The surgeon offered a nice bit of plastic surgery to change the shape of his nose, which he politely refused on the grounds that he was used to it as it was thank you – at which the surgeon was apparently quite put out. He apparently fancied himself as a nose-modeller.
A new nose
This man does the op at the General, and also at one other place which is still run by nuns and at neither of those does he charge for his services. He keeps a list for people who need the op more urgently than the waiting list of eighteen months at the General but have no insurance. Then he charges enough for three if you have insurance. And the hospital is equally expensive – they charge the use of the theatre by the minute! I think it’s a good thing I am only having a local: I can see they don’t waste any time saying good morning! I suppose it’s a fair enough system, except of course that our insurance only covers 80% of the actual charges. The whole system is a bit reminiscent of panel beaters, I think, though the surgeons probably wouldn’t like the comparison!
Our dentist – the one who sold half his practice – now charges his remaining patients double and spends the rest of his time modelling (most beautifully) the most terribly twee and often-disproportionate little figurines. His stuff sells like hot cakes.
She has the chance to be a sales rep. for this odd man (I don’t really trust him!) who gives her so many odd jobs, from modelling to hostessing at the Fair and being receptionist for his office whenever his secretary lets him down.
We went for a picnic in the park at the end of my street to watch the sun set on the old millennium. Very low key – we were the only ones there. I even have some very poor photos of the last sunset over X for the next millennium (they may be worth a fortune by the next if they survive that long). Then we caught the tram to X where there was entertainment and after all the excitement of the clock ticking was over we walked home and had a cup of tea and lamingtons.
The millennium
Of course, like just about everyone, we went to a big bash to celebrate the Millennium. The village put on a terrific do with wonderful food, fantastic disco and a really spectacular firework display to round off an absolutely marvellous start to the New Year.
I’ve been learning Tsonga – the mother language of the ones spoken around here – recently. It seems quite easy after Russian, but not very guessable – as most European languages are.
He even let X divine for water the other day! It seems a spring was causing the water in the drive which they thought was the soak-away.
A local boy got separated from a school in some local bush and disappeared. Parties were out combing the bush for him. We offered help but they said it was difficult country and they kept to people with knowledge of it. So I tried a dowse, with no knowledge except boy 11, but felt certain I had got a reaction, and X, bless him, in the pouring rain, and I set off in gumboots and macs and drove to the end of a track as near as we could get to the bush I wanted. I was a little taken aback when I saw how wild it was, but we set off and crossed the river as soon as it looked shallow enough. Once I’d got my gumboots full and X just didn’t try but walked in the river in his shoes, it was quicker; after scrambling about 1 1/2 hours upstream and only covering between quarter to half a mile we were soaked through, I’ve never been so wet, and X said there was about 200 more yards and then we’d have to go straight up into the bush (and we hadn’t brought any food) I fear I gave in. Just as well – 2 days later they found his body in quite a different place. We don’t know what happened but he was cremated the next day, and the announcement said ’killed in an accident’ – I suppose he fell. Very sad.
I’ve got a super $32 book on the world’s oil wells which is s’posed to be for ref. only but I begged it from the rather pleasant odd type at the Library – I know he thinks I’m a bit scatty and obviously knows what I’m at as both the dowsing books and oil books are kept in the technical and scientific section. I’ve been stymied for a while as none of my depths coincided with the depths in the book – but I think I’m on the right track again now. Did I tell you X and I are going to look at the place I think there’s a seepage on the surface – one on shore which should be easy to confirm and one near the shore which I’m told you should be able to see from shore as if the water is still you see the bubbles and oil patches on the sea. If I can get a skindiver to go and have a look-see for a reasonable amount I’ll try that but it is about 60ft down.
X was anxious to have another look for her spring at the zoo, and we did a drive around all the local roads to spy out the ground. We found one dead end road which ran up to the top of the hill, roughly where she wanted to go, and we found a gap between the houses to look down about 300 ft onto the playing field where she had dowsed. And I then suggested she should just pop up to a house about another 100 ft up some very steep steps. I had to wait a long time for her, and was just wondering whether she had passed out from the heat, when I heard her again. She had apparently been able to go through the back garden and find some traces of what was probably the same water source. So that was very satisfactory. [And from a later letter] X’s report and map of the zoo water, which went off nine days ago, and had not turned up by Monday. So she started pestering the Post Office, who nowadays have a lot of machinery (computers) to chase up any parcel that goes astray. And at last they rang yesterday to say that it had turned up and was being sent by special delivery, and they were very sorry and would refund her expense. So that was satisfactory for the idea of getting yet another copy of the map and tracing off her streams on it was a despairing thought!
Sad, sad – the latest well on which I’d staked my all, including 500 shares, was reported dry yesterday, so as I was so sure, I’ve resigned, and told the man at DSIR I’m nonplussed. I know something happens, and must try and find another map dowser to advise me what I’m doing wrong; the reactions are so definite I’m still convinced there’s something.
Here, summer is on its way, so one hour in the garden is very welcomed; the runner beans are pointing the right way; the red currants are getting bigger, and my favourite lily of the valley is divine.
Filling the wheely bin
The wheely bin cost me about $150 for a year’s hire, so it is worth trying to fill it each week. At the moment we are doing well as the bush with red berries has been getting obstreperous and last week I chopped it all back to the height of the fence which not only filled the bin but left enough over to do it again this week.
I said nothing was happening here but I’ve had 2 pink blooming trees in my long view and a very bright rhododendron and a large 20’-30’ mauve magnolia outside my sitting room window and I’ve put lots of plants in my new bed and far too many in another, I now know what a ‘riot of colour’ means. They’re all 3 times as large as I expected. I bought a plant of mauve chrysanthemums to replace the cyclamen that’s lasted for months – and cheaper than buying a bunch of spring flowers. Mine aren’t pickable sorts – apart from the daffodils and if I can count them there aren’t enough to pick!!
We attacked the garden. We uprooted about half the waist-high weeds and planted carrots, broccoli, potatoes and pumpkin beside the rhubarb and silverbeet we found so now we’re hoping for selective showers – to water the vegetables but not the weeds or grass!
The half row of runner beans are wonderful – I have had them every night for nearly a month! and put down enough for 5 days in the df and had some broccoli I’d grown, which was revolting!!
I thoroughly upset X in the middle of the evening. Actually I was talking to Y and uncharitably commenting on the bride’s dress as a bit inappropriate in the circumstances, when X [mother of the bridegroom] came up in time to hear the final part, which she took grave objection to, and found she said ‘very hurtful’. I couldn’t for the life of me see why she should be hurt, but attempts at apology were rejected, and the next day she was to begin with still cutting me dead.
An 8 year old was trying to explain, with great forbearance, to his little sister how 8 pennies were 8 pennies whether they were stretched out or not. The last word came from a small-voiced little sister ‘I’m tired of these pennies’!
I helped her cover two divans, two full length bolsters, one made up of all her little old scatter cushions wrapped in an eiderdown, and one from an old Dunlopillow mattress, complete with ends made of tinlids covered with load of old nylons and then the same material to each end, looked very professional! Plus upholstering a small armchair and the piano stool, a door sausage, and washing and recovering some of the remaining scatter cushions.
Harare doesn’t sound much fun. X has just come back from France and like so many other English is thinking in terms of buying a house over there. Y still to-ing and fro-ing the world and going to Mongolia for 10 days in March – after that he has to go back to Jo’burg which he doesn’t enjoy. I do wish you would all stay in England – perhaps you will?
[They] were much as I expected – pleasant and homely – lived for 30 years in X and mean to stay there – I’m sometimes quite jealous of people with roots, I never seemed to grow any.
Did you hear Prince Philip’s opening remark on arrival by air – ‘What a scruffy little airport this is – you’ve not done much in the last 5 years’! However, it’s obviously had effect and everybody is blaming everybody for not getting on with it.
Well, the highlight of the week was, of course, the Queen’s visit. No, I didn’t join the throng and stand 2 1/2 hours for a ‘close-up’. I was about 7 years old when the last Royal Visit took place but I remember it VERY well. My sister did a lovely scrap book of articles and pictures from magazines and papers… Although the rain was most welcome it could have waited 2 days. We had floods!!
We have been having a good nostalgic wallow this week via the TV coverage of your Jubilee. We enjoyed seeing the procession to St. Paul’s and back from Guildhall: and the Lord Mayor’s toast and the Queen’s reply at Guildhall I found moving – apart from admiring the technical excellence of both the speech-making and the TV. To be able to get near close-ups from the full length of the Guildhall calls for a pretty fantastic standard in the manufacture of this lenses for the cameras – and I can’t think how they manage to keep the cameras steady enough. Last night they showed us the bonfire lighting from Windsor and we enjoyed that too – the Queen looked so delighted with the whole proceedings.
Filed words 