Nan's short blog for a short month

I had a most pleasant birthday.   First I did some laundry and a couple of odd jobs, then we set out for my requested birthday walk, which was to walk all the tracks in the Southern Enclosure of the Sanctuary Mountain (Maungatautari).  Ray came into the enclosure with me, and we walked the short Nikau Track, then he returned to the car and I figured how to walk the rest of tracks without too much duplication, and without missing anything out.  It did not take all that long, walking alone.

Amongst the phone calls on my birthday was one from Huw. I heard about his invention to haul himself out of the bath.  He can now lie in a hot bath to ease the pain of his arthritis.  Without his contraption he could not get out of their deep bath unaided.  I could understand his problem. I hurt my shoulders a while ago and could not get out of the bath either, and our bath is only small!  Not having arthritis, my method was the turn over onto my stomach, then get onto my knees.  Then I could stand up and step out!  I can see why they do not have baths in Rest Homes, a fact that Ray deplores.  As I doubt we'll ever afford a rest home we do not have to worry! 

We have had a few of our small adventures.  We were walking around the lake in Cambridge when we noticed a little sign on a tree a few metres from the walk, up a steep bank.  From a hole at the roots of the tree came what looked like a scree of sand.  We were curious, both about the hole and about the little sign.  So what would one do?  Get on one's hands and knees, grab handholds of weeds and pull oneself up the bank, of course.  The complication was that two women came walking along the path and stopped to watch us.  They were concerned for the welfare of two old idiots.   We got with some difficulty to where I could read the small sign, which merely identified the tree.  Pseudotsuga Menziesii, Douglas Fir.  The sand-like soil was fine and dry and white because we had not had rain for ages. The hole was probably made by children.  We then had to get back down to the path.  Ray found a way through the weeds, but I had no patience for that, and as it seemed our audience was not about to depart, I just sat and slid down the loose soil to the path.  Then we talked to the ladies for a bit, trying to assure them that we were comparatively sane.

One day Ray took me to Temple View so I could do a temple session.  On the way home he allowed me to walk around Ngaroto lake by myself.  Ray does not care for that walk because one cannot actually see the lake from the walkway, just trees and swamp.  It is a walk on level ground and board walks, so I could hurry along without straining myself.  I walked as fast as I comfortably could, so as not to keep Ray waiting, and found it took me just over an hour.  I enjoyed it.

An adventure of another kind was taking Midge Brown to church one Sunday, because Midge's car had a problem and he could not use it.  Midge makes Ray feel brilliant, for Midge's memory is a lot worse than Ray's. Midge is ex-army and no more than 70 years old, but very very deaf.  When we picked him up he was not really expecting us, though he had been told that someone would pick him up.  Okay.  We went by the back roads as usual.  Midge declared he had never been that way before. Ray drove up to the church door because Midge has difficulty walking, then drove away to park beside the road in the shade. So far so good.   Three hours later I hurried out after the meetings because Midge would not know where the car was.  That was not all Midge did not know.  I found him wandering around the parking lot looking for his car.  I touched his arm to get his attention, and tried to tell him our car was parked by the road.  I practically had to propel him out of the parking lot.  He was still looking for his car.  I left him standing at the kerb while I ran to tell Ray to drive along to where Midge stood.  I hoped Ray's stronger voice could get through to him.  Not so. Midge was reluctant to get in the car.  He asked more than once whether he had come with us that morning.  We delivered him home, he saw his car and said, “There's my car!  What's wrong with my car?”  Poor old Midge.  I phoned the High Priests Group Leader who had  asked us to bring Midge, and told him the story.  We had shelved the problem of Midge – from our point of view, but are we also coming to this?   Ray and I have been so fortunate in our health and welfare.   Love you all,  Nan.