Dear Friends, last
Sunday’s breakfast was one of the most entertaining we have attended this year.
David & Sandy Castles joined us as they were spending the day in this area
looking at houses for sale. They are very keen to buy a weekender here, and are
looking at properties of all shapes and sizes. David was delightfully vague and
we did enjoy a few laughs at his expense. Janine had brought her lovely son,
Paul, with her again, and he participated wholeheartedly. Margot was back after
her cataract operation, and Bilbo got enough food to keep him happy for 24
hours. David & Sandy’s dog, Bam Bam, joined Bilbo.....fortunately he isn’t
greedy and was happy to nibble on a piece of bacon.
On Monday, I went
off to gym and returned the car in time for Wes to go to his Writers’ Group at
‘Wombat Hill House’ in the Gardens. Nick Massaro and his wife, Robyn, were
there with other friends from Woolnoughs Road in Porcupine Ridge, enjoying
their monthly breakfast get-together.
Afterwards Nick
came to give me a massage, which we did while listening to and watching the
cricket. Nick then fixed two of our doors, which refuse to lock and planed the
bottom of the front door where it has been sticking. He managed to make those
jobs last until the cricket was finished and Australia had won the 1st
Test against a depleted and injured Kiwi side.
It was a big weekend for
sacraments – on the top is my cousin, Michael Hoolihan, with his wife, Kelly,
and their children, Amelia & Archie on the occasion of their christening.
Below them is my niece, Jessie Mammino,
with her husband, Anthony, and their children, Dante & Chiara, on Chiara’s
First Communion Day.
I ended up spending
Tuesday in bed – a combination of a bad asthma attack and chronic fatigue. This
meant I missed out on the 10am film, which was ‘Everest’. There was only a
small audience, but they all enjoyed it. Judi returned our car as Michael was
arriving home from Blackheath later that night. Bilbo kept me company all day
and we both managed a sleep in the afternoon, which was very good indeed.
Wes went off to a
meeting at the Daylesford Book Barn that evening, where he and one other
listened to an ‘African Coaching Talk’, which turned out to be a couple trying
to dissuade Vietnamese from using powdered rhino horns. Apart from everything
else, with Australia’s appalling treatment of refugees, we can hardly be
critical of other countries just at present.
I was feeling much
better on Wednesday, but decided not to risk gym, where I had been so
asthmatic. Sandra came to clean at 7.30am and I headed off to play Mah Jong
about 90 minutes later. Wes had been asked to lay a wreath for Catherine King
at the Remembrance Day ceremony at 11am and afterward he headed off to visit
Margot and help her with her computer, which has been playing up again.
On Thursday, I went
to gym, where Ian McKenzie let me know that our friend, George Killingback, had
died peacefully at Daylesford Hospital. I am so pleased that I was able to
visit him at home last week, as he went into hospital the next day and
deteriorated very rapidly.
It was good to have
something to get my teeth stuck into for the rest of the day. We had bought one
of Joan Testro’s bookcases to put in the guest bedroom. It is honey-coloured
and fits perfectly and we both think it makes the room look more welcoming.
As a result of
moving books into it, I then had to tackle the main bookcases downstairs, one
side of which was in a bit of a pickle. Wes helped me by adjusting some of the
shelves then he headed off to spend the day with Barbara in Ballarat at the
Spinal Cord Meeting & lunch. Afterwards he hosted the local ALP’s Q&A
session with our immediate past Mayor, Kate Redwood.....and received rave
reviews for his efforts.
Kate & Warren at the
Daylesford Hotel
I spent the day
reorganising the books, putting some that had avoided the Inventory into it,
labelling those that weren’t already and getting it into some sort of order.
The small books are in alphabetical order, but the large books are a dog’s
breakfast and need quite a bit of work. However, I now have them standing
upright, instead of in piles and I can begin to classify them – whether
alphabetically or by subject I have yet to decide.
On Friday morning,
Wes headed off to Brunswick early to sign all the papers needed for a smooth
settlement on Monday of Joan Testro’s home. Meanwhile I took Bilbo shopping
with me before we joined the Bush Walkers doing the lovely Wombat Trail in
Trentham. We last did this walk when it was Winter, and everyone enjoyed the
dry track and the beautiful rhododendrons, which are only now showing their
best.
One of this week’s vases of roses
with Big Purple making good its boast!
We arrived home in
time for lunch and the first day of the 2nd Test at the WACA, where
Australia was lucky enough to win the toss again and bat well during the first
session.
Yesterday while Wes
spent time in the garden and at the computer, I drove to Strathmore to spend
time with Leanne. While I was there, the shocking news from Paris came through
on my phone, so Leanne turned on the TV and we watched the dreadful events
unfolding. All I could think about were two Australian friends, Viviane Vagh and
Alan Austin, hoping against hope that they were both all right.
On my return home,
Wes was able to tell me that both were OK and we decided to have lunch at
‘Jackie’s on Vincent’, where Jackie & Lisa welcomed us very warmly. Old
friend and wonderful artist, George Jackson, was there having lunch with his
friend, Peter Holthouse, another good artist. Another friend, Joyce, told us
that yet another old friend, Geof Brown, was in Daylesford Hospital and not
expected to survive the weekend. We were quite shocked and sad, but so pleased
we had found out from Joyce, rather than read a death notice in the local
paper.
Gayle Gibson’s
father, ‘Mick’ Dennis, died aged 96 in Sydney last Monday. He was a former
Commando during World War II, and was awarded the Military Medal for courage
under fire. He had a great sense of humour, was a champion swimmer &
wrestler and will be very much missed.
‘Mick’ Dennis
and another 96-year-old, Jane Knox’s
father, Frank, at Balmoral Beach this week
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