Gravity defied.

Manchurian Pear

The above tree is not going to be with us much longer. At least not in its present shape. It was getting too large. During storms we watched the trunk twisting and turning alarmingly. With our previous farming life, and breeding alpacas, we were told to keep animals away from those type of trees. They, out of the blue, will drop large branches. Not deliberately, but as part of their nature. They split easily. But… they are also very beautiful trees giving us freely an amazing display of burnished gold during autumn. Unfortunately when they drop (unexpectedly) heavy branches, they fall down to earth and not up to heavenly skies. That is determined by the law of gravity.

I was told that this law doesn’t apply everywhere in our universe. There are many places in the more celestial areas where this law of gravity doesn’t exists. I have always been baffled that things fall down. As a child I remember seeing twirling seed pots taking a long time to reach the ground after leaving the safety of the parental tree.. Those seed pots attempted clearly to defy the law of gravity, and were very brave to do so.

In our condominium it was decided to cut some trees near the street that were pushing over a boundary fence. We were happy to go without a fence. It is a bit unfortunate, but fences seem very popular in Australia. Perhaps real estate when owned, has to be protected by a fence. Do people steal bits of real estate? Will we arrive home after watching a movie in the cinema, and find our kitchen has been stolen, or the front door?

As you can see, our kitchen is still in place, at least at twenty minutes to eight in the morning. Anyway, we agreed to let those fence pushing trees to be cut down, and also asked to include for the arborist the lopping of our Manchurian pear to about the size it was when we moved in our own (fenced off) town-house. I watched the cutting of the trees with great interest. There is something about a man swinging high up, chainsaw dangling from his belt, cutting a large tree. Of course, here too the law of gravity reigns supreme and no branch moved skywards.

All trees were fed into a monstrous machine that chipped it into mulch. The mulch was subsequently blown into a large truck. The truck then deposited it on the side of one townhouse for the use of the residents needs to mulch their gardens. The last item to be lopped to size was our own Manchurian tree.  It too was fed into this machine.

It looks very sad now. Those trees are very fast growing. We are sure that next spring it will double in size again. That’s life. A renewal of everything. It will be great to watch it rear up and grow. Below, the ‘after’ picture of the tree.

 

 

 

 

 

From the Dentist Chair

Rain

The second of May with the 2pm meeting with Craig was getting nearer. I kept looking at the Dental appointment reminder stuck on the fridge held by a magnet. There was no need really. The friendly secretary reminded me of this looming meeting by phone the day earlier. No escape! My internal mouth machinations had already been investigated a few weeks before. The dentist then (Craig) tried to keep up a cheerful demeanour but there was just that split second furrowed brow on his face that hinted at a serious dental journey ahead. At least, there wasn’t a; ‘dear oh dear,’ or a sudden catch of breath from him. The verdict was that all could be saved and an itemised quote would be mailed. It came promptly within a few days. I divided the amount by the number of years I had not visited the dentist. It softened the blow. After checking my savings account I bravely decided to go and front up with the remainder of my mouth, tormented teeth and savings account.

Has anyone noticed that doctors’ waiting rooms have chairs, yet dentists’ rooms have couches or settees? Craig’s waiting room has soft carpet, a kind of grey-beige colour, not unlike the colour of my teeth. It is nicely furnished with three and two seater settees. Not only that! The secretary is also in the same room, cosily seated behind a desk. You can hear her talking demurely in the phone or clicking on the computer. She occasionally threw a reassuring glance over the patient. I was the only patient, so it was nice to know I wasn’t alone. I would not want a stern secretary with all that is awaiting. No, you’ve got to give it to Craig. There is calm and serenity. But, is it before the oral storm yet to unleash its fury?

I have fainted only twice in my life. The first time was in church. Where else?  I was about eleven or twelve and hungry. I had not eaten because this church laid down a law that if you were to receive communion you could not eat. The church had lots of laws that forbade almost anything that was joyful or gave pleasure. Gloom and doom was installed at a very young age. It was winter and standing room only. The church was coal heated with the hot air welling up through steel grates on the floor at the back of the church. I was standing at the back of the church on top of this grate, ready to bolt as soon I received this wafer that promised I would be with angels in case I carked it. ( but only if I had not sinned in the meantime.) I fainted and remember coming around with a woman holding me up telling me to go home. I got hot chips with pickles instead from money mum had given me to put in the collection bag. It used to do the rounds in the church attached to a long wooden stick held by a sickly looking man. A bit like a fishing-rod. Since then I put buttons in and keep the money! A wise move.

While waiting to be called into the dentist’s surgery I was mulling over the fainting history of many years ago. My worst fear was that in my heightened state of a grinding dental infused anxiety, I would not be able to get up from the settee, and instead crumble and fall prostrate in front of the dentist. It would not be a good look in front of the nice reassuring secretary that I had previously given a list answering many questions including an answer to the question about my level of nervousness. I filled in that I had no nervousness at all.

Readers will be happy to know I made it to the dentist chair without much drama.

 

 

 

 

Flotsam on life’s shores.

Milo at peace with the world

As the years roll by, does life get even better?  Notice how the word ‘even’ got inserted? Is positiveness  finally getting its way? There are two ways to look at life. One is to find the good, the other is to find the ‘even’ better. That is at least what the happiness gurus try and tell us. It is amazing how many books are written about ‘happiness’. It is even more amazing that they sell. I would be utterly ashamed or at least embarrassed to line up at the book counter, handing over my chosen book on ‘ How to find serious happiness’ at $32,95  written by a Dr,  Kleinkind. I mean at nineteen years of age, it might be possible but at seventy- five, it seems ridiculously belated.

Objectively looking at the psychology of happiness, older people are often happier than the young, even though  life of the old is inexorably getting towards the end. It is puzzling and it seems to contradict the idea that life is better and preferably when being young.   After all,  the world’s population is forever aiming to remain young. It might also be that the old are happy BECAUSE it is getting towards the end, having survived all the good and the bad and somehow made the best of it. Almost like the satisfaction of a bricklayer or a midwife having done their jobs well. We sit back and survey life’s foibles and triumphs. It might not have been perfect but it was Ok and at times even pretty good. In any case, it is not as if dying is so unusual. One might as well make the best of it. There are not many books about on how to avoid that last bit of life.

The sun is out.

It seems a paradox that old people whose lifespan is always shorter, who often have medical problems, whose sexual life is diminishing, suffer memory loss, lose their driving ability, are often happier than the younger generation at the beginning of life.

The young are in robust health, have sex 7/24  like berserk rabbits, drive like maniacs, chop and change partners, can eat huge rump-steaks or gorge on mayonnaise laden bratwursts ad infinitum, yet are often queuing up on the Quack’s couch; “I am not happy, Doc, I am not happy.”   “Yes, I understand, it is difficult. Have you tried getting away from yourself a bit more as I suggested, last time?”  “That will be all for today. That will be $ 450.-. Thank you.”  “Thank you.”

Perhaps the old can indulge their free time in hobbies, friendships, cook lovely meals while sipping a wine, travel around and watch people rushing by from a park bench. They can sit in the garden and watch the salvia grow. They might be free of  the upbringing of children, do not have to nurture ambitions or having to achieve anything….. and find it a great relief!

A heaven of garden