Rosemary's Ramblings in June

Welcome back Laurie! So good to have you on the Blog!




John, the man Ray used to visit weekly for “Age Concern” unfortunately had to leave his home in Arapuni as his marriage broke up. We found out he had gone to a Rest Home in Morrinsville. Ray has no doubt already mentioned this. Ray is no longer officially John's “Visitor”, but he does not feel like abandoning him, so a couple of times we have been to Morrinsville to visit him. Ray thinks we may do it once a month. When Ray was visiting him officially in Arapuni, I did not go in, despite John's invitations, because it did not seem the right thing to do, Ray having signed, or at least agreed to, some confidentiality clause which prohibited him disclosing information to me or anybody else. Now it is 'unofficial' I go along. In June we arrived just before John's midday dinner time, so while he was eating, we went for a walk around some of the side streets. We discovered a part of Morrinsville we had no idea existed. I am sure it is the same for all small towns. There is more to them than meets the eye. Then we took John out for coffee and had a visit with him. Ray bought a Lotto ticket for John, and one for himself. Neither won! Which was perhaps just as well.



With the end of Ray's visits to Arapuni, came the end of my weekly walks on the Waikato River Trails. I used to enjoy those walks of an hour or two alone on the trail. Ray would drop me off at different points before going to John's house, and I would walk the trail back to the village. I rarely met anyone. Sadly, I did know my last one was the last one. Now I sometimes feel a bit like a caged tiger, but I had been enjoying the walks for two years, so should not complain.



Ray will no doubt tell of his mishap when he backed into a car while he was visiting his old friend Girlie Ellis one Sunday. Girlie's husband Raymond Charles died almost three years ago. Ray continued visiting Girlie as he had visited both of them before Raymond Charles died. The Ellises were always moving from one house to another. Girlie literally has gipsy blood. Or at least she has Romany ancestors. Girlie lives in Tokoroa at present. Tokoroa is in Elder Dylan Petty's zone, and he comes over sometimes to trade off with the Tokoroa missionaries. One day he happened to call at Girlie's house. She noticed his name tag, and asked if he knew a Raymond Petty. Elder Petty said, “He's my grandfather.” So Girlie said, “While his wife in church, he comes to visit me!” That is just what Girlie would say!



As many of you know, about 25 years ago I started storing water under the house in empty drink bottles and milk bottles. I knew storing water in the milk bottles was not advisable for drinking, but, as we would need water for other things if our water supply failed in an emergency, I stored a lot in milk bottles too. After about 10 years of that, I figured I had enough water and stopped. Contrary to recommended policy, I never changed the water in all those years. The bottles got very dirty when we had our flood in 2002, but most of them remained intact.



For some time now, I had wanted to get rid of those water bottles. I have enough water stored elsewhere for just the two of us (I hope!) I wanted them out of the way for when we finish putting the insulation under the house. Ray thought otherwise. He thought he could cover the bottles with plywood and we could crawl around on top of that. Towards the end of June he changed his mind. He figured it would be a good idea to get rid of the water before the electrician had to crawl around under the house.



That very day, before he changed his mind again, I put on a pair of filthy overalls and started the job. It took me all that afternoon and about 8 hours the next day. Ray helped removed the bottles I put out, taking them by wheelbarrow loads an emptying them down “the hole”. When I had so many out in front of the entrance to my cavern, I crawled out and helped with the emptying. Whenever Ray had a trailer full, he took it to the waste transfer station, free of charge, and I crawled back into my lair and dragged, pushed, kicked, and threw more bottles towards the entrance. Then reached out with them as far as I could before getting out and moving them farther afield before I blocked myself in. We had four trailer loads, the last one 'double' because we put boxes of bottles on top of the layer in the trailer. I would have thought I had moved thousands of bottles, but by calculation it was less than 2000. Believe it or not, the water was still good. We tasted it. I must admit my muscles got pretty stiff and sore, and my elbows and hips a bit tender, but it was well worth it. As a reward, I found wood under the house which I needed for edging some of my garden beds. Now the space under the house is clean, clear, empty!



We had the garage door drama episode. I'll scan in what I wrote Dylan about that. Today we had a bit of drama when we got home from Church. We could not open the garage door. As we had the side-door locked, we were stuck. A little wrecking was required. Gramps took the screen off one of the little louvre windows at the back of the garage, and levered out the louvres somehow. I did not think that could be done when the window was fastened from the inside. I reckon anybody who had a mind to break into the garage could do the same thing. When Gramps had taken three louvres out, I fetched the kitchen steps and went in. Getting through the window was the easy part. Just inside that window is my treadmill. When I put my feet down on the treadmill, there really being nowhere else to put them, of course it started rolling backwards, me with it, flat on my back. It would have been hilarious had there been anybody to watch. But had there been anybody in the garage to watch, that bit of acrobatics would not have had to happen. Obviously I not really locked the window, and wasn't that a good thing! then Ray spent much of the rest of the afternoon fixing the door. He can tell you the details.



On the last Saturday in June we attended a wedding in cultural hall of the Tokoroa chapel. Ray went reluctantly and did not enjoy it. There was an excellent dinner afterwards, and then the tedious part of impromptu speeches that we could not hear. It was dark when we came home. Ray had not been feeling too well, having some of his imbalance episodes. Some of our friends were a bit concerned, and one even offered to drive us home. We drove home by the back road, as we usually do. The car seemed to have a greater than usual propensity for heading into the ditch, fortunately the left hand side ditch. Next morning when we started for church, Ray noticed he had lost a hub cap. We were driving slowly up the road looking for the hub cup in the ditch, when we found the road ahead completely blocked by an articulated cattle truck. We did not find out how the accident happened. The truck driver was all right. Not so some of the cattle. So we had to return and go to Tokoroa by another route. For the first time that I remember, I was late for church! This made a couple of people wonder whether after all we had failed to make it home the previous evening. It was okay though, it was Fast Sunday, and there had been babies blessed, so I was there in time for the Sacrament hymn. We drove home slowly too, but did not see the hub cap. As we could not remember where exactly the car hit the ditch – which was more than once, Ray did not think it worth getting out and searching on foot.



That's a whole lot of stuff from me. Probably be nothing again next month! The Rambler.