Posts Tagged ‘Leonard Cohen’

The three weeks to go.

July 17, 2019

Three weeks ago Helvi took a fall. The surgeon informed us; ‘it will take a year to heal.’ I believe he wanted to let us know there will be a long healing process. It is always better to overemphasize than give false hope. I know positivity does make better and heal things faster than the Jeramiah opposite but even during the last few weeks things are looking up. We have at least managed to get some synchronicity in our ‘ bathroom’ functions, especially during the night, which made an amazing difference. There is now a rhythm in daily affairs.  Have any of you dear readers ever had to put dentures in your partners’ mouths? Try it.

I have learnt that the little things that men expect women to do on a daily basis is a lot more than are given credit for. My dad always felt entitled to put his feet up after work and somehow joined the chorus of men who thought that women at home  had it easy, a kind of domestic picnic, lounging about glancing through glamour magazines, sipping tea with oranges all the way from China.

We are both torn, and alternate between love and fury between us. It is difficult and when Helvi’s left arm got infected we thought, surely now things will turn for the better. The arm was again operated on yesterday and today Helvi is coming down from the anaesthetics helped with strong pain killers. The wires in her arm were removed and this will give one arm, her left arm, more mobility. As a sign of encouragement a single blue flower ( see below picture)popped up roughly the same time as a year ago.

On the political side; is it still worth looking at the news? Trump is manuring his hatred for everything that is decent and honourable, and things in Australia seem just as dismal.

I haven’t got much time to write and am sorry I haven’t been able to respond to some of you and your blogs. We sometimes put on some music. Helvi likes Leonard Cohen and somehow get almost non-stop of his music through the magic of a Bose speaker and the iPhone through Spotify.

IMG_0095A Star

 

Is this what awaits us in the final days? (for seniors)

August 30, 2016

IMG_0836

I was hoping for a nice time when finally saying adieu to dear world. ‘It has been fun knowing you.’  ‘I always knew it would not last.’ But…this case of elderly care takes the cake.

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-08-30/adelaide-aged-care-facility-mitcham-accreditation-extended/7797128

To think that this ‘care facility’ was rewarded by extending its accreditation doesn’t surprise me. I mean, look at the care for refugees on Nauru and Manus.

I might seriously have to consider taking some Jiujutsu lessons or perhaps pack a nice gleaming 45 calibre under my pillow to teach that killer of a nurse a good lesson. There I was, dreaming of a nice kind nurse, snapping the rubber gloves, wearing an enticing smile, seductively feeding me garlic prawns or some other tasty morsel, kindly wiping my forehead or dribbling chin.

It’s all so grim-reaper stuff. Is this what awaits us in staying healthy, giving up smoking, considering others, when finally getting old and very cold?

Where are our rewards for having been so good? Do the old and dying have to install cameras now, in case of someone snuffing the life out us. Is that what might prevent a nurse from doing that? I hope to still have the presence of mind and the freedom to enjoy a friendly act of euthanasia with family, friends and Milo at my site while listening to Leonard Cohen ‘A bird on a wire.’

Patience, it all gets there at the end!

 

 

The kitchen of give and take and does it send you blind?

December 11, 2014
The kitchen of give and take.

The kitchen of give and take.

There is nothing like taking stock of one’s health. I seem to take more and more notice of the elderly of late. Especially those that seem more advanced in age than I. They look me back in the eye with a beady eyed wisdom as if to say. ‘Yes, we all get there in the end.’ ‘Put in your order for the walker or motorised wheelchair. Get practising to taking the packet of incontinent pads from Aldi’s shelf. Be brave and try do it in front of a young silken smoothed roseate angel. A maddening challenge and what a prospect to behold? Get used to it, cobber! Pay the price of the outrunning of the tide and watch the orange sinking sun. See it as a reward for having lived a life of sorts. And as Leonard Cohen used to sing there is still time to ‘the bitter searching of the heart.’

“From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.”

Well, that sets the tone for the day. Cheer up old man, smell the roses and pat your dog. Your genes are predicting a ripe old age well into the nineties if you stick to health and steer clear of the pork shoulder with crackling and those perniciously beckoning Slovenian Kranskies. Take a leaf out of your dearest H. who has lentil soup for breakfast! You gave up smoking but seem unable to give up addiction to secretly indulge in those strange dietary habits if not other bad habits as well. You are not taking other things in your own hands still, are you? Look me in the eye when I am talking! Ha, that quick downward looks says it all. What did your mother teach you? Keep your hands above the blankets and think of the Royal Family at the feet of India, read Rin Tin Tin, listen to Smokey Dawson or eat an apple instead.

It seems like yesterday I had my vitrectomy in right eye. It has been over a year and the sight hasn’t improved as promised. I now have to book some kind of operation to remove cataracts. Just great! Does it send you blind? Vasectomy, colonoscopy, polypectomy, vitrectomy what next? On the 14th of January an appointment with the Audiologist to get new hearing aids fitted. The old ones don’t zing anymore and it drives Helvi mad. Shouting matches mistaken by neighbours for marital incontinence and fisty cuffs, mishaps and mistakes, apologies with rewards of lunch with calamari and baked barramundi and chips. It is all sometimes a bit complicated but we are getting there.

We are all on a journey in the kitchen of give and take.

First we take Manhattan.(More of the Same, Thank you).

February 16, 2014

untitledManhattan

It’s odd that, even though the choices are supposed to be endless, we usually end up doing the same. What is the compulsion to be driven by the security of routine? I sleep, wake up, and make coffee. The choice could well be to not get up and wait for H to make my coffee. I could also just stay in bed and read or stare at the window, listen to the radio. ( I haven’t listened properly to a radio for years!)

I sometimes switch on the radio which is cemented solid on the ABC’s channel of classical music but within minutes switch it off again. The noise in the morning even of classical music is too much. Peace and quiet, especially in the mornings needs to be observed and maintained. Talk about maintaining the status quo and lauding ‘choice’? Even Chopin’s tingling on the piano before 10am is an intrusion on the sounds of birds and lovely stillness.

We sometimes break the rule, and especially after a couple of reds at night might put on the revolutionary Leonard Cohen’s ” First we take Manhattan,” or the schmaltzy Rod’s “I am sailing.” We play this loudly. Never mind the neighbours. They are in bed at 9pm. Can you believe it?

Why do people go to bed so early in Australia? I remember my teen years in the suburbs, never a light on after 9pm. What do people do so early in bed. Perhaps I have been mistaken. The place might well have been a cess-pit of unbridled lust, riddled and rocked with passion and sexual fever. Who knows? I doubt it though. It always puzzled me how people could spend so much time tending to a lawn. Hours, days, weeks on knees pulling out unwanted and different specimens of grasses! Oh, the pains of getting the perfect lawn.

But going back to routine. I could also have the choice of having a cup-o-tea with a cloud of milk with a coconut biscuit or a hot chocolate. Alas, I don’t, and I must therefore be firmly in the grip of routine. Yet, I have always prided and preached the sermon to others that we have freedom to change and really do what we like. Life is too short to not try out all sorts of things. Just jig about and do a quick step on the dance-floor of the available years ahead, I would advice. These are still my exhortations to others. There just seems to be a whiff of my usual hypocritism about it all.

As I was pondering about all this prior to getting out of bed, I felt a surge and need to do things differently this morning. “Let’s go for breakfast”, I stated bravely to my dear H. There is a shop around the corner and they have installed a lovely nook for those in need of early coffee and breakfasts.

It all looks very Italian and not at all the usual Aussie-Anglo stuff with muffins and doilies, drinking tea with little finger pointed forwards, toast and honey, stirring the sugar clockwise without tinkling the spoon, elbow raised perpendicular to the body. All this consumed by long married couples in utter silence.

No, this place has early morning laughter and shouting. “let’s go and make noise, have a focaccia Genovese, or maritozzo with whipped cream with Sardinia fried crepes with pecorino cheese and honey with Campanian sfogliatelle afterwards”, I said loudly. (I was hoping to impress my H, just having googled Italian Breakfasts.) “Let’s peruse the news, talk to people and do it differently this morning.”

A change of routine is like a visit to the doctor…

The latest Leonard Cohen

January 23, 2012

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2012/01/23/120123po_poem_cohen

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2012/01/leonard-cohens-going-home-new-song.html

 

Remembering him form McCabe & Mrs Miller Movie by Robert Altman;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=F2BSHp9oYD0