MIRRABOOKA: Rumours that a shul is to be built on the old petrol site beside Masjid Al Taqwa spark Payton L. Inkletter to note the good opportunities

In other news…

23^rd January 2009:

Friday: It took me ages to get to sleep, why I can’t say, but it is frustrating that I can be falling asleep in front of TV, but wide awake in bed, yet I have to admit I spent some intervening hours catching up with Fool’s Paradise tasks online before hitting the cosy sack. Missus Inklenoisyslumbercheeks did sleep in those times I didn’t, making it harder for moi to fall asleep.

Poor aforementioned old thing, woke with a cramp in her right leg, the usual problem from the pinched nerve in her back, and I had to swing into the well practiced emergency drill of heat packs and zappy dapper (Acuplus) fetching, and after a period of great pain it subsided for her, until she was able to return to get some much needed sleep.

Another mild mid-summer’s day coming up, and that’s not to be sneezed at around these Inkletterville parts. I got ready for taking Bob swimming, bless his dark grey cotton bathers, the ones that slip down to expose where the sun don’t shine to the world the least. His red ones are notorious, but all three pairs have been known to commit this social faux pas, and he’s always oblivious to the innocence he shatters when they slip on the way back up for air after his duck dives in Swan Aquatic’s walking lane.

On the way to Guildford I called into Colli & Sons and bought a pair of cupboard hinges, the only type anywhere close to resembling the pair I fitted the other day in the kitchen. I thought they were expensive, but when I asked Janny to guess what they cost later, she went way above, so I’d better catch up with the times. Bob was patient, for I didn’t get to his place till after three o’clock. Off to Swan Aquatic, where he put in a sterling performance exercise wise, duck diving and walking in the devoted lane, and fortunately I didn’t notice any of his infamous faux pas today, thank the Lord for elastic waist bands!

A young lass slipped into the pool and hurt her back and backside on the edge, poor thing, but she and her mates had long been running around, breaking one of the cardinal rules around pools. She seemed to function okay after a while, but I’ll bet she’s sporting some bruises tonight. I wondered at the lack of constraints applied by the staff, for a controlled moderate riot went on for quite a while among a coterie of young kids between the outdoor and indoor pools.

I read a few more pages of Clive Hamilton’s ‘The Freedom Paradox’, and I have been very much in general agreement, as well as enjoying his style and argument, until the beginnings now of his treatment of metaphysics; I am still enjoying it very much, but am being pushed to accept some of his early analyses of the nature of reality; his take on ontology. Methinks I’ll have to put my boxing gloves on for the rest of this section…

We finished our afternoon with a cup of tea and walk at Fish Market Reserve in Guildford, where we most always find folk fishing from the Swan-Avon, not that I see them actually catching anything.

I got a tad of petrol on the way home in Malaga, and was mighty weary when I arrived at our place. I did a quick turnaround to deliver vittles to Pa pree Inkletter, before sinking into the famous Player recliner and enjoying my tuck tuck. I fell asleep soon after, and had Janny revive me to catch the mid evening SBS news.

Late evening I fitted the two hinges I bought earlier, but they were subtly different as it turned out from the others, and I couldn’t get the door to close cleanly. It’ll probably be me, not the wrong hinges; such things are like rocket science for me. Janny is stoked nevertheless for the result is brilliant compared to how I’d let the pantry doors devolve over the years.

I tackled some online stuff, including a comment to Gladys Hobson’s Writing for Joy ‘Sun and Rain’ posting, then set off on a late late walk. The boys and girls in blue hesitated driving past me for a mo, but let me be. I wonder if they are the same ones who have come to know me? I smelt smoke in the air on my humid walk, and it always bothers me, for I wonder how close the fire is, and such like.

I have been composing mentally more material for my Dawkin’s critique; I can’t stop myself, and one of my problems is that I’m usually miles from the computer when I come up with the ideas, and I have to make sure somehow I remember the stuff, or jot the ideas down on the million scraps of paper that are piling up everywhere.

I also find myself wondering what it used to feel like having good eyes, legs, muscles, digestive system, strength, everything. Aging has knobs on it, apart from the wisdom accrual. Well nigh everything is hurting these days, which I suppose is funny really, and it’s one way to remember I have all these bits and pieces.

After some more online and offline computer work, as well as a hit of tea and a read of Saturday’s West, I hit the sack.

+paytontedwithlove+