Real Tart

Slip, sliding away...

All I can say is, don't try lifting an esky full of the weekend shop's cold items.
See, we live so far away from the shops - any shop - that I have to take the big esky with me to the supermarket, fill it with the milk and meats, fish, dairy stuff, etc, and then hoike it back out the car and carry it from the garage up the stairs - nice blackbutt timber, by the way - and into the kitchen.
The pain in my back was so bad I could hardly get out of bed yesterday. Couple this with some virulent mozzies who have taken a liking to Five and it was time to find a doctor.
Now, there are always complaints here in Oz about not enough doctors going to work in the bush. They generally don't like the lifestyle (there's seldom anywhere to get the Merc serviced) so they are a bit sparse on the ground. We found one yesterday who charges $70 a visit. For that I'd expect her to be better than Jesus. I mean, if I ever go blind or contract leprosy I'll pop back in there and gladly hand over the 70 notes.
Eventually we found another doctor who does what they call bulk billing. This means you don't pay them a fee - always good, that is - and they just claim it back off the government. So Five has now got some antibiotics, his bites having turned septic, and I've got enough painkillers to calmly allow my leg to be taken off by a rapid dog - of which there will definitely be one living nearby - without any drama.
My tablets carry some warning about not driving, operating heavy machinery or doing the knitting, so I'll see how we go.
In other news, I went to the post office yesterday and there was a note saying a package needed to be collected. I handed it over to the post woman who is 124 years old and she said, "Oh yes, I remember this. I think....Hmm, where could it be?" She shuffled around for a while and then she saw me out of the corner of her eye, jumped, looked at me with watery eyes and said, "Hello deary, now what can we do for you?"
Yes, I'm deep in the country. And it feels like I'm sinking deeper all the time.

Ouch...

8:24 PM, 1/10/2008 .. Posted by chica

...you need one of those trolley Esky's which look incredibly useful for groceries, but which I only ever see filled with beer and being towed by blokes onto the beach. And the secret is not to lift it into the car - have an empty one in the boot and pack from one to the other. I know, I know - means 2 Eskys but think of your ageing body, lovey!

I know...

7:08 AM, 2/10/2008 .. Posted by RealTart

...this is the first time I'm beginning to feel my age. The crook back really slows you down. I feel like a 94 year old.