Daily Life

Devil Laughs

Nobody else but me is gonna understand just how ironic this post is (provided it even makes it onto the site) as I type it out in an MS Word file rather than directly into the blog as I would usually do.

With a couple of extra hours available to me this morning, I always had it in mind to write a post with the above title.

What I hadn’t calculated was just how accurate that it would turn out to be.

I was going to write about how 2024 has been nothing like how I had imagined it would unfold and that the devils laughs at those who make plans.

…only for the site to be going through yet another unplanned breakdown.

It was a laughably ironic outcome so apt for what I had intended.

Kangaeroo Corner looking remarkably verdant for midwinter

Anyway, the hosting company told me that the site should be operating again within 72 hours, which I will believe when I see it.

And back to what I was originally going to write about: how things don’t turn out as they’re planned to.

The currently insulated and potted hairpin banksia in the foreground is headed for planting in-ground beside the fence when spring arrives

One reason I hadn’t been able to monitor the site since the last entry about 10 days ago was that I was ill….covid: for the third time. This time the illness lingered much longer than the past, when I had been up and about again after 2-3 days. I fell ill 10 days ago and still feel lousy. My chest feels constricted and breathing is difficult, but I get the feeling that I am improving. I had intended to go for a ride this morning when I woke up but felt too crook to do so, and the weather kindly played along by making the prospect of getting on a bike look unattractive.  

I’ve barely ridden all year. Normally, missing a day makes me an irritable mess. I’m not yearning for the bike as yet. One happy consequence has been a subsiding of the pain in my arthritic hands due to the reduced shock absorption expected of them on the bike, I guess. Thank heavens for small mercies.

The patchier parts of the lawn are zoysia strains that go dormant in winter.

Indeed, considering what I’ve seen happen to hands this year, I am fortunate to even be able to feel the pain, let alone be blessed to have it weaken in intensity.

I’ve spent more than half the year so far in a tiny, north-facing room with pretty much only Dino for company. And a wonderful companion she has been.

It’s the toughest time of the year for the garden and I have kept an eye on it as much as possible. There’s not much I can do now except hope for the best and remain watchful. I still don’t really know what I am doing in the garden (probably over-thinking), but I am pleased that everything seems to be hanging on and the lawn still retains a lovely greenness.

Most of the lawn is now fescue, which should make it green year-round

Originally, now was supposed to be the time when I would have a new profession and be preparing to leave. It hasn’t come even remotely close to happening. Looking for a job has been impossible and little seems likely to make that situation change within the month. I guess I need the gift of desperation.

Physically drained is not the greatest state to foster mental well-being and that is proving the case for me. Moreover, realizing I’m not much fun to be around makes me more determined to put on a bright face and be positive, only to attack myself even further when I am unable to do so. Ad infinitum.

The poor eucalyptus orbifolia that thrived too well for its own good. It’s probably dead, but I’ll give it a couple more months to make sure. I’m sorry. My ignorance cost your life.

So it goes!