h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hope you found your form. The other thing about living alone is that there is no one to blame. Such as "you must have moved it I deffinitely left it on the table, glove box, shelf, wherever. or the "I suppose you threw it away, you really should be more careful of MY stuff".

We are still unpacking boxes and finding all kinds of old friends. A favourite knife or book. There are still things that we have not seen yet and are just about to blame each other for not packing them.

Dog is doing well, is very unhappy today because it is the day for the tick and flea medication and you would think that the two of us were in kahoots to murder the dog. His ears go back and his tail goes down and he goes and hides from his loving parents who feel frustrated and hurt. Bloody animals.

Again I hope you had some good luck and found your form under the junk best wishes to you and Kanga.

Nah! Never found the form. But I did find a $30 voucher that I won in a Golf Club raffle last February.
I rang the doctors receptionist and they are going to send me another.
A sudden worsening of my arthritis had me staggering around for a couple of days but I am back to what passes for normal these days. It is all a mystery to me. If a joint is worn it should malfunction consistently, not vary from day to day. I am, however, grateful for the times when I am not so hampered. I look at the oldies getting around with walking sticks, walking frames, and those ride on mini-vehicles and have to admit that I am comparatively athletic.(Hah!)
Kanga is pretty good most of the time and does a little gallop around the room now and then, but she mostly sleeps, a small blob of beauty amidst the general disorder.

Glad you are ok. Arthritis is a bloody awful thing. I find that when there is moisture in the air such as rain or humidity then the hobbling around is worse. Stairs are my main enemy at the moment and I know before long I will have to see the doctor and get some new bits fitted.

We are still assembling the flat pack and today our furniture is being delivered which means we can actually sit down in a comfortable chair for the first time in ages.

We are still having some lovely weather but the chill in the air tells me that autumn is around the bend.

We are so lucky to have our animals to just add that bit of lovliness to the day. I know my dog often makes my heart feel good cos he looks good or is being particularly crazy.

Somewhere yesterday I saw signs of (please forgive the expression) Xmas and felt "OH BUGGER" I am not fond of this time of year and always hope that it gets forgotten but no it always pops up same old same ole every year. You would think that people would be bored with the same stuff every year. Get into debt to pay for gifts that are not particularly appreciated then spend all the year paying off for them. Hey sounds wrong somehow.

I guess in one way I am fortunate in that I don't have to worry about Xmas presents. Well, there is one person with whom I have an agreement to not go overboard with presents.
It is strange to feel the lifting of spirits at Xmas time as I have no religious convictions. I think it is an empathetic thing when the great mass of people are feeling good about their friends and family.
Living in a holiday resort area us locals get a bit miffed at the difficulties of parking. And the price of food usually goes up. But that's life. At least in Oz Xmas usually means warmer weather.
I am never likely to dream of a white Xmas!!
Played golf today and did enough good things to offset the bad.

Congratulations on the good golf day

Wonderful weather over here the sun doth shine and the warm it is warm in deed. Yesterday it poured with rain all day but today bloody marvelous.

Tell me something how do they cook chips in Oz? Since we have arrived in the north of England I am told that the best chips are cooked in beef dripping. However, I say beef dripping will kill you quicker than vegetable oil. I am told NO beef dripping gets so much hotter than oil it does not get absorbed by the chip. Put your mind to that one and let me know what you think. On the other hand you may prefer to say "Who Cares?" and I could understand that as well.

Well the house is awash with cardboard, so much cardboard and my husband is making flat pack furniture in his sleep now. I think he is beginning to get fed up with the whole thing but carries on regardless. That is the reason I mention the great chip question as I want to make him chips as a reward for flat pack furniture making.

So for you Xmas means good weather, and you will never see a white one well lucky you. In the north where I am they seem to talk of white Xmas's with loving memories and then go on to tell horror stories of old people freezing to death and not being found as people could not get to them because they were isolated.

I have been filling in applicaion forms for jobs, I have applied for everything and am hoping at least for an interview of some sort. Feeling almost settled still glad to be home but will feel even better when I am earing a crust or two.

I was never very good at crust earning. With limitations that I allowed to rule my life I could never be ambitious. I survived life by avoiding all threatening aspects. Now, as a cranky old coot with a pension and a reverse mortgage I am more or less secure.
I have no idea how they cook chips here. I just go along and buy them. I am not an epicure so I enjoy all kinds of chips be they crisp or soggy. I think they are probably cooked in vegetable oil as I think that would be much cheaper than beef dripping. And healthier.
As I am 200 pounds plus I am trying to resist chips. I also love pastry.
Healthiness can be a cruel thing. When I think of an indulgent treat, it is usually pancakes, lemon meringue tart, apple pie and cream, self-saucing chocolate pudding, sausage rolls, meat pies, and food, glorious food!!!
It is Sunday today. Sundays in my childhood were days of indulgence. My mother used to cook up a storm with roast meats and potatoes and various vegetables, Yorkshire pudding and glorious gravy. Then there would be fruit salad, lamingtons, scones as big as your fist, and lashings of cream.
Now I cook for myself. I try to live by the rule that it should not take longer to cook a meal than it takes to eat it. I enjoy what I cook, but I do not know if anybody else would.

Oh how I agree with you food is such a plesure, yet it turns around and bites you on the bum and hips and everywhere else it can settle.

The discussion about the cooking of chips turned into a very interesting afternoon on the cookery message boards, it was quite hilarious how biochemists, chefs, scientists and even doctors joined in the talk. Now I have my answer. Oil breaks down and makes toxins at a high enough heat to cook your average chip. Beef dripping does not. It is wise to eat oil in such items as salad dressing or when cooking something at low temperature. However, beef dripping or the like is better at hight temps.

Now I have explained this in words that I can understand if you wish I can give you the full scientific version with diagrams, just let me know.

I have to say that I am getting a bit gittery now the applications for jobs have been filled in. I shall be disappointed if no one answers and yet frightend to death if an interview is required.

I just posted a strange bunch of words on the Poetry Conversation. I am not sure what it all meant, but I felt like I was saying something.

I very seldom cook chips myself. If I have to have potatoes (sometimes I feel I must) I do a mash. Lovely stuff. As for the oil temperature thing, TV cooks recommend peanut oil as it has a very high burn point.

Thank the Gods I don't have to worry about job applications any more. I was lucky in one way as I only ever had to apply once. Most of my jobs seemed to happen somehow. Because of the paruresis thing I have always had a low self esteem. Pushing myself forward has been a virtual impossibility.

Today I posted my last job application form and now I will sit under the table and hope. I too have a low self esteem and manage to cover it up with loads of laughs and jibes at my own expense. Still it dosn't hurt to laugh at yourself now and then.

We have spent most of the day in IKEA buying knick knacks that make a house a home or just overcrowded. Bought loads of storage jars and I swear I haven't any room to store the storage jars.

I will shut up about the chips now I have obtained my beef dripping and will cook them and put curry sauce on them and quietly get indigestion.

I wonder what it was you put on the poetry board you must let me see some of your stuff from time to time.

No problem seeing my poetry. Just click on my name, look at my conversation list, and click on Poetry Conversation. There is stacks of poetry contributions. Not all of it is original, so there is some good stuff as well. I must admit I don't always understand what I read. My education was limited and I cannot get deeper meanings. Most modern poetry leaves me mainly bewildered. I usually like poems to have rhyme and rhythm, which is not the current fashion. I suppose if your poem is incomprehensible you can sneer at the people who don't get it.

Here you are filling your house with furniture and I'm wishing I could throw mine away. I only have a small house and years of accumulation.

A prime example of one's possessions possessing one!

I sometimes get misty eyed at the idea of accumilating stuff. I on the other hand have accumilated mistakes and wrong turnings.

I have friends who have been in the same job for 35 years another couple have been married for 40 years and my mind just boggles. As my son says that's a complete life time of sameness.

Many years ago I had a nice home with children and all mod cons. My husband who came from the Caribbean became homesick and instead of letting him go home alone we sold up and went over there to live taking along my electric cooker, my electric washing machine and my electric vacuum cleaner and of course an electric fridge. All would have been well but we had no electricity to the poor hovel that was my home for two and a half years. We were dirt poor and lived on growing bananas. My husband became alcoholic and I began to drink heavily too.

Finally I became very ill and they shipped me off to New York where I got a job and after living with a nasty mother in law for a while made enough money to buy a house with some tenants who helped to pay the mortgage. I worked hubs drank but I built up a nice home again with all the furniture and yet more electric appliances.
Got fed up with being beaten and alcohol so finally after 22 years of marriage I left him and came home to England. With two children they gave me a house to rent and I soon filled it with furniture and more electric appliances. People are very kind when you have nothing. I literally came to England with suitcases and children.

I worked hard and eventually agreed that alcoholic husband should come over to see my house and his children. Bad idea on the last night of his visit he got roaring drunk and methodically went through my house and destroyed as much as he could he even tried to kill the poor dog who tried to protect us.

He went back to America and swore that he would stop drinking for ever if I let him come back to us. He would sell the house in America and we could buy the rented house in England. Like a complete idiot I agreed, my children have never forgiven me.

He sold the house and arrived in England and for six months did not drink a drop. He even managed to start up a really nice business. He started to drink again and this time hit me so hard that I ended up in hospital and he was put in prison.

I carried on working and paying the mortgage and after a time met a very kind man who moved in with me. My husband got some friends to throw a petrol bomb through the window and this destroyed my home and very nearly killed my new man who was badly burned and ended up in hospital. My husband was in court that day for an unrelated incident and therefore nothing could be proved so I did not get any insurance money because they thought but could not prove that it was him and he was named on the mortgage document.

We were housed in rented accomodation until the house was rebuilt and we moved back in again. We started from scratch and yes you guessed it filled it yet again with electric appliances. Finally my new man and me bought ourselves another house. Because the house that was burned was given to me in the court as part of my divorce settlement I vowed that I would never sell it. It was mine and it was proof of my independence.

We lived for a while in another house, then we decided that we did not like the neighbours and as my arthritis was pretty bad we bought a bungalow. We did not sell our houses but rented them out and I collected them rather as if I was playing monopoly.

The bungalow had really handsome electric appliances an oven that cleaned itself and a washing machine to die for, there was a fridge that dispenced ice and iced water, and a microwave oven that could turn cartwheels across the floor.

Then my now husband decided that he would like to live in the Caribbean and off I went again leaving all my wonderous home behind for friends and family.

We rented a large impressive house in the Caribbean, not too many electrical appliances required except a good ice maker and air conditioners. Now I am back in England again. Going around buying all sorts of stuff. (Including electrical appliances)

We have rented this house for about a year and there is already talk of buying another house this time with a granny flat for my mother in law. This is supposed to be the last house that I will ever own. The others were sold to pay for the Caribbean trip.

So I envy people who aquire and keep stuff, I hope I do one daytoo.

Hi to you, wondered if you were ok? I realise that my last message was at least a book in length hope you didn't nod off with boredom? Just wondering if you are quite well.

G'day. No. not bored. A bit overwhelmed by the the troubles you have seen. You are surely a resilient character. More power to your elbow.
The reason for my delayed reply is that I have been met by the "sorry, we are making changes" message every time I tried to connect. And now I am being interrupted by Email messages. I have a new mail thing called Incredimail that lets me know when I have mail by having a snail with racing stripes whizz onto the screen. It wont go away until I click on it, and then I am shunted on to the email window. I quite like it really.
Now I have to take Kanga to the vet. It can be stressful getting her into the basket. She has been having anal gland problems and has a temperature. It is impossible for me to medicate her so I have to take her to ghet her injection each morning for a week. And golf starts early today because it is Grand Final day for the AFL, and most of the golfers want to get back and watch the match on TV. There are no local teams in it this year but Victorians will watch any footy match. I am only mildly interested but since it is between Sydney and Perth I think I would like Sydney to win, even though they are pretty insufferable in their attitude of superiority over Melbourne.

Footy players are obviously the same all over the world and footy fans also.

Sorry to hear about Kanga. Giving medication is a bit of a nightmare poor little thing, I can't stand it when cats are sick more so than with dogs because a cat seems to just suffer in silence. I spent time with a beautiful cat over the week-end his name is Crisco and he is silver, he has the most amazing eyes and was full of mischief, my cousin had lots of flower arrangements around the house and silver decorations for her birthday and he spent the whole of Sunday trying to eat the flowers and swing from the decorations. She has four other cats but he is without a doubt the leader of the pack.

Because I am an optimist things will always be alright. I always see the bottle as being half full and sometimes I am disappointed but I always bounce back. I believe that it is a naive childlike quality and because I don't take life too seriously nothing matters to me too much if you understand what I mean.

My big important things in life are honesty and loyalty. I mean honesty to tell the truth and loyalty to friends. I don't think there is a lot of it about and those two are becoming old fashioned.

Anyway before I start to write another novel I will shut up. Glad to hear you are alright thats the main thing. I hope little Kanga will get well soon.

Take Care

I'm sure Kanga would thank you if she knew of your concern. I do any way. She has responded well to the antibiotics, but being like a nervous parent with a sick baby, I worry about every little thing that might indicate further illness. She is eating normally and seems relaxed, but now her voice has gone croaky. Maybe it is something she just likes doing now. Cats are like that. They are like two year old children sometimes.

I have to keep reminding myself that just as I have number of little ailments, but am not about to cark it tomorrow, so it might be with Kanga. I am a sentimental fool where animals are concerned. Although they may seem to us to be cruel in their treatment of one another, I believe them to be innocent of any evil. Can't say the same for us.

Glad to hear Kanga is eating. I may be wrong but I figure when animals are ill they go off their fodder.

Unlike me, if I were in a coma I would wake up for meals and snacks.

We took our dog up onto the moors today. The moors in the North of England (Manchester) are fantastic however, about 30 years ago there were some nasty murders comitted and the body of several children were buried on the moors. A couple of these poor kids were never found, but the moors are remembered not for the beauty of their scenery but for these brutal deeds, bit of a shame. You may even have heard of one of the killers Moira Hindley she is dead now but not forgotten her boyfriend is still in jail.

We walked around and watched the sheep then came home and ate lamb chops and mint sauce for dinner. very nice too.

for Kanga and a big

Kanga had her last needle this morning and I think she is back to what passes for normal in a strange little cat.

I wish I could say the same.
Alright, so I am old and grizzly. Possibly better than being young and dead. Are you ever struck by the paradox that being dead might be a whole lot better than being alive, but there is only one way to find out, and if you find out life was good, it is too late to change your mind. Another case of the grass is greener.

One of the things that strike me about English life is that with so many people in such a small island, you have so much open space on which you are free to wander. Here in Victoria, which is larger than Britain, you can travel hundreds of miles and never be out of sight of barbwire fences, and the frequent 'Trespassers Prosecuted' signs. I would not want to live anywhere else but these restrictions do annoy me, especially now that my acheing body finds fences hard to handle.

Are they the moors where Sherlock Holmes had a bit of a tussle with a doggie?

I sometimes wish I had the moral fibre to be a vegetarian. Sheep are fairly stupid critters but quite beguiling in their way. And if you ever saw Shari Lewis with her glove puppet Lambchop, the lamb with the deep south accent, you could never eat a lamb chop without a little guilt. You'd still enjoy it, but sadly.

You may be suffering but you still made I larf!!!!!

I am too damned curious to ever wonder what it was like to be dead, the dead never seem to have much fun, even stories about ghosts are nearly always sad. No I would only ever consider being alive in case I missed something really important.

I know what you mean about the restrictions of the wild and free land, but even here we have many restrictions, you can't walk on farm land and there are a multitude of building developers all building the desirable residence all 27 of them on a spot that really should only hold a couple of houses.

The moors a rather like national parks and can't really be spoiled but the route to get to them is now made quite complicated.

I remember lamb chop very well. She did have a wonderful voice. However, the call of lamb and mint sauce is more than even a loving glove puppet could take away.

Glad Kanga is feeling a little better. We olduns in England of course are full of aches and pains because the colder, wetter weather is here. I promised my old bones that they would not have to put up with another British winter and they are reminding me big time that I was not completely truthful.

Our poor dog has been quite sick this morning, he tried to wake us both to ask to be let out because he obviously wanted to vomit and we just made soothing, later later noises. He has been staying with my mother in law and we think she may have spoilt him with human food and treats, which is very nice but has upset the poor doggie.

Sherlock Holmes did his stuff on Bodmin Moors which are in the South Coast near Devon and Exeter.We are near the Lancashire Moors which are devided from the Yorkshire Moors Pennine Way which is like a back bone of hills passing through the North of England from around Nottingham (Robin Hood) through to the lovely Lake District. (Kendal)

The war of The Roses took place between Yorkshire and Lancashire and there is still a more than a little rivalry between them, especially when it comes to cricket.

I saw a film called the Barbed Wire Fence it was a lovely film about a little aborigine girl and her sisters. The fences seemed to be to keep out rabbits from the farms and also the roos, which I believe are vermin although of course to us Brits Kangaroos are very exotic animals.

Here's to a healthy Kangalew

I'm going bad. I could not even remember whether I had replied or not. I am easily confused!
You have a lot of history in Britland. Everywhere you walk you tread on some well known story. We don't have a lot of significant stuff here. Probably why we make a big deal out of Ned Kelly. Australians of my era have long suffered from cultural cringe. I suppose that, because until recent times we have been fairly isolated from the rest of the world, the national psyche has been sort of introverted. Of course my line of thinking is not the common Oz attitude. I have long been the odd man out.

I have long been odd!

Perhaps I have taken some perverse pride in being odd. Who wants to be ordinary? (I lie! I have always wished that I was like other men.) I suppose there is a proper term for this dichotomy. A man at war with himself always has to lose.
I think I might be a touch depressed this morning. My doc. appointment re my prostate has been moved to a later date again. No news is not good news, no news is just no news. Ah well! As a professional procrastinator I don't mind all that much. While I don't know, I don't have to make further plans.

You are so right we have so much history in Britland. However, Oz must have something going for it cos an awful lot of our lot went over there.

Tomorrow I am going to a place called Donnington Park to see the Aston Martin Cars on show and racing. I have always been a fan of the Aston Martin and am disappointed that one of my ambitions to own one has not come to fruition yet. Many years ago I went to the factory and all the cars are handmade each one skillfully put together by skilled men who mark there work. I was given a small bag that had been made up of pieces of leather and suede that the seat and interior had been made off. I kept the bag for years and remembered the smell and excitement of that factory.

I am not usually a car person, the thing is that they get you from a to b without too much trouble.

The rain here is driving me mad and I do envy you just going into spring when we face one of our most awful times, November, December and January they are cold, wet and nasty.

I have been home in England for five minutes and already I am complaining about the cold wet weather. But then if I didn't complain I wouldn't be a pom. Right?