WEDNESDAY WAS QUITE A DAY

TRAVELLING ALONG THE HUME HIGHWAY
(Now that I am in Oz, I observe the the non-American spelling)

I departed Canberra early (7:30 AM) for Albury-Wodonga, the Twin Cites straddling the Murray River, the one in New South Wales and the other in Victoria, heading back to the Hume Highway. First stop was a small town called Jugiong (Aboriginal name meaning, ‘valley of the crows’), set in a beautiful valley and the location of The Long Track Café and Bakery where I hoped for coffee and small pastry. Alas, I arrived before the opening time of 10 AM and contented myself with a Pink Lady apple from the small fresh fruit and vegetables/wine shop next door. Mmmm…quite the most delicious apple I have eaten for many a day. Here is a photo of a typical Oz homestead overlooking the valley

All this meant that I had to stop by the café five miles from Gundagai (where the Dog sits on the Tucker Box). Here, at the Bill the Bullocky's Roadhouse, I indulged in a Devonshire Tea. Rather than take tea, I elected a café late to have with the two fresh scones, strawberry jam, and cream. Australia is a land where one can buy an excellent version of espresso just about anywhere. For Americans reading this, an Aussie scone (pronounced ‘skon’) is rather like a biscuit (English readers will know that I am not referring to what in America is called a 'cookie'), but lighter and somewhat sweeter. The way to eat Devonshire tea scones is to split them in two, spread first with strawberry jam, and then with the whipped cream…absolutely delicious, as many things invented in Devon are.

A song from the wartime has an Aussie soldier (a ‘Digger’) dreaming of his girlfriend,
'Oh, my Mabel waits for me,
Underneath the clear blue sky,
Where the dog sits on the tucker box,
Five miles from Gundagai…’

The story originates from the days when bullock teams hauled heavy loads through The Bush. Nowadays the dog is still there though his master, a bullocky, is long dead, immortalized as a statue still on a tucker box. Since the last time I stopped by to visit The Dog, he has been placed at the centre of a small fountain, so if he wants to leave, he will first have to swim a little.

Then it was on to Wodonga to meet up with Karl, my eldest grandchild’s father. We had lunch and then went out to visit with his father, Wal, who has to be close to the most remarkable man I have ever met. At the end of the day, a heavy storm arrived and we ate steaks while the deluge thundered on the roof and the sky performed its terrifying dance.


Wal lives 0n 100 acres just outside Wodonga, off the road that leads to the snowfields. Earlier in the afternoon, sipping an occasional beer, we drove in his 4-wheel drive up along the fire track he had cut along the ridge bordering his land to look out along the valley, across to the Hume Weir (one of the great dams in the Snowy River Scheme, Australia' version of the TVA). I was impressed by an old tree, much abused by the weather, that continually oversees this beautiful landscape.

More later from Oz.

BACK IN OZ II

I HAVE BEEN BACK in the land of my birth just over two weeks now. There is not a lot to report. The time has been filled with renewing ties with family and friends. I had a great time meeting up with two friends from graduate school days. The one, Lorraine, I have kept in touch with over the years but the other, Janice, I had not seen for over 25 years. The last time in Melbourne when I visited with her while her son, Daniel, barely three years of age, was raking up autumn leaves. "Mummy," he kept complaining, "the leaves keep on falling." Now he is a grown man and she has raised two daughters since! We lunched while looking across Darling Harbour.

Unfortunately, by the end of the first week, I had come down with what Aussies call a "wog". A bad cold that peaked with a feverish Friday night followed by a Saturday filled with aches and pains. However, I continued the hunt for a second hand car, ably assisted by my nephew. Besides being over six feet and a qualified auto mechanic, his deliberate and careful examination, with lots of note taking and use of lifting devices and stands, certainly impressed the owners of the two cars we had selected. I bought the second, a Volvo 850 of 1997 vintage and some 169,000 kilometers and in very good order. So now I have a car although the transfer of registration had a few kinks to it, due to me not being a resident of New South Wales.

Yes, I proven that I can drive on the left hand side. Driving in Sydney can be a challenge as the streets are narrow, the lanes just wide enough for a car, and the traffic always very dense. On the other hand, the drivers are amazingly tolerant and considerate, accommodating sudden lane changes without signals with out so much as a turn of a hair. Sydney is full of traffic lights and long delays waiting for the green light. A fortune burnt at intersections as cars idle patiently. Also, the growth of the city has been dominated both by history and by the invaginations of the sea as the coast intrudes into the land. Hence you need a map book of the suburbs to fin.d your way around. The book I have has some 480 maps! It pays to study your intended route carefully before setting out and to mark the maps you will need to refer to as you wind your way across the city and suburbs. Tolerant as they may be in most respects, Sydney drivers have little patience with those who seem not to know their way.

Anther week on and I am just about over my cold (seems it is going around and mostly affecting folk who have recently been on planes). Tomorrow, I set out for Canberra and yes, I have been carefully studying how to get out of Sydney, from Bondi Beach where I am staying with my son and his family, to the main highway south to the Australian Capital Territory. I now have a GPS so should not loose my way or, if I do, find it again easily. I will be avoiding the network of tollways as it is difficult to pay electronically or in cash and they are very expensive.

From Canberra I will wend my way around Northeastern Victoria, visiting friends and looking at property and plan to arrive in Melbourne by next weekend. From there I will travel to Adelaide via the Wimmera area in Western Victoria to visit with an old friend I have not seen for many, many years, now a Baptist pastor serving three country congregations in that area.

In two weeks, I shall be in Adelaide.

Nothing else of interest, so...so long

BACK IN OZ

WELL INTO MY FIRST WEEK...the journey has been long and varied and I am now well and truly "down under", almost diametrically through the center of the earth from where I started, driving from Painted Post NY to Basalt CO, then flying to San Francisco (SFO) to enjoy time with friends there before departing.

MY GOOD FRIEND, Dr Francis Wright, went with me to SFO via BART (Bay Area Rapid Transport), virtually from one end of the Bay area to the other, helping me with my now quite heavy suitcases. How good to have friends who provide support at just the right times! The flight lasted about 14 hours leaving around 11 PM and arriving in Sydney 6:45 AM. I passed the time reading, dozing, talking with my young seat companion, a geology student at University of Washington State, or walking about the cabin getting in knee exercises. This also provided protection against the possibility of deep vein thrombosis (DVT), for old codgers like me a serious threat during long periods of seating.

Once in Sydney, I was very much in the arms of my family…my son Andrew and his two sons, my nephew Peter and his family, and my brother, Norton.

I seem to have stood up to my travels pretty well and enjoyed a walk around the block with my nephew, the surroundings ablaze with spring flowers and smitten with the loud sounds of the many birds, on what became increasingly a perfect Sydney spring day.

Thanks for the many good wishes you nave sent me by email. This is a serious time in my life…as Elizabeth (Peter’s wife) remarked, ‘Robert, you are virtually homeless for the time being!’ So then to the work of settling in and settling down. First on the agenda is the purchase of a car. Another of my nephews, Zintis, a qualified mechanic, is assisting me. We have already had a look at one; we make a smooth team. I engage the owner while Zintis goes about his careful inspection and evaluation.

My knee continues to improve and I am able to go down stairs symmetrically now. Getting in lots of walking.

Not much more of interest for the time being. Regards and good wished to you all.

LAST DAY IN THE USA

IT'S THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 16 and a very pleasant afternoon here in Walnut Creek, sunny California (although some rain may be possible over the weekend).

Around about 6 PM, my good friend Francis and I will take the BART out to SFO International Airport. My flight out to Sydney leaves around 10:30, so this will give me enough time for the check in procedures.

It was a long day getting here from Basalt, due to the long stopover at Denver. Up around 3 AM Pacific time and into bed about 10:30 PM. I felt very sad leaving Aspen, saying goodbye to my little family there after four great days seeing what a wonderful young woman my eldest granddaughter has become.

Staying with my friends, Mary and Francis Wright, has been very relaxing and restorative. I am very grateful to them for this pleasant, quiet and enriching time. As ever, we have had deep conversations and I have some new authors to follow through on. Two streams of luggage converged here, the stuff I had sent ahead via UPS and my stuff from Basalt. Lots of 'needle work' separating what I really need to take to Australia and what must be left behind to benefit the local Goodwill.

I am really down to two suitcases for checking (one containing my folding Bike Friday), a computer case, and one other carry-on bag...pretty amazing, really!

So this last blog posting in the USA on a very pleasant afternoon. A very long night and I will be in Sydney. Winnowing the stuff had me immersed in the business of discarding what really had to do with my life here and what I really need to begin anew in Australia. Truly, passing through the needle strips all but the necessities. I arrived in the US on 19 February 1995, making about 15 and one half years here, richer in many ways with experiences and new friends.

Next posting from Sydney. 'Adieu' and 'au revoir', to return in late January, moving into longer and warmer days as the Australian summer bears down.

KNEE #2 UPDATE & THE NEEDLE'S EYE

SEVEN WEEKS have come and gone. The surgeon is happy with progress, as is the physical therapist. I, lacking rationality when it comes to rehabilitation, think that things are going too slow but have learned from the last bout that it is unwise to push too hard. Even so, there have been some moments that caused concern, none of which count being now past. The first knee, surgery and rehabilitation and all, appears to have left me somewhat depleted and my fitness level had slipped by the time of the second procedure, leading to some small complications. What this means is that is wise indeed to have a good interval between the first and the second. Keep this in mind should you or someone you know is contemplating serious surgery.

Which brings me to the Needle's Eye.

Whatever your view of Jesus, his sayings (which are the core of Christian practice) can be very pertinent. In one of the gospels (John), he is depicted in deep conversation with a Jewish Rabbi who came secretly to confer with him. The Rabbi was concerned about how one can live a life that is pleasing to God. The Bible has a lot to say about this, none of which Jesus repeated. What he said was, "One must be born anew to enter the kingdom of God." In another gospel (Mathew) Jesus is reported saying that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

When you think about it, being born anew or threading a needle can be exceedingly constricting . You have to be or become small in certain ways to make it through.

Whatever biblical commentators make of these sayings (I recommend you Google them), I seem to be in an ever constricting process. Now in Colorado, visiting with my elder daughter and her daughter, I have filtered out a lot of "stuff" leaving Painted Post. I shall divest myself of more during this visit. By the time I reach San Francisco, I will be down to two regular suitcases and carry on bags.

While we are thinking along these lines, one might well ask, "Well then, what is this 'kingdom of God'? As one who tends either agnostic or else atheistic, I take this to mean the life that you really want to live but may feel held back from by reason of unsuitable beliefs, attitudes, habits, and the press of life. Jesus was not concerned with possessions. From his perspective, preoccupation with possessions and riches must have seemed somewhat absurd, particularly if these stood in the way of the life we would wish above all else to be able to live.

So it does one good from time to time to divest all but the essentials. This can happen if one is robbed, or a fire consumes all, or when one moves, as I am doing. Having been robbed three times, apart from annoyance and some grief for things lost, it did appear to me that there could be a positive side. Pioneers who trekked across continents or risked all across oceans learned this lesson.

To go on to the good life can mean leaving much behind. You have to be prepared to let go, even renounce much that seemed to be important.

So far I have driven three days from Painted Post to be with my daughter, making my fourth semi-transcontinental crossing. I am sad to be leaving so much that is good and valuable behind. Passing through the needle's eye is not without pain. I shall miss being each day with my lovely friend, Uma, but we plan that our paths will cross from time to time while we support each other in the paths we must tread in the meantime.

For me, the biggest loss is friends I have made along the way. While travel permits, some at least of you might have to bear an occasional visit from me. Nowadays we have this marvelous Internet so you will continue to hear of me through this Blog. I plan to get better at blogging. I am getting to see that regular updates in Facebook can really work. If you are not on Facebook, give it some serious consideration. That way I will get to hear of you.

I am here at Basalt for three more days and then go on to stay with my friends, Frank and Mary Wright, in San Francisco for a day or two before boarding United Airlines on Thursday night arriving in Sydney on their Saturday morning. My life in America will be behind me, having arrived here as an immigrant on February 19, 1995. Only one or two visits each year remain. On the other hand, I am looking forward to completing my apprenticeship as a grandfather and plan to have my grandchildren remember me a supportive and interesting person.

So it is almost farewell to my life in America, almost time to say, 'Goodbye'.

THE CONNECTEDNESS OF THINGS

WHAT REALLY BOTHERS ME is judging how best to react to a crisis like the great BP Oil Spill. This is a US located disaster and quite a few of the readers of this Blog live far away. Even here in Painted Post, in Upper New York State, it is hard to grasp the gigantic effects of this disaster on the life and ecology this is having and will continue to have. On the other hand, it is hard indeed not to feel some sense of connection to it. Why are BP and similar companies drilling for oil off-shore in the Gulf of Mexico? There some 50,000 drilling sites abound, over half of them capped, abandoned, and un-monitored; only some 600 are related to BP activity. We hardly need to be told this is a risky business in terms of human lives; when I fill up at the local service station it is hard not to think of eleven lives vanished at Deepwater Horizon. In terms of financial risk oil drilling cost billions and only relatively few exploration holes become productive. The per barrel extraction costs keep rising and the amount of oil reserves found keep falling. Yet still we drill for drill we must; and the reason we must is that the demand for petroleum products will continue to rise as more internal combustion vehicles come on the world increasing number of highways.

What can we do? One possible response is outlined in an NY Times OpEd article, This Time It Is Different (June 12, 2010 http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/13/opinion/13friedman.html) in which Thomas Friedman quotes a letter to the editor written by a friend to his local paper. In part, his friend says, "Here's the bottom line: if we want to end our oil addiction, we, as citizens, need to pony up: bike to work, plant a garden, do something. So again, the oil spill is my fault. I'm sorry. I have not done my part." However true this may be, it is far too simple a 'mea culpa'. A large proportion of the working population have been seduced into living far from their work place and must rely on owning and using a car to get to and from from work. The construction of modern suburbs prevents students from walking or riding bikes to and from school and recreation. It is far cheaper to buy a tomato at the supermarket that to grow one at home, even including the cost of driving. Besides, what I do or don't do is a drop in the bucket compared with what others don't do and do.

Maybe a growing consciousness about the cost of things is needed. Perhaps I should think about the eleven dead at Deepwater Horizon when I gas up my car, or the 29 coal miners dead in Pennsylvania when I turn on the light. Or the 35 to 47 $Billion the oil industry receives each year so that I can have relatively cheap gasoline that makes it possible for me to make four trips downtown a week instead of three, or two.

Today I saw a documentary ('Blood, Sweat, and T-Shirts') in which six young Brits went to India to work in the clothing industry that supplies Europe's fashion shops, living and working in the same conditions as Indian workers. It was a trying and testing experience in which they discovered the harsh discipline workers must endure, that the 'bargain' costing 15 Pounds at home resulted in 33 Rupees (about US$0.45) to the worker who assembled it and who must make 16 garments a day to scape together enough for the necessities of life. In the globalization made possible by cheap oil, garments purchased on 'the cheap' in the developed world, worn once or twice before being discarded, mean a cheap life for those who make them.

Discovering the world beyond what is under our nose can be a shocking experience. Caught up in the web of our own existence, we struggle to understand how things might be different for others if we changed our own behavior. Things might be worse, not better...how can we know?

A couple of things stand out for me. We need to be a lot smarter about how the world of economics and politics 'works' and those of us who are finding out more need to spread the word so as to influence our 'masters and betters'.

Just now, in Australia, in last weekend's election, the governing party may have lost power because it dropped the ball on action to combat global warming. Here in the US, we face the awful consequences of an oil disaster that could have been prevented by better regulation and administration of the industry. Perhaps we are beginning to realize that, for democracy to appear, citizens need to be well versed over issues, to take time from Fox news and 'reality TV' and get busy 'googling'. Maybe we need a Church of the Environment, a religion of the Internet to rescue us from ageing political slogans, and...who knows what?

KNEE #2 UPDATE

TWELVE DAYS ON...

Yippee! I am due to have my staples removed today. I mean those metal-like external stitches used to close up the outermost layer of skin. The incision has been healing nicely, and not quite so long as the one on the left knee. The county Home Care folk have a nurse looking after this and also provide a Physical Therapist to make sure I get going on the tasks of flexing and stretching the knee and recovering a proper walk.

This time around I had to stay overnight after the operation (instead of coming home the same day as I did previously). My health insurer had authorized a stay of up to three days but I was surely glad to be discharged the next day and to be heading off for Painted Post. Each location has its own procedures and this time I had to attend for a pre-surgical screening whereas the out-patient surgery location accepted my local doctor's screening. I still had to go to the local doctor however so the second workup was more complicated and involved travelling up to Rochester for the screening. This, plus the overnight stay, puts an extra load on one's carer.

The inpatient stay seemed more automated; for example, there was less choice about anesthesia. This time it was a spinal block as well as the regional block and an IV infusion to control consciousness. I have a recall of being briefly aware of some hammering and drilling at one point in the procedure (as if to someone else, far away). Cathedrization was non-optional so there was the business of removal and getting the 'water works' going. I suppose one could categorize these as the downsides.

The upsides included special care via pneumatic cuffs on the feet to ensure circulation in the lower limbs, immediate use of ice therapy to manage swelling, more physical therapy and occupational therapy attention, more people with whom to interact, and quite good meals. Also, on the plus side, I got to bring home the ice treatment machine. Apart from the time component, there is much less pressure on one's carer. Being in hospital for an extra day means that day is spent with lots of support.

All in all, what one loses on the swings, one picks up on the merry-go-rounds, as the saying goes.

Having trod this path (forgive the metaphor, if you can) once before, I find I tend to be impatient with progress and maybe a little more irritable on this account. To be fair, however, my impression is that recovery is a little faster this time around. The surgeon reported that the operation was less complex for this knee. I am certainly experiencing a lot less bruising of the lower leg, so he must have had to do less work on getting everything aligned properly.

So here I am, using my walking stick still but able to walk about unaided for short distances and looking forward to the sutures going. I can sit long enough to peck away at this blog and email so expect to hear a little more from me.