.

I can only hope that Oz is not alone in this aspect of its .. ahh .. development.

I PROMISE this will be the last (for a while, anyway !)

My second attempt at the new way of crocheting sweaters and cardis took a bit longer than it should’ve, owing to the fact that I did an unutterably silly thing and used my whole bust measurement rather than half of it for the cardi’s width !!

You will possibly imagine my language when I realised I had crocheted so far past the mid-point where I was due to turn and go back (to start to create the open front) that I was almost at the far side .. Even Boodie looked shocked, and after these nearly five years that’s saying something !!

Anyway, I frogged the part I didn’t need by using my yarn-baller – which activity was so fraught with rage-inducing tangles that I wished I’d just pulled it out and made a big pile of yarn – and duly made the split.

So that’s it, the new cardi. Being worn by a very old person – although I do make a possibly unreasonable claim that the lift’s overhead light doesn’t do me any favours !!

It’s done using a stitch called “Reverse Blanket Stitch”, and I made (again) a shawl collar – although not as wide as the last time. I like shawl collars – they’re .. well, adaptable ! 🙂 I graduated the sleeves, having made ’em by starting them across the mid-points of the sides and decreasing as I went. LOVE less seaming ! –  not good at seaming, me.

OK, now I show you a comparison between how I used to make cardis and this one. Anyone who says s/he can’t see the difference is bullshitting me. The ones immediately below are voluminous, basically. The one at the top actually FITS.

So this is the New Way crocheter signing off for a pretty long time. It’s a marvellous adventure I’ve embarked on, this using my own yarn and hook and design and then swatching and off I go !

Oh, and btw: I drew the lounge blinds to try to make a better background for the photo taken in the bedroom, of which the wall is glass. Hence semi-gloom. Even when I have a full-length mirror I can’t take decent photos. Sorry.

STOP PRESS: so here’s the cardi spread out on the carpet, for want of anywhere else to spread it. At least you get some idea of the stitch pattern ! – and can marvel that I even managed to get the stitch/row counts right when dealing with a 5-stitches on a 4-stitch base pattern. WOT ? – you have no idea what I’m raving on about ? Lucky yous.  😀