In the midst of the ongoing COVID-lockdown, I’m managing to keep myself reasonably fit by walking. Though there are some days I don’t quite reach the magic number of 10,000 steps, quite often I do.
I try to stop along the way and take some photographs, and this weekend, in particular, I’ve shot some video.
There’s yesterday’s video, a walk to the Lismore Showground, Farmer’s Market and Saleyard. And today, there’s a video along the riverbank in Lismore.
As I’ve stated previously, Lismore has a “difficult” relationship with the river, due to regular flooding in the city. But it’s still quite lovely, and today there were quite a few people out and about, walking along the riverbank, and there were even some people in boats.
Today I met Jamie, a kayaker who sums it up well. He said there are other “prettier places” to go kayaking, like nearby Brunswick Heads or Evans Head, but that Lismore’s river is still pretty special. “I love it, it puts a whole new perspective on my town”, he told me.
“I just have to make sure everyone has a good meal, and then I’ll be happy”, I told some colleagues earlier tonight.
They were concerned my main meal hadn’t arrived at the same time as theirs. I’d told the people at the pub, “look after everyone else and I’ll come to you at the end”.
I hadn’t realised until then the “emotional investment” I’d put into organising the conference. What you think is a fairly straightforward arrangement of booking somewhere for dinner suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. “Did they enjoy their meals? Did they wait too long? Did they sit next to interesting people?” are just some of the questions you ask yourself.
In the end, you know it’s all going to be fine, but you never stop worrying until…
Until everyone’s had their meal, they’ve had a drink, they’ve had a good chat with someone they’ve never met before, until you hear some laughter, and until you know you can go home happily knowing it’s all been okay. And until you can tweet something like…
Been out tonight with lots of interstate colleagues. Strawberry Hills Hotel staff were terrific at dealing with a large group. Everyone had fun and we kept ourselves nice. Had a wonderful night. Have a warm inner glow, and not just from the beers :)
“You can see the concentration on your face”, a friend commented today, as I posted on Facebook a video of my “first steps” with my new prosthetic limb. Though it took a lot of concentration, taking those steps wasn’t as challenging as I had anticipated. I attribute this to the incredible support and guidance from the team at Sacred Heart Rehabilitation, part of St Vincent’s Hospital, Sydney.
Last week, the prosthetist visited the hospital to measure my stump and create a plaster cast. Since then, he has fashioned the “first version” version of my artificial limb. Today’s meeting was around making the necessary “real-life adjustments” .
“Don’t attempt these adjustments yourself,” he advised, emphasizing that some individuals attempt DIY modifications and end up causing more harm than good. We all shared a laugh at my friend’s comment about the many perils of a man armed with an Allen key.
I still have to wait an additional week before receiving the “final model”, following today’s adjustments, the anticipated arrival of some components from overseas, and me learning how to walk properly with one.
Today’s session also involved some training on caring for my prosthetic limb and its various components. For example, after removing the silicone protector, we all noticed how much sweat there was on my leg. The silicone needed to be wiped down and allowed to air dry.
It’s not simply a matter of donning the prosthetic and resuming my daily routine. The specialist in charge recommended a fifteen-minute session with the leg on during tomorrow’s gym session. Over the next week, these sessions will gradually extend in duration. Even when wearing it “full time,” I’ve been advised to remove it if any discomfort arises.
While I was conscious of the presence of the prosthetic and noted its weight, I experienced no “phantom pain.” However, I did notice a sensation in my right foot. “I can feel my toes touching the floor,” I told everyone, highlighting the remarkable capabilities of the human brain.
Thankfully, one of my primary concerns, balance, didn’t pose as much of a challenge as I had initially feared. Nevertheless, I received advice to hold onto the bars while walking back and forth.
“You perform better when you maintain a forward gaze, as opposed to looking down.” my friend Michaela noted. She quickly acknowledged the expertise of those present but was absolutely correct. Additionally, everyone noticed that when I looked down at the floor, my legs tended to come closer together, making balance more precarious. The consensus was clear: “You need to walk with a wider stance, like a cowboy.”
I’m surprised I didn’t get more strange looks with my IKEA shopping bag packed with a collection of Swedish food. I had conflicting commitments tonight, both of which I really wanted to attend, so I did both. There was a gathering of some colleagues from around Australia, a number of whom I was really wanting to see. But it was also the final Swedish class for the year, and a mini “Christmas Party”,
“I’d love to come, I really would”, I told one of my bosses when he invited me along. But in doing so I emphasised how much I really couldn’t stay for the entire night due to class. So I took along my IKEA bag full of Swedish confectionary with me to the restaurant.
The question “What have you got in there?” led to some wonderful “show and tell”. Deep down I’m sure a few of my colleagues think I’m borderline certifiable, but most thought it was great to have an interest that I felt so passionate about.
A Taste of Sweden – IKEA Shopping Bag
By the time I arrived at class the “hard work” for the night had been done. The verbs, the grammar. Yikes. I arrived just in time for a conversation about favourite restaurants and cuisine, for listening to and translating some songs from Swedish into English, and for some general chit-chat in Swedish.
When our teacher speaks reasonably slowly and simply in Swedish, I love the fact that I can understand and respond in a reasonably simple manner.
“I could never have a terribly sophisticated conversation, but I could get by with some small talk and chit-chat”, I told a colleague over dinner when he asked about how good or bad my Swedish skills were.
After class I noted to Grant I’ve got just four classes until I go back to Sweden. Can you believe that? It’s so soon and there’s so much to do.
Grant has set himself some language goals for the next year, and I suspect that would be a good idea for myself also.
When I lived in Porpoise Spit, I used to sit in my room for hours and listen to ABBA songs. But since I’ve met you and moved to Sydney, I haven’t listened to one Abba song. That’s because my life is as good as an Abba song. It’s as good as Dancing Queen.
Having grown up on the North Coast when it was a far less fashionable place than it is now – when it was in many ways “the end of the line” – that was definitely a quote which captured my heart when “Muriel’s Wedding” was released in the 1990s. In fact, for a while this website was even named “Goodbye Porpoise Spit”.
Back in Lismore thirty years later and I’m not listening to ABBA songs on my cassette player. No, it’s Youtube these days, though I am still drawing musical inspiration from Sweden. Over the last couple of hours I’ve been discovering some new Swedish tunes which I thought I’d share.
The first two are by a singer called Juvelen (literally Jewel), born Jonas Pettersson, July 15, 1976, is an electro-pop singer from Stockholm, Sweden.
A Scandinavian Justin Timberlake, a male version of Robyn, or – as he describes himself – a one-man boy band: it’s easy enough to slap a label on Swedish pop upstart Juvelen, but that shouldn’t suggest that his soulful electronic dance-pop is simply derivative. Indeed, it’s surprising how few truly like-minded peers he has in the late 2000s – an period rife with exceptional female Scandinavian synth-poppers – given the era’s fascination with the electronic ’80s and, in particular, the output of Prince in his heyday, which is an undeniable reference point for Juvelen’s work.
I really like the pop sensibility in his music, his singing, and of course, he’s a bit of a spunk, isn’t he?
I’ve also been watching some clips by Familjen, a “group” centred around Swedish techno/electropop artist Johan T Karlsson. The song is great, though you get the impression the clip was made “on the cheap”.
And finally, not entirely Swedish… a band called Studio Killers which features members from Denmark, Finland and the UK. This is a great song/clip about not being able to get into a nightclub due to an over-zealous bouncer.
Thought I’d give a mention to a documentary my friend, Michaela Perske has produced and co-written called “88”.
The documentary goes back to 1988, the year of the Australian Bicentenary, and tells the story of some of the many thousands of Indigenous people who travelled from all over Australia to join in protests on January 26. As well as being a seminal moment in the development of modern Indigenous affairs in Australia, it was also a seminal moment in the lives of many of those profiled.
The program goes to air on ABC1 on Thursday, January 30 at 8.30pm. A lot of hard work over a long period of time has gone into this, so I hope you’ll be watching :)
There’s more info about the program on their Facebook page.
A vague semblance of life has returned to my ‘hood tonight, with a few of the shops now re-opened. But overall, it’s been a very quiet weekend in Scruffy Hills, with many people having gone away for the weekend. And that’s how I like it: I really like being in Sydney for long-weekends, Easter, Christmas etc, because there are so few people around and there are so few cars on the road, making it a far more pleasant place to live. Yes, I guess I’m still a country boy in many ways, despite having lived in Sydney for twelve years!
Work has been quite busy lately, and is probably likely to get even busier over the next few months, and so I really needed just a few days of guilty-free nothingness. For me, that meant getting out of bed later in the morning, having afternoon naps, and putting my mind “on vacation”.
I’ve also been fairly successful in my attempt not to think about work. Was there a terrorist attack in Sydney? Well, I wouldn’t know because I consumed only a small amount of news media. I did, however, watch a lot of “The Simpsons” and “Will & Grace”, and smaller amounts of the “How To” Channel. I also watched the latest installment in the “Omen” series. In this “made for tv” (I suspect) movie, the daughter of Damien (the antichrist) is alive and causing havoc. But unlike the other parts of the series, the “Catholic thing” isn’t nearly as strong, replaced by snake-handling Pentecostals and New Age hippies taking aura photographs. To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t very good.
Socially it’s also been a reasonably quiet weekend, by my usual standards. I caught up with Colin and Damien last night for dinner (Colin cooked his spectacular corned beef), followed by a drink or two with Graeme. And then I caught up with Sue M today for lunch at the Indian vegetarian place on Cleveland Street (followed by a mineral water – yes seriously – at the Dolphin Hotel).
The rest of my weekend has involved probably far too much time on the couch, but I have no regrets. So yeah, it’s good to do nothing. M’kay?
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Thanks for the tour James.
Keep stepping out. You must have a decent set of calf muscles by now.
I did 12,700 steps today or 10.11km according to the app on my phone, although I’m not sure how accurate it is. I’ve been doing the same walk around Geelong’s waterfront nearly every day of the pandemic.
Love the art work on the levy bank.
Keep well.
Thankyou Rod. I hope it’s going well with you also. I have a good long-term friend who lives in Geelong, and I can tell she’s found these lockdowns difficult too, but also kinda resigned to it all.
Thanks for the tour James.
Keep stepping out. You must have a decent set of calf muscles by now.
I did 12,700 steps today or 10.11km according to the app on my phone, although I’m not sure how accurate it is. I’ve been doing the same walk around Geelong’s waterfront nearly every day of the pandemic.
Love the art work on the levy bank.
Keep well.
Thankyou Rod. I hope it’s going well with you also. I have a good long-term friend who lives in Geelong, and I can tell she’s found these lockdowns difficult too, but also kinda resigned to it all.