Bangkok

I have been in Bangkok with my wife for the past few days. We are staying for two weeks. The serviced apartment we are using is in the same street, Soi Saladaeng, as the first apartment I stayed in when I arrived in Bangkok 30 years ago. That old apartment block is still there. It still looks the same, a brooding white tile building with lots of unorthodox extensions mad by owners. I was happy there but didn't stay long.

Saladaeng is still a nice area although development has removed many of the old houses in compounds that once lined the street. But there is still enough that is familiar to make it feel like it did when I lived there so many years ago. Fortunately many of the trees have been preserved so it is still a bit leafy.

Thailand is preparing for the funeral of King Bhumipol. His funeral will be on my birthday, just before we leave Thailand. Bangkok is in a high state of preparation.

Back again

My little blog once again fell off the back of the truck. This time for quite an extended period. A shame really because I have been on quite a journey.

I think the news from the hospital tests in August that I wasn't sick was a big boost. In August I started feeling more like myself again. So I stopped writing for a while.

This big internal tussle has been about whether I made the right decision leaving my employer and what to do next. That could have made for some tedious posts.

It's not resolved yet but what's done is done so I'm not sure what the postmortems are achieving. My wife is certainly over it. I need to move on. Slowly a new life is unfolding. I feel much better in myself on the whole. My life is not over.

I have become more aware of the world around me. The little things that happen, time, which seems to have slowed down.

I wrote a poem after walking the dog on the weekend.

The Path

An old pavement

Cement specked with blue metal

Leading through the gum trees

By the sealed road

Past the houses

Laid down 40 years ago

Messages left in the pour -

Children's footprints, worker's boots, dog paws

LC loves CS

PB loves .....

Grass has encroached

The blue metal shines

Polished by wear and time

Cracks and bumps craze, chip

I leave no visible mark

My little dog's feet "tap, tap"

Perhaps a little wears away

A stone scrapes and scratches

The path endures.

We move on along it

Hardly noticing it everyday

Its many clues and signs

The excitement of the pour

Rare as an eruption or eclipse

Where are those people now?

Do they remember that day?

It was important enough

To mark with spontaneous effacement

A little joy on a sunny day

A rare event in a new suburb

Now sun and moon and rain

Bath the path each day

And many will pass and be gone

While the path will remain.

MQ
16/9/17

Pristine

The blog took a back seat for a week while my troubled son was here. The time we spent together was very good. He said it was better than the last time he was here. He filled me with joy, opened up, smiled, improvement was evident. He loves our new dog Sheba and she loved him too as only dogs can. They seem to have an uncanny nose for those who need love. She stayed close to him. So did I, without crowding him.

We (Mrs Horse and I) didn't hassle him about getting a job, just tried to love and enjoy him as he is. There is a lot to enjoy. We love him so deeply, as with all our sons. The Irish have a belief that those like him are "touched" by God, which makes them extra special, a kind of measure of how we are doing, caring for the troubled.

I've been turning over in my mind my decision to leave my career, other possible futures which I felt might out his future at grave risk. As I spoke or did things with him I was reminded of the words of an old song:

I don't care how much it cost,
I don't count the loss,
As long as I
Can see your face again.

That about sums it up don't you think? There are so many lost unloved souls today, I don't know why. But we are called upon sometimes to reach out and be there for people.

Oh! I had my delayed heart tests - my arteries were described by the specialist as "pristine". So much for my worries! Pristine is my word for the day, a beautiful word.

Tests

I went to the hospital today to have a cardio CT. There was an elaborate process of preparation. First abstinence from anything with caffeine for 24 hours, then nicotine and alcohol for 12 hours, then food for four hours before the test and finally any liquids for two hours. I followed the instructions to the letter. I found out later that idea is to empty the stomach and bowels because the dye they use to view the heart arteries can make you ill.

There were three people having the test that morning, an African lady, a former mid wife from the same hospital and myself. Mrs Horse came with me to give moral support. We were prepped for the test and placed in hospital beds, ready to go. Our pulse rates were lowered to between 50 and 60. Mine was pretty low already but I was given a beta blocker to get it down below 60 consistently.

Catheters were about to be inserted when a technician came around to announce that the CT machine wasn't working and a technician had been called. Mercifully the nurses decided not to administer the catheters until the status of the machine had been determined. I slept during the wait and had strange dreams, possibly influenced by the drugs administered.

There was time to observe what was going on in the ward. A man was wheeled in next to me with throat cancer. He was facing some heavy duty chemo therapy and a catheter was being inserted into his stomach for pain relief. His wife was with him and could barely contain her distress. They had already been on a painful journey. Then he was wheeled away and gone, probably forever from my life.

Across the way was an older Scottish gentleman. He was 67 and a veteran of trips to hospital. It wasn't clear what he was in for, but it was a cardio ward. His pulse rate was at 173 at one point. He put up with the inconveniences of hospital admission with great dignity and often looked across at me with a friendly expression. The only thing that disturbed him was when a clearly deranged young woman became upset somewhere nearby, just outside the ward. She was demanding to see the doctor and then to go home, with lots of expletives.

Otherwise the ward was peaceful and the nurses and staff looked after us very well. After about two hours, our tests were all rescheduled for the following week.

Go Fish

In addition to Sheba the fox terrier, we also have two goldfish, Martin the mainly silver one and Aung the more multi-coloured one. The petshop was delighted when we took the silver one because for some reason customers didn't want him. They want colour I imagine. I was only too happy to take him because the two fish seemed to be friends and I think ghostly grey is a striking colour.

It was raining in Canberra today so it was a good opportunity to change the water and clean the beautiful Chinese vase or pot that they live in. I caught a lot of rainwater from a leaking roof gutter. Enough to fill their vase and an old aquarium which I put them in while cleaning was in progress.

Meanwhile their Chinese vase got a good clean, with Sheba taking a close interest in proceedings.

She one of her little doggy coats on today because it was cold. I imagine she may blog about it.

Trimming

I went out to buy new belts today. Since leaving work I have lost weight. My waistline has shrunk. I'm eating less junk food, less generally. I'm exercising more. My appetite has returned recently but I'm eating healthier.

I'm better able to cope with my troubled son, who is with us at the moment. He helped in the garden again today. The weather wasn't as nice, overcast and raining now and then. It was good to see him active. He even started getting a bit bossy about the work and how it should be done. But by the afternoon he had slipped back into his stupor, drawn back into the imaginary world of the computer.

It will take time, now I have it. This week we will do more cleaning up and gardening.

Sheba our little fox terrier has helped keep Dom and I moving. I use her to get him up in the morning. She jumps on his bed and licks his face. She is so exuberant and full of life.

Deeper into the garden

Today we cleared the trees and shrubs that were getting up under the gutters of the house. It was a warm day for the Canberra winter. There was a lot of biomass to remove. Mrs Horse and Dominic helped.

We have a lot of fruit trees. The garden was planted out by the Italian who built the house or someone in his family. I have often wondered who it was. Grape vines run through the trees. The vines had used one of the trees to get into the roof gutters at one point, about forty feet up, an extraordinary effort.

Mr Horse concentrated on the fruit trees while Dom and I worked on the trees fouling the gutters. We soon had about a truckload of cuttings, which we will make more manageable this week before removal. It was good to get out in the garden. There is peace in the garden.

In the garden

Dom the troubled foal is with us at the moment. He is better than he was the last time he was here. There are glimmers of his old self. But he still spends most of his time on his computer, locked in his own world. What he is doing there is anyone's guess. He claims he is applying for jobs. But most of the time he seems to be playing online games or watching movies and TV shows.

Sheba is helpful in engaging him. She helped me wake him up this morning. He complained about her being on his bed but I think he liked it. He got up soon after, a lot earlier than he normally does.

In the afternoon we worked in the garden. He did not demure when I asked him to help me. He did a good job. So much potential in that boy. He is such a sweet child. Perhaps this is the way forward. The weather was sunny and warm. The garden is slowly coming back to life after the coldest part of the winter.

Sydney Skin

I went to see the dermatologist in Sydney. I feared he would give me the dreaded creme. But it turned out I didn't need it. I realised for the first time that I'm on my own now when it comes to medical care. But this only puts me in the company of 99% of the human race.

Sydney is so much warmer than Canberra. I could wear summer clothes up there.

Doctors and Shrinks

An up and down day. I really enjoyed writing the first installment of the Sheba blog. That filled the morning and some of the afternoon. I also managed to do the washing.

I had to go and see the doctor in the afternoon to get a referral letter for the dermatologist. I was nervous about that appointment, but the doctor said I had done absolutely the right thing by going to the hospital when I experienced possible heart attack symptoms a couple of weeks ago. That was reassuring.

She also said my blood work was enviable - she would be happy to have my blood - but to make sure I saw the specialist after the CT scan. I will. I was particularly happy she did not give me any medicines. A perhaps illogical fear - you retire and immediately they put you on pills.

In the evening I saw Andrew the shrink. He said with everything that was going on I was doing pretty well. He suggested I start setting goals - short like daily, medium like weekly and long-term like monthly. I said "to do" lists worked for me. I'll try and implement what he suggests in my own way.

Tomorrow we go to Sydney.

I'll bet they didn't have health insurance or shrinks, and they didn't give a damn either - too busy living.

Catching up with old school friends

One of the things I have done since deciding to leave my career job is get in touch with old school friends. There was a reunion page that put me in touch with many of them. It also meant I had to get a Facebook page for the first time. This was interesting in itself because I have always stayed away from Facebook, and was rather proud of my prior invisibility.

So anyway, this morning I caught up with, going round the table from left, Gerard, Stephen, moi and Colin on the end.

They have all led interesting lives.

Gerard was a chef originally but later became a policeman and now teaches weapons and tactics at the police academy. He lives off the grid near Bungendore, with Tracy, another old school friend. I have known Gerard since first class. In our early teens we spent a lot of time together after school having Huck Finn adventures around the Georges River at Como. We had the place pretty much to ourselves, along with Matt Somerville, who sadly passed away very young but is not forgotten.

Stephen worked at Channel 7 and then joined the Federal police. Because of his knowledge of video - it was in the eighties - he became a police crime scene photographer and later a senior police administrator. In his late forties he suddenly chucked it all in and set up his own company providing training to government departments. He is now pursuing acting jobs. I have known him since fifth class at high school.

Col grew up in housing commission houses at Jannali. He briefly worked at a clerical job in Sydney before moving to the south coast with his parents and becoming a mechanic. He still has the workshop but spends his quality time acting and composing songs. He has appeared in several television commercials, the latest being this one for Aldi:

Varied lives, Col's acting career perhaps the biggest surprise. He plays knockabout Australian characters, which he is.

Saturday in Canberra

It was very chilly here in Canberra this morning. There was a heavy frost and fog shrouded our home, which is on a prominent hill. I stayed in bed a bit longer than usual after getting the dog some brekky and up and about. I brought her little bed up and put it outside our bedroom and she happily stayed there after a feed and waited for us to get up, which was around  8 am. I was feeling a bit unwell again.

Sheba sleeps in the utility room behind our garage. I heat it up before she goes to bed. The first few nights she complained a little but always a lady, once she got used to it, she sleeps there happily. Now I give her a biccy and pat before she goes down and she likes that. It is one of the most insulated rooms in the house, with a little high window so she gets some natural light most nights. Last night I went back in there after bedtime and she did not complain after I left again.

The toilet training is continuing patiently. I never scold her. We are using positive (loving) training methods and she responds very well, because she is lovely of course. I've put a big bone outside for her which she likes to chew on when she is in our beautiful Italian garden, now dulled by winter but still enchanting to me. Tomorrow I shall sit out there with a glass of red, weather and Mrs Horse, permitting.

As always Mrs Horse was anxious to get moving. We went and looked at a car, and briefly some lounge suites, before stopping at the Asian food shop at Mawson. It is one of her favorite places and when we got home she made some delicious flat noodles with roast pork and broccoli for me. It filled and cheered me no end. As did meeting a couple of former colleagues in the supermarket. One, also retired, assured me there is life after. He is active in the media and scholarship, a Middle East expert and former boss of mine.

Mrs Horse being Mrs Horse wanted to go immediately for a walk on the hills above our house. I would have preferred a little digestion time. But in marriage I have learned best to accommodate where you can, so off we went with Sheba leading the way, walking rather proudly as she likes to do. It's not my best photo but you get the idea...

After quite a long walk on the hills in the sunshine, we had a little nap at home together and got on with various things. It is evening now and Mrs Horse is doing the ironing. Always a dangerous time when she does housework...I shall keep a low profile and do my share.

Gassed

One thing being at home more has shown is all the things that are wrong with the house. The ducted gas heating is at the top of the list. I feel like I am being gassed, no offence to Victor Frankl. There is a gas smell around the meter and after the gas has been running for a while, the house feels like an oven. Especially if it is warm and the sun is coming in.

Yesterday I didn't blog because I wasn't feeling well. I think the heating had something to do with it. My mouth was very dry and I felt tired.

Today is another day and I am feeling a lot better so far. We are leaving a bit late today because Mrs Horse is trying to lodge a passport application. She badly wants to see her mother. I should have done something about that earlier. She got a hard time at a post office outlet yesterday. I think she wants me along to ride shotgun.

Sheba was ready to go. I had to get her out of the car because we are leaving later. She wasn't happy about it but went along, all the while giving quizzical looks - she loves going in the car. She also loves running around like a lunatic:

The heavy breathing at the start of the clip is me gasping for air after spending a period of time in the house with the ducted gas heating on.

Victor Frankl

I stumbled across Victor Frankl's work when reading an article in a Sunday paper. Frankl was an Austrian Jewish psychiatrist who was caught up in the holocaust when the Nazis annexed Austria. He survived Auschwitz.

His life's work was to help people find meaning in their lives. A small excerpt:

I found his insights quite helpful at a time when I am searching for new meaning in my life.

Dehydration and Daily Routine

Lots of strange ideas come to you when you have time on your hands.

Last night I half thought, half dreamt that that maybe my illness earlier this year had been caused by dehydration. There may be something to this. It was certainly a factor in my trip to the hospital. I was very thirsty and after getting something to drink at the hospital, I started to feel better.

It only took me a week to realise this. But there was much more than that was going on. The conflict between the demands of my career and the needs of my family had become acute. I could not resolve it without giving up something. I wasn't going to throw my family under the bus by being away again when they needed me. So I took the money and ran.

So now I have to build a new life. It's hard because Mrs Horse is still at work and there the power has definitely shifted. I'm not retired but she wants me to be. She told me on the weekend that she and her siblings had forced their father to retire. I thought of it as castration and need to avoid that. The trouble is a man that does not work is not a man. Health and vitality comes from activity. I can't just be a "former".

For now, my daily routine slowly develops. I still get up at 5.30am, feed the dog, and then Mrs Horse and I go for a walk at about 6am. She showers, I take the dog out to poop. I bath. I drive her to work. On the way home I get coffee and something to eat. I take the dog out again in hopes of bowel movement, today sucessfully. In the morning I write and work, for the moment sorting through old papers, which is cathartic but sometimes tedious. There is no end to them.

After lunch I work around the house and walk the dog if the weather is good enough, as it is today. In the late afternoon, Sheba and I go and pick Mrs Horse up from work, sometimes we have to wait, which underlines my new status as chauffeur, the new power balance. We go the supermarket on the way home, have dinner, watch some TV and then go to bed, quite early.

That is where the dehydration was coming in, the early nights, and why I thought of it last night when I was thirsty in the middle of the night. It's not much, but it's a start. If I keep busy I'm okay.

You don't get me I'm part of the union

I received a call today from the Community and Public Service Union to confirm that I was no longer a member of the Australian Public Service because my union dues had ceased coming out of my pay. I was able to confirm this for them. After 30 years of service, and many years working as a delegate and helping people, unionism - a big part of my life, had come to end.

The second line of the chorus says "till the day I die" - that must mean I'm still a member without paying dues - sweet...

Back to School

Patrick returns to school today. He was suspended at the end of last term for a week for having alcohol in the boarding house. There was a party near the school and the boarders took some beer back from there, and promptly got busted with it during a dorm search. He will have to face the music when he goes back. No more chances for him probably. Another reason we need to stay in Australia.

Yesterday, Sunday, was not a bad day. We went to church at Saint Michael's as usual. There was marriage guidance material available. Father Greg, the Capuchin monk who says mass, quipped that since the average age of the congregation was over sixty they might need to pass the material on. After we went home, the boys were up and had a bit of time sitting in the sun. It was like spring in Sydney.

I was still feeling unwell on Sunday morning, a bit light headed. We went to the Addison Road markets. Sheba made a friend in another dog, Max, but he got jealous when his female owner took an interest in our girl. The couple asked if Sheba was rescue dog. They meant  a dog adopted from a shelter. I said she was. Her nervousness around other dogs betrayed her.

After Addison road Mrs Horse and I went to the Marrickville Metro mall. Mrs Horse wanted to get some meat for lunch. Sheba and I waited outside with a paper and a coffee.

We watched a young couple play chess on the large board in the garden. It was a young white male and a beautiful Asian girl, a very close, peaceful couple. They were playing terrible chess but enjoying each other's company. It reminded me of Mrs Horse and I when we were younger. What lies ahead for them?

Mrs Horse made curry when we got home and we all stood around in the sunshine at the front of the house enjoying it. That was the best part of the day.

Sydney

Off to Sydney this weekend to take our youngest back to school. It didn't start well. He wasn't ready. But eventually we got away.

The mist was still rising from Lake George and fog was hanging around the hills after 9am. We had Sheba with us for the first time so planned two toilet/walking stops. The first was at Goulburn, the second at Pheasant's Nest. It turned out she didn't need either of them and just enjoyed the ride, sleeping most of the way and enjoying a bit of a walk and a sniff at the stops.

When we got to Sydney Sheba made friends with Nicholas. He made a few sniffs about how small she is but she made every effort to win him over and they were fast friends.

Funny how dogs can pick out those who need a little love.

An unscheduled trip to the hospital

This morning Mrs Horse and I went for our usual early morning walk, now with Sheba the doggy tagging along. I felt poorly afterwards. The symptoms didn't go away after an hour and it seemed to be ticker so Mrs Horse drove me to Canberra hospital.

I was taken straight in from Emergency for observation - they don't muck around with possible heart problems with blokes my age. My symptoms were still apparent when I arrived but after an hour they suddenly improved and I felt much better.

At that point I was feeling pretty silly. But at least I got checked out and a heart attack was ruled out.

I'll be having further tests.

Doggy Do

The redundancy money came in overnight, so we won't starve over the winter...

Well not really - we live well. But the bills keep rolling in. My pension is almost the same as my old take home pay - go figure. We are better off than most. Although I did slot a lot of money in there over the years.

Mrs Horse stepped in a little treat Sheba left in the living room last night. The dog is still here so must have done enough to stay.

 I want to have a look around at what's available on the jobs front. Mrs Horse wants me to retire fully, fearing for my health. She suggested I might enjoy going down to join the other pensioners at Donut King on pension day. I must be getting my mojo back because I took that comment in my stride.

She is right in a way - as usual we are thinking along parallel lines - idleness and isolation are killers too.

Everybody has got to work

My new status as house frau is meaning the use of a whole new range of muscles. It has been said women live longer than men because they do housework. There may be something to this. I've got aches and pains from using muscles I haven't used for a long time. I could get quite fit and slim if I keep this up.

The main game has been getting the dog smell out of the house. Sheba is a doll but she is also a smelly little dog, still not house-trained. We're working on that. The pungent smell of her pee surprised me. I've been airing the house and working the mop. I'll give her a wash tomorrow.

Monitoring

One of the unfortunate side effects of not working is I spend a lot of time monitoring myself. I'm regularly checking my pulse on the smart watch I got for Christmas. There is nothing smart about this watch from that point of view.

Leaving your employer means leaving behind a safety net of sick leave. I had over a year's worth built up. It's liberating but also a bit scary when you've always had that time off to fall back on.

There is something illogical about it as well. The sick leave was never going to save you from a major illness. I was looking like crap before I left work and that was one reason I took the package. I didn't want to "die in office".

On the up side, doing something about your health is something you have more time for once retired. You've left behind the stress that may have been killing you slowly. Maybe slowly you can get better, fitter. I'm going to try. I feel better already.

I think I'll go and have a cigarette to celebrate - wait a minute - need to do something about that. Beating the actuary is a worthy new goal.

Women and females same dame

I solemnly told my little stallions never let a woman/girl/female move in with you - have lots of female friends of various levels of intimacy - who live elsewhere. I let their mother move in with me before we were married and here we are. Which wasn't a bad outcome at all but thank goodness she is not reading this thing. She made my life complete.

Of course the oldest immediately fell for a young lady in first year uni, who is very like his mother, although only I could see it at first. She practically saved his life. She is on the left.

So then I stopped giving advice. Last weekend the second young stallion (photo) showed me an indiscreet text from an older woman, whom he thinks taught him drama on a school course, and is now teaching him a few other things apparently. I offered to go in his place but he said that wouldn't work. Drat.

It's way more fun being Dad when you don't give advice. Probably best to just please the ladies - things seem to go better I have learned.

Sheba the dog has only been here two days and I'm already carrying her little pink pouf around the house like one of the Queen of Sheba's Africans, sometimes with the dog in it. Are you comfortable dear? This is what happens when the fairer ones move in.

There are worse fates.

Trip to Braidwood

We took a little trip to Braidwood today. Sheba had to stay home. I'm still deciding if it should be Sheeba or Sheba. The latter seems more correct.

It was cold so we didn't want to go far. We stopped at the Braidwood cakeshop and had coffee. When we got home Sheba was waiting for us, she is such a good girl. She didn't make any mess.

Still adjusting to life after career. Mrs Horse gets very cross if I get gloomy, which keeps me on the right track.

Sheeba joins the family

Sheeba the mini fox terrier joined the family this afternoon. Mrs Horse liked her immediately as you can see. If she hadn't the dog would still be in stir.

We spent about two hours at the RSPCA completing the adoption. Lee from their adoption team was very friendly and thorough. She showed us how to train the dog using positive reinforcement, which is great because I hate punishing dogs. The new methods are so much better.

She will keep me company when I am home alone. I can tell she will keep me busy. We bonded immediately. She is only 8 months old so should be easy to train. She seems very intelligent but a bit yappy. We'll need to work on that. I took her for a walk and she barked at every dog we met, including much bigger big ones. The whole family is happy with her, want more photos.

Friday on my mind and a doggy

Time is flying. I had a farewell lunch with some old union comrades. I was quite emotional, nice photos. Wrote an article on North Korea, half finished, developments moving too fast.

Today we looked at dogs at the RSPCA. We were lucky. There was a lovely little mini-fox terrier called Speck. We asked to see her. It turned out her real name, or perhaps stage name, was Sheba. She belonged to a lady who couldn't look after her anymore - so not in stir for bad habits.

Pat came with me. He liked the dog too, only about one, full of energy, loves walks. We are going to take Mrs Horse to have a look on Saturday. This afternoon we were fixing the fences. But it was cold so more work to do tomorrow. Sunday we'll drive down the coast.

I wasn't feeling well this morning but much better this afternoon after a nap. I'm turning into a proper pensioner. I might have to get a job soon before I completely rusticate, but rather not for now.

Time to do all the things I couldn't with my employer and all the travel that entailed, like own a dog. Life is short.

Tuesday work work (not)

The second day of the first full week not at work.

I had a mental health day yesterday, just did something I enjoy - playing civ. When I allowed myself to do that, waves of calm came over me.

The weather in Canberra has been very cold at night. Nearly minus 9 on the weekend (8.7). Beautifully sunny today.

Our youngest came down on the bus last night so I will have some company for these first couple of weeks of not being at work. I must remember to wash.

The song for my last day was "Four seasons in one day" Crowded House.

Out and away

It's Saturday morning after leaving the office on Wednesday. The week went quickly, there were things to sign off, hand over, get signed. I said to a few people leaving was harder than escaping Shawshank prison. Then I had to go to Sydney on Thursday, my first day out. I was back to Canberra Friday for a medical appointment.

Over the past two weeks I had let people know I was leaving as I bumped into them in the corridor or at the coffee shop. It was a good way to say goodbye. I got lots of nice comments, genuine praise sometimes for my many years of service. There was excitement, sometimes envy as I mentioned before. I seemed to meet most people I wanted to speak to. It gave me confidence I was doing the right thing. There were some people I didn't tell, but only a few.

The day after I had to take my youngest son to Sydney for a medical appointment. He needed to be checked for reaction to his older brother's issues. It turned out he was fine. The psychologist said he was a very centered boy, mature for his age. That was a relief, and a source of some pride. He might need some relationship counselling though so we were given a referral. It is good he won't be going to the same place as his older brother. I'll arrange something in Canberra.

The long drives to and from Canberra were therapeutic. A time to think. I can't believe it has been a week since I last posted here. Too much going on, too much movement and emotion I guess. Sometimes its hard to put into words how you are thinking and feeling.

Preparing for life after a long career

My farewell was a typically perfunctory affair for my office, a morning tea, although this was what I had asked for - no fuss. I couldn't bear an awkward lunch.

People tried and I was grateful for the effort but I wanted it to be over quickly. Some nice words were spoken and I gave a short speech. I got a certificate of appreciation from The Secretary "for over 30 years service". There was some envy about leaving work behind but in a nice way. 53 is early to be starting a generous pension, with a tidy sum of cash in hand to start the next chapter,

The truth is, not many, in fact none of the people there knew me. That is how it goes with long service and high staff turnover. They could reel off my CV, which was touted as impressive, but little more. I shall have a lunch with my staff next week and then one with some old union comrades and that will be it.

I found out on the day or the day before from a senior colleague and friend that my name was on a posting list for another senior appointment, presumably before I asked for a VR. She said she had been thinking of asking me to come and work with her but had decided not to when she saw my name on a posting list. She was sure she had seen my name but couldn't recall the details. It was just as well.

I have felt some pangs about that since but I might as well blow up my family if I go away again now. At least I'm going out on top and giving myself every chance to give love and support to my dear ones, who have clearly suffered because of my long absences. Enough is enough is Mrs Horse's view. I tend to agree but need to find a way of living that fits better with their needs, and mine. Another posting would be more of the same and the first further crisis at home, which seems likely, and it could implode. That would be no way to end but far more importantly I don't want anyone to get hurt again because I wasn't around.

After the farewell ceremony I decided I wanted to be with people who really know me and love me, my family. I hopped in the car and drove to Sydney, following Mrs Horse and our youngest who had taken the bus in the morning. I spent Thursday, Friday and most of Saturday there. I felt better having loved ones around me. It is clear to me that my family need me - and I need them - perhaps more to the point. I couldn't bear to be too far away from them again - at least until they are all settled in life, which will take some years.

I was able to attend a birthday dinner for my oldest. That was worth the drive. He turned 23. By 23 I had already started my career. He is far from that, mucked things up initially but getting back on track now with the love and support of his beautiful partner. Times have changed so the benchmark doesn't apply. He is happy and I am proud of him. I dropped off a card to him before we came back saying so.

On Friday I rang my father. They have to decide this week whether to move into a retirement home. Dad is 83 and Mum is 87. He said if they leave it much longer the home won't take them because they would be too frail to start. It didn't sound like they would be moving. It was a reminder that I'm not the only one facing big life changes.

My third foal was much better. It looks like he is on the cusp of getting a job. The second has two jobs and is working far too hard, 15 hours on Friday, but not studying. Our first is doing the same, two jobs and long shifts, also not studying. The last is suspended from school until next term. Everywhere I see need. But can I really help? Or must I help myself first?

It looked like Mrs Horse might be able to get a voluntary redundancy on Wednesday, and we could move almost immediately to Sydney, but this fell through by Thursday evening. I wasn't too disappointed - too much change might be a bad thing. The thought of selling the Canberra stable and moving to Sydney so soon was making my head spin. Everything will work out in time.

A week to go

My farewell from the office is tomorrow - 30 years of service. That is a long time.

I'm getting lots of friendly messages from people, congratulations. People are excited, some envious. It's kind of nice.

Has it been five days?

The blog took a back seat to more drama, last foal got suspended from school for having alcohol in the boarding house. He is in the Canberra stable with us.

Meanwhile separation preparations from employer proceed. There is no turning back now. I'm out 28 June, and probably not a moment too soon. The family needs me.

Calm at last

The last few days have been very hard. I finally got my calm back today. Food seemed to have something to do with it. I hadn't been eating well.

The wisdom of women

I talked to Mrs Horse about a few things. She made me feel better. Where would I be without my woman?

The foal is staying in Sydney

We are heading back to Canberra today - without the troubled one. He is refusing to return with us. We are not pressing him. It would be counter productive. So his brothers and their housemate have to continue putting up with him. Having a deranged person in the house is no fun at all.

A wet long weekend in more ways than one.

Sad Saturday in Sydney

The crisis continues in Sydney. Now the foal's condition is seriously affecting other members of the family. Their studies, their zest for life. Where will it end? He needs help but isn't getting enough. We can't help him and he can't help himself.

Everyone gets drawn into his chaos. So it goes with mental illness.

The Foal stumbles

Another crisis with the troubled foal tonight.

Long talks on the phone with various people.

Troubled minds, much more difficult than broken legs.

Crisis averted but we'll be in Sydney tomorrow to help in person.

Probably need to bring him back with us to the Canberra stable again. If he will come.

X Trail

Sold the Nissan X Trail yesterday. Don't buy an X Trail.

What else did I do? Oh yeah - saw another financial adviser. Remind me of X Trails.

Financial advisers

One of the things you need to do when you are retiring is see financial advisers. I have seen several over the past few weeks. It hasn't been a bad experience, although there always seems to be another detail that comes out with every new discussion. They remind me of bookmakers adjusting their odds whenever a likely punter walks by.

Planning Day

That last post was way too long but fun.

We had a planning day at work today. No plan emerged. My boss said she had been to three of them and she discerned no progress. At least the people are nice - and expert at what they do - I will miss them.

We went to a hotel and all the day basically confirmed, at least for me, is the that the world is becoming more chaotic and dangerous if that's possible. There was also an unstated consensus that government is not coping on too many levels to mention. There were no obvious solutions.

One point to emerge unchallenged was that the next generation is likely to be the first in Australia to be poorer than the current.

I think we may have had way too many offspring. Although it does increase the chances that one might emerge to carry the others. This was the attitude of the feudal peasant and urban poor before the welfare state, which is being rapidly dismantled or made ever more inaccessible.

My main comfort is that most predictions about the future are wrong, especially the most confident ones.

Back to work (sort of)

Did I mention I'm leaving my job after 30 years? Only three more Mondays and I should be out. It's time to go. I'll take my pension and do other stuff before it's too late.

Work was something that I did today as if it would go on for another 30 years but already people are talking about a future that I won't be part of, even by next month.

I had a good day, even lunched with friends at the Labor Club. One of whom, let's call him Franko -  a solid party comrade - is also taking a package. As we walked back to the office, we talked, influenced by the house red, about leaving inappropriate out of office messages on our phones and computers when we go, like "By the way, you the know the rumour that this organisation is elitist and privately despises you? It's quite true. But please leave a message if you must...If you are from Austrade or the Industry Department though, please hang up now", or, "Don't even think about leaving a message, I don't want to talk to you anyway - never have." Or more subtlely, "please do leave a message, a quite detailed one if you wish, I'll get back to you shortly" - in the last case with possibly an ever so feint snigger at the end, or "yeah right", soto voce after a slight pause.

For the computer perhaps "You again? That's it, I'm resigning." or "I'm out of the office having fun, possibly for quite a long time. I may get back to you, I may not, bite me." Or "I'm on another long lunch, wouldn't your time have been better spent that way rather than composing your latest dreary work message? No wonder we never invite you." 30 years of professional politeness does that to you.

We agreed my friend might be the subject to further disciplinary action if he did something like that because he isn't exactly the management's favourite person just at the moment, bless him. I am a union delegate so pretty much untouchable (in more ways than one these days). He has just escaped a nasty scrape with a warning. But decided to toss it in anyway - he has other things to do.

How was he to know it was a book launch and the book being launched wasn't a free copy? Who reads invitations anyway? They should have had a sign saying "please don't take one." And who doesn't shove a book down the back of their trousers and try to leave immediately when their carry bag is full? Trump had just been elected. Franko was upset - tired and emotional. And yes, he was wearing his official security pass on a union lanyon festooned with anti-Trump buttons. An oversight and poor fashion sense at worst.

I ventured even if he had left the department, the authorities would probably still have to publicly burn him in effigy as a warning to others, like they did in the Inquisition when they couldn't find the condemned. especially after he so recently skilfully navigated a conduct and ethics investigation into the alleged minor infraction outlined above.

They might for example put out a stern note on telephone and computer etiquette and professional standards - and we'd know who triggered that, wouldn't we, hmmm? Franko, already a minor legend of non-conformity, plans to be in Geneva by July on a fellowship and gone for good. I promised to send him copies of any official correspondence from the last Inquiry - or the next  through other comrades who are hanging on - kindling for his fire-pit on Lake Geneva perhaps.

Back in the office most don't know I'm leaving for sure, and I haven't pulled the trigger on the offer yet, but clues abound and are starting to add up, making my meeting with staff this afternoon a little strained for the first time. One very leading question from a staff member hung heavy in the air - about future directions. I said I didn't expect any changes this month but there could be some next.

Tuesday there will be a big planning meeting about a future that is theirs, not mine. I feel some pangs, but not too many. It should be fun if my project team gets disbanded in the next business plan, to be unveiled at the planning day. I shall have to practice shrugs and worried or perplexed looks - better yet an enigmatic insouciant smile. It all must be a typo.

As long as you keep the oats up to an old warhorse like me, he'll be as right as rain. After so many campaigns, put me out to pasture I say, not for the first time. I probably still have some campaigns left in me, but not with this outfit.

comments now enabled (I think)

Thanks for pointing that out fin.

Joy to hear from you and will reply once I've caught up with Mrs Horse after her trip.

She can be elusive. She sends you love. Where is mine I asked plaintively? She snorted ominously and promptly went to bed with a book - her version of face cream...

I'm about as tech savy as a finger painter so the reply function may yet not work. I won't know till I get one.

Sunday on my mind

My lame foal went back to Sydney today. He had a good stay in Canberra. He rested and maybe because I didn't hassle or coach him, he helped around the house and we did stuff together.

At one point I told him he had a sweet nature. He rolled his eyes and said I was being weird. What came out over the weekend was his old self. That's what I meant. It was good to see, to have him back for a while. I'd give anything to have him back all the time.

Like Mrs Horse, he grounds my manic world with his slightly off balance - and quite inappropriate in this venal day and age - gentle spirit. But I ask you, for all your grasping and saving, just how many cheese and tomato sandwiches can anyone eat in a lifetime? If you have one, you have the world. My third foal tuned in on that young. Now, after some recent disappointments and shocks, most of the time he just sits around glued to a screen. He has always seen things differently and now he is suffering for it.

It is his sweet self that others take advantage of, see as weakness, disrespect. I don't. Thank God for the gentle souls as Spike Milligan once wrote. Doesn't the world need them now? No wonder he is disturbed, sometimes despairing at the dawn of adulthood, a bit like Spike perhaps.

But one thing he mentioned in passing was when he has foals of his own. He says he will do a better job than poor old Horsie. It was a relief to know he sees a future for himself beyond his current funk and gloom. He is only 18.

Although I don't want to make him out to be some sort of Creeping Jesus (I love that term). I am absolutely certain he will never attract disciples. And he is only 18 and like most 18 year olds, has all the answers and none. Most of his concerns are nonsense and trivial to people with real problems and struggles. Yet real enough to him for now.

So many young people are like him today for some reason we haven't yet grasped. But on the other hand, who can blame them? So perhaps we do know why. We just can't name it out loud.

I was quite upset to see him go when I put him on the bus, but I held it in. He gave me a big hug at the bus, a rare treat because the last time he said it might be years before I got another. The last one was in happier times, not so long ago, when The Sharks won the Grand Final. We were there together to see it. He gave me a crushing hug when they won, and held me longer than rugby wins allow. Fathers live for those moments. This old stallion anyway, those spontaneous moments of pure love and sincerity.

Speaking of which, Mrs Horse came back from Sydney shortly after the troubled foal left. I was still upset about that. We went for a long walk. She walked, I talked and talked. Women can be so sensible. I missed her. Everything went back into perspective with a wise word here and there. Tonight the stable will be warm again.

Mundane Saturday

A beautiful sunny day in Canberra. My ill son got up at about 10am, which for him was very good.

Someone is coming to have a look at a car we are selling today. I just sold another car to my son but he didn't transfer the rego before it expired on Friday. Can you rely on family? Never do business with them they say. I gave him a substantial discount on the car, half price.

Mrs Horse should return today from Sydney. Something to look forward to. It was very cold in the stable last night without her.

A ray breaks through

My third son has been having adjustment problems since leaving boarding school last year. This afternoon I asked him to stay a bit longer. He didn't want to come to Canberra. He was adamant he had to go back to Sydney on Saturday. This evening he said he'd stay till Sunday. Tonight he is making chicken curry. Small progress matters.

Cold Sunshine

The sun slithers up after a cold night in Canberra. Friday but a good day to stay in bed and sleep in a little. I have leave.

Frost starting to burn off. Get a hot bath going and the bones will be warmed. By mid morning the temperature will rise and it will be a glorious day.

Sydney is becoming our home, for one thing it is warmer. For another all our four sons live there. I want to be with them every day.

Why are humans so complicated

After a few days in Sydney it was time to head back to our other stable in Canberra. I had one of my sons with me. He is struggling at the moment. We had a good talk in the car. He needs to feel safe, he does with me.

That is what he said, at the moment anyway. It is so easy to make mistakes with people. Especially when they are fragile. Our parting from other family members in Sydney was fraught.

Canberra is cold this time of year, ten degrees lower than Sydney. We both need our horsie blankets until the house warms up. Our hearts are warm.

Walk the Horse

My filly has health problems. So she needs to walk every day. I go with her. Today we are walking the inner West of Sydney from our stable at Stanmore. We go up Enmore Road and then King Street Newtown. Across Missenden Road past the RPA hospital, I usually smoke at this point, and then down Salisbury Road back to Stanmore.

If we are feeling enthusiastic, or rather if she is, we continue down to Crystal Street to Addison Road Marrickville and then back up to Enmore Road. Sometimes we stop at the Marrickville Metro Mall, Mrs Horse's favourite local shopping spot. She shops for food every day.

Then we go home and I collapse from exhaustion. It's about 10 kilometres, quite a canter for a 2500 thousand year old horse. Wouldn't it be easier just to be overweight and unwell I sometimes think?

I must go put my saddle on.

The long stagger home

The walk today was short. It started well with coffee from Le Bake in Enmore Road from our friend Julie and ended badly with Mrs Horse buying groceries at the Metro, which we had to lug home on foot. I have fallen into this trap too many times to mention. Bring the car darling...

It was the frozen chicken which put us over the top. Have you ever carried a frozen chicken over your shoulder in a plastic bag full of K Mart purchases? My new woolly cap will be forever chicken scented and make me hungry.

Welcome to my blog

The first thing I learned setting up this thing is I'm supposed to post some notice warning Europeans about something to do with cookies. Consider your Euro selves warned. If you want to see the full notice, please write to Brussels.

Now you know why Alexander decamped to Asia and never came back.

However for the moment I am in Australia, a rather large empty country south of just about everywhere. Welcome to my blog.