I’m having one of those lovely, quite unexpected mornings, about which a bit of background may help.

 

Last Friday, I went to my doctor in Berry to have the stitches taken out of the back of my leg – they’d been in for five weeks at that stage – however as there was still a bit of an ooze, it was decided to allow them to remain for an extra week. The surgeon had given them a six week life span, so that was OK. 

 

Now, Kerry had been upset by my behaviour a number of times recently, and told me that I needed counselling to deal with my inner anger. I could be snide and say that she believes that counselling, vitamin supplements and organic whole foods will solve the problems of the world, but I won’t, besides, she may be right. I did, for the sake of domestic harmony, acquiesce. Through my GP, I was able to make an appointment with a counsellor  who just happened to work in the same building as my doctor. At the time, we had decided to make the appointment for both – the stitches and the shrink – for today, doctor first. Unfortunately, the doctor had to cancel, so I have to go back in tomorrow. 

 

The other thread to this is that my sister, who has a house on Berry Mountain (between my house and the doctors’) was having blinds delivered and installed. She lives in Sydney, and was unable to be here (in actual fact, she had taken Mum to Terrigal on the central coast for a night in a hotel, and lots of shopping). So I put up my hand and said I’d be here here when they arrived. So here I am, sitting on her front verandah in the sun (it’s too cold in the house), drinking coffee from mr thermos (that ‘mr’ thermos was actually a typo, it should have been ‘my’, but I’ll leave it, if only so anyone reading this will think that I’m the sort of soft headed imbecile that gives pronouns willy-nilly to all sorts of inanimate utilitarian objects. We’ve all met the type. But I’m only pretending). And a very nice coffee it is, too. It’s the Aldis fair trade organic blend, it replaced Lavazza in my life a couple of years ago, and most agreeably.

 

What’s so unexpected about this morning? Well, precisely that it’s so agreeable. I suppose I looked upon it as a bit of a brotherly duty, after all, with what Fiona did for me whilst I was in hospital, I am considerably in her debt, although neither of us are the type to keep checks and balances. It’s interesting being here for a number of reasons. 

 

At home, sitting around in the garden annoys me, as there is always something nagging at me that I should be doing. Since the accident this has been impossible, which leads to frustration, which leads to counselling(!). Here though, I can make a list of things that I would do if I had responsibility for the place. I can prune trees (some savagely), install the sort of drainage down the driveway that would mean it would never get washed away again, paint the roof, wash the solar panels and construct the most productive of vegetable gardens, bird proofed, of course! Then I can take my list and eat it (unsalted), set fire to it with a match, or pretend its one of those notes that just self destructs in ten seconds anyway, because its not my problem.

 

Another thing is of course, that I did go to this counsellor, where I got to talk about myself non stop for about an hour! Fantastic, and the good thing is that she seemed genuinely interested, and didn’t appear to get bored at all. I went to a counsellor once before, soon after Dad died, and I felt  that I owed this fine person some sort of debt of gratitude, and therefore did my best to try and keep her entertained, which I did. I warned this new one of this, and promised that if the sessions take off, I would try to be ruthlessly selfish.

 

The third thing about being here this morning is that the sounds of Fiona’s bush, whilst just the same as mine, are so different. Maybe it is because they come from different directions, or that there’s more of some things. I know that the bees are quite loud on this first day of August, and I’m wondering what is in blossom to keep them so active. (I just went and had a look, and they are massing around the catkins on what I think are elm trees, of which there are three or four nearby). The sounds of the frogs are also far more noticeable than they are at home, but then her dam is so much closer to the house than ours is. The bird sounds are the same, but at home they are stronger than here. The blue wrens, fire tail finches and spine bills aren’t as dominant on this side of the house as it’s mostly northern hemisphere plants, the other side is far more akin to their natural habitat.

 

Speaking of these elms, they already have their leaves on them. Many of the other deciduous trees here are budding ready for leaf or blossom. It really has been a pathetic winter, the last week has been in the upper teens and low twenties. No frost at home, as far as I’ve been aware, and an ornamental prunus is already in blossom. A couple of weeks ago we did have a bit of winter, 3 – 10 C, but it only lasted a week, and now everything wants to bud. Pathetic. You can’t turn boys into men with this sort of weather! Climate change has been talked about for so may years now, should there be any surprise in this? The flippancy with which the bulk of the human species has approached this issue does not seem funny at all. Go skiing while you can.