Self indulgence. Now and Then: Memoirs of a Sort.

MEMOIRS: PERSPECTIVE IS IMPORTANT.

67 years ago I wasn't even thought about, so there was nothing to celebrate and no perspective to perceive. I'm still around having achieved a few satisfying and not so great things in those years. I hated school and was dismally unsuccessful. It wasn't until I was 32 that I realised that studying and learning could be fun, satisfying, interesting and enjoyable. Ali tutored me through a whole new experience. It was a revelation. I learnt to take x rays, plus a bit more. I took x-rays of a tiger and lots of tuataras on a remote island in the Cook Straight at night, as well as broken bones, swallowed objects, blocked coronary arteries, CT and MRI scans. However, it wasn't until we returned to NZ that I discovered that when doing CT in NZ 'PV' means 'portal venous', and I always thought it was something else! No wonder I was stopped from doing CT at Warwick!!

It was a thrill, and enabled me to have 32 generally very happy working years, after I had had a fun time bumming around for 14 years. Now I'm loving the new job of 'retirement'.

In February I had to celebrate suddenly becoming an even older codger so we went to Manly Beach and watched the surfers, we loved the Sydney Art Gallery and a stunning walk through the botanical gardens. We spent wonderful time with the best aunt possible in the whole world of anyone's aunts (unbiased judgement), Ali's aunt Bryanne, who lives in Sydney. Good laughs, frivolous fun, interesting chat, scrummy food, lovely lattes; what's not to like?

Crikey, how my life has changed, from living in a 3rd floor 3 room flat, sweeping roads for Reading Borough Council, washing thousands of milk bottles a day, driving twice a day from Preston to Morecambe delivering spark plugs to garages, delivering pizzas in Melbourne, climbing rocks, sweeping the squash courts and vacuuming the pool of rubbish at the poshest time-share place in UK, sailing and paddling boats to living on 8 hectares where we chain-saw and chop our fire wood up, rely on the sun for electricity and hot water, actually want rain, but not too much so we can have a shower, enjoy feeding animals even though they can feed themselves and have to go on an hour long egg hunt to try to find the chickens eggs which are randomly hidden - anywhere. Even though I'm retired I earn reward by working on the vineyard, picking olives, being a waiter and growing amazing vegetables. I get paid by the bottle of chardonnay, or litre of olive oil per hour. Occasionally I get some pocket money to spend. We used to have neighbours all of 1.5 metres away, now our neighbours are 1.5 kms away.

well hidden eggs

Wood stacking for the winter. Sheepie is fed up because their shelter is being filled up.

Oh my Gosh. Cyclone Gabrielle. What a mess. Worse than a nightmare. We were so lucky. We were on the periphery of the cyclone with a bit of wind and some rain continuous rain, for about 24 hours. In the 2 years we've been here we've had wind that has blown trees down and rain that has raised the level of the river by about 2 metres. But Gabrielle didn't visit us. Up north houses were washed miles down stream, cars turned up side down like a child's toy in the bath, bridges washed away and people climbed into the roof space of their house to avoid the rising water only to have to bash a hole in the roof to avoid the continuing rising water. Some were rescued from rooves by boat, where boats have never been able to get to before and others have seen people float past as they have clung to life on their roof. A big culprit that helped cause the damage was all the debri left by forestry when they have finished chopping down a forest of pine trees (strangely referred to as 'exotics', to give legitimacy), the debri creates artificial dams and then when the dam can't hold the water any longer it just bursts through causing a big tidal wave that makes the Seven Bore look like a ripple.

Rescuing a cow jaw deep in mud. Silt up to the top of the garage door.

We once camped in our little 2 person coffin sized tent high up in the hills of the Picos de Europa. As I washed up by the small lake I looked down to the sea to see a lightening display that made those in London at new year look like vegetarian fireworks. As the night went on the lightening got closer, the wind got up and the rain came down. We lay there clinging to the tent. wondering if it mattered that the tent poles were metal. At that time we were pretty scared, but perspective is important, what has happened up north pales our little blow job in to insignificance.

Now fields, orchards and vineyards are 2 metres in faecal infested silt. Electricity was cut off, water polluted and roads washed away. We've been so lucky. Let's not forget the 45000 people killed in Turkiye and Syria in their earthquake. 11 have been killed here.

All this was preceded by severe flooding in Auckland, where the departure / check-in area at the international airport was 40cms deep in water.

No departures from Auckland today!!

All these people must have been so scared and that puts into perspective fears I have had. They pale into insignificance. Some memorable climbs had my legs trembling like a Singer sewing machine, Overhanging Bastion, Little Brown jug, Tophet Wall, West Gully in Lochnagar in Winter and Deer Bield crack made me sweat. Coming out of my canoe in a ferocious stopper wave on the Lune made me realise the speed at which life could be over, getting lost in the Australian bush on Wilson's prom reminded me that a map may be a good idea and inadvertently paddling through the Falls of Lora near Oban scared me **1*less. The house shaking with the help of an earthquake reminded me that some things we have no control over. The poor folks up north have no control over the full force of nature. I actually chose to get myself scared.

West Gully Lochnagar

Over-Hanging Bastion, Castle Rock

Little Brown Jug, Bosigran

Falls of Lora under the Connell Bridge, Oban. This white water and whirlpools happens on both ebb and flow.

Confidentiality requirements, the Privacy Act and exemption from the Freedom of Information Act prevents me from divulging anything, and despite blood test results I easily managed a 40kms bike ride to the Otaki Kite Festival. Despite cyclonic winds up north we had a perfect day for a bike ride. Sun and not a breath of wind. Sadly it wasn't a great day for kite flying, but a few of the smaller kites got up, it was so so pretty and colourful. It's a pity there wasn't more wind otherwise we would have seen a flying orca, a giant green turtle and a massive lammergeier falcon; all of which we have seen anyway, but only the lammergeier flying.

The ride back was good until my chain broke, so I linked it up again (I carry a chain link remover), then the rear derailleur broke so I took about 6 inches of chain out and re-joined it but the weakest link broke again. We were only about 4kms from the car so Ali went to get it whilst I tried yet another repair. I was so heartened by the number of people who stopped to offer help, and equally as disheartened by all those that didn't. The best though was a 62 year old grey haired golf club member lady in a smart car who pulled up along side me and offered to give me a lift, plus bike. Make of that what you will. Either she was desperate, hard up or simply super kind. I reckon the latter. I didn't chance my luck, Ali was on her way back with our car to pick me up. Isn't she just so super kind. Choices!!

Keeping a perspective is so important. I remember vividly seeing poorly people at Warwick hospital where I had 13 generally very happy years. I used to cycle to work and run 5kms ParkRun every Saturday. So many couldn't. I still can.

Fear from physical harm, illness and the environmental carnage are overt, but the covert can be also be mighty difficult. It is expected that up north there will be a huge increase in mental illness where people have lost so much. I have always struggled with a sense of emotional and social inadequacy. A lack of self esteem and confidence. A real feeling that I rarely get things right, which can be compounded by peoples behaviour and words. I celebrated with a phone call to Ali when one of many suggestions at my Dad's house clear out was actually acknowledged as worthwhile, and for once not dismissed. One! Clearly I'm rubbish. It's something I have had to work hard on. I refer to myself as a 'social cripple', but I do my best to overcome that and maintain a social contact. It's a struggle and advice given to me was 'don't talk about yourself, ask people about them'. So I did, but got horribly criticised for asking questions. "Oh here goes rich again, with his questions"; how rude! How harsh! All I thought I was ever doing was showing an interest in others. I don't do it any longer, I just sit in silence.. I'm sorry for the annoyance I brought with me. I can understand the difficulty Adrian Chiles describes in his recent Guardian article. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/feb/23/loneliness-is-awful-so-every-day-i-try-to-start-a-conversation-with-a-stranger

The quiet solitude in my life at present is quite nice, 19 kms from town and a kilometre from our neighbour, even though Ali worries that I am socially isolated!!! But we do have the loveliest neighbours, we know some smashing people around and about and I have my resident therapists.

From the dinner table

Lois, our larger than life wonderful neighbour came bouncing across our paddock in her ute full of the joys of life. She bore wine, a lovely t-shirt and a tree. The t shirt went on, the wine was drunk, the volume of conversation went up and the tree will be planted soon. It was all good fun, general discussion, farmers talk and very few questions. Such nice neighbours.

Birthday presents from Lois. T-shirt, tree and the wine has been drunk.

As summer comes, so does some warmth, which means I slither into a bit of slow motion action. I spent 2 days helping good friends Trevor and Frances bottle their cider, ready to be drunk with great pleasure in 2 years time. Only about 2000 bottles, so it'd better be worth it. The grapes are getting juicy which is exactly what the birds like so I've been plying the rows of vines putting nets over them. The resulting wine is of course much more important than the birds bellies. That'll be followed by picking the grapes and then taking the nets off. My present cycle of life.

The cider bottling plant The cellar

Something technical.

I'm still getting some good therapy from the menagerie. With the warmth we decided that the alpacas and sheeps should take their jerseys off. Cass came over and wrestled the alpacas to the ground, strung them out and gave them a No 1. Either they are severely anorexic, malnourished, or related to Victoria Beckham without implants. Whilst Cass was here we rolled the sheeps over and gave them a hooficure, as in pedicure and a squirt of anti athletes foot spray, 'athlete', hmm, maybe that is being a bit generous to them, strollers foot spray.. I think they should love it the way we look after them, but I'm not sure they really appreciate it; a few weeks earlier they had a hair cut at the local wooldressers, and now they all wear coats that even John Motson and every '70s football manager would be envious of. They wear coats from Harrods and not Primark. They are so cuddly and peaceful. Perspective is interesting, at school we were forbidden from having our hair on our collar, and many fun and stupid ways around the problem were implemented. Afros, the girlies hair curlers, head shaving which resulted in the kid not being taught unless he wore a hat and like the sheeps I had a No1 skin'ead. Whilst I think our sheeps are super smart, cuddly, lovable and peaceful, my dear Mum said 'oh Rich, don't get your hair cut so short, it makes you look terribly aggressive'.

Hooficure Strung up for the No1 skin'ead

Yesterday a white sheep from the farm next door got into our field, and one of our black sheeps chased her off like a lion chasing a wildebeest in the Serengeti!! Who ever knew sheep could be racists. Who has ever heard of a guard sheep?

There is erosion going on down at the river.

Once a year Martinborough has an event called the 'Meandering Lunch' where the wealthy white wine drinkers get ferried around a select group of wineries on a bus, drink wine and eat food. We were asked if we wanted to 'volunteer' pouring thimble sized amounts of various different wines and serving posh food created by local classy chefs. In between each bus load we flipped the table cloths over, wiped the cutlery on the back of our trousers and wiped the lipstick off the glasses. It was actually good fun. For tax purposes we were volunteers but were given 6 bottles of wine each at the end. We now have so much wine that we could be one of the bus stops next year!

The waiter, waitress and food.

Other things do what they are meant to. The vegetables in the garden look upon dead possums and magpies as very good blood and bone meal or organic steroids and so produce mega sized vegetables . The carrots want to entertain us, celeriac is bigger than a football, leeks broader than a downspout and the tomato plantation thicker than a tropical forest in Borneo, but neither orangutans nor tomatoes and they aren't ripe. I'm told by a Romanian that if you pickle green tomatoes with horseradish they don't go squidgy. Tomorrows job.

How life has changed.