Another birthday

It was Barry’s birthday on Monday and the day passed quietly. In the main, we have gone beyond the stage of buying gifts for each other. It is almost impossible to find something he hasn’t already got, and if he hasn’t got it, he has no interest in acquiring it.

Occasionally, I give him a bottle of fine brandy or port, but he rarely drinks, so the bottles last for a long time. I can find books to interest him, the one pictured here being an example. It is a book to dip into, I think, and we shall both enjoy it.

Otherwise, we each decide if there’s something we would like, we discuss it, it is agreed, and we buy it. It is not the most exciting way to bestow gifts, but it pleases us. Our joy in giving is mainly confined to seeking out presents for the youngest members of our family. There are currently seven under twelve years of age, with a new one expected in March.

Children and grandchildren called and sent messages to wish him a happy birthday. Charlie and Jack sang to him, which was sweet, and Gillian also serenaded him.

He had decided that a(nother) cordless electric screwdriver was something he would really like, and after much research - there’s always detailed research! – he selected one that satisfied his exacting requirements. Cordless electric secateurs were also on his wish list. They have arrived and have already been put to good use and declared excellent, relieving the hands of much hard work. An extension pole arrived today so that the many trees and bushes we have rapturously planted in the decades we have lived here can now be pruned and shaped and otherwise made good.

All these things are rechargeable!

I think the thing that pleased him most, though, was the appointment that was made, of which more anon.

                        Look at those lovely noses! I love dogs' noses.

Dust over Sydney!

Sydney has experienced an overwhelming and unprecedented dust storm. The red dust has been blown in from the desert by strong winds bringing chaos to the city. Commuter ferries have not been sailing in case they collide with each other - I can't imagine the dust would do their engines much good either.
At one hospital a spokesman said that the place had been inundated with joggers who had been overcome by breathing difficulties. Did the hospital carry out mental health checks on these foolish people who didn't understand that running through thick dust might be injurious?
For those who have had to continue their daily working lives in difficult conditions I hope tomorrow will bring improvement.
Dust over Sydney! - this could be a book - or a film - or a film of the book - or a book of the film - or all - or none . . .