Posts Tagged ‘Gutters’

Moving to better pastures.

February 29, 2020

IMG_0235 birch tree

The lopped top of our birch-tree which threatened the gutters.

If people thought things have been a bit quiet on the Oosterman Treats blog, they are right. After more than ten years of ‘putting up’ with a strange inexplicable  toxic atmosphere, I am moving. Helvi and I both tried to make things work, but with some people that just doesn’t work. Perhaps it makes them happy when unhinging others. The chairperson of this community likes nothing better than to hack away with secateurs and cut down anything that blocks his view of fences and gutters. You will get the picture I am sure!

I am moving a few kilometres up the road where I bought my new abode. It is brand new and so far only a few town-houses are occupied. I met one couple who immediately were helpful and welcoming. Another couple opposite also friendly and jovial. It renewed my confidence in people. I also met very nice welcoming people at the local Bradman Cricket café. A joy to behold and we meet two or thee times weekly for a coffee and exchange of the latest. Nothing serious and oddly enough, no cricket talk, not that I would mind, I just don’t understand the game.

I was so happy with the decision to move away from the present noxious body corporate and so overwhelmed with my friendly new abode, that I bought another town-house, which I will let out to get a bit of income. Good karma so far. Helvi wanted to move earlier but with her cancer and endless hospital visits it did not eventuate. She would be happy to see me move away from this present address.

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I am now packing endless boxes and sorting out all the paraphernalia we collected through the years. My goodness, 19 egg-cups, and so many sets of knives, far out. Father Riley’s charity shop is groaning with the superfluous household items of our previous life’s sojourn.

I am so happy to have made this move. I am on cloud nine and no secateurs in sight at my new address.

The RSL, Bowling, and the gutters now get vacuumed.

July 13, 2018

IMG_0067the Manchurian tree

Manchurian Pear tree in front of our house (six weeks ago)

I love mid-winter. It gets cold here but the gardens are so quiet. No noises from lawnmowers, whipper-snippers, the edgers, leaf blowers, hedge trimmers, chain-saws. At no stage in world’s history has gardening become so noisy.  It reaches its zenith in mid-summer. I don’t like gardening noises. I get snappy and unfriendly. Milo too hates the noise. His ears hang down and looks frightened. Winters are for recovering from all that machinery. All machinery is hibernating and owners fiddle listlessly around the Television or, at best might tidy up the shed or do some vacuuming.

Together with my dislike for garden noises, I also hate the colour purple. Do I look like someone who likes purple? I just mention this as my Moss-vale Returned Soldiers Leagues/services bowling Club brought in purple bowling shirts. It was decided to give more credence to the sport of bowling by having members wearing shirts identifying the club and bowling. To see a group of elderly prancing about in short sleeved shirts is risqué but in bright purple it becomes circus clownery. I was asked about the purple colour before the choice was made. It was asked with such enthusiasm for the colour, I shrivelled up and acceded with the majority. I am not that brave in opposing. I only joined a year ago!

I am shirted in purple every Wednesday now. That’s when the Moss -vale club gets together. My long skinny arms don’t do anything at the best of times but in a short sleeved purple shirt I look ready for a long stint in a rehabilitation unit behind a high fence. I read on the label they are made in Bangladesh and are made of 100% acrylic. I paid an extra $10 to get a pocket stitched on it. I thought it might draw attention away from the rest of my body. I never though that in retirement and having a choice I would end up wearing purple shimmeringly shiny shirt. It also makes me sweat and smell after just a couple of bowling games.

It is different at the Mittagong Returned Soldier League Club. They wear a  green coloured shirt. It is made of 50% cotton and acrylic. It looks better. I don’t object to wearing it. I don’t understand to have two different coloured shirts. It has nothing to do with Returned Soldiers or the clubs. We are too old for two different uniforms even if it is just a shirt.

During the last AGM of our Townhouse compound, someone brought up that the gutters had not been cleaned. It is the same each year. Some have an obsession about gutter cleaning. Most trees have now been cut and any surviving leaves get annihilated by leaf-blowers. Not many end up in our gutters. And if they do, so what? Councils and many inhabitants of rural towns cut down the native trees years ago, in order to name streets after the trees they cut.

Anyway, the chairperson of our housing compound organised for the gutters to be cleaned. Within a week a huge truck appeared with a large pump. A very large stomached man clambered over the roofs and manipulated a large suction hose along the gutters. It was supposed to vacuum all the gutters clean. Looking around now. Many a truck now have signs advertising their prowess in vacuuming gutters and roofs. The world has come a long way.

And next Wednesday I will be wearing a purple acrylic bowling shirt with a stitched on pocket.

A normal day

April 18, 2017

photoflooded river

If I ever become a Turkish-like president with total power, the first thing on the agenda would be to ban religious Easter and Christmas holidays, and replace those with having ‘normal days’.  I have never understood that the birth of a baby in the manger surrounded by poor unemployed people while breathed over by animals with the nailing and crucifixion of that same grown-up baby years later should be cause for holidaying and partying. No wonder the  world is so mixed up. When or why did those fondants, chocolate eggs make their entrée? Why not rye-bread or herrings? We would all be so much healthier!

You can always tell when those events come close. Shoppers get nervous and stock up on Nuroven pain relief tablets, chocolate, different stripy sugar sticks, and stool softening medications. Kids sky-high on chocolate-eggs and slushies, go on a skate-boarding rampage. I was nearly killed by a skate-board riding kid yesterday while walking along with Milo. He could not have seen me. His vision obscured by such a voluminous hair jungle, I wondered if it held monkeys. How could he find his way around?  Our grandsons too have skate-boards. They go to town carrying them about. It signals that they too are part of this group and to be reckoned with. I gave them a talk-to, be careful around the elderly, not to try and kill them. The elderly  have a right to a life and footpath too. They did try and listen but I noticed their thoughts going off at a tangent. That’s normal too.

Here in Bowral, autumn is mid-way and at its best. Busloads of Chinese tourists disgorge themselves, and were seen to take selfies with a Liquid Amber or a Claret Ash in the back ground. The ochre-coloured massive Oak trees near our place groaning under the weight of dying foliage. Its raining with leaves, soon to get picked up by giant Council vacuuming machines. Tons of leaves will return in mulch and used in spring when the cycle starts all over again. This is what I like about ‘normal’ days.  Time doesn’t stand still. It goes on.

Perhaps after all those years, I have come to accepts the noise of those mechanical gardening devices. Gutters are being sucked out, pavements are being blown free of leaves, the lawnmowers on their last mow now. Edges trimmed once more. The much beloved nature strip will soon become quiet and its grass asleep. Tomorrow at the crack of dawn, the garbage trucks will rattle along picking up the bins. It is normal and so life affirming.

On the advice of my dentist to get a yearly check-up I made an appointment with a doctor at 3pm. I wonder what they will find wrong? The dentist (Craig) reckons a yearly blood test should be performed regularly when getting older. Helvi admonished me and said; “You go to get a check-up because of the dentist? Yet I have told you repeatedly to get a check-up. What is wrong with you?”

It is all so normal.