A long lunch and relative weatlh

I met my neighbour HH at 11.00 and walked a short distance to a cafe we've decided we like, after trying a couple of others. We left at 1.00, so what did we talk about for two hours? Maybe one hour was on varied topics. 

She has a friend of a similar age to her who has been her friend since her early teenage years. The two families all know each other very well, including their respective children. Her friend and her friend's husband are rich, in my opinion. They own a house in an expensive beach side suburb, which has been named the skin cancer capital of Australia, or was it just Victoria. No matter, and they also own a holiday house in Portsea. Without elaborating, it is clear the wife, HH's life long friend is being mentally abused by her husband. She is never right. She hasn't dressed properly. Her hair is not done nicely. Her cooking skills are no longer up to scratch. She needs to be grateful that she has him to look after things for her. And, does she need to talk to HH almost every day on the phone. 

You've got the picture? If she challenges him, he throws his hands up in the air and then says, it is her fault for not getting things right. What is the modern term? I am thinking whiteanting, which kind of describes it. Is it ghosting? I'll remember it later (I did, gaslighting). But HH's friend puts up with it, for the sake of her grown up children and, I am sure, her own material comfort. 

Not thinking my own anecdotes would be of any help, I recounted some personal experiences of similar behaviour and HH suddenly became enlightened. I did not say so directly, but it is some kind of raw jealousy. There you go. You may be very rich, but that doesn't make you immune from spousal abuse, and mental abuse can really wear partners down over a long period. I expect EC is quite conversant with hearing this kind of stuff in her volunteer role. The best that can be said is that at least he is not physically violent. No reminder bruising for him to see the next day. 

That all sounds quite grim, but it was only a small part of what we talked about. About one hour was of exchanging tales of bureaucracy. HH's husband has severe dementia, is in care and no longer remembers her. So while not literally, she too has lost her life partner. Many things are in his name, and she constantly has to battle for her own identity. She had me shrieking with laughter heartily laughing at her attempt to get an appointment at her bank, with phones not being answered but promising a call return, that never happens. Her son who lives interstate generally manages her investments, shares and self managed super fund monies, but there are some things she has to do in person. "Son, I've found where the bank CEO is based. I am going to go there and demand to see him." "Mother, that is not a good idea". It is the duty of parents to embarrass their children, hey Debby. 

Her son asked HH if she used her landline anymore. She replied no. He told her to unplug it then cancel it. Over Facetime he told her what to turn off and what to unplug. Then he told her to cancel the phone service. She tried hard, with a number of calls, but it was the same story, the account was in her husband's name. At least I can produce Ray's death certificate. Her husband is still alive. She wondered why she was going to all this trouble for what was costing her $5 a month. Eventually, after being asked to send a selfie from her phone, she handed authority over to her son to deal with the matter. 

I know most of you are financially comfortable, and although I receive a part old age pension, I too consider myself financially comfortable. However, I am quite aware that is not all of you and I keep that in mind when writing blog posts. 

HH's friend who I earlier wrote about is very wealthy. When HH mentioned it cost $400,000 to get her husband into care, which I think is a bond, plus a daily cost, and if she needs to go into care, it will cost her $800,000, I realised she is very wealthy and beyond my league. 

"I want to leave money to my children". "HH, they are successful in their own right, they don't need the money. It is far better you turn on your heating and cooling when needed." 

I do understand her thinking as being a person who is cautious with money, as I have been. But one thing Ray and I never stinted on was heating and cooling in our homes. There is no need to heat or cool the spare bedroom, so I close the door in extreme temperatures, and I don't have settings turned to high levels, but I am going to continue to ensure my home is at a comfortable temperature. 

Panto Fun

The panto was fun, Jo had a lot of lines to deliver as Cinderella and she was flawless. All the kiddies sat up the front on cushions and became quite involved in the performance, which is how panto is, along with dragging in older audience who seemed quite uncomfortable. True panto traditions upheld. I had a very nice lunch with Sister before hand at Zoo Cafe

It was a long drive there and back and I had time to ponder. 

I like when I find out a blogger's address, and using Street View, I can see where they live. In the infancy of Street View, I saw one blogger in her driveway, captured by the camera. 

So yes, I have stalking tendencies. But once I look at where they live, I am satisfied and quickly forget what I saw. 

Any amateur sleuth can find out a lot about me online, but I do try to protect my real name. I don't use my real name in social media, but as I said, any persistence can find out about me. Nevertheless, I respect other's privacy and I hope they do the same for me. 

What's on tomorrow? Brunch with my 'Dead in Bed' call mate neighbour. HH can really talk and I enjoy her company. I will continue to try to convince her that she is not poor and if her apartment feels hot, turn on her air conditioning. Her son does the same, advising her that she has plenty of money. I am trying to change from being a frugal person to a spending person, but it all seems too late, and I am trying to change HH's view of spending too.  

HH took this balloon photo one morning last week. There must be money in balloon flights. 

My Day

After taking Phyllis and Kosov to the beach on Sunday, and then accompanying them to the Victoria Gardens shopping centre on Monday, I wanted a quiet day to myself.

Kosov was up early to meet a friend who works in the evenings, so Kosov was making the extreme sacrifice by getting up early to meet his friend. So Phyllis was up early too. I had hoped for a peaceful morning. Maybe it is better when they stay in bed until mid afternoon. 

I caught a tram to Prahran where I had my hair cut. I caught a tram to Toorak Road and another to South Yarra Station. On the Chapel Street tram were a neighbour couple, who greeted me. They left the tram at Toorak Road too but I don't know where they then went. 

At South Yarra displays indicated the next City Loop train would be in 15 minutes, odd when it is a 10 minute service, but I knew copper thieves had been at work and disrupted the train line. The City Loop train changed to one direct to Flinders Street, that did not suit me at all. I caught the next train to Flinders Street and then a tram up Elizabeth Street to Victoria Market. It was a minor issue for me, but truly awful for so many train passengers who were suffering a bus replacement service.

I walked back to Franklin Street to visit the marvellous Jaycar store. What a revelation. Staff helped with what I needed to repair tv plug tenant damage in their bedroom. 

I was feeling quite weary as I wandered in the direction of the William Street tram, and I spied a stationary bus displaying route 605, which will get me near home. It was eight minutes to departure and the driver was sitting in a passenger seat attending to matters of his phone. It was cool enough in the bus but every few minutes the bus engine started up, I guess to keep the air con working. While we now have all electric buses, this one was older that used battery storage to start off before switching over to the normal engine. I checked my phone and there was a message from Ex Sis in Law. We are at Armadale Station. Are you free to meet at Flinders Street Station for coffee? She had a client with her, who had changed a lot since I first met him. He barely speaks now, but listens, and then forgets.  He likes travelling on trains. 

That will be nice, although I was looking forward to going home. I pressed the next stop button on the bus for the Flinders Street stop, but I must have pressed it on an angle or something and it didn't work, and the bus didn't stop. I was carried to the other side of the river. Bugger! I could have walked back to Flinders Street and caught a tram to the station, but instead I just plodded along foot after foot, seeking shade where I could. It was good see Ex Sis in Law and catch up on family news. 

Once home, much later than I thought, it was peaceful as the lads were out. 

Meals on Wheels, Korean fried chicken for dinner wasn't too bad. 

Tomorrow, a 90 minute drive to lunch with Sister and then see Jo in panto as Cinderella. It sounds high camp to me, as panto should be. Jo made it into the local Murdoch rag in a puff piece. I don't think I have any bloggers now who were around in 2007 when Jo was born and the involvement we had with her as a baby, a toddler, and under 10 and then as happens when teenage years are reached, less contact with her. 

A wee shower

Rain from a storm cloud fell on Melbourne last Sunday. I knew the weather wasn't looking good when I went out, so I was armed with a humberalla. 

I didn't really need the humberella, as I was eating a roast pork sandwich and drinking my, small long black coffee 2/3 full please, indoors as the 'monsoonal rains' fell. As I stepped outside, the rain was still falling but less so. I took photos and videos in Prahran.

One woman found an island.

Such downpours are quite unusual in Melbourne. I cleared a couple of non draining drains with my foot, my umbrella tip and a stick. That was fun.

Phyllis messaged me. Lordy, he is awake already at 12.30. Red bell pepper (he is a foreigner, so capsicum in my lingo) and spring onions if you can Andrew. Sure. 

I had been warned some special meal was afoot. By gosh, it was so nice. Scrambled eggs on sour dough toast, a beef sausage nicely cut up by Kosov, wilted mixed green leaves in garlic and yep, a butter sauce, with a homemade salmon patty topped with a garlic sauce. The effort they put in to cooking is extraordinary, with almost everything fresh and rarely anything commercially prepared beyond the very basics.

 

I generally forget my phone has a stylus. I pulled it out and noticed I could write on the screen without opening the phone. Phyllis insisted I add my own small A to the centre of the heart after I drew the initial image to show Phyllis and Kosov with a heart in between. "Take a screen shot, Andrewww', so I did. 

Monday Mural

Oh my, it's a big one, but nothing too wonderful. It was painted on the side of a building in Werribee. Better than a blank wall. 

Sunday Selections

I'm joining with Elephant's Child, River and others. 

Is this a cicada or just a cicada shell? I looks alive but why was it sitting on a hot pavement in the sun?

This was news to me. I spotted it arriving at Melbourne's Station Pier. The ship is Straight Link and is a freight only ship across Bass Straight from Port Burnie on Tasmania's north coast. 

What is Phyllis going to cook that he is bookmarked, with my bookmark? I don't think it happened. 

Keeping with a nautical theme, I took the lads down to see Queen Elizabeth moored at Station Pier. While she is a very large ship, she didn't look so large when sailing past in the bay.  

The Elwood Canal, or Elster Creek as it is correctly called, floods at times and of course those nearest the canal cop it the worst. As an aside, Elwood has the only ford I know of in suburban Melbourne. There is a ford in Altona and that is being rebuilt at the moment, and I wouldn't call paddocks a suburban area. 

Nice one Phyllis. I keep nagging them about eating more greens and I seem to be having an impact. 

Would you believe these flowers were about four weeks old when I took this photo. Quite amazing and I don' know what they are, in spite of a little Guggling. 

I mentioned cheques in my last post and I was clearing out the filing cabinet and I came across this stamp, which you use to stamp vertically or at a 45 degree angle across the face of cheque. you had written. I can't remember exactly why but it effectively meant you had to pay it into a bank account. I think when my father needed cash, he would make the payee of a cheque, 'Cash' and would hand it over the counter, mostly at a pub.

 

As you can see, it has perished. It would be over twenty years since it was used. Binned.

Thursday Extra, published on Saturday

The bleeding spot has caused me untold problems, soaking my bedding more than once and Sister's bedding. Towels when I forgot to be gentle after showering and rubbed my face to dry it. When Phyllis said I had a couple of long hairs near the wound that looked bad and I should use a trimmer. Fail, and I think that was the last bleed. 

My doctor wasn't concerned about the spot in so far as it not being a skin cancer. Not long after I saw him, the main scab fell off. Maybe I am through the woods now. I will still put a band aid on before I sleep. 

Phyllis and Kosov took a bath again this afternoon. Great I thought. That is much less water than two twenty minute showers. But no, they took showers after the bath, but at least shorter rinse off showers. 

My meeting with my estranged friend went well. It was like old days, but without any tension from his late partner and my late partner. After brunch, he invited me back to his place, which I know very well. He has massively improved the outdoor area with an almost enclosed decking. I got off lightly dealing with Ray's estate. He had to hand over his partner's computer to one organisation for it to work out the finances of its organisation, then pass it on to another organisation to go through its finances. He was quite overwhelmed and he readily admits he had been spoilt and has had to learn how to do so much on his own. He has a part time house guest, a guy from Hong Kong who is also a friend with benefits. He was a nice enough guy and spoke Australian. You would never guess he is gay. Via another source, I've seen revealing photos of him, tall and very slim and certainly not behind the back door when appendages were handed out, and rock hard.

When I changed the car road side assistance, car insurance and home insurance from Ray's name to mine, I received his no claim discounts and his long membership benefits. But why was the premium I had to pay higher than Ray's renewal? I should have pressed further on the point at the time. Today I received a cheque for $48 from RACV as the benefits hadn't been properly applied, which made Ray's  renewable premium the amount I ended up paying. 

But a cheque? What do I do with that? Neither of my bank's branches that I use has tellers anymore. There are assist staff to help you with technology though. I tried to deposit the cheque to a machine, but to no avail. I think it was a security guard who said I had press the I want a receipt button, and then I was fine. I poked the cheque into an open slot and the machine read the cheque and put the money in my account. Quite amazing. It must be twenty years plus since I've deposited a cheque and the system has changed a lot, for the better. I thanked the big black bruiser guard on the way out. 

Roast pork Meals on Wheels tonight. I add more apple sauce. Very nice.

I offered to take Phyllis and Kosov somewhere on the weekend. 

Where Andrewww? 

You choose. Have you broken your Google?