I spent most of this week with my head feeling like it was full of cotton wool. I know that I didn’t focus as much as I should have on preparing for our move, but I seemed to be stuck in some sort of emotional jelly. With Sarah in hospital I had a sense that I just wasn’t achieving much between visits. As hard as I tried I couldn’t get out of the trap. I realised that I simply needed to stop worrying and try and go with the flow.
I know some of you are also following/reading Sarah’s blog, particularly Hippy Times, as she recounts her hip replacement and journey through rehabilitation to showcase how people can get back into the gym, but also provide a better understanding of our bodies. For this reason I will attempt to avoid a double up on the stories, but if you are not following Hippy Times you can read it here to fill in some of the gaps … Hippy Times.
Having been told that my MacPro was not repairable and misplacing the power cord to the Toshiba my (our) HP laptop is now a shared resource. The other two laptops are sat beside my desk waiting to be smashed to bits. Anyway, I decided that Sarah should have the HP while in hospital and I would use my iPad. So on Monday I dressed down in my gym gear, (note that this is a dress up for Sarah) black vest and tiny shorts … just to make Sarah feel at home. I don’t have a laptop bag so I hunted through the cupboards for the old shopping bags that Sarah collects and came across one that was suitable and would fit the HP comfortably. On my way through the hospital main entrance I grabbed a large long black for Sarah ... which became my St Vincent’s routine for the week ... and went up to the 7th floor. Sarah needed to have some x-rays and would be about an hour, so I dropped off the coffee and with my little white bag containing the HP trotted up to trendy Oxford Street in Paddington to grab some breakfast. Those of you from Sydney will know Oxford Street, Paddington and the majority population that is mixed covering the whole spectrum … should I say rainbow of … “gayness”. I suddenly realised that I seemed to fit in more than I had intended and started to become a little concerned from the unsolicited attention. It hit me that dressed in my black gym gear, tiny little shorts and carrying a little white shopping bag with “SKIN and THREADS”emblazoned on it may have been conveying the wrong message. So focused on my iPad and being very careful of my eye movement I sat it out until it was time to go back to the hospital. Could have been a close call!
On Tuesday the last of the boxes were collected. Fortunately I remembered to be at home. The post-it notes everywhere helped.
Wednesday came and went. The weather was getting a little cooler with intermittent rain so by Thursday I was wearing my old Henri Lloyd sailing jacket as I scootered to and from the hospital. Riding the Harley Street Bob and the Triumph Daytona seem a life time ago! But I had to laugh at myself … well joining in with everyone else.… The reason being that the Henri Lloyd is very light and bright. Bright yellow in fact. Because of this as I sped along it filled with air and I looked like the yellow Michelin man as the jacket pumped out with more and more air. I had instant muscle … Ha. But I probably looked like a high speed lemon on a scooter.
Saturday and I set out for Waratah Private in Hurstville, just south of Sydney. Because my glasses have quite small frames it causes my eyes to water as I speed up on the scooter. Its dangerous. I decide to use Sarah’s helmet, which has a visor. Off I jettison, but something isn’t quite right. A wavy line seems to occasionally float across my vision. Its frustrating. I try to rub the visor, but nothing happens. I put my hand up into the visor to clear whatever may be causing the line. My nose then tickles and then my cheek. I realise that it is one of Sarah’s long hairs … it couldn’t be mine! But I am on a roll. I don’t do the intelligent thing and simply pull over and remove the hair. I suffer it all the way to Hurstville. Even from a hospital bed Sarah is ever present!
When I return home from the hospital I remember that one of my growing tasks was to list the fridge/freezer and washing machine. We have left these items to the last minute for obvious reasons. The packers are in on Tuesday so I only have a few days. Up on Gumtree they go and within seconds I’m receiving messages. “how old is it?”, “what are the dimensions”?, I’ll give you $10!”and the most frustrating of all “Whats UR best offer”. Hey .. what the F** .. I put the price up … you should make me an offer. I think Gumtree should be renamed Appletree because clearly once you put something up for sale all sorts of maggots start to crawl out. One particular maggot feigned interest in the fridge/freezer. I should have known from the tone of the messages that the person was either high on something or just a complete time waster. They just seemed too enthusiastic as the messages prove …
Anyway, as pride would have it I wanted to clean up the fridge so that it was nice and sparkling for the purchaser. I had until 7:00pm. I don’t want to over dramatise the simple cleaning of a fridge, but it took what felt like for ever. As clean as we are it seems a fridge attracts small pieces of stuff that you really don’t notice until you set out to give it an overhaul. I could hear little crumbs and previously unseen milk stains pointing and laughing at me as they joked how long it had taken for me to find them. So I attacked the fridge and killed them all, but it was a long campaign. I then needed to pull the fridge out to check the back and of course I was presented with another field of attack. Part of the problem is that there is so much building going on in Sydney, particularly Zetland, that the wind whips up the dust and it just gets everywhere. The city roads leading into the cbd are close and obviously busy so the combination requires constant cleaning diligence. But where it is unseen it grows and grows like a monster! Having pulled the fridge out and in the process blocking the entrance to the kitchen I wondered whether it was worth pushing back or perhaps getting it out into the corridor ready for collection later. The problem was that once the rear wheels hit the carpet they would sink in and be very difficult to move. I then hit on the idea of positioning the fridge onto a towel and then simply pulling it in a sliding motion along the carpet. It seems crazy but it actually worked although I was sweating like a pig by the time fridge and I reached the front door.
Not having heard from my Gumtree “Time Waster” after advising them that I wanted to be paid by PayPal or cash and providing our address I followed up requesting an eta. In a nutshell said person … Maggot ... did not turn up and I haven’t heard from them since. I think that the ploy somehow was either a scam to get my bank details or they just thought it was funny. Well it is now I suppose …. but now I have their number!
But I was tired and disgruntled after being mucked around and there was no cold drink because I didn’t have a fridge. So I went over to Coles and bought a mobile fridge and contents. Had a Face Time call with Dave and Fi in Spain. Spoke a lot about Sarah although they have been reading the Hippy Times Blog so were pretty well up to speed.
Sunday was better all round on a number of levels. Sarah discharged herself from the hospital, I managed to sell the both the fridge and washing machine to the same buyer at full price and I witnessed a beautiful rainbow. Yesterday a lady had arranged to view the sofa’s we are selling … well ha, virtually giving away, but then text to say her car had broken down. Yeahhh … I bet!
Meanwhile my fridge customer was organising Airtasker to collect the whitegoods and he text to say they would arrive around mid afternoon. And so it was that Italo and his mate turned up. I thought they may be Italian … Italo?… , but in fact they were both from Chile on a working visa. Their little white van looked as though they had brought it with them. I had this picture of them chugging through a village in Chile with chickens flying everywhere and people scrambling. If they didn’t hit them the smoke from the exhaust would choke them. In fact they were nice lads although when I asked questions they looked at me like deer in the headlights. I wondered how certain their work permit was. Could I in fact be an Immigration Officer? Don’t say too much Italo … I hear him say to himself. I leave them at the lift and text the buyer … out of my hands now.
Sarah and I return to boxing up stuff for Lexi to collect om Monday … food and the such. I started clearing the food cupboards yesterday and threw away some things that I was advised by the quickly recovered Sarah that I shouldn’t have. The spoonful of white vinegar aparently was required for the protein bread that she was going to bake today. Things are back to normal. Thank you God for looking after my Sarah.
Until next time … 🌏