Lost for words

I don't know what this post is about. I am just writing.

Yesterday I met the newest of the family. He is...a baby a few weeks old. I bought some absurdly expensive clothing for him at the posh Seed shop in Albert Park. Ray and I used to argue there every time we bought some clothing for a new born. Me, we are not spending that much, and then I spent that much. I asked for it to be wrapped and the shirt and shorts was wrapped very nicely in tissue paper, in a white box with a red ribbon around. No extra charge. They are size 1, perfect for him next summer. 

Mondays I have to hang around home to wait for my food delivery around noon. My neighbour HH was off to Morning Melodies, so I accepted her delivery too. One of her brother in laws died last night, but he had been unwell for some time and aged 88. It was no shock to anyone. I did go across the road for coffee at about 10.30. 

I ate some pumpkin soup from the freezer, with pretend croutons. Phyllis had left me half a kind of spicy sausage roll to eat, and that was nice. He is such a good cook. Kosov's laptop would not work and no matter what we did, nothing worked. It eventually completely died. 

I communicated with a couple of people online and I then went out to catch a 604 bus to Elsternwick Station. My plan was to catch a train back to South Yarra and a tram home from there. But I left the bus at Coles supermarket before the station to buy something, and then a 67 tram was approaching so I caught that home. 

Mail arrived in my letter box. One was a bill for last month's food delivery. Why can't they send the bill electronically? I called City of Port Phillip and a request has been lodged for me to receive the bill by email. Last week I had no postal mail at all, and then two letters today. I much prefer bills to come via email, and they nearly all do. 

The other letter was from a debt collector, clothed in the name of Mercantile Services, wanting payment for Ray's trip to the hospital by ambulance the night he died. A bill did arrive last year and our private health insurance covers the cost of the trip. I forwarded the bill to the health insurance company, assuming I would hear no more. Another letter arrived, and I thought the health insurance was slow to pay. Another letter arrived, so I called my health insurance company. 

It had been taken over by another company and changed its name, which happened a month after Ray died. Then I changed my cover from a couple to a single. I called my health insurance company and it is working on it, it said. Clearly the ambulance bill got lost somewhere. Ray died with some money towards his funeral, but effectively intestate. So there is no money in his estate to pay the bill. I think I should reply to the latest demand, but then I think, fuck it. It is not my bill. Go for you life to get money from a dead person. 

I've done everything right, but I am not doing anymore with this. 

A meal of barramundi and chips from my old person subsidised delivery service company. Phyllis kindly heated it for me and added some greens to it. 

You can't see anything really, but early yesterday there was a crash below. As those involved exchanged details, a shower of rain passed by, adding to their misery.

The purple tap is a public supply of recycled water, and is cleaned enough to drink, in spite of the message.

My pot of flowers on the balcony. 

The cupboards are full of all sorts of exotic ingredients and some were stacked on my tiny corner of cupboard, psyllium husks, Vegemite, peanut butter, jam and honey. I removed what was on top. I want free access to my stuff. 

Phyllis, this will be the only magnets on my fridge. Mine.

Yes Andrewww. But just this Singapore one. No Phyllis, no more. That is the last. Yet there is now another.