Muffy's autumn memorial

The summer flowers are gone, so this morning I replaced the pots on Muffy's grave with these potted begonias. They seem to be very strong and are very pretty.

We've had a terribly hot summer, with most flowers withering quickly away, and hardly a blade of green grass to be seen. But today it is raining, which is wonderful. I'm about to take myself to the movies to see Darkest Hour, the story of Winston Churchill. The other day I saw Finding your Feet, which was wonderful - sad but enjoyable.

It takes a lot to get me out of the house, but, after two weeks of being in bed with the flu, I'm making an effort.

Food for the sick

This year has not started well. First there was Muffy's death, then the night in hospital with the mysterious pain in my hand, and for the past fortnight I have been suffering from the worst flu I have ever experienced.

Philip looked after me very well, providing lovely meals, such as the one in the pic, even though I couldn't taste a thing. I mostly slept an exhausted sleep, sweated, shivered, and put up with an aching body and runny nose.

I missed out on several planned activities to celebrate my 75th birthday (on Wednesday), and am not completely better yet. Still feeling very sorry for myself.

Memories of Muffy

Last night I put together many, many photos of beloved Muffy and Philip says we'll have them made into a memorial book. She was so much a part of my life, always right there beside me - watching while I was on my laptop, playing the piano, or working on my files.

She taught me so much about love and loss. That dear little creature...

Gout - Hornsby Hospital

Can you believe it! Gout in my left hand!!!!!

On Wednesday, Pam, a dear friend from Newcastle, came down by train to spend the day with me. We started off by going to a cafe in Westfield while we worked out what we'd do for the rest of the day. She was showing me photos of her grandchildren when a severe pain suddenly grabbed my left hand, like a vice, from the wrist to the finger tips.

Within seconds, it seems, the blood drained from my face and I thought I would pass out. Pam and another kind cafe patron tried to prop my head against the wall, then both of them ran to a nearby medical centre. A doctor and nurse came running to the cafe and the first thing the doctor said was, 'Get her onto the floor.'

I was so pleased to hear that, as I was finding it next to impossible to remain upright on the chair, and just wanted to lie down and die! Somebody had called Westfield security, who in turn called the ambulance. Once they had all arrived it grew a bit crowded inside the little cafe.

All the medicos thought I was having a heart attack, as I'd had a bypass 25 years ago, and that was the most likely thing to be happening. But I kept saying, 'My left hand, my left hand. Excruciating pain.'

Eventually, after having provided a floorshow - literally - for the other patrons, I was taken to Hornsby hospital by ambulance. I cannot speak highly enough of everybody concerned. Not a single complaint do I have about our health system: it's magnificent. I was examined, then placed in a short-term care ward, where I remained overnight.

Philip came from work to take Pam to the station that afternoon, then fetched me home the following morning. Westfield made no charge for my car left in their carpark overnight.

The pain has gone but I feel pretty washed-out today. From the time I got home from hospital to this morning, I had slept more than 13 hours. Sleep seems to be my reaction to any problem.

VERY, VERY, VERY grumpy old woman

I started this page a few days ago, and just about threw the computer out the window when everything I'd written simply flew away. That's been happening to my emails, too. It drives me crazy!

The original whinge I had was people who use iPhones in cinemas and theatres, as in the photo. I have stopped going to movies as a consequence (much prefer NETFLIX in the comfort of my own home). 

I took Emma to The Wizard of Oz on Saturday. Being gouged by Viagogo - NEVER again - for $450 for two $100 tickets brought on a serious bout of grumpiness, I can assure you. Even getting there was frustrating enough. Emma has two Opal cards, one at her mother's flat and the other here, this latter needing topping up. These days, I cannot even cope with a topping up machine - almost no real live staff at railway stations any longer - so Philip gave her one of his two Opal cards. Would you believe, we discovered when she could not get through the ticket barrier at the station, that this one needed topping up, too. We were able to find a lonely staff member on duty that day and he kindly walked us over the road to a machine near Woolworths, and did the topping up for us, as I was on the point of a nervous breakdown. 

In the theatre, we climbed to the gods, to the very last row, where I sat directly behind the head of the woman in front and was blinded by several people using iPhones. I had to lean sideways throughout the whole performance to get a glimpse of the stage. On the way up, a woman had said to me: 'Well, this is your cardiac exercise for the day.'

Many more whinges to come next time.

Life after Muffy

  

Muffy's grave in back garden

New plants in pots nearby

I'm putting all my energy into the garden now that Muffy's gone. I won't get another kitten.

I have beautiful shots of her on both my monitors, and of course I think about her all the time. 

Early rising

I'm awake early - 4 am - so got up to make a coffee and do this blog. This pic was taken a few months back, when I got my new glasses after cataract operations.

My eyes are swollen after crying for Muffy since she died. Bruce and Wendy popped in yesterday with flowers for me. That was nice.

I plan to go to an Australian Natives nursery this morning, as beginning Muffy's Memorial Garden has inspired me to beautify the whole place. Both front- and back-yards have been neglected for a long time, making me ashamed. Emma is having a pool party here tomorrow, so I want to at least have the surrounds a bit decent. Extremely hot weather of late has killed most of the potplants, so it's time I made a fresh start. I've moved most of the pots into a shadier area.

School goes back next Tuesday. The kids have had a six-week summer holiday, and Philip three, so we will need to get organised. Their mother left home some months ago, making things extremely difficult. Emma never wants to go to her flat, preferring to stay in her own home with Daddy, naturally. Hugo doesn't seem to understand there has been a tearing-apart of his family, and goes to his mother every now and then. But fortunately for us, they're here most of the time. Philip is being magnificent, as always. 

At 6 am I'll listen to The Archers, as I've been doing for years. Right now we're into surrogacy! There's no doubt about it, we get a bit of absolutely everything in this BBC radio program. It's been running since the war!

I, and most of my friends, have just about given up totally on TV. I've got NETFLIX and binged on The Crown recently. In my opinion, this is the best program ever made. Last night I discovered Hidden Houses in Wales. I adore things like this. You folk who live in England and Europe are so lucky to have such beautiful old buildings. Nothing older than 200 years here.

Goodbye Muffy

Muffy drew her last breath yesterday, Monday 22 Jan 2018, aged 17. A kind and respectful vet and nurse euthanased her, and she died in my arms. Philip, Emma and Hugo were there, too, to say goodbye.

She is buried in our backyard and I've already begun to plant flowers and shrubs so it can be Muffy's Memorial Garden.

I've never cried so much in all my life. For all these years, except when I was away, she slept with me every night and kept me company every day.

This photo was taken on 5 Jan, just a few weeks ago. The vet had examined her and taken blood samples in Dec and said she'd be gone by mid-Jan, and he wasn't far out. For years she'd had kidney and heart disease and was on medication and a special diet. 

I loved her dearly. She had a happy and long life and I have wonderful memories of her, and thousands of photos.

Family get-together

Oh no, it appears I've done it again - forgot to press a button and have lost everything I'd written here. No, it's worse. I've apparently deleted the previous blog, headed Me and my new glasses. I give up.

Before I become completely frazzled, I'll tell you who's who in the pic. Standing: Sister Kay, Philip, me; Seated: Lisa (Kay's daughter-in-law from US), Jenni (Kay's daughter).

Where have I been???

I can hardly believe my last entry was in January. Each day is so filled with things to do, I never seemed to have time to make an entry. But Frank asked this morning if I had stopped doing the blog, so I decided to make an effort.

World events have been appalling, so best not to say anything about them. There's more than enough on the news.

The family is fine, as is Muffy. Amongst all the things I do, family history takes up a lot of time, and is very rewarding. I've been particularly interested in my paternal grandmother's siblings, and have managed to track down four lots of descendants, (including me and my sister) all 2nd cousins. We recently had a get-together here in Sydney, with the sisters in the pic coming from US, (as did the husband of one, standing at the back). That's me on the left, in case you've forgotten what I look like.

Three others live not far from me, and my sister came up from Canberra. I have to say it was one of the most enjoyable times of my entire life! Just fabulous. We talked for hours and hours.

On my grandmother's line there were 12 siblings, three of whom died as babies or toddlers. Half were born in London, the rest in Brisbane, after the family emigrated in 1887. This is where they lived.

The eldest, Florence, was born in 1870 (we met at her 90-year-old grandson's place); next came Minnie, born in 1876, (I went to her granddaughter's 90th birthday party on Sunday); then Annie Louise (my grandmother), born in 1880; and last of all the youngest, Jessie (grandmother of the women in the top photo), born in1893. She must have been very adventurous, as she sailed to US in her early 20s, married there, had a son, Jerry (aged 90, who spoke to us via Skype while his daughters were here) and never came back.