Month: December 2023

Makeshift repair

A strong wind flattened my runner beans this afternoon. My carefully constructed bean frame with a crossbar, simply gave way, and some of the bamboo stakes snapped. When the wind had died down, I extracted some stronger stakes from the garden shed and began a repair. I incorporated the old hen run gate (itself a repurposed trellis) and pieces of twine. I’m not entirely confident that it will stand up to another strong wind.

I watered the beans to help them recover from their ordeal. They were looking limp – as are the lettuces in the greenhouse (also a makeshift structure), and the lettuces in the vertical garden which are attracting ants for some reason.

7pm and it’s still hot!
The white powder is diatomaceous earth to discourage the ants

I suspect Mum is okay with a haphazard repair to her broken hip. She is ignoring the physiotherapist’s advice to exercise to get her circulation going and to improve her strength. My brother suggests I withhold her porridge until she’s done her exercises – porridge being her favourite thing. No wonder her siblings called her ‘The Biz’!

An imperfect note on which to end the year, perhaps, with more makeshift repairs to come – no doubt about it. Happy new year!

No stopping yet

I will eat healthily after Christmas, I thought. But no, it’ll take a few days to eat all these gifts.

Already, I’ve had a fruit mince pie with my morning coffee. A wee while later I couldn’t resist a lolly cake ball. Then, when struggling over the code cracker in this morning’s paper, I had a belgium biscuit to give me strength.

Here’s hoping for hungry visitors!

PS: And I haven’t even mentioned our impressive chocolate stash.

Miracles

A small painted stone beside the track to the beach put a focus on the time of year.

Further along our walk, was another way of celebrating Christmas.

Both show (putting aside religious and commercial spin) the love of family, the innocence of childhood, and parents’ wish to preserve and protect that innocence.

A lone figure was contemplating the wide sea and sky and perhaps the meaning of life. Standing on the end of a storm-water pathway obscured by high tide, he seemed to be walking on water.

Later that day, at a pre-Christmas family gathering, my brother-in-law (with help from the internet) created a culinary miracle.

Due to the miracles of modern medical science (in this case, a partial hip replacement), my mother was able to join us. She is home now, and able to get out to enjoy familiar places and people – and pets.

Look for evidence of more miraculous medical work – under that knee bandage.

Third time lucky

It was not my intention to have three haircuts in almost as many days. The first was ‘just a tidy up please’. The hairdresser was afflicted with industrial strength lethargy as if he was bored with life entirely. It wasn’t long before I realised he’d made a mess of it and I ended up at another hairdresser’s for a repair job. The second guy worked hard, layering and texturing – I’m learning the jargon.

At least it was even and looked controllable, but by the next day it had become rounded looking and ‘boofy’ which reminded me of the coiffure of Wendolene Ramsbottom in Wallace and Gromit.

I took my mother to the hairdresser at the hospital today and got talking to the hairdresser about my ‘repair job’. She told me to come back after I’d delivered Mum to the ward. Then she set to, fixing what she described as ‘that clown look’ in no time at all.

It feels much better.

Another sure sign

A fall of snow may be a sign of Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere. Here in the antipodes, the white flowers on the myrtle are one sure sign that Christmas is near. Another is the vigorous Iceberg (haha) rose.

Despite being pruned in July to the height of the trellis, the rose has just about doubled its size to form an arch over the drive.

Balm for the troubled soul, as I worry about Mum and how we will manage when she comes home, and hope she will be fit enough to enjoy our Christmas and summer family events.

Christmas trees

As I worked in the garden this morning I could hear the hum of many bees. Sure enough, the Rōhutu (lophomyrtus obcordata or NZ myrtle) is beginning to flower and is attracting honey bees.

I associate the Rōhutu with Christmas, although we have a ‘traditional’ tree in the house, kindly delivered by my sister and family on Saturday (we were anxiously keeping busy while Mum had her hip-replacement surgery).

It’s usually Mum who decorates it, but this year it had to be me. She is keen to be home, but has a wee bit of recuperation to do first. I’m sure Felix misses her.

Felix takes a break from chewing Santa’s hat

While I’m on the subject of trees, I took a photo of this amazing, huge tree in Hagley Park as I walked to visit Mum at the hospital on Monday.

Keep active!

Mum is in hospital recovering from her operation and berating herself for not taking more care as she stepped through the back door on Thursday. Meanwhile, on the beach this morning surf patrollers (including my nephew) were competing in their IRBs (Inflatable Rescue Boats). We watched in awe as their boats became airborne crossing the breakers.

It seems to me to be a great advertisement for an active lifestyle so that muscles and bones are strong into old age. Surf patrolling begins with very young children who were also on the beach training on this very hot day.

Many children were visiting Santa Claus on the beach with their families. He had a surf board and a driftwood Christmas tree. I hoped he wasn’t too hot in his suit, but he said he had shorts and tee shirt underneath. I was relieved he didn’t say he had just a thong. That could ruin your Christmas.

It’s coming up to 5 o’clock and I wonder if Mum is still holding off having the cheese and crackers they gave her at 3pm. She was waiting until after 5pm which is when we have cheese and crackers at home. We told her it was okay to break the rules. It’s breaking bones you have to watch out for.

Hospital detail

We’ve been keeping Mum company in hospital where she is waiting for surgery for a broken hip. She is in the beautiful new Waipapa section of the hospital. There’s hardly a dull moment and today, being the 1st of December, the nurses have donned novelty shirts which are very cheering.

Photos are not allowed for privacy reasons, but little details caught my eye.

There are footprints on the sheet at the foot of Mum’s bed. Perhaps for orienting the sheet correctly? The bottom sheet is made of stretchy material. And there are no ‘hospital corners’ when you have a fitted sheet.

Footprints at the end of the bed
Stretchy fabric sheet
No hospital corners